#I had to do for the third sub-question. These things were vague and hard to understand)

[morningmask27]

Fucked up exam, truly EVIL questions

[iluvbuckets]

game time decision

concussion protocol part 2

paige bueckers x fem!reader 

summary: after the wings vs sky game where paige took a hard hit to the head from an opponent, she is placed under concussion protocol. you had a particularly intense reaction to the hit, and it does not go unnoticed by the women's basketball fans. now, there was already speculation that you two had a romantic relationship on social media, but this only added fuel to the fire. the overwhelming concern and worry for the possibility of her having a serious head injury has new, deeper feelings you had never considered before bringing themselves to the front of your mind, and you begin to wonder if maybe those comments were right all along.

warnings: fluff!!, friends to lovers, slow burn, just you two being cutesy besties, hurt/comfort, idiots in love!, talk of philosophy/mythology/doctor who bc i'm nerdy like dat (but it's romantic, i swear!!), talk of the kendrick/drake beef (it relates to u being the #1 koclanes hater), lots!! of!! plot!!, eye contact, quite a bit of teasing (no one is surprised), sub!paige, you're a giver fs, both are stubborn af, you're a lil whiny for a second, u luv paige's biceps, choking kinda, thigh grindinggg, oral (of courseee), begging obviously

word count: 27k

notes:  i hope this was worth the wait <3 & i rlly hope y'all don't mind the references in this but i am just a girl with niche knowledge to share with the world and this is my outlet :( everyone thank my psychiatrist who prescribes me 70mg of vyvanse for the word count :)

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you couldn’t contain your nervousness sitting at the table, trying to do post-game media availability without making it too obvious how pissed and antsy you were.

much to her dismay, paige reluctantly told the trainers that she had a headache immediately following your team’s post-game locker room talk. she knew that if she didn’t say anything, you would, so it was probably better if she just did it herself so you didn’t make it sound worse than it was.

since paige wasn’t available, the media team had asked you to step in for the media availability, especially after your little outburst on the court. but you didn’t want to be sitting there next to your coach who was useless and stupid for that stunt he pulled, keeping her in the game. apparently it was obvious to everyone but him that paige was the type of player to pretend nothing was wrong in those instances, needing the coach to step in and take her away.

“can you talk about what happened on the court today? we’ve never seen you so fired up like that before,” one of the reporters asks.

you almost laugh from bitterness, but you manage to keep your expressions pretty contained. 

“uh,” you started, staring down at the table and not making eye contact, “emotions were high. it was an intense game, no doubt about that, and i was definitely feeling it.”

the answer was vague and honestly, didn’t answer the question at all, but you hoped that would be good enough. that it would be a sign that you didn’t want to talk about it right now out of fear that you may say something you regret. it wasn’t.

“right, but you’re not usually the type to yell like that. what caused it?” the same person asked. 

“you know, sometimes we all just get a little frustrated and it comes off more fiery than intended,” you answered, your tone just barely dripping in sass. it was intended, though. maybe not when you were speaking to paige, but definitely to coach.

“it looked like you were frustrated with paige,” someone else started. “during the third quarter, you seemed to have a moment and hugged it out, though. can you talk about that?”

you glanced up at the reporter asking the question, then at chris, then trained your gaze back down onto the table, your leg shaking violently while you did so.

“yeah, i just had to remind her that i still love her despite being frustrated with the way things were going. just mid-game intensity, no big deal,” you replied as you looked up again and gave a tight-lipped smile.

and media couldn’t get over fast enough. after what felt like years, you were able to finally get back to the locker room for a quick shower and to change.

when you got on the bus that was taking the team to the airport, you sat in the front, not even bothering to see where she was sitting. not that it really mattered though, there were enough rows that you wouldn’t have sat in the same one anyway. 

it was the same thing on the plane too, but it really wasn’t intentional. you weren’t even mad at her either, you were mad at everyone else who handled the situation poorly and the reporters trying to get a rise out of you. sure, she could’ve spoken up, but everyone else on staff should’ve stepped up when they noticed she didn’t–no matter if it was really a concussion or not. getting hit in the head isn’t something to play about.

“hey,” you heard her voice from beside you. 

you and the team were standing on the tarmac, waiting for your luggage to be unloaded so you could get back to your cars. your eyes were trained on the plane, trying to distract yourself from how truly annoyed you were and thinking about how you needed to get away for a little bit to defuse it. 

“hey,” you replied quietly. 

“i’m in concussion protocol.”

you whipped your head to the side to look at her. she looked innocent and vulnerable, like one wrong sentence could set her off into a crying fit. the annoyance and anger quickly melted away at the sight. your shoulders sagged from their tense position as you turned to wrap her into another hug, putting a hand on the back of her head comfortingly. 

“i’m sorry, paige,” you murmured softly into her ear.

“you can say i told you so,” she tried to joke when she finally pulled away after a few moments. “i can’t play the next two games. can’t travel either. they said i’ll be reevaluated on tuesday. i can do limited practice on monday if i feel better, though.”

a sympathetic smile rose to your lips at words. you knew that she might not have a concussion, it was just a precaution, but it didn’t stop the worry from flowing like nobody’s business. and even worse, you knew this was devastating for paige. she was holding it together externally so no one would worry, but she was cracking internally from it. 

you pinched her cheek jokingly making her smile. “i’m not going to tell you i told you so. i was just angry because i care and i worry about you. i don’t care to prove a point.”

as you were talking, the cart with your bags was brought around for the team to take. before paige could even argue or try to grab it herself, you grabbed both of your duffle bags. luckily, neither of you were heavy packers–and this wasn't a long trip anyway–so they were pretty light and easy to carry. you nodded your head in the direction of the building of the airport in a wordless gesture to start walking back with you, which she did.

“thank you,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “could you–um, can i ride home with you? i just–i’m not allowed to drive myself until i’m cleared and we live in the same building. otherwise, one of the trainers has to drive me so–” she cut herself off before finishing her sentence.

honestly, you didn’t know why she was nervous to ask. maybe she thinks you’re still mad at her after not talking to her on the bus and plane, maybe she’s embarrassed of having to be taken care of, or maybe she’s embarrassed to even be in this situation. still, you had driven her so many places and definitely to practice a few times a week, so she shouldn’t be that nervous to ask. not to mention, you had already planned to offer because you assumed she would still try to drive herself home despite the protocol. 

“of course, p,” you replied with a smile. you considered making a joke about how it was a dumb question or something similar, but you assumed this wasn’t the right time for that. sure, paige has a childlike energy and is always cracking jokes, but still. you did think of one joke that would still lighten the mood, though. “i always have room for my favorite passenger princess.”

“i am not a passenger princess,” she protested. her eyebrows scrunched in annoyance at the claim because she thought it was ridiculous (even if it was true), and gave you a side eye. 

you scoffed, rolling your eyes at her weak argument–or lack of argument–but still keeping the smile on your face out of amusement. “yeah, you drive so much,” your tone dripping in sarcasm.

“i do!” she cried defensively. she threw her hands in the air in confusion, like this was genuinely the most surprising thing you had ever said, and she seemed genuine too. which is crazy because she definitely did not drive often enough for her to try to defend herself.

“maybe by yourself, but not with me,” you chuckled. she pressed her lips together in a thin line at your words. “you don’t even offer most of the time. you just walk straight to my car.” 

“okay, fine. maybe you do drive all the time, but you know dallas better than me! it’s easier if you just drive,” she admitted, grabbing the door to the airport and holding it open for you. that surprised you, too. usually, she was too stubborn to admit you were right and would argue until you either agreed with her to make it easier or dropped it all together. even though it was annoying that she would do this, you also thought it was cute how dedicated she would be over things that are stupid.

“you’re saying i’m right?” you contorted your face into a shocked expression to sell the joke you were about to make. if your hands were free, you would probably put them over your heart. instead, you changed your shocked expression into a concerned one, shaking your head in fake disbelief. “that’s not like you. the concussion must be really bad. i better take you to the hospital right now.”

she knocked her shoulder with yours lightly, not trying to push you over, but enough for you to take a stabilizing step to the side. you didn’t realize how fast you two were walking until you were approaching the doors that led to the parking lot, but you weren’t that far from them anyway. this time, they were automatic doors, so you walked through them side by side instead of her grabbing it for you.

“you’re so funny,” she replied sarcastically. 

you chose not to reply, so you both walked across the parking lot in a comfortable silence. though, it was abnormal for paige. she usually was running her mouth about anything and everything that possibly came to her mind, so you knew that meant she wasn’t feeling that great. not that you were surprised.

once you finally approached your car, you set your bag down on the concrete behind the trunk, fishing in your pockets for your keys. despite being in pain, she still felt the need to be helpful, so she opened your trunk and put your bag in it once you unlocked it. she reached for her bag in your hand, too. 

“i can do it,” you said as you moved the bag backwards out of her reach.  “i’m the healthy one here. get in the car.” 

she threw her hands up in defense, but did as you said anyway, which you appreciated. you closed the trunk hard, making sure it actually closed, then walked to the driver’s side door to get in. when you finally sat down and shut the door, you paused for a moment to look at paige. she was staring forward like she was zoned out, chewing on both her lips absentmindedly. 

when you didn’t start the car after a few moments, she looked over at you with confused expression filling her features. you tilted your head at her, shooting her a look of sympathy back. her mind was probably running wild with all kinds of thoughts that she would stress about until she could come back, but would also probably still stress about even when she was back. 

“it’ll be okay,” you said, reaching over the console to grab her hand and intertwining your fingers. “hopefully they are being cautious over nothing. you’ll just sit out these next two games, then you’ll be cleared and ready to get back to work.” 

“yeah, i hope so. it would really suck to add my brain to my extensive list of injuries,” she attempted to joke with a laugh, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. she looked down at your hands to try to hide it from you. of course, it didn’t work–you could see right through it.

she was a touchy person–her love language definitely was physical touch, so she was glad that you allowed her to show her appreciation in that way and even did things like holding her hand when she was feeling upset or sad. you made her feel seen and appreciated, especially when she needed it most at this big life transition. you were just glad that she was comfortable enough to express herself like that, even if it meant she was always touching you when she was near you no matter what. 

the comfortability didn’t happen immediately, though. at first, when she would talk to you, her hand lingered in the air between you instead. then, she gradually started patting your arm when she wanted your attention, resting her hands on your shoulders when she talked to you, and resting a hand lightly on your back when you were talking to her. then progressed to things like hugs when she did something well at practice, poking your waist from behind to distract you while you were trying to get shots up, and grabbing your shoulders while you were standing in huddles.

you definitely did not share that love language with her, but if it made her happy, you didn’t mind it. and you definitely weren’t nearly as touchy as her, so it took some getting used to. you would just initiate it by tapping her arm to get her attention every now and then, but would always reciprocate her touch without fail. she didn’t seem to notice that you barely initiated, or if she did, she didn’t mind. it probably helped that you never shook her off either (unless it was as a joke after she was making fun of you, of course).

“i know it’s easier said than done, but please, try not to stress about it too much. give yourself some grace and focus on finally being able to let yourself rest,” you said. you knew you were stating the obvious, but it didn’t hurt to remind her of it to really drill it in her head.

she only nodded her head in reply, keeping her gaze trained on your head to keep her emotions from flowing out of her too forcefully. you definitely could’ve continued the conversation with more things to say about it, but you decided to keep quiet. instead, you pulled your hand away from hers to turn the key and put the car in reverse so you could finally leave.

her grip wasn’t tight enough to prevent you from pulling away, but she kept her hand on her leg with her palm facing up as a hint that she wanted you to grab her hand again. after you backed out of the parking spot and put your car in drive, you reached over the console. 

the ride back to your apartment building was silent except the faint sound of paige’s playlist playing in the background–her phone automatically connected to your carplay every time she got in it. she had turned her head to the side to keep her eyes trained outside the window, either deep in thought or trying to distract herself. you stared ahead, thinking about how worried you were and what people would say.

now that you had calmed down, you could admit that maybe you had overreacted a little. you were never one to yell at all, so you knew that your teammates were definitely surprised. your coach definitely was. paige definitely was. but you couldn’t help it. seeing her go down on the floor and holding her head in pain ignited a whole new type of worry that you don’t know if you had ever experienced before. something that made you want to drop everything and take care of her–nurse her to health. and when she lied about feeling fine? god, you don’t even know if you could even describe how deep the pit in your stomach was–the angry, knowing feeling that she was not okay.

you loved paige. she was your best friend and you would do anything for her, she knew that. you hated when she got hurt in anyway. but you couldn’t help but think about how you were the only person who acted that way about it. sure, your teammates were concerned, but not like you. not enough to cause a scene in the middle of the game yelling at their coach–which would probably end up on espn, or at least be the talk of women’s sports social media pages for a few weeks. they didn’t even say anything about how she should be taken out like you did. 

did you overreact? 

maybe you were just angry about your coach dangerously under-reacting and not her getting hurt in itself. would you have been just as concerned if she was taken out by your coach or the trainers? would it have eaten you up the whole rest of the game in the way? was it really as big of a deal as you made it?

well, yeah, head injuries or potential head injuries are a huge deal, but you still couldn’t help but stress about it.

the stressful thoughts seemed to make time fly by because before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking garage of your apartment building. you found your assigned parking spot which was in the corner of the ground floor, pulled in, and put your car in park. you let your free hand fall to your lap as you leaned back in your seat instead of turning it off though.

“will you stay at mine tonight?” you asked suddenly but quietly. 

among the other thoughts swirling in your head, that was another one you had been thinking over asking. there wasn’t any reason for her to need company other than your own peace of mind. this wasn’t necessarily the kind of injury that she needed help moving around with or really any type of assistance at all, but you knew that she was having a hard time. even if she didn’t admit it. not that you didn’t trust her to be alone, but you would still feel better anyway. then she could get some real rest. 

“i mean,” she started hesitantly, looking in your eyes. her unreadable expression softened into something else, something more fond and understanding. “yeah. yeah, that would be good.”

you almost expected her to argue. something about how she’s okay and you have better things to do than take care of her while she sits on her ass, because that’s the way she was. she didn’t want to be burden, and she would nurse herself back to health instead of feeling like one (even if you tried to reassure her that it was okay).

maybe her decision was influenced by the fact that this wasn’t the first time she had stayed over either, so she knew she would be in the guest room instead of on the couch. not that you would’ve offered if the best you could give her was a couch, though. or maybe that didn’t influence her decision at all. maybe she was purely doing it for you, because honestly, it really was more for your sake than hers–to make you feel better about her recovery.

once again, you grabbed your bags from the trunk and carried them inside yourself. she used her key to let you two in the building and held the door open for you after doing so. you gave her a nod of appreciation as you walked through. she pressed the elevator button for your floor, which opened immediately, much to your surprise. when you got in and the door closed, you dropped her bag on the floor and playfully covered her eyes with your hand.

“just putting in my contribution to helping you adhere to protocol,” you said as you raised your hand. “too many bright lights.” 

she blew a laugh out of her nose, shaking her head, and pushing your hand down. you stiffened your arm to fight her for a few seconds, but ultimately let her push it down. “bruh, we literally just played in an arena. be so for real.”

“exactly. you’ve reached your limit for today,” you replied, picking up her bag off the floor again. 

the elevator dinged, indicating you had finally reached your floor, and you shuffled out first with her following close behind. luckily, you were only a few doors down from the elevator so it wasn’t too far of a walk. 

before she could insist to open it for you, you dropped her bag again to grab your keys from your pocket, unlocking the door swiftly. though, she swiped her bag up before you could reach for it again with a goofy grin on her face. you didn’t argue, though, you knew she could’ve been carrying it this whole time because it wasn’t that heavy. 

“the room is still set up from the last time you stayed,” you said casually, throwing your bag haphazardly in the living room to grab later, shrugging your backpack off your back and throwing it in the same direction too.

“ew, you’re making me sleep on dirty sheets?” she replied, scrunching her nose like that was the most disgusting thing she had ever heard.

“you literally only slept on them once since i last washed them. are you saying you’re dirty?” you shot back, raising your eyebrows in a challenge. you knew that had been an argument between her and azzi at uconn–who was messier or dirtier–and they argued about it more often than you would think. honestly, you would say she wasn’t that messy, but maybe she’s cleaned up her act since then. 

“nah,” she said, shaking her head. “i’m clean as hell.” 

“then what did you do on those sheets to make them dirty?” you asked innocently, tilting your head slightly. 

her cheeks flushed at the implication in your words, suggesting that she had done something sexual in your guest bed. it definitely was not the case, but her physical reaction wasn’t pleading her innocence very well. her hands shot up in defense before she replied.

“nothing! i just–i slept on them! nothing else. i didn’t do anything. that’s weird,” she said quickly. maybe it was a little too quickly, but the sudden awkwardness of the subject was making her nervous. 

“yeah, okay,” you replied sarcastically like you didn’t believe her, your lips forming into a tight smile and your eyes widening. “doesn’t really sound like you didn’t do anything, but i guess the law i have to follow is innocent until proven guilty. i can’t really prove you’re guilty.” 

“you’re mean to me,” she pouted, her lip jutting out slightly. 

“you love it,” you said with a grin. 

“because i have to.”

the rest of the night was no different than any usual hangout between the two of you. you ordered in food from doordash; normally, you would’ve insisted that it was your treat, but she was a partner. obviously, you were going to use her account for the good deals that came along with that. and of course, she insisted that she get to pick because it was her account, even throwing the extra argument of her having a concussion. not that you minded, you were going to let her pick anyway for that very reason.

she managed to convince you to watch a movie while you ate despite needing to limit her screen time, but she said either you watched it on television or she would watch it on her ipad. you decided to pick your battles because having the ipad close to her face would definitely be worse, but you made her promise that she would put the screens away after it finished. she agreed, but you knew that it was just to shut you up and she would still try. 

almost immediately following the movie, you both excused yourself to bed. you followed behind her in the hallway, stopping at the guest room because it came first before your bedroom. before she could put her hand on the knob to open it, you tapped her shoulder to grab her attention. once she turned to face you, you wrapped your arms around her waist in a hug. she melted into your touch, wrapping her arms around your shoulders without any hesitation and burying her face in your neck. 

“everything will be okay,” you whispered, rubbing circles into her back slowly. “get some rest, p.”

she sighed as you pulled away, her expression looking significantly more defeated than it did five minutes ago. she didn’t verbally reply, though, just nodded and opened the door to the room. you didn’t wait for it to close before you were walking to your own room, closing the door softly behind you. 

you rubbed your hands over your face once it closed, exhausted from the physically and mentally tiring day. after peeling off your travel clothes to replace them with pajamas, you grabbed your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants now in a pile on the floor and crawled into your soft, comfy bed–not even bothering to throw the clothes in the hamper where they belong. you hoped that paige still had leftover pajamas in the dresser of that room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to check and make sure.

instead, you opened twitter. this was something you never did immediately following a game in fear of the hate comments about how bad you played and how you need to be kicked off, because there would always be those no matter how well you played–how many points you scored, or steals you got, or rebounds, or free throws made. this time, you couldn’t help it because of the events of the game.

and the very first one you spot when you look up your name in the search bar, then clicked latest, was a photo of you and paige hugging during that free-throw. the actual tweet attached to it?

do they know it’s legal

you blew a laugh out of your nose in amusement at the joke. admittedly, the hug did look pretty intimate without context, but you two were close off the court. so was it really that surprising? you clicked the back button to keep scrolling. 

unprofessional af who yells at their coach like that

you didn’t disagree for sure, but it was unprofessional the way they handled her getting hit in the head, so you didn’t really care. and there were comments under it defending you for that.

it was justified imo the coach should’ve taken paige off immediately

well the was unprofessional so who cares

someone who is pissed that their coach doesn’t gaf?

there were all kinds of tweets criticizing the way coach chris handled the situation, talking about how he clearly doesn’t care about his players, and more stuff like that. you definitely didn’t think they were wrong, but you were careful not to accidentally like any of those tweets to keep yourself from being involved in drama. 

you didn’t really know what you were expecting from scrolling besides maybe some criticism over how you handled it, and criticism how the coach handled it, but you didn’t expect the tweets you saw. there were many, many tweets speculating about how you two were definitely more than just friends or teammates because you reacted to so strongly.

the way y/n looks at paige like she’s the only girl in the world

wherever y/n is, paige is #noticing

i have a theory that they’re in love 

yeah idk if her yelling at the coach like that was something u would do for just a friend

i’ve been thinking they’re in love but this just solidified it

there were hundreds more of them, too. and they went beyond just that game. people were pulling footage from earlier games, pictures and videos from practice, and pictures and videos from when you two were out in public, and the footage from the few times you two did your tunnel entrance together to find any detail they could use to prove that it was more than a friendship. 

you scrolled for a while, getting way too deep in theories about yourself, giggling at particularly funny ones and ignoring the hate, trying not to think about why everyone thought you and paige were together. sure, she had definitely earned the title of your best friend, but you had never really thought of her as anything more. right?

you definitely thought she was pretty, but that was obvious. anyone with eyes could see that she was a gorgeous girl. and she was definitely the full package–funny, caring, sweet, kind, loving. there were a lot of things you loved and admired about her, but you had never thought of it as more than just platonic love. was paige seeing these tweets? you figured maybe it was better to not mention it.

after one particularly mean tweet, you slammed your phone down on your bed and pulled up your sheets to finally go to sleep.

though, you didn’t fall asleep. instead, you tossed and turned for hours trying to get your racing thoughts to slow down. 

you couldn’t stop stressing about the way your coach handled the situation. if paige weren’t stuck on that team for the next three years, you probably would request a trade. well, you definitely could, but you didn’t want to leave her. who else would advocate for her? definitely not the coach. but you also just wanted to stay near her. you would miss her too much if you were on different teams. 

you couldn’t help but wonder if that was a thought that someone who was more than a friend would have. it was definitely the tweets making you consider, because that would never be in the front of your mind otherwise–or the back, or, like, in your mind at all. and would someone who was just a friend even be stressing about it like this? you had to say probably not. 

at around two in the morning, you crawled out of bed to grab a glass of water. you weren’t thirsty, but you hoped it would reset your mind and allow you to sleep. on your way to the kitchen, though, when you passed by paige’s door, you heard soft crying coming from the inside. 

you stood in front of it for a moment, debating whether or not you should say something–if you should knock or just leave it. despite your judgement telling you to leave it because she probably wanted to be left alone, you slowly turned the knob and opened the door. 

she was lying on her side, facing away from the door with her hair sprawled out behind her, but you could see her shoulders shaking slightly still. she didn’t turn around or acknowledge you, but you knew she heard the door open. you softly closed it, making sure it wasn’t too loud, then walked over to the bed. without any hesitation, you lifted the comforter up and crawled under. she was near the end of the bed, so you didn’t have to move much before you were right next to her. you wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back flush against your front.

she took a deep breath, and didn’t move except for her body relaxing in your touch. you waited for her to say something, but she remained silent, not letting any sobs escape either. 

“paige?” you whispered into her hair. you chose your next words carefully, wanting to refrain from asking if she was okay because it was pretty obvious that she was not. “what’s going on?”

she sniffed, shaking her head just barely as a reply. that wasn’t surprising, though, because she had a bad habit of internalizing her emotions–especially the hard ones. she always felt like she needed to be the strong leader who shouldn’t show weakness in front of the people who count on her. unfortunately, sometimes it even extended into her life off the court too–getting her to talk about how she’s feeling if she’s anything but good can feel like untangling a necklace in the dark. 

“you can talk to me, you know?” you tried again, tightening your arm around her slightly. “i’m not here to be anything but what you need.” 

usually, you would probably start rambling some reassurance despite a lack of reply, but you weren’t sure what direction to take here. there were several things she could be upset about–getting injured, the coaching staff, sitting out of games, all of the above. and depending on what the issue was, she may not want to hear ramblings about something else.

“are you happy i was drafted here?” she asked finally, her voice laced with insecurity. 

you were taken aback by that question, honestly. if there was one thing you were sure of about paige, it was that she moved with an unfaltering confidence in her accomplishments and hardly ever expressed anything other than that with them. it was refreshing and motivating to see someone so sure in their hard work, and it inspired you every day. this was much different than her usual mindset.

“what?” you asked, your tone maybe a little more snappy than you intended from the shock. you managed to recover before she could answer. “why do you ask that?”

“are you?” she pressed. 

“of course i am,” you said, still confused. “before i even knew you, i was so happy you were drafted to us because you’re paige bueckers. now that i do, i’m so grateful that we got the first pick because i love having you in my life. it’s great to have page bueckers on my team, but it’s even better that i get the privilege to know paige,” you answered honestly, tracing small circles into her side with your finger. “you know i love you though, so seriously, what’s going on?” 

she sucked in a breath, seemingly hesitant to give the true answer for her intense. for what reason, you weren’t sure. she should know you would never judge her no matter how silly anything she said seemed. and if she didn’t ask that question, you might’ve wondered if it was just the head injury talking.

“i don’t know. i just–this wasn’t how i expected my rookie season to go,” she almost mumbled. 

you sighed, disappointed that she was beating herself up so much over it, but not disappointed in her. and to be honest, you didn’t really know what to say to her. you could sing so many praises over her name from her character off the court to her game, but this territory was different. obviously, no one could predict this happening, especially so early, but there’s nothing she can do to reverse it. 

“i was supposed to be this player who came in, broke all these crazy records, and led the team to all these wins. instead, we’re losing all the time and i’m missing at least two games already because i slammed my fucking head into someone else,” she laughed bitterly.

“you are breaking records, at least,” you replied with an attempt at some humor to cheer her up a little bit.

“yeah, but that’s not good enough, apparently,” she said.

“according to who, paige? not according to me, your team, and the coaches. or your past teammates and coaches. so who cares what anyone else thinks? especially miserable people on the internet who could never do anything close to what you do in their lifetime.” 

“you’re gassing me up,” she mumbled to try to lighten the mood, attempting to bite back the smile threatening to rise to her face at the praise. receiving compliments from you always made her feel better, no matter how down she was, and made her feel more accomplished than from anyone else.

“i’m just telling the truth,” you chuckled.

she shifted slightly, causing you to loosen your grip you had on your waist. she used the opportunity of movement to turn around so she was facing you, your arm not moving from around her and her arms loosely crossed in front of her chest. 

suddenly, the thoughts about whether or not you truly were just friends or if you felt a little more came rushing to the front of your mind because of the proximity. your noses weren’t touching, but if you leaned forward ever so slightly, you could brush them together. not only that, but she was holding intense eye contact. but that’s just paige–she has insane eye contact no matter who she’s talking to. 

you wondered if she was thinking about the closeness, too. if her heart was pounding against her ribcage right now, if she was too aware of her breathing. if you weren’t so close, you probably would be struggling to hold eye contact, but it was a little difficult not to now. there wasn’t much else to look at unless you awkwardly craned your neck. 

your heart sank as your eyes scanned over her face to take in her appearance. in the moonlight glistening in through the window, you could see the tear streaks on her cheeks and her red rimmed, glassy eyes. her nose looked a little red where she had been wiping away snot, too.

“i messed it all up,” she said softly, her voice shaking a little. “i was supposed to come in and fix everything, to take the team out of the losing streak and keep it from staying at the bottom. we’re still losing no matter what we do, so i’m not sure i’m proving why i was the number one pick.” 

you reached up to brush her hair back and tuck it behind her ear, then let your hand drift back down to her waist. you took a deep breath to collect your thoughts, too. she put way too much pressure on herself from the get-go, and you just didn’t know how to take it off her shoulders so she could finally feel relief. it was too much for one person. 

“how are you not? weren’t you the first rookie to have a 20-piece this season? didn’t you set the record for the fastest player to get 60 points and 30 assists? aren’t you the second fastest rookie to get a points-assists double-double?”

“yeah, but we’re not winning,” she replied stubbornly, her voice lowering on the last word. 

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head a little. “so what? win or lose, your stats speak for themselves. i don’t care if people thought you were going to come in and we suddenly would be this unbeatable force. we’re a brand new team, it’s not something that can just rebuild overnight,” you explained. you knew that paige knew all of this, she had made that clear in her interviews, but apparently, she wasn’t listening when she said it. “i know it’s hard to lose so much after coming from uconn and off a national championship on top of that, but that’s way too much pressure to put on yourself.” 

“i know, i know,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “but i was expected to make all these changes and instead, i had to get injured. again. i just wanted one season where i’m healthy for the whole thing.”

“that’s just not realistic, paige. you barely had any time between college and pro season. there was no rest for your body to recharge so you’re bound to get injured,” you said, stating the obvious yet again. but clearly she needed to hear it from someone else for it to really click. “this is your chance to rest.” 

“i don’t want to rest. i want to play,” she complained, her voice a little whiny. 

“too bad,” you said with raised eyebrows, indicating you were just messing with her by your tone. “but now you can relax, rest up, and come back in demon mode with a point to prove.”

she laughed. that intoxicating, adorable, genuine laugh that you loved to hear so much, the one that always brought a smile to your face and made butterflies erupt in your stomach at the sound. 

“demon mode?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow, and poking the spot between your collarbones with her finger. “you spend too much time on online.” 

“this would be better if you didn’t make fun of me for the methods i’m using to comfort you in your time of need,” you smiled fondly. 

you couldn’t deny the sudden urge to lean forward, to change everything about your relationship right there by pressing your lips together in a kiss. it was almost too much for your brain to compute, though, because you had never felt that before. paige had always just been your little sister on the team, the girl who annoys you to the ends of the earth but you love her regardless. she wasn’t supposed to be the girl who made you feel like a teenager with a high school crush again. 

did she feel it too? did she feel the same electricity that you did? or was there even any? were the comments just getting into your head?

“you make it too easy,” she smiled back. 

“you’re so annoying,” you groaned, rolling over so you were lying on your back next to her and staring at the ceiling instead of at her. hopefully it would take some of the tension out of the air that was suffocating you. but then she giggled at your reaction. you tried to pretend it didn’t tug at your heartstrings.

you expected her to stay where she was, to keep the distance you had made between you two, but apparently she was full of surprises tonight. instead, she scooted toward you and wiggled her body down the bed so she could lay her head on your chest, one of her arms coming up to sling over your waist, tangling your feet together. instinctively, you wrapped the arm on that side around her body, resting on her back just above her hip. 

“i really appreciate you trying to cheer me up, you know,” she said quietly. “and, like, i’m also glad i have you in my life.” 

after she finished speaking, you had a serious internal debate on whether or not to reply in a serious manner. you knew she was trying to be serious and express genuine gratitude, but you had the perfect comeback after she just made fun of you. of course, you decided that nothing in life has to be too serious all the time. 

“yeah?” you asked smugly. “well, i’m not sure if i am anymore. all you do is bully me.” 

you could imagine she was smiling at your words. the classic paige smile that made you and everyone around her smile too, the contagious happiness that radiated from her like she was the sun. 

“i’m here to keep you humble,” she replied. one of the things you loved most about her is her ability to not take things so seriously just like you, that she loved to joke around and try to put a smile on people’s faces, no matter what. “your head is already big, can’t let it get bigger than that. not on my watch.”

you gasped dramatically, your mouth dropping open in shock, tilting your head down to look at her to see if she really just had the audacity to say that. “what?!”

she tilted her head to look at you too, biting her lip to hold back the cackles she wanted to spill but it didn’t stop the smile. 

“big head?!” you cried, your face a mix of confusion and annoyance at her words. “bitch, you better be joking with me right now.” 

this time, she definitely cackled. the sound was loud compared to the quiet room, but you didn’t mind. you were just glad you were able to make her laugh this hard. it felt like you won an award every time you did, especially while on camera during media because then there was proof (and you could watch it back).

“it’s okay i still love you,” she replied, still somewhat laughing, reaching her hand up to pat you on the top of your head. “big head and all.” 

“nah, get off me,” you said. you gave her a lethal side eye before pushing her off you somewhat roughly–only because you knew she wouldn’t move if you didn’t add a little force to it. she laughed loudly again, not even trying to latch on so you couldn’t push her off like you assumed she would. 

instead, she rolled on her back, clutching her stomach from her inability to contain her laughter at your reaction. this time, the tears in her eyes were from joy instead of the endless pressure of expectations that come with being the number one pick on the worst team in the league. 

you managed to hold in your laughter to not give her the satisfaction, instead sporting an annoyed expression as you stared at her and waited for her to finish. however, when she opened her eyes and saw your face, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing again. 

“i regret coming in here,” you grumbled, crossing your arms across your chest. “if i had just kept walking, i could live peacefully in ignorance under the assumption that you thought i had a regular-sized head. life would've been better that way.”

she let her laughter die down while you were speaking, allowing her to be able to give a coherent reply, but she still couldn’t stop the giggles. “okay, okay. ‘m sorry.” 

you stared at her, narrowing your eyes. “yeah, that wasn’t genuine. i’m going back to my own bed where there’s peace and quiet.” 

before you can stand, or move at all really, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward her in protest. her face instantly dropped from her big, goofy grin into a sad expression paired with puppy dog eyes. 

“wait,” she said, then used her free hand to touch her head and put an expression on her face like she was in pain. “ah, my head. it hurts so bad. i think i need you to stay here with me tonight. you know, to make sure i live to see the morning.” 

you rolled your eyes at her antics, but it made you a little nervous. sure, you two were touchy, but it had never gone further into this territory. you had never shared a bed. that was a whole new game that you weren’t sure if you were ready to play. that was something so intimate, so trusting of one another–it felt a little more than friendly. maybe it was just you who thought that. you had shared a bed with so many friends before, especially as a teen, but this time felt different.

“you’re so dramatic,” you laughed, gently shoving her arm. 

she didn’t reply. instead, she boldly rolled her body over so she was lying on top of you with her full weight, her head resting on your collarbone, and her arms thrown lazily above both of your heads. obviously, she wasn’t that heavy, so it didn’t bother you–she felt like a warm weighted blanket since she was pretty skinny for how tall she was. it definitely helped that you were the same height but actually had a little more meat on your bones than her, though.

you stayed still for a few moments, though, your brain glitching at the sudden contact of your bodies pressing together. your arms stayed awkwardly at your sides for a little too long, but then you slowly let them wrap around her body. she hummed in content at that, shifting slightly to get comfortable, her head seemed to nestle even further into your collarbone. 

you tried to steady your breathing to slow your heart rate, not wanting her to notice how it was beating embarrassingly fast. hers was slow, like it didn’t bother her. it bothered you, though. not in a bad way, but in a down bad way. the weight of her body, the feeling of her heartbeat beating against your chest, the feeling of her breath fanning against your neck–god, you were in trouble. 

“i’m feeling better already,” she said softly, breathing out a deep sigh. 

“maybe i should’ve gone into nursing instead,” you joked, reaching up to brush all of her hair one side so it didn’t get in your face. 

she shook her head against you as best as she could, tensing her body like she was squeezing you tighter even though her arms weren’t necessarily in the position to do so. 

“then you would’ve never met me,” she argued, her tone dripping in the implication of what a ridiculous thing to say. 

“darn, i’d have to live my life still thinking i have a regular-sized head,” you deadpanned, not allowing your tone to falter to anything but serious–not even letting a little giggle slip through the cracks. you were good at that kind of humor, though, and sometimes it made it impossible for your teammates to tell if you were being for real. 

“somebody would’ve told you the truth eventually,” she giggled.

even though you had done it a million times tonight at her silliness, you didn’t roll your eyes. of course, if she was looking, you definitely would’ve, but there was no point if she couldn’t see it. instead, you paused, taking your bottom lip between your teeth in thought as you debated saying the words that were sitting heavy in the front of your mind, staring at the ceiling like you would find the answer for what you should do.

“you know, paige,” you started, your voice barely a whisper, sucking in a quick breath to ease your nerves. “i would’ve met you whether i went into nursing, you were drafted to a different team, or neither of us even played basketball. it doesn’t matter what could’ve happened because i would’ve always found you.”  

she didn’t respond right away. the vulnerable words hung between you two heavily, yet it didn’t feel suffocatingly tense like you thought it would. instead, you were just glad you were able to get them out in the open to let her decide which direction to steer them in. she let them sink in before she opened her mouth, not wanting to say the wrong thing and mess up the moment. 

you didn’t really know what you were expecting her to say, or even what you were hoping her reply would be. on one hand, you wanted her to say something equally as sappy so you didn’t feel alone in being emotional, and to know she felt the same way without needing to read between the lines. on the other hand, you wanted her to say something unserious, to diffuse the emotionally charged energy that was making the hair on your arms stand straight up–something that would imply that she felt the same, but didn’t straight up say it to leave a bit of wonder and make your heart flutter.

“for real?” she finally asked, her voice cracking like she didn’t fully trust that the words actually came out of her mouth. you could imagine she had a smile on her face and red, flushed cheeks, too. 

you should’ve known she would’ve said something like that. no matter how many awards she won, how many compliments she received on social media from fans, and how many veterans treated her like she was a force to be reckoned with, she was still as humble as ever–still getting flustered when someone (particularly someone close to her) gives her praise about anything, especially when it wasn’t related to basketball. 

“for real,” you replied, smiling to yourself. 

she turned her head slightly to shyly rub her forehead against your collarbone like she was trying to hide from your gaze, even though she wasn’t in your line of sight. still, she felt warm and electric sitting there, like if she didn’t move she would be jolted. like your gaze was the one sending the electricity through the air even though it was trained on the ceiling instead of her. like she couldn’t believe you had said that to her and meant it. 

“like…” she paused, picking at the sheet a little bit as she gathered her thoughts, “even if i lived in the woods off the grid with no way to contact the outside world?”

you huffed out a laugh at the question, not even surprised by her saying something ridiculous and stupid like that as a way to ask for reassurance without actually asking for it. you tightened your arms around her middle so you could shift slightly without moving her, but didn’t loosen them too much after. 

“hm,” you hummed like you were unsure. then paused, pretending to seriously consider that it was a possibility and the solution to that problem. “yeah, i’d find a way. maybe one day i really felt the need to go hiking in those specific woods, and i just can’t shake the urge. so i go, then i accidentally run into your camp along the way. boom, i found you in that timeline. easy money.”

she laughed softly, a fondness laced into the sound, too. “you don’t even like hiking.” 

“exactly, so if i suddenly have the urge to do something i hate, i better listen because it’s probably for a good reason,” you stated matter-of-factly, like you had already considered that. you were quiet for a few moments to give her a chance to reply, but she didn’t immediately give you one, so you spoke again. “have you ever heard of those philosophical theories of the universe or the ones in mythology?”

“no,” she answered. of course, the question was extremely vague so you expected to have to explain anyway. plus, you kind of figured, given her christian faith, that she didn’t read too far into that kind of stuff. you did though, just because it was interesting as the philosophy and history nerd you were.

“well, in philosophy, there’s the inevitability theory. it basically says that certain things in our life are predetermined and will unavoidably happen, no matter the choices we make. even if you could go back in time to do something totally different than the way you originally did–like if i had decided to take dance serious instead of basketball when i was eight–it would still cause those certain things to happen,” you explained, confidence dripping in your tone because this was definitely your niche. after all, you graduated college summa cum laude with a bachelor's of arts degree in philosophy with a double minor in history and mythology and theology. 

again, you paused to let her reply or maybe ask a question to clarify. or even tell you she didn’t care–which she was too nice to say that to you out loud–but you were always worried that someone would tell you that while you were rambling about this kind of stuff since it can be boring to most people. but it didn’t matter, because she always cared when you talked to her about this stuff. not because she personally found it interesting enough to research on her own, but because she loved to listen to you speak about things you were passionate about. she wanted to hear about it purely because it was something you loved. 

“in norse mythology, there’s the norns. they are three female beings who are said to be the most powerful beings in the universe because they control what happens to everyone in the universe, mortal and god, by weaving together the threads of fate,” you continued, running your fingertips gently up and down her spine. 

her breathing was starting to slow like she was getting sleepy, but you continued talking anyway. “or, you might know this one from, like, tiktok or something; the red string of fate from east asian mythology. it’s been adapted from the original ancient theory to be more modernized to apply to more than just a romantic relationship between a man and a woman, though. basically, it says that two people are tied together with a red string that will eventually bring them together. the thread can be pulled and tangled, but it won’t break–to symbolize regardless of what happens or how far away they are from each other, they are destined to have a meaningful relationship together.” 

“yeah, i’ve heard that one,” she mumbled, her voice having a trace of sleepiness when she spoke.

“or, like, in christian theology, there’s predestination–god has already chosen certain outcomes for us, but theologists think it’s supposed to be referring to being predestined for salvation. you could definitely interpret it to be about certain events being predestinated to happen, though. but it’s a calvinist theory, and kind of contradicts the premise of free will in the bible so it’s really debatable,” you said, lowering your voice slightly to hopefully aid in putting her to sleep instead of keeping her awake. you just hoped it was taking her mind away from the dark place it had wandered earlier. 

again, you pause, waiting to see if she wanted to reply. she doesn’t, but you know she’s still awake because of the way her foot is shaking against yours. you had just thrown a lot of information (irrelevant information, at that) at her, so she could just be processing, but you hoped that she wasn’t shaking her foot to force herself to stay awake for your ramblings like this. 

“if we want to get real unserious, i could tell you what they say about it in doctor who,” you said with amusement, testing to see if she was bored of you talking yet. 

“doctor who?” she echoed, laughing afterwards. “you’re such a nerd.”

“basketball is just how i maintained my cool status. it’s not reflective of my true spirit,” you joked. 

though, you were kind of serious. you definitely would’ve been considered one of those weird kids that people make fun of online if you weren’t so good at basketball. and, you hate to say it, if you weren’t conventionally attractive–both in your facial features and your tall stature and athletic build. at first glance, someone probably wouldn’t assume that you spent your free time reading history textbooks and nonfiction books at the library after practice, giving yourself unnecessary homework. or that you had a life-sized cutout of matt smith facing your bed. 

not that your actual friends would’ve cared because they knew (of course, you had many sleepovers so it was hard to avoid them finding out) and didn’t mind hearing about your interests, but there were always those select few insecure, mean girls who hated when other people experienced joy–especially if the joy came from something they deemed to be cringe.

“tell me about it,” she replied gently. her finger moved down from where it was rested against the sheet by your head to trace over the neckline of your t-shirt, her fingertip occasionally brushing over your skin. 

you tried not to let it distract you as you cleared your throat, desperately trying to will the information that had suddenly gone out the window to come back to your mind so you didn’t look suspicious. luckily, you managed not be too outwardly obvious that her touch was playing tricks on your mind. 

“um, well, the doctor called the idea the burden of the time lords when he told donna that he couldn’t save everyone in pompeii eruption, even if he wanted to because it was a fixed point. it’s, like, an event that is so pivotal that even time lords can’t tamper with it because it has to happen or it would fracture time. it doesn’t have to happen exactly the way it originally did, but, like, the basic concept has to remain in tact. like how they ended up saving some people from pompeii but not all of them.”

with closed eyes, she moved the finger that was tracing over your neckline to tap you gently in the middle of your forehead a couple times. “big brain,” she chuckled sleepily, then returned her finger to its previous action. “it’s cool that you know so many things.” 

you couldn’t fight the small smile that rose to your lips at her words of praise, feeling accomplished that she thought you were smart. her breathing started to slow again, though slower and deeper than before–indicating that this time she really was falling asleep. you switched from tracing over her spine to rubbing slow, gentle circles into her back with your palms. 

though, before she could drift off into a peaceful sleep after her stressful day, she broke the silence once more. 

“this is my fixed point,” she said, her voice quiet and breathy from her sleep quickly approaching to take her away. 

you sucked in a deep, sharp breath in surprise, your hands stalling their movement on her back for a moment before recovering. though, you didn’t reply, knowing she probably wasn’t even still awake to hear it. 

of all the things you assumed she would say, that was not one of them. it wouldn’t have been surprising if she agreed with you that meeting you would always happen no matter what, or even if she didn’t say anything at all. but that was probably the last thing you expected to hear. 

it slapped you in the face with emotions you were not ready to confront, suddenly making you aware of how fast your heart was beating underneath her–it felt like it could burst out of your ribcage and run away. and you almost felt a little nauseated, too, just because of the overwhelming feeling. 

this is my fixed point.

this moment. after hitting her head, being placed under concussion protocol, and told she would have to miss at least two games of her rookie season. after she had been bawling her eyes out over the expectations that people were pushing on her, the ones she was pushing on herself, and feeling more insecure over her game than she ever has. yet despite all of those things, she didn’t want this moment to be tampered with.

if you separated the moment of you two cuddling while she listened to you ramble about things she would’ve never known if it wasn’t for you–because she didn’t care about that stuff–from the reason you were even lying there with her in the first place (and only considered that part), you would understand. but when you considered everything that had taken place today, you figured she would’ve rather forget. even at the expense of forgetting this emotional moment.

you wanted to shake her awake, to demand an answer on what she meant by that. if it was a friendly statement or if she was feeling the same way you were–if it came from a place of unspoken feelings and doubts of ruining something that was already good. 

but you didn’t, you let her sleep because you knew she needed it. so you closed your eyes and tried to will yourself to sleep, too.

the following morning, it was difficult to get up. it was probably the most difficulty you’ve ever had trying to pull yourself out of bed, actually. not because her entire body weight was still on top of you, because it wasn’t. she had rolled in her sleep so she was half on you and pressed against your side, her hand still placed where it was on the collar of your shirt last night. her mouth was dropped halfway open, and you could see a little puddle of drool on the pillow. if you hadn’t left your phone in your room, you probably would’ve taken a picture.

but despite how adorable and peaceful she looked, you had to get to the gym for practice. 

you slowly and carefully peeled your body away from hers. instead of leaving her empty-handed, though, you grabbed one of the pillows she wasn’t using and slid it underneath her arm, gently setting down her hand on top of it like it was on you. she didn’t stir at all, clearly getting some much-needed deep sleep. after quietly closing the door behind you when you left, you covered your face with your hands and sighed deeply. even though you wished more than anything that paige could come to practice, you were glad to get some separation so you could think over not just what happen last night, but the way you were feeling after. 

you tried to push it to the back of your mind while you got changed, put your hair in a ponytail, and grabbed your keys off the island where they were. you glanced at where she had thrown her bag last night when you first walked in, noticing that the space was now empty. she probably walked out and grabbed it after you were already lying in bed.

and you managed to drown out the thoughts on your drive to the arena, turning the volume up in your car to fifty and playing songs that you knew couldn’t possibly relate to the situation, even if you squint. though, you didn’t sing along like usual, just stared ahead at the road with a tense grip on the steering wheel. 

practice was a great distraction. despite the comments about paige not being there from the coaches and teammates, and your teammates asking if she was doing okay, you managed to keep your mind pretty fixed on the task at hand. you channeled all those feelings into the defensive drills, knocking down your teammates and practice players with the same aggressiveness as usual–only subtly turned up just a notch. you would have to really know your game to know that you were playing different than usual. paige definitely would’ve known. 

you didn’t even think about it as you moved across the floor swiftly, executing the drills effortlessly. that is, until it was time for the usual end-of-practice shoot-around. there were no team drills, no team activities, just working on your shots in your own (or with a partner or small group, if you wanted) with one of the assistant coaches. this would usually be the time that the media team was able to capture the most amount of footage of you and paige messing around for the instagram page, whether it was a candid shot or something organized. 

and that made it impossible not to think about her and your feelings for her.

you were so confused, rightfully so, about what exactly was going on. did you even feel anything more than friendly for her or are you just letting the comments play tricks on you? had the thought of being more than friends ever crossed her mind, even if it was just once? did she feel the energy shift between you last night? 

she had to have. it felt so obvious. the air in that room was so thick, you’re not sure that a chainsaw was powerful enough to cut it.

is her feeling that energy why she said what she said? did she even realize she said it or was she speaking in a half-asleep daze? would she stress about it like you are right now? was she trying to convince herself it meant nothing? did it mean nothing?

god, there were so many thoughts racing through your mind all at once, you genuinely considered slamming your head against the brick wall of the gym to get them to quiet down. but that wouldn’t do you any good, you’d be placed in concussion protocol too. and that would definitely look a little suspicious on your part if you got them so close together, and if they published the reason you were placed in it.

even though you had only been shooting for five minutes, you decided to take a water break try to calm down a little bit after missing three mid-range jumpers in a row. it wasn’t even that shots weren’t landing like they were supposed and generally having a bad shooting day, you were just barely paying attention to what your body was doing, what your form looked like, and if they were going to go in–your mind somewhere else entirely. 

you sat on one of the folding chairs, reaching under it to grab your water bottle. your phone was sitting next to it on the floor and for some reason, you hesitated–debating on if you should grab it or not. it was common for you to bring your phone on the floor like this, just because it made you feel less anxious having it close in case something were to happen, but you, pretty much, never checked it until practice was over. you didn’t really have a reason to. 

the only person you wanted to talk to was standing right there on the court with you.

and maybe the unusual, overwhelming urge you had to check your phone while practice was still running because she wasn’t there. you snatched it from it’s position on the wood, quickly tapping the screen to see the notifications you had missed. you tried to bite back the smile when you saw paige’s name at the top from imessage. 

boogie 

y’all miss me yet or what

once, after practice was over and the team was still hanging around waiting for one of the coaches to grab something from the locker room so you could have your post-practice meeting, you all got in a group discussion about nicknames that they were given by your respective high school and college teams. after she said the important ones like p and paige buckets, she mentioned one of her lesser known nicknames, p boogers, that was used a lot during the 2023-2024 season by her teammates at uconn, specifically kk–who was the one who came up with it–but it was only used periodically after that. 

of course, you were determined to give it a comeback because it was hilarious. even though when you were verbally speaking to someone, you didn’t use nicknames that much, you decided to utilize it other ways. like changing her contact name to that, and you had used it in a few instagram captions and comments. and between those captions and comments, it had somehow evolved from p boogers to boogie. you don’t even remember how, but you don’t think you’ve ever actually called her either of those names when speaking to her. unless someone introduced themselves with a nickname when you met them, you mainly just used their name. whatever name they introduced themselves with, whether it was their full first name or a nickname, was the one you stuck with and you rarely ever didn’t follow this unspoken rule you had made for yourself.

your fingers moved quickly across the screen to type in your passcode after your face id denied and opened the imessage app, trying to remind yourself that you couldn’t sit here for too long and needed to get back to shooting. not that it mattered too much because the coaches wouldn’t say anything, you’re a professional. they don’t babysit you anymore like in high school and college.

you

nah

we actually don’t need u anymore sorry

boogie

you’re supposed to be miserable without me

you

why would i be 

i can actually get shots up without this random annoying girl trying to distract me

boogie

don’t know why you’re complaining

i’m just simulating real game situations

it’s important to practice how u play

you

real situations huh

nobody is gonna try to pants me in the middle of a game

boogie

u never know

now i’m gonna do it to prove to u that it can happen

you

bruh we’re on the same team

u just want to see me without pants sooo bad

boogie

maybe i do 👀

you nearly choked on your own spit as the clearly flirty message came in. you and paige didn’t really have the type of friendship for you to brush it off as nothing, too. you two were often physically close, complimented each other, and said that you loved each other often (often being everyday, of course), but never straight up flirted with one another, even as a joke. you only “flirted” if an outside observer perceived a conversation as flirty while listening in, like when you would compliment each other on the court or hug in the tunnel, but it was never like that on purpose. and you don’t think that really counted anyway.

you

gonna start tying my shit extra tight

and avoiding u at all costs

if u need to talk to me, you’ll have to yell across the court bc that’s as close as i’m getting

boogie

☹️

i’m never coming back

you

thank god

get off ur phone concussed ass

as soon as you pressed send on the second message, you threw your phone back under the chair and shot out of your seat to get back to working on your shots. the short break definitely didn’t help because your shot accuracy is just about the same as when you started, if not worse. not that you were surprised, because now you had all new material for this situation to stress over that was fresh in your mind.

that message could’ve meant nothing. she could’ve been playing around, flirting as a joke, not really meaning for you to take it so seriously and stress about it. but that wasn’t really like her, her humor wasn’t like that–at least, with you. you had to wonder if she was being bolder after sharing a bed, which she was, for sure, that was obvious. but was it because you shared a bed, and cuddled all night on top of that? was she also battling with the same internal struggle as you were, trying to decipher hidden meanings behind everything that probably weren’t even there in the first place? 

“have you talked to paige today?” a voice broke you from your trance. 

you froze in place at her name. you tried your best to be nonchalant about, though, as you shifted the ball you were holding to rest on your hip, turning your body to the culprit. it was maddy, of course. you had been fairly close with her ever since you got drafted together. you knew of each other in college, following each other on instagram, but you never talked to her before that. obviously not as close as you were with paige, but you were still good friends. 

“uh,” you started, scrambling to rack your mind for a good answer that wasn’t literally oh yeah, she stayed the night and we slept in the same bed, no biggie, she’s as good as she can be. but you were overthinking that anyway. would it really be that weird to say she slept over? probably not, it wasn’t a secret that you two were close outside of work, and you both had mentioned sleeping over at each others’ apartments multiple times. it felt different to admit it this time though, like you were talking to someone new and trying to keep it quiet in case it doesn’t work out. instead of being honest about the sleepover, you just went with your safest option while still maintaining honesty. “yeah, she was just texting me.”

“is she doing okay?” maddy asked genuinely. she didn’t seem to be suspicious of your behavior. yet, anyway. “i feel so bad for her.”

“yeah, um, she’s okay. pretty bummed about missing so much, but what can you do, you know? she was just asking me if we missed her yet,” you replied, sliding in the last part to ease the tension you had worked up. 

maddy laughed. “i’ll check in on her later. my phone is in my locker and i assumed you had spoken to her since i last saw her anyway, so i figured i could ask you for now in case she doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“i know she’d love to hear from you,” you said genuinely, shooting her a reassuring smile. 

“i’ll let you get back to shooting,” she said as she walked down the court to the other hoop where she had come from. 

you shook your head to try to shake some of the awkwardness out of you from that interaction because there was no reason for you to feel awkward. it didn’t mean anything that she had asked you about paige instead of just texting her herself, especially because she probably knows that concussion protocol says to limit screen time. 

you managed to get through the rest of the shoot-around without a problem, though it passed by way faster than you hoped it would. to make up for it, you decided to shower here at the arena instead of at home which was a rarity. and you didn’t even check your phone either.

yes, you were literally only doing it to prolong seeing paige again. she probably wasn’t even still in your apartment unit, though, so you don’t know why you felt the need to do it. you loved her, seeing her, spending time with her. yet, today it felt like the last thing you wanted to do. it wasn’t her fault, either, it was you and your stupid feelings. you didn’t need to complicate things like this when she’s recovering from a potential injury, especially one that could be as serious as that. 

but that was the other thing, it wasn’t even complicated. you were just making things up in your head to justify your avoidant behavior at this point. 

your heart pounded the entire drive home in anticipation, your palms getting more and more sweaty the closer you got to the building. you found yourself subconsciously looking to see if her car was there, and it was, parked in her assigned spot. duh, she can’t drive by herself, you muttered to yourself.

when you walked through the front door of your apartment, not even bothering to turn the light on, you were greeted with the sound of silence rather than paige’s voice. the couch was empty and the tv switched off, but she could still be in the bedroom? she is supposed to be sitting in the dark. before you could turn to go down the hallway and check, you noticed a paper sitting on the counter of the kitchen. 

of course, you couldn’t ignore the curiosity bubbling up inside you, so you walked over to it somewhat cautiously. you’re not sure why, because who else would’ve written it besides paige? it’s not like someone is going to break in your house and leave you a convenient little note to apologize before leaving, or that a murderer would wait for you to read it before they killed you. 

when you picked up the paper and got a good look, you would’ve recognized that handwriting anywhere.

i would say i hope you had a good practice but i know you didn’t because i wasn’t there

went back to my apartment to shower and change 

please text me when you’re back!!!

– love,

your favorite basketball player of all time

the funniest person you know 

the best part of your day 

the reason the sun rises every morning 

the source of your happiness

the reason you haven’t requested a trade yet

you laughed when you saw all the names she added to her signature, not at all surprised by any of them. you did as the note said, pulling out your phone to shoot her a text to let her know you’re back. she had replied back from earlier, too, when you were texting her during practice.

boogie

yes m’am 

it was simple and casual, but it still made your stomach flip a little bit. it shouldn't have, but goddamn, you were down atrocious over this girl. 

you

my fav player is a’ja but i love the confidence!

boogie

so you’re rooting for the enemy?

you

be fr

boogie

i’m just saying 

that’s like betrayal

i’m ur fav wing at least right

you

in ur dreams

boogie

😥

open the door

you immediately glanced toward the front door, then back at your phone, debating whether it was necessary to answer. ultimately, you decided to just walk over and open it rather than put in the effort to reply and open it. it’s been a long day, what can you say?

when you swung it open, you were met with the sight of paige, her purple glasses perched on her nose, hair pulled back into a messy low bun, dressed in a random team hoodie, black nike sweatpants, white socks, and slides on her feet, and her lips pulled in a grin when she saw you. 

you stepped to the side to let her in, closing the door as she sat herself on the couch like she had done so many times before. however, it felt like the first time. it felt like an awkward first date with someone you matched with on a dating app where you’re so nervous you can hardly catch your breath, but they seem as cool as can be. 

just like the night before, you ordered food off of her doordash account, putting on a movie to watch while you enjoyed it. you told her what you did in practice, conveniently leaving out any parts that would involve confessing that you really did miss her being there, even if it had only been one day. you could tell she was already really missing being there too by the sad glint in her eyes and the way her smile didn’t quite reach them. 

you knew that paige hated missing training, especially for injuries. she had spent so much of her time at uconn injured, that she wanted to have a clean slate and start her professional career off right with a completely healthy season for once. but that goal was over almost as quickly as it began. she barely even had a chance to prove why she really was the number one pick, the girl everyone was raving about, the girl everyone said was on the same level on the greats. you just wished you could take that pain away that you knew was eating her up. 

for the rest of the evening, you sat on the couch with her in your dark living room. as you were sitting on opposite ends, your feet were tangled together in the middle under the giant blanket you were sharing. you had the tv going, though it was softly playing some medical show, mostly for you as she took periodic naps. you had figured out how to turn the brightness of the screen down, too, hoping to reduce any strain in case she wanted to watch when she was awake. 

you were growing more and more anxious over the possibility of her sleeping over again as each minute ticked by. you definitely wouldn’t mind if she did, but there was a game tomorrow. before she was put in protocol, she made sure to always be in bed by 8pm the night before a game to prioritize her rest, for recovery purposes, and try to keep her body as healthy as possible. 

you definitely weren’t as strict with yourself as she was, but she always tried to impose her pre-game rules on you. even though you weren’t worried about that kind of stuff like she was, you always followed along. because if a girl with a player bio that extensive was telling you that doing something would make you a better player, you’re obviously going to do what she says. though, you have yet to notice a big jump in your stats and you never felt much different either, you always assured her that it was definitely helping and you definitely felt much better than before. just a little white lie to make her happy and put a smile on her face, of course.

to no surprise, once the clock read seven-thirty, she jumped to her feet. 

“time for you to get ready for bed,” she said with a smirk, holding out her hand to help you up off the couch. “big game tomorrow. you gotta avenge me.” 

you rolled your eyes while shaking your head to feign annoyance, but took her hand anyway. she yanked you up easily, but put too much momentum into it, causing you to stumble forward and crash into her chest. 

“woah,” she said, the word slipping out without permission. 

your hands landed on her waist in a subconscious effort to stay upright, but you quickly pushed yourself away from her, putting a little more distance than necessary between the two of you. when her face contorted a little in confusion, you mentally cursed at yourself for the insane reaction. there was literally no reason for you to do that, to make it a bigger deal than it was. you were just trying to not make it awkward–which, of course, made it a hundred times more awkward than it would've been. 

after a few moments of observing you, she broke the silence. “um, are you good?” she asked slowly, seemingly unsure of where to tread. 

“yeah, i–um–” you started, then paused, pointing your finger towards nothing as you searched for an excuse somewhere, anywhere in your brain that would make even a little bit of sense. you came up with nothing, though, because there really was no good excuse for that. “i just wasn’t expecting to fall was all.” 

you avoided eye contact as you waited for a reply, hoping that she would believe it. if she couldn’t see you right now, you would drop on your knees and plead to whatever god–or entity or whatever else people worship–was listening that she believed it and didn’t question you further, maybe you would even offer your firstborn child to get out of it. or maybe selling your soul would be better?

apparently, no one was listening. 

“yeah,” she said, clearly not at all convinced. “you’ve been weird since you got home. was it that text i sent you at practice? because i swear i was just–”

before she could finish her sentence, you cut her off. “no, no. it’s not that. i’m just–” you paused, once again looking for any excuse that you could possibly latch onto and run with. “–nervous about the game tomorrow.”

“right,” she replied slowly, furrowing her brows in confusion. you couldn’t tell if she straight up didn’t believe you or if she was trying to decide whether or not she did, but this time, she didn’t press it. she threw her hand up before she opened her mouth, using her thumb to point at the door. “i’m gonna head out. text me when you wake up so we can get breakfast before you have to be there?”

“of course,” you nodded, watching as she started walking toward the door. “rest up, paige.” 

she didn’t reply, but stuck her hand and the air and pointed up as acknowledgement as she grabbed the doorknob, pulled it open, then shut it softly behind her. 

you blew out a breath of relief, grateful for that terribly awkward interaction to be over so you don’t have to be drowning in it anymore. you wanted to punch yourself in the throat for acting like this, but you had been spiraling all day about whether or not you had feelings for paige, romantic feelings so now everything felt so much more emotionally loaded than before. but was it different than before?

you made an attempt to collect yourself as you stood there, contemplating whether or not you should just crawl in a hole and die to avoid having to reflect on that interaction again. the decision was that maybe it wasn’t the best idea the night before a game, or just in the middle of the season in general. maybe once the season ends, you’ll find a nice wooded area somewhere in the middle of nowhere when you can dig a hole to spend the rest of your days in. maybe in appalachia? no one goes in those woods because they’re afraid to see something supernatural. or maybe the mountains of utah? though, you weren’t the biggest fan of snow so the winters would be hard. god, this could've been avoided if you just approached these situations like a normal person instead of making them ten times worse than they had to be.

you slapped your palms against your forehead, both as a punishment and to get yourself out of your head. after taking a few calming breaths, you moved toward your bedroom to do as paige said–get ready for bed. you could only hope to get even five minutes of sleep tonight though, knowing the interaction, the sleepover last night, the new feelings, and the flirty texts she had sent would haunt you every time you closed your eyes. well, they were haunting you even with your eyes open, so there wasn’t much hope there. damn, you were going to play like shit the next day if you couldn’t chill out. 

without thinking twice or even allowing yourself to consider skipping, you pushed open the door to the bedroom and then the one to your en suite bathroom as well to turn on the shower. the water was hot against your skin, turning it red on contact, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. it’s not like it hurt anyway, it just looked like it did.

your eyes stared intensely at the water going down the drain, wishing you could wash away with it. at this point, your thoughts were racing through your mind so quickly, you couldn’t even settle on just one to stress over, so you felt a little fuzzy–or maybe disconnected was the better word. you barely even blinked too, meaning you were in a classic state of dissociation. 

you didn’t know how long you stood there just staring, barely blinking, unmoving, but the water running cold snapped you back into reality. you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt it, quickly reaching to turn off the water. you grabbed a towel of the hook and wrapped it around your body, turning to face the mirror above the sink. 

“chill the fuck out,” you whispered, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror. “you’re working yourself up over nothing.” 

the night goes by in a blur, mostly because you actually managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. you had not expected to until at least three or four in the morning because you didn’t feel tired at all, not even a little bit, even when your head hit the pillow. still, you closed your eyes to try to will your stress away, and they didn’t open back up until you heard your morning alarm going off on the nightstand next to you. 

unfortunately, the new day is no different than the one before. 

you decided to skip the breakfast with paige, feeling too nauseous to eat.

the stress was eating away at you at the pre-game practice–your legs were jiggling every time you found yourself sitting on the bench, your fingers constantly fidgeting with each other, shifting your weight from one leg to the other every couple of seconds while you were standing restlessly.

your mind was plagued with thoughts about paige. about how she felt laying in your arms or how she seemed to fit so perfectly into your side like a puzzle piece. the way she listened to you ramble about your stupid history shit she didn’t care about like it was the most interesting movie she had ever watched, and how she would smile to herself when you would watch a sporting event with her that she knew you didn’t care for, like a football game. the way your minds felt connected while you were on the court together, like she knew what your next four moves would be before you could even compute them yourself, or the way you always knew if her shot was going to go in before it even left her hand. 

how you felt sick to your stomach watching her collide with vandersloot and tumble to the floor. the sense of dread that washed over you when you realized she was lying about not having a headache after. how you couldn’t even stop yourself to think things through and calm down before you were screaming at your coach, the worry taking over you like a demon controlling every action.

the way her voice sounded as she asked you for reassurance later that night, as she let you see how truly buried in insecurity she felt. the way she blamed herself for the losses of your team rather than pointing a finger at anyone else. how puffed up her eyes were the following morning after how much she cried over it. 

how if she were there in that gym with your team, she would be passing around compliments to everyone for every little thing without a second thought. how she would be dancing to the music playing over the speakers while standing in place like a dork. how she would look towards you immediately every time she did something well–even before looking toward the coaches, or would shoot you a tight-lipped smile when she didn’t. how she would be smiling like an idiot when she effortlessly made the half-court shots, throwing her hands up like it was all in a day’s work. because it was, to her. 

she was the ray of sunshine you desperately needed. that the teamandorganization desperately needed. 

if paige had been texting you as pre-game practice went on, then as you were getting ready for the game, or as you were arriving to arena again, you didn’t know. you didn’t even look at your phone, but had put it on do not disturb so she didn’t think you were seeing them and ignoring her. it wasn’t even on purpose either, your mind was just too occupied to even think about picking it up. you contemplated turning it off completely before the game, but you didn’t want to do that without telling her first so she wouldn’t assume you blocked her. 

well, she probably wouldn’t, but things were a little too out of the ordinary right now for you to be considered mentally stable enough to be making rational assumptions. 

when they called the starting lineup, you didn’t even want to hear them say someone else instead of hers, watching them high-five the line instead of her. and when you were standing around the circle waiting for the tip-off, you barely managed to hide the disappointment when it was nalyssa standing across from you instead of paige, who would be nodding at you as her silent way of saying lock in if she was there.

and to make the game, that was bad before it even started, worse, you played like shit, throwing out any possibility of joking about getting your lick back from the team who sidelined your best player. you tried not to think about the fact that you could pretty much guarantee she was sitting on the edge of her couch in her apartment, watching you play probably the worst game you had played since getting drafted (or maybe even in general over your entire career), and how obvious it was that she carried your team on her back like a seasoned veteran despite being a rookie. 

you felt like a hot mess on the floor, and you probably looked like one to all the spectators and even those watching on the livestream too. like you had never played basketball in your life and just casually threw on a jersey before walking onto the court. like you were playing a video game for the first time ever as a kid, trying to navigate the controls while pretending you knew what you were doing, as if they didn’t seem like a foreign language to you. if you didn’t have a coach who believed in peace, harmony, and togetherness, he probably would’ve said the same things–or worse. if you were still playing for your college coach, you most likely would’ve left crying. instead, this coach just tossed out some empty statements: it’s okay, we’re learning, we’ll get ‘em next time, let’s focus on working together.

and goddamn, you were genuinely thinking about sprinting home to print your trade request paperwork and fill them out tonight to keep in preparation for the absolute shit show this season would turn out to be. so they are ready for you to turn in the second the season ends, and you don’t have to endure more of this hell than you are contractually obligated to. especially if paige doesn’t clear protocol after the seattle game. 

well, if the organization didn’t trade you before you had the chance to do so. after your outburst in the last game and your god awful stat line–so shitty a fifth grader on a recreation team probably has better numbers–from this one, you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if they tried to rush you out the door and didn’t look back before you could finish out your season.

but really, you wouldn’t be that mad if they did. you couldn’t stand this laid-back coaching style of this new coach one bit, and the fact that the new general manager supported it and continued to ignore the concerned comments from dedicated fans? like it actually irritated you to a point you didn’t know was possible to see this guy stay calm and collected during intense moments instead of getting loud. or when he would stand by the bench quietly, staring like that would do anything, instead of standing on the court arguing with the refs like he didn’t care that he could get a technical foul or two, or even be ejected. 

if you had told your college self that you missed being yelled and cussed at just for dumb little mistakes even if they were unavoidable, or watching your coach throw chairs (mind you, it was never in the direction of the players and most often because of bad ref calls), or getting automatically ejected because he got t’d up twice for being on the court, you would’ve laughed in your face and begged to trade places for someone more chill. 

guess it’s true when they say you don’t know what you got until it’s gone. 

admittedly, it got you so heated, you had created two burner, anonymous accounts on different platforms to scroll through tweets and comments on reddit threads criticizing coach chris. not that you weren’t doing it before they were created, but then you didn’t have to worry about accidentally liking one and that getting spread around tea pages. it was just better if you kept the hatred internal and keep the assumptions that you weren’t a fan of his as assumptions rather than making it obvious publicly by being messy like that. it was already unprofessional enough that you were doing it in the first place, but you had to reassure yourself that you–and your team, of course–weren’t the only ones noticing these things.

maybe at some point in the season there would be something so diabolical that it would be the turning point for you to like the hate posts publicly with your name and profile picture and all. something that would make it hard for everyone to tell the difference between you and kendrick lamar. something that would have you tapping into your full hater potential, dropping diss tracks that name-dropped him and criticized everything you could possibly criticize with nothing safe from being mentioned–starting with that dumb man bun that he feels the need to clutch onto. maybe it would even extend to the general manager too since he was an enabler for the shitty coaching, like how kendrick mentioned j. cole just once in like that, but didn’t do it again. or maybe something like his verse on big sean’s control.

you didn’t know the general manager personally so you didn’t hate him in the same way as your coach, with the same amount of passion pulled from deep inside your core that could be felt burning throughout your entire body from the top of your scalp to the tips of your toes. but it was enough that he was encouraging the shitty coaching by staying passive instead of intervening and firing the coach that isn’t delivering results to have a strong distaste for him. and not only that, he chose this guy who looks like he owns one of those overpriced trendy burger restaurants where they give you mason jars instead of cups and metal trays instead of plates for $30, fries not included–or like a temu version of jesus, as paige’s fans would say–instead of someone like the lisa leslie, a legend in women’s basketball. 

but even with how early you were in season, you definitely felt like you had collected enough material on the coach to embody the lethal, poisonous spirit of the world-destroyer atomic bomb that is meet the grahams. if he hasn’t figured this shit out by now–that something just isn’t working, isn’t clicking–then you’re not sure he ever will. and it’s obvious the problem isn’t with the players on team.

maybe before nobody wanted to really get into his faults since this was his first season in the league, they wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but you just couldn’t sit there quietly and hope things would get better anymore. you couldn’t excuse his behavior. not after he watched paige slam her head hard into someone else’s, fall to the ground, then see his entire lineup circle around her to make sure she was okay, just to keep her in the game without even briefly (at the absolute bare minimum) checking on her before it resumed. not after he claimed in an interview that he didn’t see it happen. even though when you watch the livestream back, you can clearly see him standing there next to the score table watching it all go down like it was normal and nothing to be concerned about.

you tried to understand his thought process behind that so many times, to try to understand why he handled that the way he did, but you just couldn’t. 

god, the anger burning up had your fingers itching to pick up a pen and write your own version of kendrick’s euphoria. it was so fitting for this situation too–the title referencing drake’s overconfidence in his ability to win the battle, and that fits because chris was overconfident in his ability to coach. but you digress.

it was so hard to bottle in your frustration with how your professional career was moving, but that was all you could do to keep the image you had built for yourself. the level headed player who rarely got in fights with other players and refs, and was often diffusing the tension between other players on the court whether they were on your team or not. you never found yourself on the cusp of bursting like this in college so it was easier to keep your composure, but this organization was really testing your patience. 

after the game, you had wandered into a side hallway immediately following the post-game locker room talk, needing some quiet time to collect your thoughts and chill the fuck out before you headed home–before you got behind the wheel. you pressed your forehead against the cool brick, rubbing your hands roughly over your cheeks, your breath coming out a lot shakier than you thought it would.

you felt yourself spiraling. was feeling like this really worth being able to say you played professional basketball? was pushing through really worth it at the expense of your mental wellbeing? was it really worth it to stay and lose any love left you had for the sport instead of leaving it on a high note before it got too bad?

maybe you were being dramatic, because it really wasn’t even that bad. there were many players who had it significantly worse than you, issues with their organizations that were personal, beyond the game of basketball. and it wasn’t that you were losing. you were used to losing considering last year’s season was rough enough to land you with the number one pick, but not like this. and this was one extra shitty game, so what? you’re supposed to brush it off and come back even better at the next one; you used to be able to do that just fine.

but you didn’t know how you would do that when it was like this coach just did not give a fuck. nothing ever changed, corrections were never made, and every play felt like a free-for-all instead of a cohesive play, and then he wondered why you could never hold onto a lead to save your life.

you tried to think of any reason to stay for the rest of the season. to at least stay in dallas until october instead of requesting a midseason trade or taking the rest of it off for personal reasons. anything that could even influence your decision to leave just a little bit. and there was one.

paige. 

she was your reason. she made it tolerable even when it felt like you couldn’t last another day. she made you remember why you loved the game so much, why you had dedicated your entire life to it. 

you scrambled to grab your phone from where it was tucked into the waistband of your shorts, giving yourself silent praise for grabbing it from your locker before leaving the locker room. when you tapped the screen and the while in do not disturb tab, you had quite a few missed texts from paige and you immediately felt terrible for ignoring her all day.

boogie

good luck today bestie boo

you’re the best ever so i know u don’t need it

i’ll be watching from the couch seething with jealousy but i’m happy i can put my full attention into watching u do ur thing out there

i’ll try to sit still and not get a noise complaint but no promises

you smiled, wondering how you ever got so lucky to have someone like her in your life. you wish that everyone could experience someone as supportive as her, whether it was a friend or partner. 

boogie

wait you’re on dnd

okayyyy miss locked in

triple double watch baby‼️

damn i wish i was there

um ty to whoever approved the rebel uniforms 

u look so good girl

jealous of everyone who gets to see it in person tonight

you felt heat rush to your cheeks reading the compliments from her. again, it wasn’t something that was abnormal for you two, but it hit you harder this time. you glanced down at your uniform, wondering if she intended it the way you were taking it. there were more messages, but they started to get into commentary about the gameplay, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to get into that while it was so fresh in your mind. 

instead, you tapped her contact photo and pressed call, raising your phone to your ear with a shaky hand. 

“hello?” she asked, her voice instantly making you feel better. 

“paige,” you breathed, an unexpected choked sob leaving your lips and tears welling in your eyes. you hadn’t expected to cry, you would’ve expected to punch wall before you cried tonight. this must’ve been the point where it became too much, finally spilling over. 

“hey,” she said, her voice softening in a way that you had never heard before, “it’s okay.” 

“i wish you were here,” you replied, ignoring her attempt at being reassuring. you appreciated it, but it wasn’t what you needed to hear to start feeling better. 

“i know,” her voice was small, like she was trying to be careful about the words she used to keep your emotions from spilling again. “i know. i wish i was there too. i miss playing with you already.” 

“i played like shit today,” you blurted. it came off a little snappy, but you hoped she understood that it was just because you were frustrated with yourself. 

she hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether she wanted to be reassuring or lighten the mood. “you said it not me,” she said finally, her tone playful while still trying to be careful. you were grateful for it though, because you knew she was only trying to make you laugh and cheer you up. and it was the truth, anyway, so her denying it would be a lie.

“asshole,” you muttered, but with a fond smile on your face. “i’m bawling my eyes out over here and you’re just kicking me while i’m down.” 

it wasn’t actually the truth, you weren’t crying, tears hadn’t fallen yet, but you felt like you could. you honestly felt like you could sob until your throat was raw and you lost your voice–until you didn’t have any tears left. but the sob when you answered the phone and the shakiness in your voice as you spoke probably gave her the impression that you were. 

“you want me to lie to you?” she asked seriously, but you could hear the smile on her face despite her tone. “because i can. i can pull all kinds of sweet things out of my ass for you right now, if that will make you feel better.” 

you laughed, shaking your head at her in amusement even though she couldn’t see it. “that would probably make me feel worse. you’re not very good at lying.”

“a blessing and a curse,” she replied. 

“how is it a blessing?”

“bruh, i don’t know. it just felt like the right phrase to use,” she said defensively. you could imagine she threw her hands in the air like she usually did when you were actually speaking to each other.

“you’re dumb,” you giggled. she laughed with you, just happy that you shifted to a much happier tone compared to when you first called, even if it meant you were making fun of her. not that she would ever take it too seriously from you, anyway, because you would never mean it maliciously.

there were a few moments of silence before she spoke again. “are you still at the arena?” 

you glanced around like she had caught you doing something you shouldn’t have been, like you were trespassing despite being in your own facility. when you remembered she couldn’t see you, you lowered your voice sheepishly. “um, no.” 

“i would offer to come get you, but,” she said, drawing out the u in the last word a little, “there’s a pretty big chance that someone will see me and i’ll get my ass chewed for not following protocol.” 

“i don’t think getting caught should be the part you’re concerned about here,” you replied, your tone a little sassy as you said it. “maybe we should be worrying about the fact that you would get in trouble because you might have a brain injury. knowing what happens if it doesn’t heal correctly should be enough motivation to keep you from getting behind the wheel, dipshit.” 

you threw in the name at the end to ease the tension of your words, because you were serious. you didn’t want her to brush it off like was just broken nail or something.

“you’re no fun,” she grumbled. 

“you know what else isn’t fun?” you asked, pausing like you were waiting for an answer, but you continued before she could. “post concussion syndrome, second impact syndrome, chronic traumatic encephalopathy–”

“okay, okay,” she interrupted, her tone mildly exasperated. “i hear you, damn. i’m trying to make you feel better and you’re turning it into a lecture.” 

“i would feel better if you took this seriously,” you said sternly.

“i am taking it seriously. it’s just–the possibilities for how this could turn out are really scary and i don’t want to actually think about what happens if i don’t get cleared,” she confessed. “but we’re not talking about me right now, we’re supposed to be focusing on you.” 

you blew a breath of your nose. “has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, a pro at deflecting?” 

“yes, quite a few times actually, all from the same person,” she said. “but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” 

your lips parted in surprise at her words. “you’re mean.” 

“well, can you blame me? i’m getting impatient waiting for you here,” she stated like it was obvious. you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, biting your lip to try to hide the smile threatening to rise.

“waiting for me, huh?” you teased. 

she paused to debate if she wanted to say the joke that instantly came to her mind, and ultimately decided that life is too short to keep her best material to herself. “yep, just naked and oiled up on the couch right now, feeling a little bit like a raw french fry before it goes into the deep fryer.”

your face scrunched in amusement at her joke, trying not to cackle loudly and attract anyone’s attention to figure out where it was coming from. you covered one side of face with your hand, shaking your head, deciding to play along.

“why didn’t you say so? i would’ve been out of here so fast that you wouldn’t have had the chance to hang up before i was knocking on your door,” you replied, trying to hold back the laughter. 

“too much talking, not enough driving,” she simply said in reply, barely even waiting for you to finish your sentence. 

“you know, the more you rush me, the slower i want to move,” you sassed. still, you pushed yourself away from the wall to start walking down the hallway towards the locker room. it wasn't too far of a trip, either.

“okay, fine. what do i have to do to get you to hurry up?” she asked. your heart rate quickened at her words, feeling the flirtatious tone in her words. you weren’t sure if it was intentional or if you were just hearing things, but you swear you heard it.

you hummed in thought as you threw open the door roughly, rushing over to your locker as soon as you got through the frame. “good question,” you finally said after a few seconds of silence, trying to stall for some more time for a funny answer. you couldn’t think of anything though, so you decided to flip it back onto her. “i don't know. what did you have in mind?” 

“i was really banking on you having an idea,” she admitted sheepishly.

“nice. all i get are empty promises,” you pretended to sound disappointed, falling effortlessly into the banter. you pressed the phone between your ear and shoulder as you grabbed your bag and dug around for your clothes, letting it rest on the bench for support. “let me guess, you being naked and oiled up was another one?” when you didn’t get a reply from her, you nodded your head. “of course, can’t trust anyone these days.” 

then, you grabbed your phone and tapped the speaker button, setting it down in your locker so you could clumsily strip out of your uniform. you’re not sure if you had ever gotten undressed so fast in your life, and the quickness caused you to fumble to get your sports bra over your head–of course, that would happen when you were trying to rush.

“i can do that for you, if you really want. you would have to be okay with extra virigin olive oil, though,” she chuckled. she furrowed her eyebrows when she heard the faint rustling from your end, but decided not to mention it.

“um,” you started. you were feeling a little distracted as you threw your uniform lazily in your locker, not bothering to fold it as you struggled to pull off your sweaty underwear and nike pros. luckily it was easier than the bra, so you were able to throw those in your locker quickly as well and yank your sweatpants up your legs and t-shirt over your head. “yeah, i think i’ll pass.”

immediately after you finished your sentence, you snatched your phone out of the locker, slammed the door, and grabbed your backpack so you could finally head out. 

“finally,” she muttered when she heard the sound of the door. “i was starting to think you were planning on sleeping there tonight.” 

“yeah, yeah, i’ll see you in a few,” you didn’t wait for her to reply before hitting the end call button.

you were definitely the only person left besides the janitors, so the walk to the parking lot was a little dark, but not dark enough to pull out a flash out. not that it mattered, because you practically ran even though you had just played 34 minutes of a game.

anything that could possibly slow you down on your drive happened, too. you tried to remain calm by playing sza over your car speakers, but you seemed to hit every single red light and get stuck behind every slow driver. you gripped the steering wheel until your knuckles turned white to keep yourself from screaming obscenities at the fellow drivers.

you barely waited turn your car off before you were opening the door, too, running toward the door like you had done in the arena. you didn’t really know why you were running either. earlier you had dreaded seeing paige, now all you wanted to do was be in her company. maybe talking to her had eased your mind a little bit.

when you finally got to her door, you didn’t even get the chance to knock before she swung it open, your hand hovering in the air like you were about to knock.

“were you staring through the peephole like a weirdo?” you asked with a light chuckle, dropping your hand to your side. you expected her to deny it a little too fast to not be suspicious. 

“yeah, i was. so?” she shrugged. “didn’t realize it was a crime to be excited to see you.” 

you rolled your eyes at her, shoving past to enter the apartment. she just shook her head with a fond smile, closing the door softly to keep it from slamming. you threw your backpack off to the side somewhere, plopping down on the couch and leaning back like you owned the place. this was good, normal even. it was a post-home game tradition at this point to order a big dinner to her apartment as a treat–to make yourselves feel better after losing.

she didn’t sit down immediately like you thought she would. instead, she stood with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised expectantly. you raised an eyebrow at her in return, confused. 

“why did you take so long after the game?” she blurted.

your eyes widened slightly in shock at the abruptness. “um, i don’t know,” you answered, your voice quiet because it felt like you were in trouble. so you decided to make an attempt at a joke to try to ease the mood. “just needed to gather my bearings after that absolute shit show.”

her expression didn’t change so you knew it wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “well, you ignored me all day and then took as long as humanly possible to get here.”

you hesitated, then slowly extended your arms out to her in a silent invitation. she also hesitated, shifting her weight from one leg to another, then sagged her shoulders in defeat and walked over to your spot on the couch. she dropped down next to you, wrapping her arms around your waist as yours wrapped around her body and letting her head fall to rest on your chest. 

“i’m sorry,” you said, not elaborating any further in hopes that she understood. 

“i thought you were being weird because of my texts,” she confessed. “you know, the, like, flirty ones.”

“no,” you chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what else to do. “it wasn’t because of your texts.”

“then what is it?” 

it wasn’t shocking that she wanted an answer, that she would push until she got it, but you wished she was okay with not knowing. this was a dangerous conversation to have with your confusing feelings, and it could tread into a territory you weren’t ready to enter yet if you weren’t careful. but you had hope that she had those same feelings and that was why she wanted an answer.

you fiddled with the hem of her hoodie, trying to work up the courage to speak. luckily, she didn’t make you feel rushed, like it was urgent, but you still felt that pressure from yourself.

you sucked in a breath, staring down at your lap. “when you went to the ground, i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes. i’ve never been that worried in my life.” to encourage you to continue, she grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together. “i didn’t mean to get so angry with everyone, to lose my cool like that, especially on live tv, but i was so scared.”

“i know,” she said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

you pinched your eyes shut in mild frustration, shaking your head. “no one else reacted like that, paige. no one else screamed at coach like you were dying or something. i think i care about you more than i’m supposed to.”

you opened your eyes slightly, but still made sure to keep your gaze trained away from her to avoid eye contact. you really hoped that she understood what you meant by that–what you were trying to confess to her without actually saying it.

there was a beat of silence. and then another. 

and on the third one, you fully expected her to pull away from you, to put a little distance between your bodies. to tell you that she didn’t feel the same way, that maybe you needed some space for a little bit. once again, making things up to excuse your avoidant behavior. 

finally, her tongue clicks absentmindedly. “more than you’re supposed to?” she questioned.

you couldn’t tell if she genuinely didn’t understand or just wanted you to say what you meant with your chest, but you should’ve known she wouldn’t let you skate by with a vague, cryptic answer, whether she did or not. you attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat, but it was unsuccessful.

“like,” you echoed before hesitating, trying to convince yourself that you were already knee deep in this, so you might as well just fully dive in because there was no turning back now. she already had your half-confession. but you chickened out and panicked. “i don’t want things to change between us.”

her body stiffened against you like that wasn’t what she was expecting, like you had said something she was afraid of hearing. she didn’t pull away, though, and after about a minute, she somewhat relaxed. it was a little reassuring that her hand never left yours, so you tried to cling onto to that as a motivator for working up the courage to say it.

“um, okay,” she said awkwardly quiet, a little afraid of the answer that you were avoiding by saying that. the last thing she wanted was to lose you, especially because she was assuming it was her fault–that she had done something wrong, something to make you uncomfortable.

“can i ask you something?” you whispered. though, you continued before getting confirmation. “you know last night, when we were talking about doctor who and stuff. you said that, um, you said that moment was your fixed point.” she nodded slowly. “why that one?” 

she slowly pulled her body away, even her hand, shifting to sit next to you, so you leaned forward to mirror her position. not because she felt awkward or weird or wanted to exit the conversation, but because she wanted to look you in the eyes when she spoke to reassure you that she meant every word she said. and maybe so she could read your reactions to her words too–to see if what you were saying matched how you were feeling. there wasn’t much distance between your bodies, your knees brushing in front of you, but you still felt disappointed by the lack of contact. 

“because,” she started, sucking in a deep breath like she was about shoot free-throws. “i felt…safe lying there with you, like nothing could hurt me. it felt like all of the expectations, and the pressure, and the negative comments–they didn’t exist. nothing else mattered as long as you were there.”

you felt like you were going to throw up from anxiety. you did your best to choke it down so you could speak. “yeah, but i was there because you were upset. i don’t understand why you would want to mark that as something that has to happen, i guess. especially because it followed all the concussion stuff.” 

she smiled, looking down at her lap. “it doesn’t matter.” 

“but there aren’t happier moments you’d prefer?” you asked, trying to understand her thought process. 

“that was a happy moment,” she argued.

you shot her a confused look, your eyebrows furrowed, still not understanding. sure it was eventually happy, but still.

“i was so upset, and you made me feel better almost instantly. it’s like being around you feels like taking a deep breath,” she said, glancing back up to meet your eyes. “and i just–i guess i realized that i wouldn’t change anything if it meant that i could keep that moment and that feeling of safety. i wouldn’t change banging my head against sloot's or overthinking about the comments being posted about me. hell, i wouldn’t even change tearing my acl however many years ago if it meant all of that led me to you, no matter how hard it was for me.”

honestly, you didn’t even know what to say and you weren’t usually one to be left speechless. luckily, she seemed to be on a roll with her confessions tonight.

“you’re my best friend, but i don’t see you as just that. you’re like my other half. better half, maybe,” she chuckled with a casual shrug. 

against your better judgement, you allowed a joke slip past your lips before you could think it through, but you couldn’t help it. the emotionally loaded tension was making you feel a little awkward and clumsy with your intentions and actions, rather than your usual certainty. and yet again, your avoidant behavior was coming to the surface again.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you were confessing your love for me.” it wasn’t meant to be anything but a light-hearted statement, a comment about the intensity of the moment, but you knew that it much more than that when she just stared at you with a blank expression. you threw your hands in the air defensively for a few seconds before throwing them back down into your lap. “woah, i was kidding.”

she licked her lips, suddenly feeling more confident than she did five seconds ago. “what if i am?” you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but she leaned forward slightly like there was a magnet pulling her closer to you. “and what if i’m not kidding?”

your eyes darted across her face, trying to fight to urge to run away from this sudden confrontation of very real emotions like you usually would. you swallowed again, but it was uncomfortably dry and the urge to throw up suddenly significantly stronger than before.

“yeah, um, cool,” you scrunched your eyes together at the painfully awkward response, feeling that one hit deep in your soul. that would definitely be the subject of your nightmares for the next few years and cause lasting damage that would carry over into your next lifetime, and maybe even the one after that.

you expected her to pull away at that, to assume it’s a rejection, but she knows you. instead, she glanced down at your lips for a brief moment, then smiled. once you noticed how close she really was–like the tips of your noses were probably only a centimeter apart–you swear you stopped breathing. not only that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere except in her eyes out of nervousness.

“cool?” she nodded, shifting her gaze down to your mouth and keeping it there. 

you didn’t trust your voice to remain steady, so you just nodded in agreement.

“yeah?” she whispered this time, clearly mirroring your words and actions. 

your lips parted without permission in anticipation, but you didn’t nod again, expecting her to lean forward and close the gap between you. much to your surprise, she stayed still.

“still don’t want things to change?” she asked quietly, her eyes flicking back to yours to watch your reaction. 

the action caused you to close your mouth so you could wet your bottom lip with your tongue. you didn’t really intend for it to be something suggestive or flirty, or add to the moment at all, just a nervous habit but she swallowed nervously when she saw it. she hoped you didn’t notice the way she squirmed a little in her seat.

“depends,” you answered, tilting your head just barely. maybe it was just a natural shift by your body that didn’t mean anything, maybe it was a challenge. you didn’t really have an answer for what it depended on, though, you were just saying that to be annoying–to keep her tiptoeing on this line for fun, have her wondering what she has to do to win you over.

“on…” she trailed off as a signal for you to finish her sentence. you expected her to ask that, of course; you shrugged gently.

“i dunno,” you whispered noncommittally, a smug smirk making its way onto your lips.

“you don’t know, huh?” she challenged, her smile never faltering. it felt threatening, like she was about to ruin your life and she knew it.

she tilted her head, breaking this unwavering stand-off you were in to lean forward. she was stubborn and competitive, you knew that, so you didn’t expect her to give in so easily. her lips barely brushed against yours, offering nothing for you to imagine what they would feel like on yours, except a feathery light touch. it wasn’t surprising; she was trying to get you to break. unlucky for her, you were just as competitive and even more determined.

“easy, rookie,” you said, adding a breathy laugh to the end. 

her mouth fell open slightly in surprise and her cheeks flushed, obviously not expecting you to call her that–especially when you were off the court. 

“what?” she giggled, a little more high-pitched than her usual ones. you didn’t know if it was because she was trying to keep them quiet or if it was because she was nervous, but it was adorable. she hung her head for a moment out of embarrassment, letting her forehead touch your shoulder, but quickly picked it back up so your noses were just barely touching again.

“you heard me,” you replied stubbornly. then, you let your smirk turn into a mischievous smile, “this is fun.”

“you think so?” she cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“mhm,” you hummed. you had to admit, the sound had come out much closer to a moan than you had intended, but it only made it even better. especially when you saw her swallow again.

“so,” she started, her voice soft, dragging out the o. “do you wanna tell me what more than you’re supposed to means?”

you laughed, boldly reaching forward to place your hands on her hips. your reach decreased the distance between your lips to the point that you could feel her breath against yours, but you didn’t close the gap. instead, you glanced up at her eyes to search for any signs of discomfort as you tugged her toward you. at first, she looked at you with a glint of confusion, trying to figure out what you were asking, but she quickly understood. 

she climbed into your lap like you wanted her to, though, judging by the way you were tugging on her, she didn’t have much of a choice. her legs straddled the sides of each of your thighs because of your upright position. you let your back rest against the back of the couch. her cheeks were a little flushed as she sat there, her hands awkwardly hanging between you two like she didn’t know what to do with them.

“does this answer your question?” you asked, looking up at her innocently. 

she nodded awkwardly, not meeting eye contact as she tucked her hair behind her ears. you could tell that she clearly wasn’t used to being the one in this position. it was the way her legs tensed because she was too afraid to put all of her weight down, and the way she was keeping her hands to herself. it was kinda cute though–the way you could take away her confidence just like that and get her all flustered.

your hands slowly moved from her hips to gently grab her hands, her gaze flying from her hands to your eyes at the change of touch. you stopped your movement for a second to gauge her reaction before placing her hands on your shoulders. then, you placed your hands back on her hips and pushed down slightly, trying to tell her that she can sit all the way down. 

“it’s okay. you can sit,” you whispered, realizing she might be interpreting it as something different–something sexual. your verbal instructions helped her fully sit down and relax, though.

when you glanced down and noticed how close the waistband of her shorts was to you, you tried to ignore the thoughts of how easy it would be to stick a hand down her shorts right now–to touch her until she’s gasping and begging for more. or how if she leaned back a little bit you could use your mouth–jeez, you needed to distract yourself. you hadn’t even kissed yet and you were already thinking about this.

“about that confession we discussed earlier…” you said to try to shake your attention away from those thoughts, trailing off. 

“what about it?” she mumbled, still not meeting your eyes. 

“you want to tell me about it?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

she tore her gaze away from her lap to look off to the side at nothing in particular, chewing her lip nervously, then looked back–finally making eye contact. you couldn’t read her expression as she stared at you. then, she sucked in a breath and raised her eyebrows.

“do i?” she challenged. 

a lazy smile rose to your lips at her attempt to gain back control. one of your hands moved from where it rested on her hip to wrap around her throat, not tight like you were squeezing, but enough that you could pull her face closer to yours. your eyes fluttering shut as you brushed your nose against hers teasingly, having no intention to press your lips together–just like what she was doing earlier.

“i think you do,” you whispered, brushing your bottom lip against hers intentionally, “and i want you to.”

you could feel the way her pulse raced under your fingertips, beating at a speed that didn’t seem possible, and you tried not to laugh about how nervous you were making her. you couldn’t say too much though, because yours was probably beating at a similar speed too. why wouldn’t it be with this beautiful girl in your lap?

paige let out a shaky breath to try to pull herself together, the hot air fanning over your mouth. her mouth opened like she was about to speak, but she couldn’t think straight like this. with your mouth in such close proximity while you keep denying her of the kiss she so desperately wants. she knew she could lean forward and close the gap herself, but there was an unspoken game of chicken going on now–she was determined to win.

“you don’t have to tell me, baby,” you said gently, tracing your thumb up and down the side of her throat. “but then you’re not going to get what you want.” 

“you already know what i’m going to say,” she mumbled, attitude soaking into her tone.

you smoothed your hand over her thigh absentmindedly, above her shorts as much as possible of course, from her knee all the way up to where her thigh met her hips, your thumb running over her bikini line. she just hoped you couldn’t tell how worked up the motion of your thumb was making her feel–that you couldn’t feel her pulsing through her shorts.

“i don’t think i do,” you replied innocently, shaking your head.

she groaned in a mixture of annoyance and impatience, and would definitely dramatically throw her head back to go along with it if you weren’t holding her neck in place. not that she was complaining about that, of course. she stuck her lip out slightly in a pout, staring at you with pleading puppy dog eyes–like that was going to help her case. 

“you were so bold before i pulled you into my lap. what happened?” you teased, using your thumb to trace circles into her bikini line. honestly, you were just touching her because you wanted to in the most innocent sense, you didn’t even realize that you were that close until you glanced down. 

when you looked back up, paige was still looking at you with those eyes. suddenly, you had an idea, something that could hopefully speed this process along by making her so desperate that she caves. 

this was definitely not how you thought this night was going to go. 

without breaking eye contact, you slowly slid your thumb to the side. not all the way over, just enough that if she didn’t want to keep going, she could easily slap you away. she didn’t, though, so you did it again, but this time you moved far enough that it was on top of her clit through her shorts–and she was already pulsing. you figured she would try to act like it didn’t effect her, but when she broke eye contact to look down at your thumb as a quiet gasp left her throat and her hips jolted forward, it was hard to deny.

“i want to touch you so bad, baby, i do. i want to make you feel so good,” you said, your tone a little more whiny than you intended, “and i will–” you paused, moving your thumb in achingly slow circles. she sighed at the touch, obviously thinking she got away with it. you leaned forward a little like you were going to kiss her, but moved to whisper in her ear instead, “if you tell me what you were going to say.”

you stopped abruptly, moving your hand away altogether to rest on her back instead. she whimpered at the loss, shifting her hips a little, but it wasn't enough contact for her to be chasing the feeling anyway–just enough to be disappointed that you stopped.

“i wasn’t going to say anything you don’t already know,” she said, trying her best to keep her tone under control but some attitude definitely still slipped in.

“then why are you being so stubborn?” you asked, squeezing her throat for a second but loosening your grip almost immediately.

she clenched her jaw, the frustration visibly bubbling up inside her. she didn’t know why she didn’t want to say it. and her confidence from earlier had subsided, so it felt even more difficult. maybe it was because if she admitted, spoke it aloud, everything would change. you wouldn’t be able to proudly wear the title of friends anymore–you’d be more. it wasn’t that she didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do her dirty, it was the potential risks of what she was losing, no matter the outcome. the reality check for why people say not to get involved with your teammates was a tough one to get smacked in the face with. 

“i–” she started, but cut herself off before anything meaningful could come out of her mouth, looking anywhere but at you.

you decided to let your hand drop from her throat, instead resting that one on her back as well, tracing comforting circles with your fingers in an attempt to be encouraging. 

“it’s okay,” you said softly, trying be reassuring while still standing your ground. “i won’t hurt you, okay? you know that. and you know i feel the same way. i just want you to say it.” 

“i know,” she whispered, picking at the skin around her fingernails. immediately after she started, you grabbed her hands and laced your fingers so she couldn’t, so she couldn’t tear them apart and make herself bleed from the anxiety. “i just–i don’t know.”

you waited a few moments before responding, taking a deep breath to calm your own nerves. “paige, you know the feelings i have for you are more than just friendly,” you paused to use your intertwined hands to tilt her chin up to force her look at you. “and i think you know that i’m falling in love with you. and i know you feel the same, right?”

she bit her lip, glancing down before bringing her eyes back up. “you do want to kiss me?” she asked, her voice was both serious and unserious when she asked, like she knew but was making sure.

you blew a laugh out of your nose, smiling fondly at her. “yes. goddammit, i really do,” you untangled your hands to rest them on her legs, so high on her thighs you had to slide them under her shorts. “i just want you to say it first.”

you swiped your tongue across your bottom lip. there were other things you wanted to say, too, like how you would finger her until she came, eat her out until she cried–whatever she wanted–if she just said it, but it felt like too much for the vulnerable moment. you didn’t want her to feel like you were using her while she’s trying to be open about her feelings. 

“okay,” she said, like she was just now mustering up the courage after dancing in circles around it for this entire time. she blew out a breath, “i love you.”

“i know that,” you replied, nodding your head for her to go on. that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, and she knew that. that was something that you two had said to each other as friends, so it didn’t really hold the same weight. sure, it had a whole different meaning now, but you had heard her say it a thousand times before.

she sagged her shoulders in disappointment for that not being enough. yet still nodded, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her lips–her visibly shaking fingers. 

“damn, you’re acting like you’re taking free throws in a close game right now,” you said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“shut up,” she said, shaking her head with a smile, lightly smacking your chest with the back of her hand. she breathed out again, making eye contact with you. “i think i’m falling in love with you,” she said with confidence, pausing like she was contemplating if she had enough courage to add to it, “and i have had feelings for you since the day we met. i never wanted to be your friend.”

you were taken aback by the newfound information, your face contorted into a surprised expression while you jerked your head back slightly. “what?”

she covered her mouth with her hands and widened her eyes, but you didn’t know if she was shocked that she actually had the courage to say it or if she was shocked that she said it–if she didn’t want you to know that part. but it looked like she was smiling under her hands, judging by the way her under-eyes were a little scrunched, so you would have to assume that she was shocked by her sudden courage to just start admitting things.

her hands fell from her face, revealing she really was smiling under them like you predicted. “i’ve been plotting on you since day one.”

you shook your head in disbelief, closing your eyes for a moment and opening them to check if you were dreaming. you squeezed her legs a little too, then used your thumbs to rub circles into her bikini line–similar to earlier, but you hoped she was feeling it a little more than just some tracing. “you’re lying,” you said definitively. 

“nah,” she giggled, her hands coming up to rest on your chest, her fingers rubbing your collarbone delicately. “i remember when i walked into my first ever practice. you were, like, standing under the basket talking to someone and i literally could not stop looking at you because you were so pretty.” 

you grinned at her, not her words, but at her excitement. she looked like a kid in the candy store while smiling and giggling like that. you couldn’t help but reach up to pinch her cheek lightly, which you honestly did often, so she wasn’t phased

“and then,” she started again, “later in that practice, we were doing defensive drills or whatever. i went to go shoot this layup and you blocked the shit out of me. you fell on top of me and all i can remember thinking is damn, it’s a great day to be a dallas wing.”

you squeezed her hips, not super tight but not gently either, enough to grab her attention. she shifted her gaze back to yours, her smile staying put. 

“you wanna know what i thought of you?” you asked softly, maybe even a little suggestively. 

she nodded her head in reply, so you slid one of your hands back around her throat. you squeezed a little, but only for a few seconds and not very hard, causing her to let out a shaky breath. you pulled her towards you gently. “when i first met you, i thought…” you whispered, trailing off. you brushed your noses together like you had done earlier, her pulse, yet again, pounding beneath your fingertips. “…that you were…” you glanced at her eyes to see where she was looking, only to see that she had closed them in anticipation. you brushed your top lip against her bottom lip, feeling accomplished when you heard her suck in a breath. “…really fucking annoying.”

before she even had time to react to what you said, you captured her lips in a kiss. she kissed you back effortlessly, matching your slow and soft rhythm, hands subconsciously fisting your shirt. it was so easy for your first kiss together, like you had been waiting a lifetime to do this. her lips were warm and soft against yours. maybe even a little familiar–like coming home after being away for so long. you slid your hand down, away from throat down to rest it on her hip.

paige pulled back sharply, her hands on your chest pushing you away. “annoying?” she asked like she couldn’t believe you said it. “that’s what you thought of me?” 

you laughed, keeping your eyes trained on her lips, desperate to lean in and kiss her again. and you tried, you really did, but she kept her hands and arms stiff so you couldn’t move. “well no, it wasn’t just that day. i definitely do still think that,” you teased.

she stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, crossing her arms over her chest. maybe any other time you would’ve had a little more self-control and acknowledged that she was trying to make you feel bad for her, not horny, but your mind was already swirling with arousal from having a pretty girl sitting in your lap–your pretty girl. you couldn’t help but let your gaze shamelessly wander over her exposed arms, her muscles popping so deliciously that you could probably go feral over it. if you weren’t throbbing before, you definitely were now goddamn. and if she was talking, you couldn’t hear her.

your hands subconsciously tightened on her hips as you bit your bottom lip. maybe you should take pictures of them, just like this, to put in a frame. maybe even print out a poster to hang on your ceiling so you can fall asleep happy every night. 

“jesus,” you muttered when she moved her arm a little because it showed a little bit of the definition. it almost under your breath but not quite, not even realizing you said it out loud.

“you’re not even listening,” she stated. honestly, it felt like a movie scene–her voice fading in after a dream sequence. and it was, those arms were definitely what dreams are made of. you would probably let her put you to rest in a chokehold because at least you’d go out with the one thing you loved the most.

“hm?” you hummed, flicking your gaze back to her eyes after much, much difficulty. “you were talking?” you asked jokingly, trying to keep a serious face.

she didn’t say anything, just rolled her eyes, clearly irritated. she shifted her body a little bit, like she was going to get off of you, but you used the grip you had on her hips to pull her back down and still her. her lips thinned into a tight-lipped smile from annoyance, but it didn’t linger on her face for very long.

you held eye contact with her as you shifted one of your thighs inwards under her body, until it was pressing against her through her shorts. her breathing stuttered subtly, so slight that you could’ve been imagining it. after waiting for a few seconds to see if she was okay with this, you used your hands to guide her hips, rolling her forward to grind against your thigh. she broke eye contact to look down at your leg between hers, her lips parting.

you kept your eyes trained on her face though, watching her reaction to the feeling. your own lips were parted too, and you were surprised there wasn’t drool coming out of your mouth at the sight of her. you rolled her hips again, extra slow so you could feel the way she was pulsing against the muscle. her hands flew to grip your shoulders as a result, fingertips digging into your skin. 

after that, she didn’t need any extra guidance. you let your hands fall onto the couch on either side of you, watching as she rolled her hips at a teasing pace against the muscle of your thigh, whimpering as she did so. it wasn’t quite fast enough to chase an orgasm, but it wasn’t slow enough to be considered teasing either. 

you already knew you were soaking through your underwear from this–watching her get herself off like this. you had the urge to kiss her, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away. and there were so many things you could say, too, but you were just too mesmerized to form a word.

one of her hands loosened the grip on your shoulder to rest on the side of your neck, her thumb touching the side of your jaw. after a few seconds, she tore her eyes away from watching herself, shifting her gaze to your eyes. you noticed her pupils were blown with pleasure, making you clench your thighs a little involuntarily to try to find some friction.

her eyes flickered down for a split second, making it obvious she noticed. you didn’t expect her to do anything about it because she was busy working on herself, and you were more than happy to just watch. yet she smiled, sliding her hand from your neck down your body. without hesitation, she used her thumb to rub circles over your clothed clit. 

“fuck, paige,” you said, your voice strangled in surprise. the barrier between her thumb and your clit provided the right amount of teasing that was making your brain short circuit.

then as soon as it began, she suddenly stopped, stilling her thumb and slowly lifting herself off your leg. you watched with a curious expression, trying to figure out what she was doing without directly asking her. but she stood there awkwardly like she didn’t know what to do, her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her shorts at her hips, her eyes trained on you.

it didn’t take you too long to catch on.

“do you, um,” you paused to swallow nervously, “do you want to take those off?”

she nodded slowly in reply. you scooted to the edge of the couch, holding your hands out for her, and spread your knees as an invitation for her to stand between them, which she did immediately. you looked up at her through your lashes as you leaned forward to press a kiss against the waistband, snaking your hands up the back of her thighs under her shorts to cup her ass.

she placed a hand on your head, weaving her fingers through the strands–meant to be comforting more than anything else. 

you ran your hands back down, stopping halfway to use her legs as leverage. once again, you leaned forward. only this time, you mouthed over her clothed clit a few times, holding eye contact with her while you did. she blew out a shallow, shaky breath of both pleasure and nervousness. then, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down her legs achingly slow. when they were halfway down her thighs, you leaned forward to flick your tongue against her clit, feeling too impatient to wait any longer.

her body jolted at the contact, eyes closing and mouth dropping open, not expecting it so soon. you pulled away slightly to watch her reaction, breath hot against her as you watched to make sure she was okay–that she didn’t want to stop. after a few seconds, she opened her eyes to stare down at you because what the fuck was taking so long? 

she whimpered, using her hand to lightly push your head back to where she wanted it. you smiled at the feeling, loving how desperate she was for you, how impatient she was for your touch after getting just a tiny little taste. 

“keep going,” she borderline cried after about a minute of not touching her.

“please?” you said as a reminder, smiling innocently. 

“please, keep going,” she corrected herself. she couldn’t even bring herself to be stubborn or fight about it at that point, she just wanted you to touch her already.

you nodded like you understood, leaning closer to her like you were about to give her what she wanted, then jumped to your feet. her eyes flew open, wildly searching the room for a reason why you weren’t literally on your knees eating her pussy right now. you couldn’t help but smirk at her reaction. she grabbed your wrist, tugging on it like she was going to throw a tantrum. 

who knows, maybe she would if she didn’t get what she wanted.

but you weren’t really in the mood to wait either, so you would let it slide this time. you used the arm she was hanging onto to pull her toward the couch, pushing her down on it as you sank to your knees on the floor. she watched you nervously, her breathing almost as rapid as her heart rate. and she didn’t know what to do with hands, so they were next to her in the couch like yours were just a few minutes ago.

you cupped the back of her knees with your hands, yanking her towards you so if you dropped her, she would only be halfway on the couch. and threw her legs over your shoulders so she didn’t fall, catching a glimpse of how wet she was.

there was barely any hesitation before you licked a flat stripe up her center and took her clit in your mouth to alternate between sucking gently and swirling your tongue around it.

“oh my god,” she moaned. she tangled both of her hands in your hair, already grinding against your face and tongue.

“i’ve barely touched you,” you commented, using the opportunity to come up for air.

“don’t care. i don’t care,” she said. “i just want you to fuck me. don’t care about anything else.”

“nothing?” you spoke against her so she could feel your lips move, a little amused by the way she was acting. 

“no,” she shook her head quickly, her back arching off the bed involuntarily.

you kept your eyes trained on her, watching the way every circle, every flick would effect her. the way they would make her face contort and force moans from the back of her throat. how she was struggling to keep it together. the way her stomach would flex and hips would buck. 

you touched your finger to her entrance, swirling it through her folds, the teasing making her whine. “so needy for me, paige. i’ve wanted to see this for so long. to watch you fall apart in front of me,” you said, your voice low with desire. 

the desire wasn’t even because you wanted to come though, you just wanted to please her.

without warning, you pushed your finger inside her, curling like you had done it a million times before, like this wasn’t the first time you were getting to explore her body. you added a second finger, watching her gasp and throw her head back at the intrusion, but grind her hips up to try to meet your rhythm still–like she didn't even realize she was doing it.

“fuck, fuck,” she moaned, her voice going up an octave. “i’m a fucking mess for you. shit, let you ruin me whenever you want.”

you sped up your pace at her words, wanting to see how whiny and need she could really get if you got her close to the edge–the things she would say. you definitely would have to try other things with her just to see.

“mhm,” you hummed against her. “you have no idea what you do to me. i’m going to lose my fucking mind.” 

and then her hips started uncontrollably bucking, stomach flexing against her will, but she was still trying so hard to hold off her orgasm despite that.

“paige, it’s okay,” you tried to reassure, unsure why she was doing that. you hadn’t told her she had to ask permission or anything. “you can come, it’s okay.”

“no, no, it’s too good. don’t want to yet,” she whined, her legs clenching together hard around your head. “want you to keep fucking me.”

the words shocked you a little bit. you weren’t sure if you had ever heard say something anything like that. that they didn’t want to come? that sounded crazy, you couldn’t even get on board with that yourself.

but of course, you did what she said. who were you to deny a pretty lady of the pleasures in life?

even though she didn’t ask you to, you turned your head to nip at the skin of her thighs, just to lessen the stimulation and give her a little more time like she wanted. you kept pumping your fingers though, pumping them as deep as you could and then curling them until you hit the spot that had her crying out in a borderline scream.

“no, don’t stop, please,” she said almost immediately. 

you did as you were told, moving your mouth back to her clit. you were still hesitant, though. this was uncharted territory for you and you didn’t really know what to do here. you maintained a slow pace, trying to do what she said while honoring her other wishes of wanting to last longer. 

as you expected, it only took a few more pumps of your fingers before her eyes were rolling to the back of her head and back arching off the couch in an orgasm. you worked her through it, slowing your pace a little bit. you could only assume it was a hard-hitting one, because the only sound you heard was a chant of thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. 

you kept pumping your fingers achingly slowly as she came down, making her body twitch underneath you, but you weren’t even sure if she noticed. 

when she was finally mostly still, her chest heaving, you pulled them out just as slow. she opened her eyes slowly, immediately smiling when she focused on you. 

you smiled back, using the hand the wasn’t just inside her to pinch her cheek. "how did i get so lucky?"

[according2thelore]

20 fanfic author questions

i love things like this! thank you sm @seanwinchester for the tag!

1. How many works on AO3?

32! so since i started in january 2023 i've averaged about 1.23 fics a month, which is fun, because that's the month and year i started! (1 & 23)

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

386,336 😳

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos

1. love potion no. 9 (811) 2. there's no such thing as a clean break, when your heart starts bleeding out (726) 3. and it's you that i want (671) 4. keep me in a daydream (662) 5. with hearts that are guilty, not remorseful (655)

4. What fandoms do you write for?

on here? just supernatural. but in the past, i've written for merlin, star trek, teen wolf, haikyuu, doctor who, MCU, free!, the witcher, mystic messenger (lmao), percy jackson, and i could continue forever.

5. Do you respond to comments?

i want to!!! so badly!!!! due to my current workload, i'm feeling so burnt out and busy that i've barely mustered up the energy to write anything legible (including fics). so the goal is soon!!!! i love comments, and reread them often. so i want to respond!

6. Angstiest Ending?

i fantasize to feel you like a bullet; it's the only explicitly unhappy ending that i have written, as i'm a sucker for an angst with a happy ending. although my habit of breaking hearts as soon as i have them is an ambiguous ending, it could be read as angsty.

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

uhhhhhh...a lot of them do... love potion no. 9? it's you i hold onto? keep me in a daydream? and it's you that i want? we didn't get it right, but love we did our best? house song? wait for tomorrow? i still need you, but what's that gonna do?

8. Do you get hate?

not really! i've been really lucky! early on, charlotte and i got a few messages from destiel-centric accounts that were being mean (my favourite was someone calling us "hags," very bog-coded). recently i think someone was subtweeting us (sub-blogging us?) and being exceptionally rude, but they didn't mention names, so 🤷 oh well!

9. Do you write smut?

hell yeah; 11 of 32 are rated Explicit; 33.4% so basically a third of all of my fics! big smut fan, me.

10. Do you write crossovers?

i'm open to it, but i never have!

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

gosh i wish 😔 what a compliment!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

i have not! and i honestly don't know if i'd be a very good co-writer. my way of writing is a little peculiar, and i like things a certain way. but i'm absolutely open to the experience! i love the community co-writing of things like the ES/LS verse that we've done, same with ageswap & adam verses! so i think it would be fun & pray i don't drive my co-writer crazy.

14. All time favourite ship?

ALL TIME?!?! ...merthur, but these incest brothers come CLOSE

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i wrote a 7.2k truth spell fic that i wasn't happy with, so i don't think i'll ever finish it. if you all ever want an excerpt or something, let me know! i have a million others, but off the top of my dome, i wrote a few paragraphs of soulless!sam deciding to kill cas because he's in love with dean, and it would "distract" dean from the task at hand. but it's really hard to write from soulless POV, because i'm such a feelings-forward writer that for someone to have nothing to feel kinda stumped me.

16. Writing strengths?

hmm i think i'm good at a Yearn. i love a dramatic confrontation, but i think i'm best at those quiet moments of introspection/yearning.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

action/fight scenes. it always ends up "he punches...he moves...he jumps..."

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

sure! although it does drive me a little nuts when there's not a translation at the bottom in the notes, or easily highlightable, so i can move the mixed lines into a translate window. i read a fic recently where one of the two main characters/all of his group could only speak a central european language (vague for anonymity), and all of the c. european bits were underlined like a hyperlink which sent you right back to the top of the fic, so trying to highlight the passages and figure out dialogue was very difficult.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

if we're talking FIRST-first, then high school musical when i was seven years old. if we're talking first knowledge that what i was doing was fanfiction, then percy jackson and the olympians.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

favourite EVER? i've gotta go "house song," just because how proud i am of it. i worked really hard, and i think it comes across. i really love a lot of my fics, though, and am really proud of them!

tagging: @majordemonblockpartyy @sixtysevenautomatic @incesthemes @fictionallemons

no pressure to do this, as always! thanks again for the tag--i always think these are so fun, and i had a good time filling it out! <3

-lizzy

[a-gfd-world]

I know its a bit late but, from the asks: 2, 5, 7, 10, 19, 22, and 50

I know it's a lot but I'm curious 😌

Hey! Don't worry about sending a lot of questions, it was fun to answer!

2. What is your most extreme kink, and why do you like it?: Honestly I have a bit of a soft spot for CNC. Came at a surprise at first but honestly I like seeing someone struggle when their tied up and hearing them beg so it tracks.

5. Have you got any kinks you haven't tried yet but really want to? If so, what are they?: I'm not super experienced so a few. But if I had to choose it would be pegging and spanking.

7. A genie has granted you 3 nsfw wishes, what are you wishing for and why?: The first one is a bit obvious but sending me a cute sub. Second, probably unlimited access to sex toys. Some of them can get pricey. Third is gonna be tame but make me really good at flirting cause god now I'm shit at it.

10. You can only receive 1 sex act for the next month, what would you pick? Why? Would that change if it was a year?: That's a difficult one 😭.

19. What is the funniest sexual thing that has happened to you or someone you know?: Partner at the time wasn't from the same country as me and didn't speak my language. So one time when we were having sex he asked me to translate a sexual word. And I couldn't remember it. So I did what everyone would do in these circumstances: just stop everything and try to remember very hard what the hell that word is. He had to get me out of that because I genuinely had stopped paying attention to the fact that we were having sex.

22. Do you have something sexual that you are really proud of? What is it?: My first time domming anyone. Felt really good and I think I did pretty well for a first time.

50. Describe your body as positively as you can.: Curious huh. I'm gonna keep that one a bit vague because I don't really want people who know me to recognise me. Whoever decorated to create my body was very generous with my butt (it's where the fat goes first in my body which means that my pants get ripped at my inner thighs so easily). I do really like my boobs too, they're a nice size.

[quindolyn]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a sub!regulus X Dom!fem reader fic?

One where it’s angsty as Regulus had been acting different around the reader, and eventually after being questioned about it alone, Regulus breaks down and admitting his parents forced him to get the dark mark (there was nothing he could do about it), and the reader comforts him while they fuck. Regulus had been through a lot and the reader wants him to know that they love him.

Including: praise kink, subspace regulus, scar/mark kissing, aftercare for regulus, riding, and anything else you think would suit this situation <3

Resilience || Regulus Black

Word Count: 6154

A/N: Do I hate this? Yes, most definitely, without a doubt. Did I only proof read 5/15 pages. Yes, again, certainly. But I'm tired and I'm with my friend so it's not gonna get better than this. I love you all and hope you enjoy it

warnings: pretty much included in the ask, can't really think of anything else

Being light on your feet it doesn’t appear as though Regulus notices you tip toeing your way across the Slytherin common room. As you come up behind him you peer over his shoulder; he has his legs tucked beneath him with what appears to be his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook resting in his lap. Standing over his shoulder you let your eyes scan across the pages laid open and what you first believed to be a chapter on counter curses you realized was actually detailing how to cast the curse.

Realizing what you’d just read you let out a small, involuntary gasp that catches the attention of the boy sitting in front of you.

“(Y/N)!” Regulus quickly exclaims, glancing over his shoulder before slamming the book closed and sliding it into his book bag which sits next to him on the plush, green velvet sofa.

“What was that Reg?” You ask, brow furrowed as your eyes lock onto Regulus’ grey ones.

“Just a book love, that’s all.”

“Your Defense textbook?” You ask, hoping he would slide it back out of his satchel to show you the familiar scarlet cover you’d scratched your initials into on the bottom right hand corner.

“Something of the sort,” He answers vaguely, pushing himself off the couch to face you. Instead of making his way around the couch to meet you he stayed on the other side of the piece of furniture. Feet planted, hands fiddling with each other while instead of making eye contact with you his gaze seemed to be directed just past your right ear.

“Don’t lie to me Regulus,” Your voice is clipped, when you’d come to check in on Regulus after he’d come home from winter break at his dreaded family’s house this wasn’t what you had expected.

Regardless, it was what you’re met with, “What the hell is that book?”

Your voice jumps and you can hear the panic rising in it. Regulus had spent the weeks up to his departure date dreading the time he would have to spend at the Black Mansion. You’d stayed up countless nights, wishing you could somehow keep him from having to go to that hellish house but when it came down to it there was nothing either of you could do.

Finding him pouring over some dark arts book the first time you saw him after nearly two weeks apart wasn’t exactly the reunion you’d been picturing in your head. Nor was it comforting.

You can barely make it out but you believe you hear him whimper something about “it’s nothing” as his gaze drops from just over your shoulder to his toes.

You two stand there for a minute, then two, each waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the tension currently hanging heavy over the room. Regulus silently begging you to let it go, to leave the room and give him some time to stash the book before coming to find you to act as though nothing had happened and it was all fine.

Unwilling to yield, you hold your ground, maintaining your silence while your eyes bore into the top of his head, awaiting his explanation as to what you’d walked into.

You’re the one to finally break the silence.

“If it's nothing, then I’d like to see it Regulus.” It's the second time in the span of five minutes you opt for his full name instead of one of the nicknames coined by his brother, who he’d recently mended things with, and made popular by yourself. You knew it would strike a cord for him but you were scared, you were on the offensive.

With a deep sigh Regulus retrieves his bag from the spot it’d fallen to on the floor, pulling the book from the bag, bound in emerald green, Regulus hold it both far from his body and with a surprisingly tight hold, somehow both wanting it as far from him as possible and not wanting it to leave his grasp.

Though visibly ancient the book appears to be in remarkable condition, engraved on the front cover in gold leaf reads “Mendel's Most Malicious Curses”.

Studying the cover you don’t recognize the book’s title but based on what you’d glimpsed inside of its pages you hadn’t expected to. Even as a fifth year you doubt this would ever be included in O.W.L. curriculum.

Despite knowing better you can’t help but feel a strange, strong attraction to the book, an overwhelming urge consuming you to take that book. Your fingers itch at your sides as you imagine getting your hands on the book, wondering how hard Regulus would fight before relinquishing it from his grasp.

Somewhere in your subconscious you register that these thoughts are not organically your own, that somehow that book is influencing you and that in reality you want nothing to do with it. Frightened thoughts simmer at the back of your mind but they are lost in the shadows of your curiosity regarding the secrets that lie beneath the ornate designs swirling over the cover.

Expectantly you extend your arm, a nonverbal signal for Regulus to hand you the book but your movement throws him into action and has him clutching it close to his chest, both arms cradling the text.

“No no no no no,” He chants frantically, shaking his head as though to shake off the thought of relinquishing the book to you. “I can’t give you this (Y/N),” He swallowed deeply, shining silver eyes seaking out yours, ablaze with conviction.

“And why’s that?” You challenge with a raise of your brow.

Inhaling deeply he seems to be bracing himself to respond, “Because you’re a muggle born, it’s not meant for you to touch.”

You can feel rage bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to spill out your mouth in a flurry of angry words admonishing Reg for his remarks, “What? Is my simple muggle born mind not worthy enough to read words in that precious little pureblood book of yours? Do I need my pedigree intact to understand what it says? Not meant for mutts, is that it?”

You thought you were past this, you thought you’d left the aloof little third year you’d first met who’d called you a mudblood and asked you to move to a different table in the library because he didn’t want you looking at his charms homework behind.

Had the past year and a half of apologies and growth on Regulus’ part all been a lie? Was that hate not as small a part of your boyfriend as you’d thought? Did it really only take just shy of two weeks back with his biggoted relatives for him to start spewing this pureblood nonsense again?

Bouncing around in your head those questions overwhelm you as you try to ignore the most pressing one, pushing at the forefront of your mind.

Does he even love you?

“B-because you’re not a pureblood, this book (Y/N), it can’t be held by anyone not of pureblood,” Reg’s shaking voice broke through the flurry of questions wreaking chaos in your mind.

“God damn it Regulus! I thought we were past this! I thought-”

“It’ll kill you (Y/N)!” His voice is frantic and you pick up on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to leak over.

Those words that seemed to carry a fatality in themselves cleared away the din clouding your mind, everything went silent. Too silent even as the implication of those words wash over you.

That book may as well be a gun, cocked and being held steady at your temple as you feel tears of your own begin to well in your eyes, distorting your vision.

The mess of questions doesn’t return to your mind, instead they begin thumping one by one at the base of your brain though they all carry through the same theme.

How could he have brought that near you?

“Kill me?” You curse yourself for how obvious your voice is shaking but the book that just moments earlier you were dying to get your hand on seems to have cast an oppressive air over the room and has you recoiling away from your boyfriend.

Regulus nods, holding eye contact with you as he slips the book back into his bag, sliding it under the sofa before cautiously striding towards you.

“That's why I can’t give it to you to look at, it's cursed and if you so much as bump it you’ll…” His voice trails off, the words too terrible to speak aloud.

Your arms wrap around yourself, clutching as hard as they can as you fight to wrangle your thoughts under control. His response revealed to you that he doesn’t intend to hurt you, not with the book anyways which has dozens of other worries popping up in your head. You’re desperate for answers as to what happened to Regulus at his house. He seems ready to give them to you as he offers to take you back to his dorm away from any prying eyes or ears that may lurk about in the Slytherin common room.

You’d both agreed to arrive back at school two days early hoping to get some alone time in but that didn’t mean that the castle was empty and that anyone couldn’t walk into his common room at any moment.

You stall as he lets you into his dorm, you’ve been there a thousand times, often under the mask of night but your usual spot, atop his always made perfectly bed, seems wrong now. Without answers to your countless questions the entire room feels foregin to you and leaves you standing by his desk, not quite leaning against it but also not quite supporting your own weight.

Regulus seems equally awkward but eventually settles on his bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress, he barely looks comfortable.

You stay there so long in silence that after a while your breathing syncs, the singular sound becoming the only noise in the drafty room.

Long after it becomes clear Regulus isn’t going to speak first and you finally tire of the silence you find your voice, somewhere deep inside of you summoning the words to your most pressing worry; “What happened at your house Regulus? What did they do to you?”

Your words have him crumbling, your usually stoic boy folding in on himself until he is but a ball hanging off the bed.

You hesitate for a single second before you’re racing towards him, dropping before him at his knees to cup his face in your palms. Directing his visage upwards to meet yours you feel your heart wrench in your chest as you take in his puffy, red eyes, red nose and flushed cheeks already marred with twin trails of salty tears cascading down his face.

“Regulus,” You choke out feeling tears from earlier resurface as you push yourself off the ground to take your place next to the scared boy beside you.

Pulling him into your lap as much as his size permits you too you take great care in cradling his head, clutching him to your chest as your rock gently back and forth humming into his hairline in hopes to calm his sobs. Raw and ragged they each tear at the fragile, brave exterior you’ve erected in hopes of comforting the boy, giving him something solid to hold onto.

Whispering sweet nothings into his ear you feel him melt into your touch, slowly the breathing becomes stronger and his sobs quiet to weak sniffles swallowed by the occasional gulp.

Feeling him shift under your touch you can tell he’s working himself up to something, he always gets fidgety when he’s trying to summon the courage to do something hard, his movement triggers a memory.

It floods through your mind as you’re reminded of a similarly terrified Regulus, knees bumping against the table at breakfast one lazy Sunday as he repeatedly bounced them, seemingly unable to sit still. He’d spent weeks working himself up to speaking to his brother for the first time in far too long.

The memory of him being so strong and brave even as the entirety of the Great Hall tracked his movement from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor had you drawing a deep breath. The strength the memory provides you has you summoning the breath to prompt Regulus into some sort of explanation, anything.

“Reggie, your mother gave you that book didn’t she?”

He goes still at your words and even involuntary actions seem to still, his lungs draw no breath and his pulse seems to fade away under your touch.

“Bellatrix,” His voice is hoarse from crying, “Her idea of a Christmas gift.”

“That bitch,” You spit.

“Walburga’s was worse.”

You pause at the mention of her name, there is no doubt in your mind that he is the one who’s actions have sent Regulus into this downward spiral of despair and fear. You’re not even sure if you wanna hear what he has to stay but what you want stopped being important a long time ago.

“Do you wanna show me Reg?” You ask, breathless.

“No,” Comes his meak voice, “But I need to.”

You nod understandingly as you regrettably allow him to slip from your grasp so he can turn to face you, one leg tucked under his bum and the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

His eyes are downcast before he peaks them up through thick, dark lashes to meet your gaze, “Do you promise not to hate me (Y/N/N)? I don’t know if I can do this if you hate me.”

Your brows are drawn together as your response comes emphatically, “I could never hate you Regulus, I could never and I will never.”

“You can’t make that promise,” He says through a watery chuckle, leaving you wondering where the hilarity in the situation was. “I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Regulus,” You latched onto his hand before he could turn away from you, “I am incapable of hating you my love, please. Tell me what happened.”

Silver eyes locked with yours as though they would reveal the solidity of your promise. You’re not sure what answer he found in them but regardless he broke your gaze as he snuck his hand out of yours.

You watch as he slowly rolls up his sleeve and an idea as to what he’s going to show you begins to form and you find yourself regretting ever demanding to know what’s going on. You quickly shove those thoughts back down, there's no use in even entertaining them, ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.

Your worst fears are confirmed as Regulus rolls the sleeve of his black sweater to reveal swirling black ink sunk deep into his skin. Even just by looking at it you could feel the permanence of the ink, the meaning behind it causing a chill to shoot through your bones.

In the back of your head this had always been a possibility but not one you’d ever truly considered. You always thought that you would be able to get yourself and Reg away from everyone, from everything. Blood purity, the ministry, his family.

You were going to get out and you’d thought you’d have plenty of time, half way through his fifth year neither of you ever expected him to be forced to take the Dark Mark before his eighteenth birthday.

You were supposed to have until his eighteenth birthday.

Staring at the ink that seemed to pulse with life against the pale white of Regulus’ skin you suppose that it doesn’t really matter what you were supposed to have, what was supposed to happen. Regulus has taken the dark mark.

Godric, Regulus has taken the dark mark.

“Y-Your mother did this to you?” Your voice wobbles, anger, confusion, and terror evident in your voice, each betraying the strong front you’re trying to keep up for Regulus.

“She came for me in the middle of the night, (Y/N/N). First time I’ve ever been woken by her instead of Sirius or a house elf and she forced me up, made me get dressed before taking me downstairs and they were all there,” His voice cracks as a silent sob racks his body, you can only imagine how difficult it must be to relive the horrific events of that night. Hoping to provide him with any sort of comfort you inch closer to him, throwing your arm around his shoulder allowing him to rest his head on yours before continuing.

“They were all there (Y/N), not just her and Father. Bellatrix, Cissa and her husband, the Lestranges,” He pauses to swallow, “ And him. He was there.”

Regulus needn’t clarify who “he” was. The idea that he had even been near Regulus made you sick to your stomach and you could feel the distinct sensation of bile rising tickle at the back of your throat.

“Shhh, it's okay Reg,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as sobs shake his body, “It’s going to be okay Red we’re going to figure this out.”

“He did this to me,” He sobs as he shakes in your lap, letting the enormity of his circumstances finally sink in after suppressing it for the past week, the fear of your response keeping him occupied.

To say you aren’t scared would be a lie, you’re fucking terrified but holding Regulus’ trembling form you know that this decision was not his. He would never swear allegiance to a group hell bent on destroying you and people like you, a few years ago maybe but not today. Not the Regulus you’d come to love, even if it began despite yourself.

Without hesitation you reach out, wrapping your hand around the skin now stained by dark magic.

Regulus let’s out a hiss at your touch and you feel him tense under your hand, afraid you’ve hurt him you start to pull away, “Does that hurt Reg?” You ask warily.

“Yes,” He spits out through gritted teeth, “But don’t let go please,” He pleads, raising his gaze to meet yours, “Please don’t let go.”

“Not gonna let go,” You promise, keeping your hold on his forearm tight.

Dipping your fingers under the strong bone of his mandible you turn his visage upwards to meet yours, heart breaking at the sadness and pain swimming in those beautiful grey eyes of his. Slowly you lean in before your eyelashes are brushing against the soft skin of his cheeks and your eyes flutter closed as you watch his do the same.

Your lips brush each other’s gently as your hand cups the side of his face, giving you complete control of the kiss as you keep the swipes of your lips light, you can just barely make out the taste of the pomegranate lip balm you’d given him as a part of your holiday gift to him.

“I didn’t wanna take it (Y/N/N),” He sniffles against your lips, “I don’t wanna be a Death Eater, I don’t wanna hurt you.” The sincerity in his voice has more tears welling in your eyes, you just can’t bear to see your beautiful boy in so much pain.

“Oh I know you don’t bubba I know,” You calm him, throwing a leg over to the other side of his lap so that you can perch yourself atop the hard smooth surface of his thighs. Gently pressing kisses along the canvas of his face you feel his arms wrap around your waist and the tips of fingers graze against your ass as his hands hover above it.

“Can I touch you please?” His words are barely audible but his desperation is loud and clear.

You grant permission as you lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Posing little, if any, challenge before letting your tongue delve into his mouth, quickly claiming dominance over his as you feel his palms clutch the globes of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he holds onto you as tight as possible.

With care you slowly guide him onto his back as your lips trail from his down the column of his throat, in your journey down you leave sloppy hickeys along the delicate skin of his neck. Pulling away slightly you smile to see the various shades of purple and blue painted along his pretty ivory skin.

You know you’re going to have a real conversation about this later, what it means, what the two of you are ready to do about it but right now all you can think about is how you can make your pretty boy feel better, how you can show him that your love for him hasn’t changed. And there’s one way you know how to do that best.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Reggie?” You whisper against his skin as your lips ghost over his collar bone, drinking in his scent.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Need you.”

That’s all you need to hear before your hands are delving under the hem of Reg’s sweater, hands sliding against the smooth planes of his abs, your hands gliding over the occasional ridge of a long healed scar.

Sliding the hem up all the way to his collarbone you look down to see the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. The scars you’ve become used to seeing a dark but faded pink now shine an almost brilliant purple as though the dark magic imprinted upon his arm had somehow interfered with scars caused by Walburga, most of them when he was much younger. You know for a fact that there are more ones on his back, deeper and darker from taking longer to heal.

“Come on pretty boy,” You coach, propping him up so that you can slip the soft sweater over his head before discarding it over your shoulder, “There we go, that’s a good boy.”

He lets out a low whine at your praising words as his hips thrust up towards yours which are perched directly atop them.

While removing your own sweater you smile, realizing it’s actually one of Regulus’ old Quidditch jumpers from the year prior. With no bra beneath your top your tits are left bare for Regulus’ viewing. His eyes gloss over as lust creeps into the stormy grey of his irises, they’re locked on your tits as though they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Do these hurt more than normal baby?” You ask as your fingertips graze over the raised scars on his chest, if the dark magic of the dark mark made his scars more sensitive you wanna be careful not to hurt him.

“A little.”

Frowning you lean down to press your lips against the puckered scars, your kisses light and fleeting as you trace the dark lines with your lips.

Dancing from one scar to another you hear him exhale deeply and the tension seems to be slowly leaving his body as he settles into the mattress and he becomes malleable under your touch.

“You’re so beautiful Reg,” You praise against his scarred skin, needing him to understand just how much you love him.

“I love you so much,” You look up through your lashes to see Regulus’ eyes already locked on your body.

“I love you too.”

With that your lips are ceasing his once more as you feel the overwhelming need to comfort your boy. Gently, you grind your hips up against his as you become lost in the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours before you feel a familiar bulge pressing on you.

Your hand ventures back down the hard muscle of his stomach before you bump against the bulge of his erection, straining against the soft material of his sweatpants. You palm gently over his cock as your face buries itself in the crook of his neck, giving him sweet, light kisses while teasing his throbbing member.

“Please,” Comes his choked pleas at being teased, “Please, need more.”

“Of course pretty boy,” You promise as you lift yourself off of him, giving him one last kiss at the waistband of his sweatpants before helping him ease off his bottoms and boxers.

Once he’s devoid of all clothing you too strip down so that you’re both bare naked, your eyes are fixed on the red, weeping head of his half hard cock, sitting against the inside of his muscled thigh.

He whimpers as your hand wraps around his member, pumping up and down his hardening length, brushing your thumb along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Wanna be inside of you,” He whimpers, hands grappling for your wrist to stall your movements and pull you on top of him but all he succeeds in doing is making you stubble closer to him.

You release your right hand from his cock, instead taking his hand in yours while your unoccupied hands resumes stimulating his member.

“I know you wanna be inside of me, pretty boy, but I gotta get you hard first.”

“But I am hard,” He argues in a pretty little whine, and now that he mentions it you realize that he is harder than he was when you’d pulled him from the tight confines of his pants.

“Your cock’s so gorgeous,” You murmur watching the way he twitches in your hand, “Think you’re hard enough now, yeah?”

He nods his head, squirming as he fights the urge to buck up into your hand.

Making sure that he’s comfortable, propped up against the pillow at the head of the bed you brush away the hair that’s fallen into his face as you straddle his lap, the shaft of his cock pressing against the warmth of your cunt.

Lifting yourself a few inches off his thighs your help guide his prick to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him you allow yourself to take your time accepting each and every inch of him inside of you.

Reg’s eyes are glued to your pussy as he watches himself disappear inside of you, all the way down to his base. His eye brows furrow from the overwhelming pleasure that swims through his veins, sinking deep into his every nerve at the bliss of being completely surrounded by your warm pussy.

Pleasure shoots up your spine at the sensation of slowly becoming full, once you’ve finally taken every inch of him inside you you throw your head back, mouth dropped open as the breath is stolen from your lungs. It feels so good to be so full with him you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Good boy,” You say breathlessly, rubbing your arms up and down his flexing arms, fists furled with the sheets between them as he too adapts to the sensation that comes with being inside of you.

“You ready for me to move?” You ask once you finally become used to the full feeling.

Desperate nods answered your question, it takes you a minute to find your rhythm but soon you’re grinding his hips against his, lifting yourself slightly off his cock before grinding back down onto him.

Your movements are slower than usual when you fuck Reg, but after the terror he’d gone through in the past weeks you’re deliberate in your gentle movements.

As your hands grip the muscles of his arms you hear him take a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, landing on his face, your movements stalling before you realize that you’re clutching the newly marked skin on his left forearm.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” You apologize, loosening your grip on him as your lips frace the dark lines of the ink against his skin.

Seeing that mark on anyone else would’ve made you recoil, have ice shooting through your veins as fear petrified you. While you would’ve preferred never to see that symbol of hate tattooed into Regulus’ skin it didn’t evoke its usual reaction from you. The only fear you have is fear of the future, fear of what lies in wait for the two of you beyond the walls of Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is comforting your boy, all you think about as you press your lips to his mark.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear sobs break through Regulus’ lips, quickly you abandon the stain of ink , moving to cradle his head so that your tits are right in his line of vision.

“I thought you were going to hate me,” He cries into your chest, tears wet the soft skin of your tits.

“No baby, I’ll never hate you, not ever.”

You feel the wet warmth of his mouth brush against your right nipple, gazing down you see his tongue lazily circling the pebbled flesh and you’re reminded just how cold the room actually is but pressed up against Regulus it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“You wanna suck on my titty Reggie?”

He responds with a weak nod and quickly you’re easing your nipple into his mouth, helping him find the correct angle all the while stuttering your hips against his.

“You fill me up so good Reg,” Your praise, fingers tangling in the dark mess of curls.

At your praise he begins lifting his hips in times with your thrusts, helping you as you fuck youself on top of him, wanting so desperately to make you feel as good as you make him.

“There we go, that’s a god boy.”

“M’getting close,” His words are muffled by the soft flesh of your tit stuffed into his mouth.

You too are nearing your orgasm as your clit brushes against the hard bone  of his pelvis pulling a sharp whimper from you. To better grant Regulus access to your breast you’ve settled on rolling your hips in circles, ceasing the up and down movement from earlier so as to not disturb him.

A familiar tightness is brewing in your belly as Regulus’ hands run up and down your back before gripping the globes of your butt, maintaining as much physical contact as possible.

“Go ahead bubba, go ahead and cum. Fill me up pretty boy, want your cum. Need your cum. Godric I love you,” You ramble, seizing his lips again, needing them against yours as you feel him cum inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters as your cunt grips around him with the tell tale signs of your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Y’gonna cum with me baby?” You ask as you press your lips to his forehead, his mouth having once more found the plush of your breast.

“Yes,” He nods, “Please.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of pleasure racing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm, continuing to move your hips as you simultaneously help Reg through his. Stars flash behind your closed eyelids as the pleasure building up finally releases, sending you into euphoria so intense it seems to cloud your every sense.

The second he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock it tipped him over the edge and as he lost himself in pleasure, rope after rope of cum releasing inside of you, he tried his best to match the movement of his hips to yours.

You flutter your eyes open as the warmth of his cum floods your pussy as you come down from the height of your orgasm, letting yourself collapse so that your chest is pressed up against his.

With your chests pressed so close together you notice the exact moment that your breathing syncs, feeling as Regulus’ arms wrap around your bare torso keeping you close to his body.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur against the ivory skin of his chest, keeping your voice hushed.

“Better. A little happy.”

Glancing up you catch the smallest smirk slink across his lips as he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Happy?”

“You make me happy,” His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls you closer to him causing his softening prick to slip out of your tight hole. You both hiss as the cool air hits his cock and the cum he’d emptied into you begins flowing out yout pussy.

Regrettably you push yourself off of him, pulling his sweater over your head before waddling into the connecting bathroom, being ever so conscious about the sticky white mess between your legs as you wet a washcloth using warm water from the sink before applying it to the insides of your thighs. Ginger touches hastily cleaning up the excess cum before rinsing the wash cloth to take it to Reg.

“Hey pretty boy,” You coo upon reentering the room to find him in the same position you’d left him in, “You ready for me to clean you up?”

“You look so beautiful in my clothes (Y/N/N),” He responds instead of answering your question, pushing himself onto his elbows so that he can watch you, his black sweater enveloping you all the way to your lower thighs.

“And you’re just beautiful,” You smile, sitting next to him on the mattress. You aren’t lying, he looks absolutely gorgeous leaning back, mop of dark hair in tangled tresses, grey eyes glossed over, abs sheening with sweat as are his equally toned thighs. Merlin bless the poor bastard who invented Quidditch.

Dragging up his muscled legs your eyes settle on his softening member, just as pretty as the rest of him.

With care you make quick work of cleaning the cum off his cock, resting your hand on his thigh when he tries to squirm away from your over stimulating touch.

“I know baby, I know but I gotta get you all nice and clean for me.”

“Hurts,” He mumbles in a pathetic pout.

“I know it does pretty baby but look,” You say, pulling the cloth from his skin, “All done already.” Pressing a kiss to his temple you go to stand but you’re quickly pulled back down to the mattress by cold hands wrapped around the warm folds of your waist.

“Don’t go,” He mumbles into your hair as he keeps you tucked into his side.

“Just gotta go put the washcloth back Reggie,” You explain trying to slip from his hold but he’s not having it and just tugs you back against the hard planes of his chest.

“No,” He says simply before reaching over to the bed side table where he’d set his wand, mumbling a quick banishing spell the rag flew from your hand before flying into the bathroom.

Resting your head against his strong shoulder you yank a blanket from the end of the bed up to throw it around your bodies, nestled close together.

“You said you were happy Reg.”

“Mhm,” He responds with a noncommittal hum.

“What else are you feeling, love?”

You hear him take a deep inhale, as his own answer seemed to overwhelm him, “I don’t know. I’m scared, I’m really scared but not so much now that I know that you don’t hate me.”

You nod against his chest, you can only imagine how petrifying that thought must’ve been for him and you can’t deny the tug you feel in your chest at the idea of Regulus ever thinking you would hate him.

“I’m still terrified but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know you’re gonna be okay Regulus, you are capable and strong and smart and the bravest boy I have ever met,” You can feel the blush radiating off of him at your words.

“Thank you (Y/N/N),” He mumbles bashfully into your hair once more.

You were telling the truth, if there was one thing that you know for certain its that Regulus is just as resilient as he has proven to be and if Walburga, or anyone else for that matter thought he was going to take this lying down. If they thought you were going to take this lying down, they have another thing coming. There is no doubt in your mind that Regulus will fight for what he knows to be true and if there was ever a point that he would have obeyed his mother’s every command without question that time was long past.

Reg isn’t to be underestimated. He’s just as every bit courageous as he’s proved to be over and over again. To underestimate him is to dig your own grave; and unlike Walburga you aren’t ready to count him out quite yet. On the contrary actually, your boy wasn’t about to take this lying down and even if it meant total self destruction, the two of you are about to raise hell.

taglist: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @thatvenusbabe @zzzfour @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter @priii @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @daisyyy2516 @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @i-love-scott-mccall @thatdummymarie @trashyvicks @sprucewoodlover @slut4drvc0 @pagesbetweensheets @locnylupin @mjoubertt-1@blowing-mikey @slvt4fakerealities @kaqua @pottahishotasf

[slightlymore]

hardest to love

part of the ‘soulmates collection’

surgeon!doyoung x surgeon!fem reader

others: haechan, jaemin, jeno

genre: medical au (but the medical part is not heavy), romance, angst, smut, fantasy elements, “enemies” to lovers, mutual pining 

warnings: +18, esplicit sexual content: doyoung is a hard dom and a soft dom in different scenes, short instances of sub doyoung, finger sucking (I know, I have a hand kink), spanking, raw, ice play, fingering, dry humping, thigh riding, choking, use of "sir", orgasm control and denial, edging, overstimulation, light degradation, oral f, brat taming, safe word, wine play?; lots of teasing; swearing; discussion around death; doyoung is a jerk but gets better

words: 13k

note: you can read this as a stand alone without having read the other works in the soulmate collection. what you need to know: haechan, jeno and jaemin travel different universes with the purpose of getting doyoung and yn be together. mark is trying to do the opposite. sometimes doyoung can remember past lives and sometimes he can't. this life takes place in a hospital. if you're confused by the three boys’ story everything will be explained in their backstory fics coming soon. 

__________

Haechan let out a single deep sigh. 

“Damn it. Doyoung is a fucking jerk in this life.”

The three young men were standing in the corner of the room watching two students trembling mortified in front of a pissed off Doyoung before he could turn around on his heels. 

“I thought he was a jerk in all lives,” Jeno commented while dusting off imaginary lice off his jacket. 

"I’ll be honest. When you said 'hell' I didn't expect the ER."

“Well have you ever been to-” Haechan continued but stopped when noticing Jeno not listening to him anymore but observing their third friend instead. 

“Hey, Jaemin?” Jeno put one hand on his shoulder. 

Jaemin was weak and paler than usual, eyes wide and with a slightly trembling chin. He then followed the direction of the younger gaze and gasped himself. 

“Yeah,” Haechan grated the back of his head. “I’m sorry. I told you this one is going to be hard.” 

Jaemin gulped, looking at himself walking around the bed and checking on the patients. 

That Jaemin looked exactly like him. 

The only difference was the clothes. That doppelganger had a doctor gown instead of a sweatshirt. 

“How is this possible? I don’t understand how I can be here and there at the same time.”

Haechan sighed at Jaemin’s comment. 

“You could consider it time travel. Now, listen to me.” 

Jaemin let himself be grabbed by Haechan’s hands, pressing on both of his arms and looked at the other’s intense eyes. 

“You have to avoid yourself while we work and-,” he stopped as if making sure to have Jaemin’s whole attention, “-you can’t talk to her.” 

As if Haechan’s voice was a spell that summons people, Jaemin raised his gaze from him to look behind Haechan’s shoulder where a woman was slowly walking the corridor, eyebrows furrowed trying to understand the medical records she was carrying. 

“Shit,” Haechan silently cursed and, placing one hand on Jaemin’s cheek, he indicated to keep quiet by putting one finger on his own lips. 

If Jaemin weren’t so weak in the limbs upon seeing her, he would have felt the tingle on his skin coming from Haechan’s palm, or he would have realized that the woman walked past them as if they were all invisible. 

Jeno, arms crossed on his chest, followed the woman with his eyes then nodded once as to indicate that the path was clear. 

“Why can’t I talk to her?” 

Jaemin’s head wanted to turn around and catch another glimpse but Haechan didn’t move his hand from his face yet. 

“You might, I promise. But only when I say so.” 

“Haechan and I can shapeshift and become invisible but you can’t and we won’t be around to babysit you all the time. Do your part and stay out of trouble.”

"You look mean,” Jaemin mumbled. 

"I am. Now move."

__________

A breath. 

A deep and heavy breath. 

He was hearing it inside his skull. His own irregular breath inside his own skull. 

Then a loud ringing suffocated every other sound in Doyoung’s ears. Like tinnitus, he thought, so used to elaborate information by classifying it into boxes.  

The man was looking at his hands as if they were not his, fingers gripping the defibrillator pads, watching how the chest underneath them rose and fell. 

Again. 

And again. 

A machine. The defibrillator and Doyoung. 

And that body as well. 

But it was too broken to be fixed. 

And when he barely heard the nurse’s question he straightened his back. “Time of death,” he inhaled, his hands now uncovering the wristwatch, “2:41 am,” he exhaled.

__________

Doyoung felt it inside his hands, under the skin. 

It was uncomfortable. 

He looked at his left palm and wished it trembled. 

"A surgeon," the announcement came in the form of a hard pat on the shoulders.

 Doyoung blinked surprised and put his glasses back up on the nose. 

"Great hands," the professor shook them with vigour, his eyes wide open and intense. "Steady," the old man continued his litany of compliments. 

Doyoung let him wiggle his arms for a few more seconds before sighing as another student grabbed the professor's attention. 

The young boy looked down at his hands as well after the man turned his back. 

His eyes scanned every line in his palms as if seeing them for the first time. 

"Those hands will do big things in the future" and Doyoung now, shoulders heavy, moist fringe patted on his forehead in the humidity of the terrace, felt like cutting his hands off. 

Yes. Big things. 

Like playing with life and death. 

Didn't you just kill a man? he asked his hands, lower lip trembling instead of his steady fingers. Huh? and you're fine? 

Doyoung tightened his fists with disgust and punched the air while letting them fall with force to his sides. 

The rain intensified and he stepped in the front further until feeling the cold and heavy drops hit his face. Their sound was chaotic and it calmed Doyoung's heart. 

Again. 

I can do it again. I've done it before. 

I do it again. 

I can get over it. 

He opened up his hands under the rain until he started to not feel his fingertips anymore. 

Then he walked back inside the hospital.

__________

When you had to deal with the first dying patient, you were paralyzed. 

It was very early in the morning. Your head was still full of the dreams you had just a while ago. Your heart was full of life and excitement for finally being able to work in the field. 

"Get your shit together."

That voice startled you. 

Doctor Kim, the most ruthless and cold person you've ever met, was your supervisor as an intern. 

You looked up at him and caught his dark eyes on that spectrally pale face. 

You just moved. You had no idea what you were doing. Terrified, you let your body work automatically. 

Doctor Kim was calm and efficient while your whole mind felt out of place. 

Oh, God. Oh God, please. 

And when his voice finally reached your ears as if from far away you sunk down on your knees. 

"Good job everyone." 

The kindest thing he has ever said to his interns.

The other vaguely kind thing was his introductory discourse. 

"I know that interning at the ER is dreadful, but that's life."

He was staring you all down, a short line of fresh out of med school trembling kids, no one having the courage to meet his eyes. 

"You have to be ready to see all sorts of things here. Okay, let's go."

And that was it. 

The encouragement of his introductory discourse. 

You'll feel like shit here, welcome. 

You hated him and you swore to yourself that you won’t behave the same. 

Ever. 

He was like a souless machine, walking around and tending to his duties. Lost in thoughts as your eyes scanned his figure walking busily around the hospital, you actually wondered if he had feelings at all. 

The first time you saw Doctor Kim actually show some type of sentiment, was when he exited the surgery room one day. 

You were walking around with the others and checking on the patients when he walked through the corridor like a storm. It was unclear what type of feeling that was but it made you unable to stop staring at his side of the face and back as he entered his office. 

The anaesthetist came out soon after, slowly and sighing deeply. 

And then you understood. 

You've lived many of those days afterwards until you had to welcome your own row of interns. 

You smiled and did a nice short welcoming discourse. 

And at that moment you, unfortunately, got what Doctor Kim meant when he was brusque with you in the beginning. 

It took you all three years of residency to finally get it: there were no actual right words to tell the students and there was no point in giving fake hope that everything is going to be alright. 

Still, there was no point in being a rude ass like him. So you at least smiled kindly and encouraged your students. 

God knew they needed it even more now.

You've never spoken much to Doctor Kim besides what was needed or the routine good morning sir and the short morning he would answer with. 

So it was strange that on the first day of your career as a real surgeon, after your hands and those of Doctor Kim near each other worked, barely moving, his muffled voice ordering the tools, your muffled voice doing the same, you hugged him. 

You hugged him that day for no reason besides the overwhelming feeling of being alive. 

Doctor Kim, after every surgery, good or bad, would always walk out on the terrace. 

You followed him that night and stopped behind his frame. You had to talk to someone about what just happened and he was the only one who might understand. 

He was facing the city lights and the wind breeze ruffled his hair. He didn’t care to push it off his forehead. 

"You did well today," he said quietly without looking at you. 

Oh, you blinked fast. 

Your first surgery was a success but your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't understand your feelings. 

Were you happy? Were you about to cry? Did you want to scream and jump? What did you want? 

But Doyoung just complimented you. 

So again, you let your body work automatically and you looked at yourself, as if going through depersonalization, timid feet filling the space between you and Doctor Kim, your hands touching his waist and going around it until meeting each other on his stomach. You placed your head on his shoulders and closed your eyes. 

"I was so scared," you whispered. 

Doctor Kim's body was stiff, no reaction from his posture, no words coming from his mouth. 

Was he shocked? Was he wondering what the hell were you doing? Was he about to tell you to get your shit together again like that first time three years prior? 

But he didn’t do any of these things. 

He sighed once and you imagined him closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of your body. 

Even if for a moment. Even if it was all in your head and he actually hated it. 

Then he took a step forward and you had to let him go. 

And when he turned around and placed one palm on your shoulder without looking at you in the face, you remained alone on the terrace, breathing the cold air deeply and longing for his hands to hold you a little longer.

__________

Doyoung didn't speak to you again after that night. 

Nor did he look at you once. 

While you found yourself staring at his nape every time he walked around. Or turning your head as if following the trail he left behind. 

You couldn’t wear perfume in the hospital but it was as if Doyoung did because he’d pull your senses towards him by something invisible. 

As if that first touch you shared connected you to him in obscure ways. 

“Here’s the coffee that you asked for, sir.” You entered his office after his dry “come in”.

His expression was priceless and for a moment you felt the urge to look behind you and see if there were a ghost scaring him.

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Bringing you the coffee?” 

“I asked a student to do it, not you. You’re a surgeon.” 

Your lips were dangerously trying to form a smile while you placed the coffee on his desk. 

“Why does it matter? I am free while those students are busy learning how to be doctors.” 

“You think that just because you hugged me once when you were emotionally unstable, now we’re friends?” 

That question was so sudden and cold to make you snap your head upwards. 

His eyes were darker than usual and you almost gulped. 

“No, sir.” 

Your voice came out as a tiny exhale and if he felt sorry for his sudden and out of place tone, you couldn't see it on his face at all. 

"I was just being friendly as all colleagues would," you added a new note to your own tone, trying to perhaps make him feel guilty. 

"You can give me up."

His reply shut you up and you furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

"I'm saying," he spoke slowly, "that I don't want to be friendly with you. Now, please leave."

________

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" you threw your head back to drink your espresso shot as if it was alcohol and slammed the paper cup back on the counter. 

Jaemin sighed pouring sugar into his coffee. 

"Why did you even try? He's a jerk." 

The man sipped on his drink slowly, the warmth of it misting his glasses. 

“I just-” you huffed, crossing your arms on your chest. “We’re colleagues. It made sense for him to be a piece of shit with us when we were interns but now? ‘I don’t want to be friendly with you’” you mocked his deep voice. “Who the fuck does he think he is? I swear I’ll accidentally stab him with a knife!”

“Hm. Do you like him?” Jaemin asked with an unimpressed tone. 

You almost grabbed the coffee from Jaemin’s hands and threw it in his face. 

“Are you insane? What does that mean? Why would I like him? Kim Doyoung? Me-” you pressed your index on your chest, “liking that asshole? I hate his guts! I can’t believe you said something like this! What’s to like about him?”

Jaemin felt his fringe move around his forehead at your intense voice as if it were wind. 

“No need to get so worked up about it. You’re just talking so often about him lately. Also, he’s objectively good looking. He’s also smart. I understand.” 

“He’s the ugliest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on! And he’s an idiot! And I don’t talk about him! I have no idea what you’re all about.” 

Jaemin rolled his eyes and finished the drink. 

“Talking of ugly. What’s that shirt you’re wearing?” you asked. 

The man’s head snapped down to look at it. “What’s wrong with it?” 

You chuckled once. “Where did you buy it?” 

“It’s a normal Polo.” 

You laughed even harder. “A Polo you say? And what’s that? A knock off Holo?”  

“What’s Holo?” 

Jaemin’s face was genuinely confused and it amused you even more. 

“Are you getting enough sleep? You’ve been acting weird lately.” 

“Or,” he relaxed his expression, lifting one index up, “I come from an alternate universe.” 

You chuckled once and hit his shoulder lightly as a greeting, liking his new joking side. “See you later then, alternate universe Jaemin.”

__________

Doyoung wanted to hit his head on the desk. 

Your expression, hurt and shocked because of his stupid remarks made his heart tingle in a very uncomfortable way. 

One thing was being severe and one thing was being rude for no reason at all. 

But the thing is that you were everywhere and he hated it. 

Doyoung hated that you were trying to get under his skin. 

Like a scent. Like some kind of drug. 

He’d scrub his hands and forearms even harder before going inside the surgery room as if with the water and soap he could get rid of the feeling of your arms around his torso under the rain too. 

What were you even thinking? Asking for reassurance? From him? Reassurance from the most hated man in the whole hospital? What did you even expect? Why would you even try? 

What a reckless person. 

He noticed it the first time he saw you as well. 

Eyes wide with curiosity and surprise, looking around the ER like it was the best place in the world. Doyoung hated your happiness but he also hated the fact that he would have to assist that light slowly die out with time. 

Or at least he thought that would happen. 

Days after days, months after months, he paid attention like a scientist looking at his object of study, taking mental notes and registering results. Doyoung would jolt with secret joy when his theories would reveal themselves to be true but then, like a rollercoaster, he’d feel weighed down with grief seeing you in the same state as his one. 

Until he didn’t know what to desire to see anymore. 

Until one day he lifted his eyes, head full of a soliloquy towards you. “How are you today? Tell me you got better. Tell me you still have your light because no one needs too many black holes in here.” 

Until he realized that he couldn’t remember anything about his life before you. 

And when you hugged him that day, he felt proud. For your success and your light. 

You were a star and he bathed into that warmth for a little before remembering he was still a black hole and black holes attract stars until engulfing them whole with no turning back.

_________

“Why are you always around?” he blinked annoyed. 

You straightened your gown that shifted after bumping into him and sighed loudly. 

“In case you forgot, I work here.” 

Doyoung sighed. 

“This is the farthest yard from where you’re always playing with your friends.” 

“I had business coming here.” 

“What business?” 

“That’s my business.” 

Doyoung’s corner of the mouth twitched. 

“It’s our business.” 

“Are you a communist?” you placed your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. 

“I’m your superior. What are you doing here?” 

A few nurses whispered passing you by and you cleared your throat, trying to relax your face muscles. Doyoung rolled his eyes once upon seeing your new fake cordial expression. 

“Apparently I’m doing such a good job that Mr Jung wanted to compliment me,” you raised your chin. 

“Mr Jung?”

“Yes.” 

His nostrils widened as if he had too much air to inhale and didn’t have time to get it little by little. 

“He doesn’t just summon people to compliment them. Stay away from him.” 

You scoffed incredulously at his innuendo. 

“Are you hearing yourself?” 

“Very well. Get back to work now.” 

“Are you perhaps jealous?” the words slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

But Doyoung, to your biggest surprise, smirked a little, lifting his eyebrows once. 

“And if I were?” he asked, then walked around you, leaving you still for long moments in the corner of the corridor before being able to walk again.

_________

“And then he said, “and if I were?”

Jaemin gulped his food and chuckled. “I can’t imagine that.” 

“I know right? Was he crazy?” you asked with your mouth full, swinging your knife. 

“Maybe the director does have eyes on you. And-” he leaned in mischievously, avoiding your cutlery, “that’s why he acts as if he hates you. Because he has feelings for you.” 

You chuckled nervously. 

“He hates you too!” 

“He doesn’t even know I exist,” Jaemin shrugged. 

“Hey, Jaemin.” 

“Like once I asked him something and he thought I was a patient and when I said that I’m actually-” 

“Jaemin! I’m pretty sure I’ve just seen someone looking like you pass that door just now.” 

The young man turned around quickly, right in time to see himself exit the food hall. 

“Damn,” he laughed for a few moments. “Someone else copied my hairstyle. I guess I’m not that unnoticeable as I thought.” 

You opened your mouth to comment on that since you were pretty sure it wasn’t only the hairstyle that the man copied when Doyoung approached your table like a storm scaring the shit out of you. 

“What is it now?” he asked, eyes piercing through you. 

You let out a long “uhhh” before talking, staring him up and down. 

“Are you talking to me?” 

Doyoung scoffed then sighed. “A doctor told me you were urgently looking for me.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Who?” 

“Do I look like someone who knows people’s names?”

Jaemin shook his head. 

“Well, I don’t need you,” you let him know. 

Doyoung sighed again and the long look you exchanged made Jaemin awkwardly chuckle once. 

“You can sit down with us for lunch, sir,” he offered and you inhaled sharply, kicking his leg under the table. 

Doyoung looked firstly at you then at Jaemin then at you again as if not believing he was actually talking to people like you. 

But the tray in his hands was getting heavy and there were no other empty tables. 

He walked around Jaemin and sat down near him. 

Then he rolled his sleeves and started to eat in silence. 

But only for a moment. 

“What?” he asked as you were both staring at him with hanging open mouths. 

“It’s our first time seeing you eat,” you whispered. 

Doyoung gulped the food. “I’m putting on a show for you guys. I’m a vampire that doesn’t need food.” 

“See!” you hit Jaemin’s hand as if catching his attention. “He’s making jokes!” 

Jaemin leaned back in his chair as if a little afraid. 

“So you talk about me instead of working,” Doyoung commented. 

His eyes were on you and you suddenly realized what you’ve just said. 

“No,” you quickly grabbed your glass and sipped the water. 

Doyoung looked at Jaemin and the young man secretly nodded a little. 

And for the first time in years, you saw Doyoung smile. 

Like a full-on smile. A big open smile with all the teeth out. 

You blinked fast and before realizing your own lips were stretched in a smile too.  

He was breathtaking. 

You wanted to run away but also crash into him. You were at the top of the world and down in the dumps.

__________

The grunt you let out after hitting a hard surface resonated in the whole hallway. 

For the second time. 

"You are always where you shouldn't be."

You lifted your pained eyes while massaging your shoulder just to see Doyoung do the same. 

"Where am I and where am I supposed to be then?" you asked. 

"Around me and you should be far away from me." 

"And if I say that I'm doing it on purpose?" 

Doyoung's pupils trembled. 

"To make you mad," you explained, the little smile creeping on your lips making him tighten his. 

“You’re trying to make me mad?” 

In your head, all of the conversations you would have with Doyoung sounded fun and risky in a good way. 

In reality, you realized, it was so overwhelming that you felt your limbs shake. 

“I’m joking, sir.” His intense eyes made you look over the windows. 

“You don’t like to look at me in the eyes?” his voice was mellifluous just as his movements, getting slowly closer to you. 

“Your eyes make me uneasy,” you replied honestly. 

Doyoung tilted his head to the side, curious, inviting you to say more. You looked at him again. 

“As if they don’t know fear,” your voice was tiny. 

A little smile curved the man’s lips. “Oh, but they know what fear is.”

“And what is that?” 

“What you’re feeling right now.” 

"I am not afraid," you whispered. 

"Then why are you stepping back?" 

“I am not stepping back.”

Yet the air got softly knocked out of your lungs as you felt the wall on your shoulder blades. 

Doyoung didn't reply and just got as close as to lightly brush your lower lip with his knuckle. 

"You're cute when you pout," he whispered, eyes smiley under the strands fallen from his styled fringe. 

You opened your mouth to talk but he walked away, leaving you alone and with an abnormally beating heart. 

Again.

__________

If Doyoung’s newly humorous side was something interesting to share with Jaemin, his newly flirtatious side was something you felt the need to keep a secret. 

Heated up, you walked the corridors like a storm. 

Kim Doyoung? 

Did your body really react that way towards Kim Doyoung? 

Pulse throbbing in places you didn’t want to think of? 

Because of Kim Doyoung? 

Face buried in your wet hands, the cold water running in the sink, you imagined telling this to your younger self. 

Then you lifted your head and turned it off, raising your gaze to look at your dilated pupils in the bathroom mirror.

_________

Doyoung didn’t care about people much. 

Hours upon hours of surgery, he only needed to see his colleagues’ hands and hear their breaths while desperately trying to save yet another life. How they looked without the caps and masks was not something of interest to him, especially knowing superfluous details like their names. 

Yet, when he briefly noticed the eyes of the second surgeon entering the room, Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows. 

Those were not your eyes and those were definitely not your hands in the latex gloves. 

And for the first time, he needed to know who that person was.

“I’m Lee,” the man whispered. 

“I didn’t know you were on schedule today.” 

“Yeah, heard about it last minute as well.”

Were you avoiding him? 

If Doyoung’s body could show tremor, he’d had trembling legs under the desk he sat at after the surgery, and if he’d had the habit to bite his nails, he’d be ferociously eating them by now.

Unfortunately, he was stoically sitting in his office, elbows pressed into the hard iron surface, veins missing adrenaline but aggravated eyes. 

Walking the corridors while people took a step back to make him pass, looking away when he’d look at them and whispering angrily behind his back, was a bliss. 

The protection shielded Doyoung like a fuzzy blanket even if it sometimes felt itchy at night when he found himself the most lonely. 

So when you did the same, passing him by as if hating him, he surprised himself at the sudden discomfort. Especially after

well,

after that. 

He wasn’t sure himself what it was but it must have been something if it made you uncomfortable enough to not show up to a surgery. 

He lifted the corner of his blanket for a moment and he fucked up. 

__________

“Y/N.” 

You stopped in place. 

And so did most people around you. 

Many found Doyoung scary but also interesting to observe when his spite wasn’t directed at them. 

What did she do? you could almost hear the whispery words passing from ear to ear, amused voices, grateful for not being in your place. 

“See me in my office,” Doyoung ordered after you slowly turned around. 

His voice was low and no one could have heard it if the whole yard didn’t just collectively hold its breath. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You all are surely not working enough if you have time to be useless,” his voice sounded louder and clean all of a sudden. “Do you want some hours assigned?”  

Like a spell, everyone looked around and the buzz filled your ears back, leaving yourself and Doyoung the only still figures. 

Then he moved as well, the swoosh of his cloak touching your hand when he passed near you. 

You inhaled deeply and followed him.

_________

“I am sorry.” 

You wished you’d  accepted his offer to sit down because that single sentence floored you. 

“For what?” you asked with a tiny voice. 

“I know I often say things that I don’t mean. And I know that I might have made you feel uncomfortable. So I apologize.” 

His eyes were round and filled to the brim with such sincerity to make you swallow hard. 

“You don’t have to apologize. It was necessary to make me who I am,��� you minimized. 

Doyoung looked away for a brief moment. “I mean the corridor incident.” 

You blinked at him. 

“I made a mistake,” he added. 

The first thing that came to mind was the urge to use that to your advantage. 

Scold him. Make him feel guilty. 

Kim Doyoung making a mistake. 

Exhilarating. 

The power suddenly surging in your veins went to your head so you suppressed the smile that so desperately wanted to bloom on your lips. 

“Yes.” 

His expression darkened even more at your reply and his adam apple moved as he swallowed. He actually hoped it wasn’t the case. 

“I’ll make sure to keep the surgery schedules separated so you won’t feel uncomfortable working with me. You could have asked me first though before changing it yourself.” 

The excitement died out with these words. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Thursday’s surgery.” 

“I was told you appointed another person yourself.” 

“I did not.” 

“Well, I didn’t either.” 

“So-” 

“It’s not like I’m trying to avoid you, no. But if you-” 

“I’m not trying to avoid you either. But you said I made you uncomfortable, so-” 

“I was messing with you.” 

He finally went silent. 

“You looked so guilty that I wanted to get a little revenge,” your voice came out a timid whisper. 

Doyoung sighed, closing his eyes a little, then he stood up. 

“Did I seriously cause you that much pain all of this time?” he walked towards you as if actually concerned. 

“You made me cry almost every day.” 

He opened his mouth like a fish before closing it. The shocking confession made him lift one hand to cup your face. 

You both looked at it with fluttering eyes as if it wasn’t his. 

He tried to put it away quickly but you pressed your palm on it to keep it in place.  

“I’m joking. I only cried a few times.” 

Doyoung’s pupils danced around just like his brain trying to process the information you were giving him. His face, confused and not knowing anymore what was a joke and what wasn’t, amused you a lot. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been harsh. I’ve been-”

“A jerk.” 

He gulped, his thumb slowly brushing your cheekbone. 

That little gesture made you close your eyes for a moment. And when you opened them, you just leaned in and placed a quick and chaste kiss on his closed lips. 

“If the corridor thing was a mistake for you, I just did one too. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We can pretend nothing of this happened."

You let his hand go and moved to take a step back just to feel his hold on your face tighten. 

Pulling you towards him again, he added the second hand. 

His lips were not closed anymore, but very much open to welcome your lower lip between them. 

Your hands flew to his hair and pulled him towards you too. He hummed and you whined. And when you both needed air, you let yourselves go, panting against each other’s lips. 

A little smile curved your lips, eyes unable to look up. Fingers on his neck, you let them slowly descend to his chest and you took a step back. 

You took your lower lip inside your mouth for a moment, as if still trying to taste him and walked a few steps back. 

Doyoung followed you, unable to let your body go until you touched the door. His eyes were blown out and he kissed the corner of your mouth again, and again, and again, until kissing you fully on the lips for the second time. Hands on the glass behind your head, you heard his nails grating at it slowly as you let your tongue twirl with his. Then you breathed out and he couldn’t do anything else than just moving his arms away for you to slowly open the door and leave in silence. 

After the door closed, Doyoung pressed his forehead on the cold window. 

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, the fuzzy blanket he carefully wrapped himself with all of those years slowly slipping away to his feet.

__________

It didn't surprise you to see Doyoung pretend nothing happened between you as you passed each other in the corridors. 

But his avoidance felt weirder than usual, even to external eyes, as if something happened indeed and he tried so hard to conceal it. 

"Perhaps it's the 5th coffee talking right now, but doesn't Doyoung look weird?"

Jaemin asked lazily as he rested his body on one elbow placed on the little resting room counter. Said man passed in front of the open door and the furtive look he took of you was interesting enough for someone bored like Jaemin to notice. 

You shrugged, quickly stirring the sugar in your own coffee. 

"Hm?" your friend smiled at your silence, getting closer. 

You sipped the drink. 

"Hmmm?" Jaemin put his face into yours. 

"Oh my God, get away," you tried to push him away. 

"You had sex."

You spat the little coffee you still had on your mouth. Jaemin giggled and took a step back before it could land on his own. 

"We did not have sex! What's wrong with you?" 

"Okay. So you at least kissed," he looked up to you under his wiggly eyebrows as he handed you a few napkins. 

"We-," you wanted to deny but your lips formed a frustrated smile instead. "Shit. I can't believe it either." 

"Wow."

"He was- so delicate," you murmured. 

Jaemin winced amused. 

"But also intense you know? Like it felt-" 

"Okay wait. I didn't ask for a full-on description," he made a puking expression at you. 

You lightly hit his arm. 

"I was just so surprised. I've never seen this side of him."

"Him liking people?" Jaemin giggled. “Yeah. That’s weird.”

__________

"So it's done. We're done. Let’s get the fuck out of here. Seeing myself around is creeping me out."

Haechan sighed, rolling around in his chair. "Not so quickly. They only kissed."

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows. 

"They have to confess," Jeno explained with a sleepy voice, sprawled on his own chair. 

"But they love each other."

"They have to say the words."

Jaemin put his hands on the hips. "That's so stupid." 

“Tell this to Doyoung. This is what he wrote in the contract,” Haechan mumbled amused, patting his chest where the Book was snuggly packed near his heart. 

Jaemin grabbed another chair and sat backwards on it, resting his chin on the folded arms. 

“So you know the job is done when they confess? What if they break up afterwards?”

“It has never happened before.” 

“And what if it does happen?” 

Jeno opened one eye. “Don’t manifest doom.” 

“I’d probably have to come back and get them together again,” Haechan replied. 

“I still don’t know why you’re doing this. Can’t you just recede from that contract?” 

Haechan sat up properly and grabbed his water bottle. “And do what? Go back to the pits of hell?” 

His eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“I’ve never had this much fun in a very long time.”

__________

He brought it upon himself, he could admit that. 

Ignoring you was more difficult than he anticipated and the first reaction he managed to put out when you talked back to him in front of all of the other surgeons was his usual skin cutting one. 

You didn’t like it, he could see it. 

You’ve never liked it and, honestly, Doyoung could not think of a single person that enjoyed being on the other side of his table. 

Perhaps you were getting a little comfortable with him though because you leaned back in your chair and smiled. As if for once he couldn’t get to you. 

It made him even more eager to scratch that nonchalance. 

So he did. 

Until the meeting was over and he got back to his office with a weird sensation on his shoulders. It somehow tasted like defeat. 

And when you opened his door with a loud bang and got in, he inhaled and took a few steps back, imitating the steps you took forward. 

You pushed him down on the chair, your gazes mixed together just like your breaths as you leaned down. 

Only the sheer anticipation of you touching him made him lose his mind a little. 

One hand on his thigh and the other going down from his lips to his extended neck and chest, dragging your nail on his shirt until reaching his stomach and belt. 

Then you hit one of his feet to the side with yours, making him open his legs even wider. 

He jolted and you could visibly see the way his breath stopped for a moment. 

"I don't think someone else tried to put you in your place before."

Your voice was dark and his eyelids fluttered before his pupils could fall on the way your palm brushed his crotch. It twitched under his dress pants and he inhaled deeply. 

"Unfortunately, it has to be me." 

"We're at work-," he tried to speak but the words died in his throat as you cupped his balls. 

"Sorry? Didn't hear that." 

"Shit Y/N-," Doyoung closed his eyes, jaw muscles tightening as you gently massaged him. 

"Hmm, Doctor Kim is at a loss of words?" 

You cooed, leaning down even more until almost brushing his lips with yours. 

"So cold and composed while you spit venom all day. I really want to see you lose your mind for once."

He opened his eyes right when he started to pant lightly and you gulped upon seeing his dark gaze. 

"You'll regret this."

"Can't wait to feel regretful."

"Be careful."

"Don't want to." 

His smile grew suddenly wicked and it threw you off as he suddenly stood up, grabbing your wrists and pushing you gently backwards. 

"You’ve been loving fighting with me lately. I think that you just need to get laid."

You smiled. "Do you want to help me with that?" 

Doyoung scoffed once. "I can't stand you."

"Then sit down."

He put his tongue inside the cheek, staring at your raised chin. 

Then his hands suddenly crept around you and grabbed your ass. They squeezed, pulling your hips towards his, making you pant and palm his chest in the meantime. Body pressing on his and his low voice buzzing into your ear made you light headed. 

"Arguing with you turns me on so fucking much." 

You gulped and noticed the way Doyoung’s eyes fell on your open mouth. 

“This is a very pretty shade of lipstick. Makes me want to ruin it.”

His thumb opened up your shocked lips even more by tugging at the lower one, your eyes getting hazy from his expression cutting you in half.

“Suck.” 

The order made your legs buckle a little. Your pupils trembled when you slowly let your tongue touch his fingertip. Doyoung got impatient and pushed it until it was all in. You fought the urge to gag and just whimpered, grabbing his shirt into your fists as he watched you hollow your cheeks on it. 

“I’ve always wanted to make a mess out of you,” he murmured, his other hand cupping your face and feeling your jaw, going down to your neck and wrapping it into its warmth. You raised your face to give him more space and your hooded eyes trying to look at him as he pressed around your throat made him smirk. 

“You like that?” he watched your squirming body trying to get closer to him. He took a step back and rested his hips on his desk, pulling at you until you felt his thigh between your legs. 

“What a slut,” he took out his thumb and spread the saliva on it on your lips. “Bet you wanted to suck me off under the desk, didn’t you? Fuck your superior?” 

You started to breathe through your mouth, the hand wrapped around your throat making it difficult for you to form any thoughts. 

“Or you wanted me to bend you over it?” he murmured, eyes glazing over your breast, his free hand painting one line from your collarbones to the cleavage of it. And when he suddenly squeezed one, feeling its softness in his palm, you almost cried out and dug your fingers into his shoulders. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Doyoung’s corner of the lips lifted as if curiously surprised. 

“And if I don’t do any of those things?” his eyes were on your face now and it made you want to hide away or just beg him to just please do all of those things.

“What are you going to do?” he asked again. 

The pool of wetness inside your panties was so embarrassing that you pressed your forehead on his shoulder. 

"Then just let me go," you whispered in a tiny voice. 

"You're free to g-" he caressed your jaw with one thumb. 

"No. I hate it," you went on, lifting your gaze on him, and he exchanged the look, slightly taken aback. 

"I dream about you every night. It's not about sex, it has never been just about it. Everything about you makes me go crazy. I hate it and I want you to just let me go.” 

Doyoung blinked and cupped your face with both hands. 

You just breathed out, ignoring the little voice screaming inside your mind to shut up, palming the back of his hands with yours, suddenly unable to raise your eyes on him. 

"I just can't understand and I hate being like this," you added after a quick gulp. 

The man opened his lips and you noticed the way you started to breathe in unison. 

"There's something so darkly attractive about you," the tiny sigh coming out of your lips made their way on Doyoung ones and he licked them once, his own breath warm on your skin. 

"No matter how much I try to know you, there's something that escapes me. I can't pinpoint you and it keeps me up at night." 

Doyoung gulped and his hands twitched as they palmed your arms, going down to your hips and pushing you down, gently. 

You gasped silently, your core so swollen that the feeling of the friction of your bodies as you rubbed on him could have been enough to make you orgasm. 

"Sir-," you found the force to talk but he took his tongue out and you just dove in, catching it inside your mouth and sucking on it the way you sucked on his finger. Your eagerness made his hold even tighter, guiding your body rolls, loving the way you squirmed in his arms. 

When you pulled away to whine he raised one hand to bury in your hair. 

"You haunt me too," he confessed. "Sometimes I feel so pulled towards you to make me question everything I know about myself."

Your eyes fluttered and your exposed throat looked so vulnerable in Doyoung's eyes to make him lean in and bite on it. 

The little moans escaping your lips caressed his ears and when he licked the spots you shivered, your hips not stopping for a second. 

It was intoxicating and you didn't dare to speak again but your thoughts were seeping through all of your pores. 

"I want you to tell me what you want me to do," you whispered, words broken.  

"Don't cum," Doyoung ordered and it snapped something in you. 

Your breath grew irregular and he chuckled. 

With a little groan, you forced your hips to still but he looked down and clicked his tongue, pushing his thigh upwards and making you bounce on it a few times.  

"Don't stop."

"But you said-" 

"Don't cum and don't stop." 

"I can't last," you mewled, twitching against his body and he pouted. 

"Baby girl can't keep that in?" 

You shook your head, feeling all dizzy as his hands squeezed your asscheeks, making you rub against his leg again. 

"But I said what I said. Are you going to be a bad girl?" he accompanied his last word with a harsh slap on your ass that made you inhale through your teeth. 

"Sir- I am begging you." 

His hand dropped under your skirt that moved to your thighs in a single movement, the coldness of it on your hot clit making you cry out. 

He hummed amused, slowly pressing into you and circling your sensitive bud until your legs started to twitch. 

"If you want to cum," he stopped, "you'll have to do whatever I say. Is this an agreement?" 

You nodded quickly, so close to orgasm that you started to ride his fingers by yourself. 

He retrieved his hand and pressed it on your stomach, making you step back until you barely could keep your balance. 

"You know where I live, right?" 

You nodded confused. 

"See you later then," he smirked and gestured to leave the office. 

You inhaled deeply, the arousal so high that you considered just finger fucking yourself in front of him. 

"Cruel," you whispered. 

"And you love it," was his amused reply.

__________

Timid feet in front of Doyoung's entrance door, you questioned if you actually lost your mind. 

Were you really willing to go this far for a single orgasm? 

Or multiple, you considered. 

Okay. Well, perhaps it was all worth it in the end. 

Your eyes darted upwards to take in the view of his house. 

The windows were lit on the first floor and it looked like a place you'd love to spend your life in. It was too huge for a single person anyway. 

When he opened the door after the ring announcing your arrival you didn't expect to see him in casual clothing. It looked so off that for a moment you couldn't speak, eyeing his feet in warm socks instead of rubber shoes. 

Then you hit yourself in your mind. Of course, he won't wear his doctor gown at home. 

"Good evening," you finally smiled and he eyed your body with a relaxed gaze, stopping when noticing the bottle of wine you carried in your hands. 

“Good evening,” he gestured to you to come in and you walked the distance from the doorstep to the hallway. His hands draped your shoulders and you sighed when he took your wet coat away. 

You put in a lot of effort in your appearance, choosing the right clothing and accessories. 

And he put a lot of effort into arranging his house for you, lighting up the right candles, you noticed after he indicated a room to the left. 

Yet all you wanted to see was him. 

And all he wanted was to see was you naked. 

Venturing in slowly, you turned around looking at what you figured out was the living room. With the corner of your eyes, you saw the grey of Doyoung’s sweatpants disappear upstairs and it suddenly got silent, safe for the crackle coming from the chimney and the hard rain hitting the windows. You took off your shoes and cautiously walked on the dark wine-coloured rug, close enough to warm yourself. A black glassy mirror was hung on the wall in front of you showcasing the pitiful state you were in because of the storm. Then you looked at the piles of books scattered around your feet placed down in a chaotic path leading to the velvet couches behind you as if someone read them while circling the room and suddenly let them fall on the ground when bored. You followed the spines with your gaze trying to figure out the language they were written in when two feet made their appearance in your peripheral vision, making you snap your head up. 

He approached you with a little smile, getting closer and closer like a black cat. 

New thick energy made it difficult for you to breathe too deeply so you resorted to short inhales and exhales especially after he stopped so close to you. 

Doyoung's hands wrapped yours as he took the wine away and placed it on the coffee table on his left. Then he sighed and you found yourself shivering under his gaze. 

"Take this off," he lightly felt your shirt's material with his fingertips.  

What? You inhaled, mind buzzing at how easy it was this time. No dinner and fancy courtship? 

He did look like someone that'd rather take you into seclusion and have you for himself as quickly as possible though. 

With slightly trembling fingers that you'd never get in the surgery room, you started to unbutton your top. Doyoung tilted his head to the side with a little smirk as if enjoying the show. 

And when you actually found yourself with only your bra on he smiled, even more, eyes grazing your skin slowly until you felt a heatwave shake your limbs. 

“This too.” 

He slowly touched the bra fabric and you gulped. 

“Take it off yourself.” 

Doyoung chuckled once and went around your torso, unclasping it with quick and expert fingers. 

You jolted and you felt your eyelids flutter as it slowly fell down your arms. 

Doyoung grabbed the front part of it and dragged it down to the floor, adding it to the weird maze of books making the eccentric design of his living room. 

His eyes caressed your perked nipples and you tried hard to resist the urge to cover yourself. 

“Pants,” he ordered and his voice was deeper than usual. 

You wavered a moment and he lifted his eyebrows once. Do it. 

You inhaled and slowly opened the zip. 

He bit his lower lip when you bent down to discard the piece of clothing and when you straightened your back he hummed. 

“Wear this,” he gently threw a piece of fabric towards you which you caught quickly. It was soft and it smelled like him. 

He looked at it, then slowly raised his eyes to meet yours, not moving a single muscle. 

You inhaled in again, trying to calm your nerves, desperately wanting to ignore the way he was dressed himself. A white and see-through shirt with the deepest neck you’ve ever seen, barely covering any of his chest. You barely could see his sweatpants as well, but his bare ankles were fully on display, just like his forearms that you could catch glimpses of as he absentmindedly revived the locks blocking his pupils with one hand. 

A raw playfulness made his features even scarier in the dim lighting. 

“I want you wet. But not from the rain,” he explained, eyeing your confusion. 

“You could have just told me to change into it and end it there,” you mumbled, buttoning the shirt up. It was deep blue and oversized, short on your thighs but hiding whatever you had to hide. 

“Why? Did you hate that I made you undress in front of me?” 

“It was embarrassing to stand naked like that.” 

You wanted to sound offended but the pout your lips formed on its own betrayed your secret amusement. 

“Nothing that I won’t see up close soon.” 

His voice was a whisper that forced you to look away. You wanted to reply but he turned around walking towards the kitchen. 

"Besides, I made some spicy sauce. You don't want to spill it on your nice clothes."

“Who said I was going to spill food on myself? I have steady hands.” 

You walked over him, taking the plates from his hold and placing them down on the dining table yourself. 

You wanted to look unbothered by him just like he looked unbothered by you, but the truth was that you just had to do something to not feel that overwhelmed. 

“You don’t,” he argued following you near the table. 

You scoffed lifting your head to look at him. “Excuse you? I’m a surgeon.” 

“Your hands don’t look like the hands of a surgeon when you’re around me.” 

You scoffed. 

“I think that the biggest thing in the world is your ego.”

“You haven't seen my-”

“Don’t say it.” 

He closed his mouth as the little smile he had on kept lingering on his lips. 

Domestic and flirty. It was getting to your head and you hadn’t had the opportunity to sip a single drop of alcohol yet. 

As if reading your mind, he grabbed the bottle of wine you brought and fumbled slowly with the cap. 

"That's my favourite shirt. And I want to fuck you in it." 

The shivers that travelled down your spine almost made your body twitch and your hands stopped in mid-air as you were placing the cutlery. 

He smiled at you when you looked at his expression. 

His lips. His eyes and cheekbones. His skin under the lights. 

Fuck. You really needed a drink. 

And after he popped the bottle open with a loud sound that disrupted the silence, the red wine erupted out of it, dripping off his hand up to the wrist you had your drink right off his fingers. 

Doyoung’s pupils trembled as you leaned in like a cat and his lips opened to breathe better seeing you lick the drops off his fingertips. Rested with his hips on the table, it creaked when you came forward, even more, hands pressed on his open thighs and reaching for his face. You finally caught his lips in yours and you let him taste the wine on your tongue. 

It was rich and slightly sour, then it became sweet as only Doyoung’s taste remained lingering on his lips. 

“Delicious,” he commented after the slow kiss. “You have good taste in wine.” 

“And men.” 

His expression was hidden under his long fringe but you could sense that he was smirking. 

Then he raised his head a bit and had a gulp out of the bottle himself. 

You had the first row to the show that his adam apple moving up and down gave you. Then your eyes naturally fell to his collarbones and bare chest, his white shirt barely covering anything. 

Your fingers gently darted to his skin and you palmed it, then to his prominent collar bones, feeling the warmth of his chain around his neck.

He hummed, letting his head down to catch your hand with his lips. They kissed your fingertips then he finally dove in and let you taste his tongue again, hands quick to let the bottle go and grab your body instead.

Closer closer closer you needed him more and more. 

“I need to feed you dinner first,” he grabbed your wrists as your hands tried to unbutton his shirt. 

“If you won’t fuck me, I can find someone else to do it,” you whispered. 

His eyes tightened and he exhaled once. 

The movement was so quick that your head spun and the spank that arrived at your ass made you jolt on your toes before you could lean down on the table, fingers trying to grip the tablecloth. 

“Yeah? I want to see you get fucked by someone else while my name spills out of your filthy mouth.” 

His voice was raspy and it made you bite your lower lip, ass eager to push back and to rub against Doyoung's crotch. He hummed at your movements and lifted the shirt up to your waist, palming your skin and looking down at the way your ass cheeks engulfed your pretty lingerie. You strained your neck upwards at the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing your lower back, feeling the lace of your panties, then you whimpered as he grabbed the material and stretched it towards him before letting it go. 

"You want this little hole all filled up, don't you?" he murmured, hand sliding between your thighs to rub on the soft and thin fabric. Your legs shifted in place at the sensation and you arched your back for more. The little 'Doyoung' making him exhale. 

"And I thought you'd keep calling me sir." 

You tried to turn your head towards him, wondering if his suddenly absent hand meant that he wanted you to actually call him that. 

But then you saw that hand around you, reaching for the bucket of ice prepared for the wine on the table in front of you. And at that moment you realized that it was for you instead - his drink for the night. 

The ice cube wetted his fingers when he took it out and he first placed it on your open lips. You sucked on it for a moment, the warmth of your skin already melting it, strands of water slowly descending on your chin and inside your cleavage. 

"Say 'blue' and I'll stop," his voice was deep near your ear. 

You nodded breathlessly and you shivered feeling his hand hover over your back. 

And when you first felt it on your spine, your fingers independently grabbed the edge of the table. Then it went down and down, forcing goosebumps out of you. 

Doyoung’s palm soothed your skin, warming it up before reaching to the front to grab at your hard nipples poking through the fabric. And when the cube reached your clothed core you mewled, lifting yourself on the tiptoes. 

“Shit-shit-,” you curled your neck down, jolting under his touch, wanting more of it and running away at the same time. 

Your panties were all wet and you were unsure if for the ice or your own body and when Doyoung took away the cube, giving you a break by gently pressing his own wet fingers between your lips you wished for the fabric to not be there anymore. 

“More?” you whined, chest rising and falling at a crazy speed. 

Doyoung snickered once, his hands grabbing your sides and turning you around.

Mind hazy, you didn’t have the time to wonder where the ice cube went, the only thought roaming your head being the need to pull him closer to you. 

And you did just that, wrapping his waist with your thighs after he lifted you on the table with a thud, making all the cutlery and glasses jingle. 

And you clasped your fingers into his hair while his hands roamed your naked body under his shirt. 

It was when he pressed his cold, open lips on yours that you finally mewled, feeling the ice cube travel from his tongue to yours. 

It got smaller and you sucked on it, giving it back, hearing him hum deeply into the kiss. 

Then he broke it suddenly as if unable to control himself from kissing your neck instead, biting and sucking on your skin as hard as he did on the ice cube. You rolled it on your tongue until it became nothing, finally opening your lips to moan, feeling his cold touch on your breasts as his quick fingers unbuttoned the shirt. 

The material of your panties grazed your legs at Doyoung’s rough pull. You watched them fly and land on the lamp behind him. 

Then you felt his fingers finally rubbing your clit and you inhaled deeply. You were so horny that you were embarrassed to admit that just a few rubs would be able to throw you over the edge. 

Doyoung saw it and from his expression, he was enjoying himself maybe too much. 

“Come on love, cum for me,” he murmured on your open lips. You whined, nail digging into his shoulders and you shook your head. 

“You’ve been begging me for an orgasm and now you want to be a brat about it?” 

His hand worked quicker and when he inserted one of his long and slender fingers inside, you actually moaned loudly. 

“Sir-” the title slipped from your shaking lips and he chuckled against your cheek, pushing another one and curling them both, pressing into you and trying to find the sweetest spots you had. 

“Right here?” he whispered amused. 

You start swearing, moulding his biceps under your tight grip, the table and everything on it shaking at the fast pace of Doyoung’s pumping. 

And then it was too much and it overflowed. 

The gasp you emitted made you fall forwards. Your arms wrapped Doyoung’s body tightly as you came in spasms, legs trying hard to meet each other around his wrist but pressing into his sides instead. 

Doyoung let you whine a little bit more, hand slowing down but never stopping, fucking you through your orgasms as long as he could. Then your jaw got grabbed by his other hand and he lifted your face to meet his gaze. His eyes caressed your fucked up expression before kissing your lips. 

"Good girl. I know you can give me another one."

You gripped his shoulders for dear life as Doyoung's fingers came back outside to desperately rub at your over-sensitive clit. 

“Doyoung-Doyoung-” you writhed in his hold before he could slip away from your arms and fall on his knees. 

You’ve gotten head before, but this time, maybe for the overstimulation or your secret feelings for that man, it felt like the first time ever. 

Not knowing what to grab to steady yourself as his tongue danced in circles around your engorged clit, you buried your hands in his hair. His hands pressed into the softness of your thighs just as hard and when he raised his gaze up to look at you from underneath his messy fringe, you felt like falling. 

And you almost fell when he resorted to quick short licks that drove you insane, making you cum for the second time in such a short time to make you lightheaded. 

The single fuck got prolonged as much as the orgasm Doyoung gave you and when he started to kiss your inner thighs, coming up towards you, on your stomach, pressing his wet open lips on your skin until meeting your breasts, you were ready to admit that you were madly in love with him. 

His kiss felt as if you were underwater, unable to breathe and understand space. You felt his arms around you and suddenly you felt weightless and he carried you around until you felt the velvet of the couches underneath you and his body pressed flushed on yours. His waist got automatically wrapped by your legs again as if that were their place and they weren’t aware of it before. 

He slipped his hands on your hips, grabbing your ass hard as he murmured against your lips. “Are you going to be a brat with me again?” 

His voice was calm but deep as if a storm was incoming, making your knees feel weak. 

“Words,” he spoke again, pressing himself a little more between your legs. 

You breathed out. 

“I don’t know,” you managed to say before pushing him away. He fell to the side, grip softened mostly for the surprise than your strength. 

“Are you going to be a brat to me?” you asked, straddling his lap and pressing your palms on his stomach, going up on his hot skin and lifting his shirt until he couldn’t do anything else than take it off. 

Then his hands found their way on your skin too, unmercifully squeezing your soft breasts. He didn’t care to be gentle and lifting himself up he sucked on your skin so hard until it was almost painful. You wrapped your arms around his torso and threw your head back, stretching out your neck. He left bites all over it, travelling down, tightening his teeth grip around your nipples, making you pant softly. 

“I don’t know,” he finally replied. 

He looked at you from underneath his fringe and you smiled at each other. You caressed his stomach from below his belly button and going up until reaching his collarbones and he leaned back on his elbows to support his weight. He followed your hand going down on him then his eyes shifted their focus to watch how your pelvis started to move back and forth on his sweatpants, right on top of his hard cock. 

“Mm,” he exhaled as finally getting some relief and you imitated him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and closed your eyes and Doyoung flexed his thigh muscles. 

He was enjoying seeing you like that, vulnerable and whiny, needy and horny, while he did nothing to help you with it and leaving you desperate. 

His eyes caressed your whole body, his lips parted slightly at the sight of your breasts bouncing softly, at how you were spreading yourself on him. You felt hot and plump, your thoughts were blurry and foggy. 

"Look at you," he talked. “What a cute little slut.” 

You replied with a whine, locking eyes with him but not being able to do that for a long time as his gaze pierced through you, adding to the sensation his pants gave to your raw clit. 

So you kissed his lips, messily and sloppily, breathing on his mouth and he finally caressed your thighs and ass, pressing you down even more and closer to him. 

Your arms got tighter around his neck and he buried his face into your chest. His hair tickled your chin and you intertwined your fingers into his locks. 

So close to cum, you closed your eyes and just let yourself go, your rhythm lost, your muscles aching, without expecting Doyoung's fingers to suddenly get inside of you. 

You squeezed yourself onto him with a cry. 

"I repeat. Are you going to behave again as you did today?" you heard him ask as his fingers pumped fast into you. 

"No, no, oh fuck, please, no," you managed to answer while gasping for air. 

"I'm going to-" you whimpered about to orgasm and Doyoung at that moment got you off of him, pushing you down on your back and lifting your legs around him, edging you. 

"You're going to cum when I say so," he commented. "You're lucky I'm even giving it to you at all today," he added. 

You bit your lower lip frustrated. 

"Babe, please-" you begged. 

He smiled brightly at the sudden pet name, shushing you as he began to kiss your legs from the knees down, going lightly on the inside of your thigh, making you twitch as he approached your dripping pussy. But he passed over, nudging at it with his nose just to make you jolt and kissed your lower stomach, passing his tongue on the spots he bit before and continued until reaching your lips. 

Then, getting on his knees he finally got rid of his pants and underwear. 

You felt your core pulsing at the sight and breathed heavily. He tugged at your legs, dragging you until the back of your thighs touched his hips and holding himself he nudged at your entrance. You let your arms fall around your head and bit down on your hand as his tip caressed your clit. 

"Doyoung," you whined as your muscles jolted intermittently. You then felt his fingers drag on your leg until grabbing your knee and putting it on his shoulders he humped your folds. 

You let your head fall back into the couch, exposing your neck and making your breasts tighten. 

It was too much. You just wanted him to penetrate you and to make you scream. 

"I want to cum so badly, please," you begged again. 

But he acted as if not being able to hear from you. 

Your muscles twitched in pain and you lifted yourself to meet him. He pushed you down and distanced himself. 

"Behave," he warned. 

You looked at his half-closed eyes and plump lips as he bit it with his teeth. 

He was suffering as well. He couldn't take it anymore, you could tell. 

And when you took your hand to your mouth and licked two fingers, slowly, without breaking eye contact he gasped. 

You were about to suck on them, you wanted to see him going crazy, but you didn't manage to as he penetrated you right at that moment, quick and deep, with a grunt. 

"Fuck," he swore picking up the pace until the wet sounds overwhelmed the storm. 

_________

It was dark. The only light came from the fireplace bathing the living room with a red and yellow hue. 

You were both sprawled on the rug under fuzzy blankets. 

"Come sit on my face. Show me where I belong."

Doyoung’s voice was a low buzz, imitating the storm still going on as it has been the whole night. 

You rolled your eyes to the side amused, ignoring his warm hand palming your knee, nudging you to come closer. 

“You still want to go? I can’t cum again,” you pouted. 

“But I want you to cum,” he pouted as well. 

You sighed and gently got on top of him with the intent of ignoring him and finally fall asleep. 

But his expression changed when you were near enough. “I want you to be completely fucked up when I’m done with you.”

You lifted one hand to cup his cheek and kissed his nose. 

He blinked at you amused. 

“I love it when you smile like this,” you whispered. 

The dying flames danced on his face as he stared at you for a few moments. 

Then you clicked your tongue. 

“Don’t do this.” 

“Don’t do what?” 

“Don’t get all dark and distant.” 

Doyoung exhaled. “I am not.” 

“There’s so much to be proud of, don’t you think?” Your fingers gently started to draw patters on his forehead, going down on his eyes as he closed them, then on his cheeks. He opened his eyelids again after the touch and you talked again. 

“Like striving to do good. Trying. Surviving.” 

His lips opened to let out a small puff of warm air. Then he hugged you tighter and hid his face in the crook of your neck. 

You exhaled too, closing your eyes and lulling his exhausted soul. 

“I am so proud of you,” you whispered but you didn’t know if he heard you.

_________

You woke up in Doyoung's bed. 

It was huge, warm and it smelled like his laundry detergent. The sheets were soft and luscious, caressing your naked body as you shifted underneath them to look to the side. 

Your eyelids fluttered and your lips turned their corners up. 

Fighting the urge to squeal and hide your face inside the pillow, you resorted to admire Doyoung's sleeping face. 

Resting on his stomach with raised arms thrown around his head, only his eyes and ruffled hair poked out behind his bicep and shoulder. And when he slowly opened one puffy eye you giggled and it curved, showing that he was smiling too. 

"Good morning," you whispered. 

Doyoung sighed once first. "It's probably afternoon." 

His sleepy voice made your body heat up and without thinking you just got closer. He turned on his side and wrapped your body with his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. 

"Did you sleep well?" he murmured. 

"Like a baby. You exhausted me enough."

The little kiss he placed on top of your head was so unexpected to make you lift your face. 

He smiled. 

"You inspire so much tenderness in me,” he explained timidly. 

You smiled back, resting your chest on his. His hands automatically wrapped your sides as if they've always belonged there. 

"I'm glad I'm softening your edges. Now you need to behave like this with everyone else too."

"You want me to kiss the whole hospital on the forehead?" 

"Metaphorically."

"Also, I thought you loved my hard edges," he purred, shifting your body to fully rest on top of his. 

His hard cock deliciously poked your clit with its tip as his hands slowly made you roll on it. 

You exhaled and leaned down, rubbing your lips on his as you whispered. "I do."  

His smirk was lazy just like your movements. 

"So you want me just like this?" 

“I want you. I want everything you are. I want everything that you hide.” 

Your hands caressed his chest and came to cup his face. His expression wavered and you found him so vulnerable all of a sudden to make your guts twist. 

“Unleash the darkness that you have inside. Engulf me with it. I am not afraid. I want it.”

Doyoung wrapped your body tightly and pressed you down on himself even more. 

"There's no darkness inside of me anymore. Not when you're around me."

__________

From “I will not vanish” - Haechan’s backstory

The heavy door opened and closed. 

Doyoung looked over his shoulder to see a stranger approach him with slow feet. He raised his eyes and gave Doyoung a small nod. 

The other did the same and when the stranger aligned himself with Doyoung, looking over the cold city, they both exhaled. 

The silence was so deep, safe for the ambulances screaming in the distance that Doyoung found himself restless. 

The stranger leaned on the rail, resting his weight on the elbows and sighed again. 

“You know,” he started. 

Doyoung looked at him with the corner of his eyes. 

“What I like about life,” he paused, “is that you can die.” 

The stranger bit his lower lip for a moment then looked over to the other. His gaze felt so heavy that Doyoung’s arms skin got goosebumps. 

“Imagine being immortal,” the man continued before letting out a dry snicker. 

“Around forever. A pathetic being with no reason to exist besides existence itself. Forever and forever and forever. With no purpose. Until you’d beg someone to kill you but they can’t.” 

Doyoung’s fingers twitched on the cold metal of the terrace rail and for a moment his rational mind wanted to ask that stranger just what nonsense he was talking about. 

But lately, Doyoung and rationality didn’t match well so he didn’t. 

“Immortality sucks only if you’re the only immortal one.” 

The stranger smiled bitterly. “Do you want to be immortal?” 

Doyoung put his hands inside the gown’s pockets. “I’d die tomorrow.” 

“But you wish immortality was a thing.” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t have a job anymore,” Doyoung smiled. “But yes. I wish people didn’t die.” 

“You’re very selfish.” 

That remark made Doyoung frown. “How’s that selfish?” 

The stranger turned around and rested his back on the rail instead. 

“Why do you want people to not die?” 

“Because-,” Doyoung started but didn’t know what to add. “Because it’s painful.” 

“For them or you?” 

Doyoung sighed. “Okay. I see what you’re doing here.” 

The stranger smiled a little. 

“It’s not like I think only of myself when others die. I think how unfair it is when I know they didn’t have the chance to do everything they wanted to do first.” 

“And what’s that?” 

Doyoung thought about it for a moment. “Just- living. Experiences. And most of them actually had enough time to do it. They just took it for granted. And it’s so- painful.” 

“And what about you? If you said that you’d be ready to die tomorrow, I guess you’ve been living your life to the fullest with no regrets.” 

“Actually, I don’t know if I’ve been living all of this time.” 

The stranger shrugged. “Just start now.” 

“You make it seem so easy.” 

“Living? Hell yeah. You just need to give less fucks.” 

Doyoung didn’t reply. 

“If you’re ready to die tomorrow, then you should not be afraid of living.” 

The stranger’s tone deepened and Doyoung looked his way. 

“Who are you by the way?” 

“Oh,” the stranger straightened his back and extended his hand. “I’m Haechan. Nice to meet you.” 

Doyoung imitated him and shook his hand. 

It was warm and in a moment so many thoughts came to Doyoung’s mind to make him breathless. 

"I thought I had my life figured out and yet after meeting you I got shocked into awareness."

"You inspire so much tenderness in me."

“I became obsessed with you and it scares me.”

“You could have just told me. You could have told me that you fell apart. Instead, you acted like it didn't bother you at all.” 

“You are worth the wait.”

“I can't let go of you.” 

Doyoung took away his hand so quickly to almost fall backwards. 

He took a few steps on the concrete of the terrace as if trying to get as far from Haechan as possible. 

“You good?” the other asked but his face wasn’t mirroring his question. 

Instead, a plain expression was adorning his feline features and for an instant, Doyoung felt terror.  

“You’re not Haechan,” he found himself whispering. 

The man in front of him cracked his knuckles once. “And who’s Haechan?” 

“My friend.” 

“Friend? Is someone that uses somebody else a friend?” 

“He’s not using me.” 

“Isn’t he now?” 

The man started to walk towards Doyoung slowly, one finger on the rail, grating at the metal with his nail. 

“Do you believe in soulmates, Doyoung?” 

Doyoung flinched at his name on that man’s lips and started to retreat slowly. 

“I do.” 

“Soulmates are people that always find each other regardless of everything, aren’t they?” 

“Yes.” 

“And are you and Y/N soulmates if Haechan is always there forcing you together like some sort of cheap mismatcher?” the man spit out the last words. 

Doyoung gulped and his brain tried to remember how he punched him in some past life and actually win. His surgeon hands would definitely get broken in a second. 

“Don’t you want to break this cycle? Find your true soulmate?” 

“That’s Y/N.” 

“Because you say so.” 

“I don’t give a fuck about your orthodox theory, Archangel.” 

The man stretched his neck to the side and Doyoung didn't have the time to run away.

[wanderinginksplot]

Hiya, I was wondering if I could please request 3 (Echo) with B+O (Injury/sickness recovery + first kiss)? I don’t really mind who’s in recovery or whether it’s 501st echo/bad batch echo, I just thought these prompts would lead nicely into a confession between our two main characters; also I just want to say I love your writing!! ❤️

Aww, thank you so much for the request and for being so kind, Anon! Sorry this took forever, but I’ve been stuck in an idea block for a week or two, and I ended up writing about four different versions of this. You’re very sweet, but you probably shouldn’t be nice to me, because apparently, it makes me write one-shots that are way too long. So here’s a 2700 word one-shot...

Also! It ended up being a tad spicy toward the end. Nothing anywhere close to M-rating, but more than I usually write in one-shots.

Echo + Injury/Sickness Recovery + First Kiss

The first time you met Echo, you didn't like him very much.

You were in the medbay for a sickness that was taking Coruscant by storm, hitting nat-born GAR members especially hard. As a nat-born intelligence officer, you had been ordered to the GAR's main medbay, which had been sub-divided into large bays full of cots. Almost every cot was filled with GAR personnel who needed treatment for the same sickness.

It wouldn't have been bad if you had been able to take the meds right away and start the healing process, but you had been on a dangerous mission and fought the sickness off for longer than you should have. It had worked and you had survived your mission, but you were severely dehydrated. The medics - all clone troopers, by that point - had ordered you to stay until you were fully healed and they could get your fluid levels back where they should have been. Faced with no other options, you had agreed.

And then the 501st had arrived. 

Through your IV, you had gotten through half a bag of a liquid you preferred not to think too hard about. The medics promised that your meds would be kicking in soon, and you would feel much better before the day was over. For the moment, you felt nauseated and every part of your body ached, especially your head.

When the troopers came in, their white armor painted with blue accents in various styles, they were so loud that the rest of the medbay went quiet. 

One of the medics, his hair shaved short to show off a set of intricate tattoos, hurried up to them as he pulled off his gloves. You could hear his hissed question from your bed on the other side of the large room. "What are you idiots doing here?"

One of the men beamed at him. "We're in trouble!"

You scoffed to yourself. You had no difficulty believing they had gotten on someone's bad side. 

The tattooed medic rubbed his temples. "Hardcase… what did you guys do now?"

You had heard stories about the rowdy 501st from other operatives. They were supposed to be a nightmare to work alongside, all explosions and heroics without any grasp of subtlety. 

One of the other men stepped forward and seemed to be offering an explanation, but he did it in a voice pitched low enough that you couldn't hear him. You were grateful for that, and did your best to fall asleep.

It wasn't to be, however, as one of the 501st made his way down the row of beds in your direction. He chatted with some of the other patients, laughing loudly at their responses. By the time he reached you, you could have cheerfully put a blaster to the 5 tattooed on his temple.

"And how are you doing today?" the trooper belted out. 

"In a lot of pain, actually," you snapped at him, a visceral response to the effect his voice had on your roiling stomach. "Can you please talk more quietly?"

There. A please. You were being polite.

"If I'm quiet, does that mean I can stay over here with you, pretty lady?" he asked with a wink, settling onto the foot of your bed.

You eyed him stonily. You felt revolting from the effects of the sickness, and you were wearing a GAR-issued medical gown besides. ‘Pretty’ was an attempt at flattery, and not even a believable one.

"Fives," the medic with the head tattoos admonished, stepping up to your bedside as well. "Stop. She doesn't feel well and she doesn't need you hanging around, making it worse."

"Me?" Fives asked, sounding both shocked and offended. "We both know I only make things better, Kix."

You sighed and wished with your whole soul that they would both go away. You just wanted to sleep.

"Besides," Fives continued, "We were ordered to help in the medbay. You wouldn't want me to disobey orders, would you?"

From the look on Kix's face, he had lined up a scathing retort that you were dying to hear, but you needed to make a brief announcement. "If this conversation continues right here, I am going to vomit."

You had never seen two grown men move so quickly. You would have smiled if you didn't feel so rotten. 

"Echo," Kix called softly with a worried glance in your direction, beckoning yet another trooper over.

This one had no tattoos, but you vaguely recognized him as the only trooper you hadn't been able to overhear earlier.

"Get Fives away from here," Kix ordered. "Keep him productive and occupied, but don't let him talk."

Echo nodded and gave you an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry about him," he said, indicating Fives, who looked deeply offended.

"Please," was the only response you could muster, cradling your head delicately in your hands. From the bit of your peripheral vision that wasn’t blocked by your palms, you watched his shoulders slump slightly as he towed his brother away. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were full of Echo’s disappointed face along with strong feelings of guilt.

The second time you met him was only a few hours later. You were having fever dreams. The medication had apparently worn off and no one had noticed. In your dreams, you had called a medic over a dozen times, but you always woke to find that you hadn’t said a thing, and fell asleep again before you could.

It was one of these shallow, fitful dreams that Echo interrupted. “Hey. Hey! Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Thoroughly confused by the world of the surrounding medbay, you squinted up at him. “Echo?” He nodded and you launched right into the speech you had prepared in your sleep. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I just… my head hurt, and you guys are loud, and-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Echo assured you, crouching by your bedside to put himself on your level. “The 501st - and Fives in particular - is very loud. It’s our best quality.”

You snorted at that and Echo’s kind face broke into a warm smile. “You should get back to sleep. It’s really late. Or early. I’m not sure which, but everyone else is asleep, and you should be, too.”

“I think I need some meds, actually,” you admitted. “I feel like death.”

Echo frowned and reached up to brush his fingers over your forehead, flinching back almost immediately. “Kriff, you’re burning up! Hang on, let me grab a medic for you.”

You nodded, but grabbed his wrist before he could leave, “If you bring me some water, I’ll love you forever.”

It was just a childish hyperbole, something you and your family had said whenever you had asked for a favor, particularly a minor one. Echo didn’t seem to have the same connection with it, based on the way he had frozen in place and was staring at you with wide eyes that flashed between your face and your grip on his wrist.

Clearing your throat, you released him and corrected yourself. “I mean, please? I’m very thirsty.”

Echo turned around a moment later and you sighed, hoping your hot face looked like the flush of a fever.

You were half-drowsing when Echo came back with Kix in tow. You jumped a bit when Kix said your name, and Echo was quick to soothe you. “Easy, easy. It’s just us.”

He handed you the biggest glass of water you had ever seen and retreated halfway across the medbay before you had chugged half of it.

The next day, you were actually feeling better. Granted, ‘better’ was a relative term, but you didn’t actively want to die any more, and that was something. The only thing messing up your day was the lingering awkwardness between you and Echo. Every time his circuit around the room took him past your cot, he would avoid your eyes. 

From your calculations, he looped around the gigantic medbay room every six minutes or so. On his next lap past, you softly asked, “Echo?”

You had meant to be subtle and quiet, but you were still a bit less hydrated than you should have been, and it came out as a horrifying croak. If someone had called your name in that voice, you would have immediately run away, but Echo just turned slightly and looked your direction.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“You already said that,” Echo reminded you gently. “The 501st is loud. I understand why you weren’t happy with us.”

“Not about that,” you forced out, half-wishing you could just let him think you had been delirious with fever and thus not responsible for anything you had said or done. “I mean that I’m sorry for saying the whole love you forever thing. It was a joke, but I feel like it landed poorly.”

“There’s no need, really,” Echo told you. He smiled then, a small sad smile. “We clones don’t get to see much good in the universe. Not with this war going on. Even though you were joking, it was nice to hear something like that.”

You stared at him, trying to keep the poker face the GAR had hired you for.

“Besides,” Echo said with a laugh, “if you want to see how a bad joke really sounds, hang out with Fives for a few minutes. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to see the difference!”

You chuckled at that and the smile he gave lit his whole face as he continued his patrol. You watched Echo leave, thinking hard. It was ironic that this was the conversation where your heart had melted just a touch. It wasn’t love, not yet, but this third exchange left feelings that were inappropriate considering that you had known him for less than a day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, betrayed by all of the napping you had done during the day. Echo was patrolling the room again and noticed you on his fourth lap.

He crouched by your bedside once again. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” you admitted with a sigh. “Can you?”

Echo frowned. “I can, but I’m on watch right now.”

“On watch,” you repeated skeptically. “For what?”

“Someone has to make sure the patients are doing okay while the medics sleep,” he explained. “It’s a very important job.”

“Your brothers are all playing sabacc in the corner,” you pointed out. “Go join them. Or, better yet, get some sleep. I haven’t seen you take a break yet.”

“You were unconscious for over half of the day,” Echo reminded you. “I could have been on break then.”

“You weren’t,” you told him confidently. “Because you wouldn’t have known that I slept the whole time.”

Echo frowned. “You’re too smart to work for the army.”

“Intelligence officer,” you explained simply. 

Lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, Echo leapt to his feet and gave a dramatic salute. You pretended to aim a kick in his direction and you both dissolved into muffled giggles in an attempt not to wake any of the other patients.

“If you won’t try to sleep, at least sit down?” you requested, indicating the foot of your cot as you struggled to sit up so you could move out of his way. “You’re stressing me out. I can’t be expected to get better if I’m stressed.”

“We can’t have that,” Echo teased. He helped you sit up before he did anything else, but the awkwardness of the position left him hauling you up by your armpits. You were thankful that you had found the strength to walk to the sonic shower that day, at least. “Not like I can get sick from you, anyway.”

Echo sat talking with you for hours, even after his brothers had all drifted off at their sabacc table. Before you fell asleep again, he brought you another giant glass of water. You accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded and left so you could get some sleep. By the time you had finished the glass, he was on the other side of the medbay and couldn’t hear you mutter, “Love you forever.”

For the next few days, Echo lived by your bedside. The conversations you had made you laugh so hard that you went into the occasional coughing fit and got the evil eye from Kix. So, you were less pleased than you had expected to be when Kix told you that you could be discharged the following day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Getting your sleep pattern back under control was going to be the biggest struggle, you reflected, staring at the massive beams supporting the ceiling.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Echo teased, walking up. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You waved a hand around dramatically. “I’m trying to commit these beautiful surroundings to memory. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll need to remember the enchanting way the dust clings to that wall over there.”

Suddenly serious, Echo asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

You nodded, and couldn’t tell if it was your imagination, or if he really looked disappointed. Still, he mustered a smile. “I’m glad.”

With a falsely offended gasp, you replied, “You’re glad I’m leaving? That’s rude!”

“No, I mean-!” Echo sputtered, grimacing at you when you started to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting better. Even if you’re just as mean as the day I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” you agreed with a grin. 

“You are not,” he countered immediately. “You’re sweet and funny and- I’ll miss you. Selfish, huh?”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you admitted. “I guess we’re both selfish. But, hey, you’ll finally get some sleep now!”

“I suppose I will,” Echo said with the ghost of his usual smile. “At least we can have one last overnight conversation. Unless you’re too tired?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sit down, Echo.”

The two of you talked for hours that night. The medbay steadily got more silent and your eyes began to ache. Try as you might, you were still recovering from your illness and the point came when you couldn’t fight it off any longer. You fell into a light doze as Echo was talking.

You were dimly aware as he finished his sentence and waited for a response, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything. Echo gave an amused sounding hum and stood from your cot. You immediately missed his warmth, but felt like he was still standing by you.

Soft lips pressed against your forehead and left as Echo started to move away. “What was that cop-out bantha dung?” you asked blearily. 

Echo jumped a bit and stared down at you, but you were half-asleep, impulsive, and you knew what you wanted. You sat up to grab his shoulders and brought him back down to you, kissing him with as much fervor as an extremely tired person could muster.

He kissed you back, opening his mouth to release an almost-soundless groan, and you were suddenly wide awake. With both of you actively participating in your embrace, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to get carried away. 

When you finally broke apart, it was only because someone had cleared their throat sharply. 

Echo pulled back, bracing on his forearms to look up at Kix while you peered at the medic from under Echo’s chest. When had he gotten on top of you? His hip brushed against your upper thigh and you abruptly didn’t care anymore.

“I take it you’re well enough to be released from here?” Kix asked, a raised brow accentuating his smirk. 

You glanced around to find that half of the medbay was awake and staring at you and Echo with expressions ranging from bleary bewilderment to amused approval. Some of Echo’s brothers were awake as well, though their faces ran heavily to outright shock.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready to go home,” you agreed, glancing up at Echo. “Wanna come with me?”

Echo nodded and glanced up at Kix. The medic shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “No, I have no idea where Echo went. He worked several around the chrono shifts and then he disappeared. I assume he went to get some well-deserved rest. Sign here.”

The last part was directed at you and you obligingly scrawled your name on the datapad he was holding out in your direction. 

“Your personal effects are in the front room,” Kix informed you. “Drink some water now and then, would you?”

“Of course, thanks,” you said absently, attention already stolen away by the fascinating blush creeping up Echo’s cheeks. You slipped out from under him and grabbed his hand to tow him behind you. “C’mon. You’re gonna love my apartment.”

---

A/N - ahh, why did this end up being such a novel? Sorry about that! If you want to read similar works, check out my masterlist or make a request based on this post (or make something up and I’ll do my best!). Thanks for reading!

[queen--kenobi]

Pretty When You Cry

First of all, I wanted to say I love all of @jangofctts OCs, the Sunburst Squadron. They’re so perfect, and I’m so glad she let’s us borrow them. 

Pairing: Kami x AFAB!reader, undertones of Fuse x Reader

Word Count: 7.9K

Warnings: 18+ because this gets NASTY. Self-esteem issues, jealousy, light angst, some fluff, light drinking, and smut (PiV, creampie, Dom/sub, orgasm control, bondage, degradation, light nipple play, clothed male/naked female, overstimulation hella fucking dirty talk)

You can’t blame the boys for talking about that Senator.

Stars, she was drop-dead gorgeous. She was a classic type of beauty, the sort of beauty that turned heads no matter what she was doing. Maker, what you wouldn’t give to be even half as beautiful as her. You thought that you had gotten over that part of you, the side that wanted to be seen in the way that she was, but you clearly hadn’t. Honestly? You weren’t sure if you wanted to be or or be with her.

Naturally for several day cycles, she was all the Sunburst Squadron wanted to talk about. You didn’t mind too much at first. It was honestly kind of cute watching them, bickering over which one she clearly had her eye on even though it was probably none of them. You were sure none of them even registered on her radar. She was a Senator, after all. Clones were nothing more than tools in the eyes of people with power.

By about the third day, you were ready to lose it. A small pit of anger and jealousy began to form inside of you. It was small at first. Unfortunately, it was fed almost constantly, steadily growing larger and larger. You shouldn’t be mad at her; she had no real say in this, but Maker. You resented her. It didn’t help that this pit started from fears and anxiety that you thought you had pushed so deep down that they wouldn’t surface ever again. You were a flight mechanic; you weren’t exactly pretty material, much less kriffing gorgeous material. You spent almost all of your time in a ratty jumpsuit that smelled like oil and metal. You kept your hair up to regulation. You never wore make-up because that was against regulation. Besides, it never made sense. You always ended up with a grease streak on your jumpsuit or face. Truth be told, you were probably one of the furthest things from pretty.

The boys are, predictably, talking about the Senator once again on the way back to Coruscant. 

 “I’m not asking if you’d marry her.” Kami points his mealbar at Void in a somewhat threatening manner. Void scoffs, raising an eyebrow. It’s clear that his patience for Kami’s bullshit is running close to thin. “I’m asking if you’d fuck her.”

“I would.” Fuse chimes in. You roll your eyes.

“We all know you would. That’s all you’ve talked about.” You nudge Fuse with your shoulder. He nudges you none-too-gently back. The two of you engage in nudging each other harder and harder with your shoulders for a good several minutes. Vaguely you can hear Bruiser and Jaws weighing in on the topic.

“Stop it.” Void snaps after Fuse hits you a little too hard with his shoulder. Somehow his disapproval seems to be directed at you and not at Fuse. You don’t normally don’t play with them like this, often opting to tease them verbally. Unfortunately, you’re also not one to back down from a challenge. “I don’t need either of you to end up in the medbay.”

“She started it!” Fuse points at you. You scoff.

“You never answered the question.” Kami is still pointing the meal bar at Void. “Would you or would you not fuck that Senator?”

“If I say yes, will that get you to stop?” 

Predictably, the boys go wild. As Kami starts yelling that he called it, you curl in on yourself. You briefly flirt with the idea of going back and hiding in the engine room, but that wouldn’t be good. It would only serve to amplify the feelings of loneliness building inside of you. 

“Hey.” Bruiser’s voice suddenly brings you back to yourself. “You’re a girl, right?”

You have to take a moment to compose yourself. You don’t want to make Bruiser feel like a complete idiot.  Kami and Fuse exchange a look before bursting into snickers. You can see Blue and Void exchange one as well, although theirs looks to be more fondly exasperated.

“Last time I checked, yes.” You look at him. “I assume you want to know my opinion on something female, yeah?”

“Well. Yes, but that wasn’t what I was going to ask.” He studies you for a second. “How come we never see you dressed up like that?”

...Huh.

That wasn’t the question you expected. You feel several sets of eyes on you.

“It’s impractical.” You lean back and shrug. “It takes so long to put on make-up and do my hair and all that. It just. It doesn’t make sense if I’m probably going to get grease or something on my face. You know?”

Bruiser nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“How long can it take?” Fuse grouses. “What, 5 minutes? You just don’t want to.”

That makes you laugh.

“It takes longer than that, trust me.” You snort.

“So you can do it?” He challenges. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Yes. Of course. Why?”

“Do it, then.” Fuse says it as if he’s issuing an ultimatum. 

“I don’t have the things with me to do it now.” You hold up a hand before he can speak. “If you’re willing to wait until we get back, I can do it then.”

“You should come to the 79s if you’re going to get dressed up anyway.” Kami suggests. It takes all of your willpower to not roll your eyes. He’s been constantly trying to get you to go with them for a while now.

“Sure, I’ll go.” You nod. 

***********************************************************************************************************

As you stare at your reflection in the fresher mirror, you wonder just what exactly you were doing. You turn to the side. At least you looked good in the outfit so far. Then again, everyone looked good in lingerie and stockings. You bite down on your lower lip. All you needed to do now was to figure out the rest of the outfit and then your makeup. Thankfully, everyone else in this particular barracks were gone. Most of the civilians who worked enough with GAR to have a place in the civilian barracks were men, so the female barracks were relatively small. The mechanics had been sequestered to their own very small barracks. Not that you minded. You rarely were here with another female-identifying mechanic. The small group was kept on almost constant rotation.

Your comlink chimes, coming through a private chat. You pick it up. It’s Fuse. You rush into the main room and throw on the first thing you find. It’s a large baggy t-shirt that hits your thighs. You had swiped it from an ex and decided that you did want to keep it during the break-up. You answer the incoming call.

“What’s taking so long?” Fuse greets you.

“I had to shower!”

“So did I. I had to fight three other people, and it still took less time than you.” Fuse huffs. “Now let me in.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he would have gotten impatient enough to come by. “I’ll be there in a minute.” You hang up the call and make your way over to the door. You swing it open wide enough to stick your head out. Fuse is leaning against the side.

“What’s the password?”

“Let me in.”

“Ah, you’re missing part of it.”

“Let me in fucking now.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s the right word.”

“I’m not saying please.” You can tell Fuse is getting frustrated, so you step aside and open the door enough for him to slip in. You close the door behind him. 

“It’s been 30 minutes, and you aren’t ev-” Fuse stops abruptly. You look at him. That’s unlike him to stop talking. You raise a questioning eyebrow. Fuse is staring. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s staring at the stocking. The way the giant shirt hit you, the tops of the stockings were visible as well as the straps connecting it to the garter belt. 

“See something you like?” You tease, sauntering past him.

“Kriff yeah I do.” He falls into step beside you. You get back to your bed. You’ve pulled out the two outfits that might be suitable for going to the 79s. Fuse lingers in the doorway for a moment. He shakes his head before stepping inside. 

“I can’t decide.” Your voice comes out more of a whine than you mean it to. Fuse steps behind you. You notice he gets closer than he necessarily needs to as he looks over your shoulder. 

“Does it matter?” He asks after a moment. “You’re going to get it ripped off of you anyway.” He steps back before you can lightly smack him, a shit-eating grin on his face. “What? I’m just calling it like I see it.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You huff, no real venom behind your words. You stare at the two outfits for a second before grabbing one of them. Fuse lets out a low groan when you bend over slightly to pick the outfit up. You try not to laugh. “Stop objectifying me! I don’t do that to you!”

“I wish you would.” Fuse settles himself on your bed now that you’ve cleared some space. His tone is teasing, but something lurks under his words, as if he very much would like you to ogle him. He pauses and then laughs. A sly smirk makes its way onto his face. “I think Void wants you to. Kami sure as shit does.”

You roll your eyes at him. You stand in the fresher doorway for a second.  “I’m gonna go change and then do my makeup. It might be a bit, so if you want to tell them they can go ahead and we’ll catch up, you can.”

Fuse jolts as if you reminded him of something. “Kriff. Yeah, I should do that.”

You snort, slipping into the fresher and shutting the door behind you. It doesn’t take too long for you to switch out of the shirt and into the outfit you picked. The dress looks good on you. It’s one of those slinky black numbers that hugs every curve. You really like it. You can hear Fuse talking. You step back out into the main space. Fuse pauses.

“Look. Just. Make sure everyone goes.I’d be mad if I missed this.” He hangs up quickly before turning to you. His nostrils flare for a second, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. “That’s- Maker. You’ve been holding out on us.”

You snort as you kneel down by the chest at the foot of your bed. You begin fishing out the makeup you have hidden inside of it. “It’s probably a good thing I have. None of you would get anything done.” Your words are cocky, meant to hide your insecurities. Fuse was just saying that as your friend.

“Oh, you wearing that would double Void’s work. But I don’t think he’d be mad.” Fuse shifts. You place your makeup on the end of the bed and close the chest. You’d also brought out a small mirror. You settle yourself more comfortably and begin applying your makeup. To your surprise, Fuse watches you with rapt attention.

“You do realize that you’re absolutely being put on the side of the ship now?” You pause. It takes all of your willpower to not blink as you wait for the upper eyeliner to dry. “Kami has been wanting to put up a pin-up girl. It’s going to happen now.”

“Don’t tease me.” You say after a moment. You turn and begin applying eyeliner to the other eye.

“I’m not. I want it to happen. If Kami doesn’t do it, I’m going to.” You try to ignore Fuse’s words. You finish the eyeliner and move onto the next part. “We’re so lucky that you didn’t decide to become a maneater.”

You give Fuse a look. “I appreciate you trying to hype me up, but you don’t need to lie.”

“Hey. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He actually looks hurt for a second. “Maybe others. Definitely others. Not you.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Instead, you blink. Your eyes begin to water. 

“I swear, Fuse, if you make me cry, and this gets ruined...”

“If you cry, I’m leaving. This is taking too long as it is.”

****************************************************************************************************

You’re glad that Fuse is the one that stopped by. By the time the two of you are headed to the 79s, you’re feeling way less self-conscious and far more at ease in your skin. It helps that Fuse clearly can’t keep his eyes off of you for too long. When the two of you are in front of the 79s, you feel amazing about yourself. The two of you are bickering over something stupid when you walk up to the building.  There’s clearly a crowd inside. Fuse stops you by grabbing your shoulder.

“What?” You frown at him. He holds up a hand.

“Kami is right there. I wanna see his face when he sees you.” Fuse steps in front of you and walks several paces. He makes you get behind him before he waves Kami over. You can see a flash of red hair as Kami makes his way towards the two of you.

“What took you so. Long.” Kami stops once Fuse steps to the side. He stares at you for a moment. 

“I told you no one would want to miss it.” Fuse nearly crows. Kami ignores him, stepping past his brother to get closer to you. 

“Hi.” You smile at him. Kami’s eyes are dark.

“I hope that makeup is smudge proof. It’d be a real shame to ruin all of that hard work.” Kami’s voice drops an octave, as if he would like to be the one that undoes all of your hard work. He reaches out for a second, as if he’s going to take a hold of your chin. Fuse loudly clears his throat. Kami whirls around and gives Fuse what you can only assume is a death glare. Fuse just smiles widely in return. 

“Come on.” Fuse nods his head towards the door. “Let’s go!” He waits for you to start moving before he does.Kami lingers behind the two of you for a brief moment. When he moves and catches up with the two of you, he falls into stride with you.

“How many free drinks do you think you’re going to get?” He teasingly murmurs in your ear. You scoff.

“I honestly doubt that will happen.” You fire back.

“Confident enough to bet on it?” He grins, a sly grin that makes your stomach do a pleasant flip-flop.

“What are we betting?” You fire back.

“What are you willing to bet?” His tone holds a dark promise.

“You sound like you want to bet something that’s not credits.” You’re giving him room to define it on purpose.

“You think no one is going to send you a drink?” He sounds contemplative, as if he’s weighing the potential bet options.

“I might get one.” You conceded. A smirk makes its way onto Kami’s face. 

“I can work with that. If you get more than one free drink, I win.” Fuse has reached the doors. You give Kami a skeptical look.

“Win what?”

“I haven’t decided what I want yet.” His voice drops an octave, sending a shiver up your spine. 

“I feel like this might be a mistake, but. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Are you two done yet? Or do you need a minute?” Fuse huffs. You smile at Fuse.

“Sorry.” You tell him. He grumbles as he swings the doors open. The three of you file into the club.

You knew that you wouldn’t turn everyone’s head there. You didn’t even expect to turn more than maybe five or six. You turn more heads than that as the three of you shuffle through the crowd to the tables the boys have claimed as their own. Fuck. Kami might actually win.

When you get to the table, Bruiser and Blanche are bickering over something unimportant. It’s a very heated bickering session. Blue and Void are talking quietly with Void’s eyes occasionally flicking to the clock to check the time. Sweets is on one end of the booth and Jaws is on the other. When Sweets sees you, his eyes go wide. He quickly pats Bruiser on the shoulder several times before looking down at the table. Bruiser looks at him and opens his mouth to ask what exactly Sweets wants.

Bruiser’s mouth hangs open for a second. He stares at you for a moment, mouth slightly open. Blue sighs and pushes Bruiser’s chin up in an attempt to get him to shut his mouth. You cover your mouth to muffle your laughter. Fuse looks positively delighted. You notice Kami presses a little bit closer to you. Bruiser’s reaction prompts the rest of the table to slowly look in your direction one by one.

Blanche’s eyes darken considerably. He takes you in for a long moment, eyes never leaving you. Blue at least tries to keep his eyes trained on your face, but he’s not very successful at it. Jaws makes a low noise of approval, not quite a whistle but not not a whistle. Sweet still hasn’t looked up from the table. Void’s eyes darken even more than Blanche’s, and you can see his chest heave for a second as he takes you in. It doesn’t escape your notice that Kami moves even closer to you when he sees Void’s reaction.

“Scoot.” Fuse demands, pushing at Jaws. That breaks the spell.

“I’d ask if you came here often, but I already know the answer.” Jaws stands up. Fuse eagerly tries to take his seat, but Jaws throws an arm out in front of him. You have to stifle a giggle as you skirt past Jaws.

“Thanks.” You smile at him, resist the urge to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Anytime.” He responds. “You look. Wow.” 

You can feel your face heat up. You slide into the seat. Fuse tries to follow right behind, only to get stopped by both Jaws and Kami. All three of them look at each other.

“It’s my seat.”

“Yeah, and I challenged her.”

“It was my idea to come here.”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. You hear a soft, world-weary sigh, and turn to your right. Void is sitting there, and he looks as if he’s got the beginnings of a headache coming on. Fuse apparently has had enough and tries to vault the corner of the table, but Bruiser grabs his wrist before he can. In any other situation, the pandemonium would be funny. Blanche steps in. 

“Fuse. Kami. It’s Jaws’ seat. We’ll scoot to fit both of you.” Blanche looks at the table, trying to do the math as to whether or not they could fit all of you. 

“We can fit everybody.” You assure Blanche. “Worst comes to worst, I can stand.”

“No.” Several of them say in unison. 

“You’re not standing after that fight.” Blanche informs you. 

“What do you want to do then? I’m not going to make anyone else stand. If I don’t, then someone is going to have to get another chair or sit on someone else’s lap.” The words are out of your mouth before you can think about them. Several sets of eyes turn to you. Bruiser suddenly finds the ceiling as interesting as Sweets finds the table. Kami gets a downright pleased smirk on his face. Fuse snickers.

“We should get a chair.” Blanche’s voice is a little strangled.

“Hang on. I want to see where this goes.” Fuse  gives you a devious grin. “Who’s lap were you thinking of sitting on?”

“Why? Do you want me to sit on yours? You challenge. Fuse shakes his head.

“I think it should be Kami.” Everyone looks at him with surprise. “What? They made a bet, and it would help Kami keep her honest.”

“Just get a chair.” Void sounds slightly irritated. You stare at Kami.

“No. I’ll sit on Kami’s lap.” You speak up. Kami looks positively delighted at this turn of events. There’s several minutes of shuffling around before all of you get arranged. Fuse scoots in next to Blue, and Kami next to Fuse. You end up perched on Kami’s thigh, while Jaws takes the opening beside Sweets. You have to keep one hand on the back of Kami’s neck to keep your balance. He places a hand on your hip as if he’s trying to keep you from falling. You know better. 

The conversation begins again, although it’s a little stilted at first. You can feel Kami’s gaze flitting to you often. It’s a little hard to concentrate while Kami’s doing that. Someone, you aren’t sure who, brings up the topic of drinks, and there’s a brief squabble over who should go get them. You huff in amusement. A droid passes by, and, much to your surprise, places a drink in front of you. The bright colors seem even brighter in the low lighting. You look to the droid, curious. 

“That’s one.” Kami murmurs to you. You look around the room, and someone in another corner tips his head in your direction. Your cheeks heat up some. You really weren’t expecting that. You take a long sip of it.

“I feel like I should thank him.” You respond.

“You should get the drinks.” Bruiser voices. You look at him. “What? You’re saving credits if people are sending you free ones.”

“He does have a point.” Fuse grins. 

“I- Fine. I’ll do it.” You collect all their orders before motioning over a droid. All of the boys seem delighted that you agreed to do this. Kami squeezes your hip lightly.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, but the tone he uses is mocking. You have to resist the urge to glare at him. Despite yourself, you shift in a subtle attempt to bring your thighs a little closer together. Something about the way he said it made a small flare of arousal curl in you.

“What were you and Blanche arguing about?” You decide to ask Bruiser to distract yourself. Bruiser launches into the argument, which starts another squabble. Fuse doesn’t help, adding fuel to the fire with little comments here and there. It’s amusing to watch.

“Are you okay?” You lean back a little to talk to Kami. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“I’m fine.” As if to prove his point, he lightly bounces his leg. The motion nearly makes you squeak. He can easily play it off as showing he can lift you with his leg alone, but you know better. You try to give him a stern look, but you can’t. The devious grin on his face makes your heart beat faster.

“You know,” Kami brushes a stray piece of hair away from the column of your neck, “You look really good night. Hoping to catch someone’s attention?” The mocking tone is back at those last words. You take a deep breath, resisting the urge to splutter. 

“No?” You clear your throat. “I just felt like looking nice.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He hisses. You didn’t notice how close he’s gotten to your ear, his lips nearly centimeters away.  “I know you. You wanted some attention. You’re so desperate, you know that?”

Fuck, his words should not be doing what they are to you. The flare of arousal gets strong, starting to spread into your veins. 

“I’m not.” You deny, taking a long swig from your drink. The drinks are brought to the table, each member of the squad eagerly claiming theirs. 

“Oh? So if I were to do this,” He bounces his leg again. You have to place a hand on the table to steady yourself, “It wouldn’t do anything at all to you?”

His condescending tone should not be doing what it is to you. 

“Kami.” Your voice comes out a little more breathy than you intended. 

“Aaawww, what’s the matter?” He repeats the motion. With the way you’re sitting, you don’t get any friction on your clit, but it does rub nicely along your folds. You bite down hard on your lower lip. You try to ignore him and tune back into the conversation, but he clearly wants you to pay attention to him. The hand on your hip tightens a little bit. 

“I was serious about the smudge proof makeup.” He places his chin on your shoulder as if he’s trying to get a better look at Bruiser as the other man speaks. Maker, he seems to be intent on being the death of you. “Do you know what those heels do for your ass?”

“Kamikaze.” You hiss. A slow grin makes its way onto his face. Another ‘thunk’. You look up. No. No way. Your eyes widen. That makes Kami’s grin turn downright feral.

“I win.” He sounds so smug about it.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret making that bet.”

“No, I think you’re going to enjoy it. Now drink up. You shouldn’t let it go to waste.” You can’t help but doing what he said. You try to ignore the way he’s rubbing circles on your hip with the pad of his thumb. You distract yourself by engaging in the conversation. You and Fuse play off of each other, making the debate turn even more wild. Even Jaws weigh in at one point. Kami does as well, clearly trying to hide the fact that he’s slowly working you up with some choice words and motions. At one point, he plucks at the top of your strapless dress under the guise of getting a speck of dust off of you. Maker. You hate him.

What does you in is when he places his hand on your thigh. The motion is surpetious. He slowly moves it up under the hem of your dress until his fingers reach the top of your stockings. 

“I think.” The condescending tone is in full force. “I’m ready to collect on my winnings.” 

You can’t contain the shaky exhale. You shift, your thighs now firmly squeezed together.

“Act like you’re going to go to the bar to settle up. I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.”

You slip out of the booth on shaky legs without a second thought.

*********************************************************************************************************

Fuck, Kami is a good kisser. The minute you’re in your barracks, he’s on you. One of his hands cradles your face. His kiss is anything but tender. He kisses you like he wants to devour you, take everything he can from you and then some. It stokes the already light fire in you. He pushes you backward, his lips never leaving yours. You can’t help the small whimper that escapes you when he grabs your ass just as he nips your lower lip. Your fingers go to his chest to brace yourself. He pulls away.

“Did I say you could touch me?” He asks. He lightly shoves you by your shoulders, and you fall down neatly onto your bed. You sit up on your elbows.

“No, sir.” Your voice is already breathy and high. Oh shit. You didn’t mean for that last part to come out. Kami’s eyes darken.

“Say it again.” He steps towards you.

“No, sir.” Your chest heaves. He lets out a low groan.

“I knew you were a little slut.” You have to bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from whimpering. He looks so pleased with himself. His eyes dart to the trunk at the end of your bed. 

“I bet you have all kinds of fun things in there.” He idly remarks as he goes over to it. “Maybe some handcuffs or a toy or two?”

You shake your head. “I don’t like how handcuffs feel or rope.” Your voice is quiet. He tilts his head.

“Shame. I guess I’ll just have to hold you down with my hands.” 

“There’s some. Ribbon.” You lightly suggest. He pauses. Slowly, he kneels down in front of the trunk.

“I do like the idea of you wrapped up like a present...” Kami opens it. You watch him with baited breath. He pulls out several lengths of ribbon as well the bullet vibe you keep well-hidden. This time your breath stutters. The look on his face is arousing but tells you you’re in for a long night.

“Hands on the railing.” He orders. You grip it tightly. He closes the trunk and gets up on the bed. He crawls up the bed, along your body. Maker, you were in for a long night. The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together. Kami, of course, notices.

“Aaaw. Is my little slut impatient?” He coos with mock sympathy. Your breath is coming in short gasps. “You are mine for tonight, you know that? No one else’s. I plan to ruin you for anyone else.”

“Kami.” You whine. By this point he’s traveled the length of your body, his face inches from yours.

“Try again.”

“Sir.”

“There we go.” He licks a long stripe from the base of your throat to your earlobe. You tilt your head on instinct, baring your throat to him. He nips the shell of your earlobe, and you do whimper this time. “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already squirming. Wonder what will happen once I get my hands on you for real.”

Your chest rises and falls shallowly. Kami sits back on his heels. He begins tying the ribbon around your wrists. It’s not strong enough that you feel as if you can’t get out if you need to but not weak enough that you’ll break it. You keep your hand on the headboard just in case. He sits back again once he’s tied your wrists to the head board and examines you. 

“I think I like you like this. Helpless. A good little slut at my mercy.” He moves down to your legs. He roughly nudges your legs, and you let them fall apart naturally. “Maker, you are a good little slut.” He begins working on tying your ankles to the footboard. You watch him through hooded eyes. “Surprised you don’t have a spreader bar.”

“That was too expen- Ow!” Kami lightly slaps your inner thigh.

“No mouthing off.” He warns. He finishes tying your legs and then sits back on his haunches again. “Fuck, you are... You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, to see what you’re really like. How desperate you are.” He leans forward and takes the top of the strapless dress in his hands. He yanks the material down so it bunches at your midriff. You naturally arch your chest. His eyes get darker. `No bra? You really do want to get fucked so hard you can’t think.” He leans forward again. His breath fans across your ear. He lightly traces the outer shell of your ear with his tongue. “Don’t worry. I’ll give my slut what she wants. I’m not going to stop until you’re cockdumb, until all you can do is beg for me. Then I’ll give you my cock.”

The whine that leaves you would be embarrassing in any other situation. Kami trails kisses down from your jaw to your collarbone. He props himself up on one arm, his body so close to yours but not touching you. His free hand cups one tit, just running his fingers along it. His circles move up some and become tighter and tighter. Your head lolls to the side.

“I wonder. How sensitive are you here?” His fingers lightly skim over your nipple. You jerk slightly. He laughs softly. His fingers come back, this time tracing a circle around the already hardening flesh. “Very, huh? Mmmhhhmmm, maybe one day I’ll tie you up like this and just play with them. See how sensitive you really are.” He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You arch your chest, trying to press more into his touch. He kisses along the bottom of your throat, lightly scraping his teeth over the soft skin. He pinches. You can’t help the sharp gasp. “You’re already so worked up. It must have been a while since my little slut has gotten fucked like she should be.”

“Kami. Don’t tease.” Your voice comes out a whine.

“Why not? I might not get the chance again. I want you squirming and crying. I want you to never be able to forget this, to forget me.” He lowers his body so he’s finally draped over you. The contact feels good, him pressing you down into the mattress. He alternates between rolling and pinching. It’s got you arching your chest, almost as if you’re presenting it to him. Your hips roll too as you seek some kind of friction. Kami begins moving again. He trails his kisses from the base of your throat to your collarbone and then to the soft flesh of your breasts. He pauses to suck a dark mark into the skin.

“Maker.” You gasp. He switches the arm that’s propping him up so he can move to your other breasts, teasing you. 

“Aaawww, poor girl. Already moaning, and I haven’t even put my mouth where you want it.” He sucks another dark mark. Finally, he moves his mouth to your nipple. Yo uarch against your bonds as he circles it with his tongue. His other hand moves to your other nipple at the same time, rolling it between his fingers. You moan and gasp when he seals his mouth around your nipple. You can’t help looking down at him. His eyes are trained on your face, and oh. That shouldn’t be as hot as it is. He then takes your nipple lightly between his teeth and runs his tongue across it. 

“Oh, fuck.” Your head falls back. You’re helpless to do anything but squirm. He pulls away from the abused flesh with a sinful ‘pop’. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.” A surge of pride goes through you at how he’s starting to sound a little wrecked. “The moment I saw you I wanted to bend you over the nearest surface. Every time you ran your mouth, I wanted to wreck you. I’ve wanted nothing more to turn you into a whimpering mess.”

His comment fires something deep within you up. “Then do it.” You challenge. Kami’s eyes go almost comically wide before a gleeful expression settles over it.

“You have no idea what you’re asking, do you? I’m going to ruin you until all you can do is take what I give you.” His words are a dark promise.

“Are you going to do it or is this just lip serv-” He surges forward and kisses you hard. He gives you no quarter, no room to move. All you can do is lose yourself in him. Your hands jerk in their bonds. You want nothing more than to touch him, to run your hands all over him and memorize the planes of his body. When he pulls away, his lips are red and kiss-bruised. To your surprise, one of his hands rests on your cheek. 

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you want this as bad as I do.” His voice holds an odd note of vulnerability. You nod. “Say it. I need you to say it.”

“I want this. Just as bad as you do.” You murmur. He gives you a cocky grin. Then, his mouth is on your other nipple, giving it the same rough treatment as the other. You let yourself get lost in the sensation, letting every whimper and moan and little noise escape you. They seem to spur him on. You want to clench your thighs together to get some form of relief, but you can’t. He pulls away and begins moving down your body, from the valley between your breast and down your stomach. As he does so, he flips the hem of your dress up. When he pulls away, he lets out a low groan at the sight of your thong framed by your garter belt.

“It’s like you wanted someone to ruin you.” He takes the elastic of one of the straps and snaps it against your skin. You yelp, and he just grins at you. “You really are so desperate.” Kami moves his hand to your core, resting it on top of your thong. He lets out a low curse. “You’re dripping already.”

He reaches over to the side. Your eyes widen when you see he’s got the bullet vibe in his hand. He scoots down the bed. “Gotta get you nice and prepped for me.” He teases, a cocky smirk on his face. That should not look so good between your thighs. The noise that leaves you when he turns the vibrator on and presses it against your clit is nearly punched out of you. The fabric of the thong is in the way, so the vibrations are muted, but it still feels so good since you’ve been denied that friction for so long. You jerk your hips up. He stops you by placing a forearm over your lower stomach.

Kami kisses your inner thigh, slowly moving his way up towards your center. He sucks several hickies into the skin. He also moves the vibrator occasionally, not letting you get used to the sensations. The crescendo in you is building, but it’s not nearly building fast enough. He seems to sense this and stops his ministrations for a moment. His eyes are nearly blown out as he looks at you.

“Don’t cum. Don’t you cum until I tell you to.” You nod. “No. I need to hear you say it.”

“I won’t cum until you tell me to.” He grins.

“That’s my good slut.” He moves onto your other thigh. You have to take deep breaths. You don’t know how long he’s going to make you wait. Your thighs begin to tremble. He groans softly into your skin. He sets the vibe aside. Slowly, Kami turns his attention to your dripping center. He pushes the thong aside and curses.

“Fuck. It must have been so long since anyone has touched this pussy. Look at you clench around nothing. You’re so needy.” You want to tell him to shut up. Before you can, he runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit to your clit. Your thighs shake. You feel tears well up in your eyes. He grins.

“That’s it.” He mockingly coos. “I bet you look so pretty when you cry.” Any retort dies in your throat as he seals his mouth around your clit. The arm on your hips prevents you from bucking them. His free hand goes to your ass and squeezes. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your thighs tremble. Every flick of his tongue, every time he sucks on your clit, you get closer and closer to that peak. The tears are threatening to spill now.

“Kami.” You can feel the coil in your core stretching tight. “Kami. Stop. I can’t...”

Slowly, he pulls away. “Aaawww, is it too much already?” You shake your head.

“Was gonna cum.” You pant. Your chest heaves. “Told me not to.”

A range of emotions flit across his face. To your surprise, he surges forward and claims your lips with his own. You can taste yourself on him, and you moan into the open mouth kiss. 

“So obedient.” You don’t know how he can manage to sound so mocking while his voice is so ragged. “My good little slut. Needy little slut. Perfect little slut. You just want someone to call you their good girl, don’t you?”

That makes you keen.

“Yeah? How can you be a good girl when you’re this needy? Huh?”

“Kami.” You drag out the last letter. He chuckles.

“I think you like being my slut, though. I think that you just want to pretend you’re a good girl.” A hand goes to your throat and lightly rests over it. Your eyes flutter shut. He places a quick kiss on your lips before moving back down to your pussy. He devours you like a man starved. You don’t think there’s an inch of you he doesn’t taste. You shake and tremble. When he slips a finger inside of you, the tears finally start. One trickles down your face, but it’s so joined by another. Kami eyes flit to your face. He groans. The vibrations cause you to jerk, chasing that feeling.

“I was right. You’re pretty when you cry.” That prompts a broken sob from you. He lets out a noise that is addictive. You want to hear him make it again. You feel him move, hear the sheets rustle. To your surprise, he unties one ankle and then the other. When he moves up your body to your wrists, you look at him with wide eyes.

“No touching.” He warns. He undoes the ribbon. You keep your hands in place. “Flip over. I want to see that ass.”

You do as he commands, flipping over onto your hands and knees. Kami moves back behind you and groans. To your surprise, he grabs a pillow. He pushes you down, much more gently than you thought he would. You end up flat on your stomach. He slips the pillow under your hips. Kami moves your thighs apart so he can settle in between them.You hear rustling, and when he presses against you, you realize he’s pulled his blacks down enough to free his cock. He runs his fingers through your folds, and it’s so hard to not cant your hips back. You look over your shoulder. Your mouth waters. He uses your wetness to coat his dick. He gives you a lopsided grin before slotting his hips against your ass. When the head of his cock grazes against your center, you bury your head and moan. He ‘tsk’s you.

“Wanna hear you.” He warns. Slowly, he eases himself into you. The stretch is toe curling. Your feet, still in the heels, search for purchase. It feels as if he’s going to split you in two. You whine in the back of your throat. Maker, he feels so good. Finally, he’s seated all the way inside of you. You breath shallowly. Your legs tremble, and you’re fighting to keep yourself from cumming. Kami has to know from the way your walls clench and flutter around him. He leans forward, his hands going to your hips. His whole body is draped over yours. His mouth rests right by your ear.

“Good girl.” This hissed praise is the most condescending yet. It tips you over the edge. You can’t help it. The visceral moan is ripped so hard from your throat it’s almost a scream. Your body goes taut. When it releases, you shake so hard that it feels as if your muscles are going to seize. You feel tears starting to stream down your face again. You buck your hips, and Kami’s grip tightens on you. He thrusts shallowly as you ride out your orgasm. You come down, gasping for air.

Kami swears in a language you don’t understand once you’ve stopped trembling. “Greedy slut.” He manages. His tone indicates how fucking hot he found that. If that didn’t tell you, the way he starts to thrust into you does. It’s not long before he starts a punishing and brutal pace. Your hands uselessly dig into the sheets. 

“So fucking. Needy. Couldn’t wait for me to, fuck, move. Came on my cock as soon as I was all the way in you.” He pants. His head drops between your shoulder blade, even as his hips piston him in and out of you. “Fuck. You’re so tight. You want me to call you that again? Oh shit. I felt that. Wanna make you do it again.”

You whimper and moan, rolling your hips back to meet his. You can feel another one building, this one sharper. You want it. You welcome it. You nod.

“Your needy slut.” You nearly slur. “Just for you.”

Kami lets out a wild laugh. It’s not dark but pleased, as if nothing delights him more. One of his hands lets go of your hips and digs into your hair. He lifts your head up, yanking your hair. You’re forced to crank your head back to look at him. 

‘You’re my little cockslut, aren’t you?” You nod frantically.

“Yours. Just yours.” The tears are back. You’re sure your makeup is ruined, mascara and eyeliner long gone and streaking your face. He moves with wild abandon, eyes glittering.

“Gonna count you down. Gonna cum together.” He pants. You nod. He reaches around and begins rubbing tight circles around your clit. “!0, oh fuck. 9. 8. 7. You’re so fucking tight Maker, 6. That’s it. I can feel your thighs trembling. You want another one. 5. 4. Shit. 3. I’m gonna cum so hard in you. 2. 1.” Kami manages to muster up enough strength to use the same tone that sent you over the edge. “Be my good girl, my good little slut, and cum for me.”

This time you do scream. You can hear Kami making all kinds of wild noises as he finishes. He bites down on your shoulder as you shudder under him. He eventually collapses onto you, pinning you down. You don’t mind. The weight of his body is comforting as you come down.  The two of you stay like that for a long minute. You feel him move and groan. You give him a questioning look over your shoulder. He takes a hold of one of your hands and interlaces your fingers.

“Holy shit.” He breathes into the crook of your neck. “I’ve never had anyone do that before.”

“I’ve never done it before.” Your voice is hoarse, almost gone. Kami chuckles, this one light-hearted. He presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“You’re pretty all the time.” You nearly miss his words he speaks so softly.. “Don’t need to dress up to get my attention.”

“Kami, I-” You swallow hard and look back at him. “I wasn’t- Fuck. You’ve always had my attention too.”

“Of course you did. I’ve got everyone’s attention.”

“No, I mean. Do you. I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “I mean. Fuck. Is it weird to ask you out after the best sex of my life?”

“Nah. It’s the perfect time.” He gives you a lopsided grin. “Besides. I’m not letting you go. I told you. I wanted to ruin you for anyone else.”

“So you want me to be your slut all the time?” You tease. You don’t miss the way his eyes darken.

“Oh. I think you already are.”

[mageofseven]

Hi I just recently discovered your blog and I’m in love with your writing! I have a little request if you don’t mind. The brothers (and undateables I’d you want to) finding MC bruised and beaten and later discovering they got into a fight with another demon. Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!

Awww thank you so much! I might end up doing the Undateables in another post, but I'll just stick to the Brothers for this one.

And thanks for requesting 😊

TWs: violence, vague s*xual assault

Spoiler warning: 1st year spoilers in Lucifer's and vaguely in Belphie's section

~

Lucifer:

Was checking out the area under Diavolo's orders.

Apparently there have been some people sneaking around in the old Colosseum and normal methods to keep other demons away from the historical landmark have been futile.

That and word has made it's way that some criminals have been using the place to secretly make dealings

So when he got there, he had expected to find some such people lurking around

Instead he found MC on the ground in the center, bruised and bleeding with their arm bent in a very concerning way.

He rushed up to them, calling their name and checking them for signs of life.

Honestly, the man was having major flashbacks to the day he lost his sister.

This was exactly where Lilith fell and Lucifer had to watch his sister, all broken and in pain until Diavolo came and he had to make the deal that changed everything

The deal that eventually led to MC's existence

Yet here they were now, in exactly the same place and state and the demon couldn't help but break down for a minute with panic he tried so hard to conceal.

The human let out a groan and the man could only sigh in relief.

"MC, oh thank the Devil..."

"Luce...?"

"You'll be alright." He promised. "I'll take you over to have Simeon heal you."

Despite the internal panic and flashbacks of such a traumatic event, he still handled the situation well.

Once MC was all healed up, he asked them what happened.

Apparently, they found a note that someone had stuffed in their school bag, asking for them to meet at the Colosseum.

They thought it was weird, but curiosity had gotten the better of them so they went and were attacked while exploring the ancient building.

The demon had meant to kill her, but sensed Lucifer approaching so they dropped the human and ran for it.

Ends up getting as much info from them about the attacker as he can.

Even if MC doesn't want the demon to die for what they did, they get no say in the matter.

Because of their status as exchange student, this attack is a political issue and the consequences Lord Diavolo warned his people about originally must be put into play.

Politics aside though, Lucifer would never let any being who hurt MC get away with it.

Becomes a lot stricter with what they can and cannot do

Like, they're not even allowed to go for a walk around the block without either him or his brothers accompanying them.

Even changes up their class schedule to make sure they have at least one of his brothers with them per class and they even have to walk MC to their next one.

Any arguments about this from MC or the brothers fall on deaf ears.

He will never let anyone lay a hand on them again.

Mammon:

School day had ended and he was on his way to pick MC up from their class.

Since Lucifer decided the day they came that he was responsible for their safety, he always had to do stuff like this.

He was late today though since his teacher held him back after class.

Blah blah F on the test, blahh blah summer school, blaah blahh blaaaah. Whatever man; he wasn't listening

And because of them, he was late. So much so that when he arrived at the human's classroom, they weren't there.

Lowkey panicked.

Shit. Shit shit shit, where'd they go???

Practically runs in the halls trying to find them

Knows Lucifer will have his head for this if he can't track 'em down.

Ends up hearing some kind of ruckus in the courtyard

And finds a big group of students forming a circle and chanting "Fight!"

"Oh yell!" Is momentarily distracted from his problem and joins the group. "Fight! Fight! Fight--."

Oh shit. That's his human in the circle!

Mammon's brain just started buffering as he watched MC dodge and weave, even getting some good hits in. The second brother was actually pretty impressed.

The lower demon in the fight eventually lost his footing and fell to the ground, giving an opening for MC to give a big kick between his legs and the demon let out a shrill scream. His green skin started smoking and changed to grey as it hardened and suddenly seemed more like stone than a person.

The circle of students started cheering and Mammon's jaw practically hit the floor.

Holy shit, the human did it!

MC fell the ground, panting heavily and bruised from head to toe.

Mammon finally rushed up to them.

"Damn, MC! You're gonna give me a heart attack!"

All of a sudden, some students started running and others just quickly jumped back, revealing Lucifer and Diavolo.

....yep, he's dead.

The two older demons started asking MC questions as they caught their breath and Mammon tried to sneak away.

Lucifer grabbed his brother by his jacket, but otherwise paid him no mind as MC told their tale.

Apparently this demon that sits behind them in their Devildom History class had been giving them crap for a while; calling them names and pushing them around. Today they even started touching them in places that made them wanna break the demon's hand.

MC snapped and told them such. The demon only grinned. Honestly, he was probably waiting for them to say that.

From there, he dragged them out by their hair and the rest is rather obvious.

Diavolo had some of his men carry the demon away. Apparently, the stone-like skin is defense mechanism, essentially the equivalent of a turtle hiding in their shells for that sub-race of demon.

The prince assured MC that the demon will be dealt with and tasked Lucifer with getting them healed up.

Mammon was hung upside down from the roof for a few hours for letting this happen, but MC was patched up and okay in the end.

Leviathan:

He usually buys all of his otaku stuff off of Akuzon

But occasionally, he likes to go out and by manga at this store downtown.

It's a once in a blue moon sort of thing, but he still does it

MC felt like taking a walk so they joined him

The two explored the shop as Levi fanboyed about seemingly every other series he passed.

The otaku had already started a pile of manga he planned to buy.

He didn't even notice when MC left his side until he approached the counter to pay

Boy just assumes you bailed on him at first and sinks into self-loathing mode

Until he heard a scream from outside.

He abandoned his manga and raced out, just in time to see another demon run for it and MC leaning against the building.

Their right arm was bleeding from the holes and claw marks made into it.

The third brother started freaking out and rushed them home, even leaving his books there.

When they get back, Lucifer patches them up with a first aid kit and a little bit of a potion.

MC explains how they were shopping with Levi when all of a sudden they saw Beel outside the store waving at them

She went out to talk to him, but then suddenly, it wasn't Beel anymore.

Apparently, it was a shapeshifting demon and, since they specifically choose Beel's form to take, Lucifer assumed that they must have been watching them for a while and planning this attack. They likely chose Beel because they knew he was someone MC would let their guard around.

Levi felt like crap for letting them get hurt, but MC said it was their fault for being tricked.

Lucifer decided it was both their faults and gave them both a long lecture

Satan:

The fourth brother invited MC out for coffee

The blonde actually really likes the atmosphere of coffee shops and wanted to share it with them

The two ordered their coffee and sat at their table while talking about books. He recently read a book on artic fauna from the human world and was comparing the information he read with their own knowledge

It was a very relaxing experience like most of MC's quality with Satan.

Before the two of left, MC had to stop in the restroom.

That demon waited patiently for the human at their table, but when almost ten minutes went by, he became a bit annoyed and puzzled.

Not wanting to be rude, but also ready to leave, Satan approached the bathroom door

He paused mid knock when her heard a low growl followed by a cry from MC

Now in his demon form, the blonde kicked the door off its hinges. It wasn't locked or anything, but the man was super pissed.

Found a demon pressing MC, who had a gash in their head, against the opposite wall

'An eye for an eye' is more or less the philosophy he followed here, or rather, a head for a head.

He took the demon and slammed his head into another wall over and over again.

MC had to run up and tell him to stop after the other demon passed out.

They left the demon on the floor of the bathroom and Satan, with his arms around MC to keep them close, headed back to House of Lamentation

The human didn't want the other brothers to see them like this and worry so Satan snuck them into his room and went to get the first aid kit.

It was quiet between the two as he patched them up.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." He said as he finished with their stitches. "Seeing you hurt like that just made my blood boil. They deserved it, but you shouldn't have had to watch."

"It's okay... thank you for saving me."

The two spent the rest of the night huddled together in his room, reading and just settling down from the incident.

Asmodeus:

Shopping trip!

Asmo was a bit too enthusiastic about it, but that's part of why MC was all too willing to go

He mainly just wanted to see MC in cute outfits, but also bought a few for himself

Any self-consciousness MC might feel on her own is long gone when they spend time with him. He's always hyping them up and complimenting them and overall making them feel beautiful.

Time spent with Asmo is always a good time and well spent.

The fifth brother does actually leave their side for a bit after they found someone hot to flirt with

MC didn't mind and just let the Avatar of Lust do his thing as they continued to look through the racks.

At some point a very good looking demon approached them and started flirting with them

It became obvious that this dude was one of Asmo's demons, another demon of lust

Even with this in mind though, their attention really did make the human feel special, even if they probably said such sweet words to everyone

MC underestimated the demon, thinking that just because Asmo wasn't the aggressive sort that the demons under him wouldn't be either

Ends up following him out of the store and makes out with him against the wall of the building

They didn't understand why they were doing this, but the human's mind had been feeling foggy for a while now.

Suddenly, MC's whole body started to feel heavy and they were so dizzy that their vision was just a blur

Ends up passing out and waking up a few minutes later to Asmo crying as he stood over them and begging them to wake up

"Azzy?"

The man threw his arms around them.

Finds out that the fifth brother went looking for them when he saw that they weren't in the store anymore. He came outside just in time to see one of his underlings try to suck their soul out of their body.

As soon as they heard their superior's voice though, they dropped the human and ran.

The two went straight home and Asmo was extra clingy with them for the rest of the day.

Beelzebub:

The two of them went together to Madam Screams since they were both craving sweets.

Beel was really hungering for a cherry pit pie (though of course he planned on order other things as well) while MC was really hankering for some chocodevil cake.

The two happily got in line to pick out their treats, but MC stepped out to get a clearer view of the case with all of the treats to see if they wanted anything different instead.

Ends up getting attacked by a famished, minor demon of gluttony and slammed down on the glass case containing the sweets.

Beel jumped into gear; he changed into his demon form and threw the other demon off of them.

During the skirmish, the two ended up breaking down a wall and crushing three tables.

When the fight ended, the big guy rushed up to MC to make sure they're okay.

The human was bleeding and had a lot of glass shards embedded in their back and arms.

Though worried, the sweet boy keeps himself together and carefully takes out the bigger shards.

Rushes them home, treats forgotten.

Once home, Lucifer is the one who gets the rest of the glass out of their back and cleans up their wounds.

Beel stays by their side and lets them squeeze their hand when Luce's clean up hurts too much.

Luce gives his younger brother a lecture for all the stuff he had broken back at Madam Screams, but is surprisingly lenient with him.

The older brother didn't say it (and honestly, he should have), but he was proud of his brother for stepping up and protecting MC, but at the same time, expected nothing less from him.

Yeah, Lucifer will likely get sent the bill, but MC's safety is more important.

Belphegor:

Belphie had fallen asleep during class; no surprise there.

The rest of the students left the room when class ended, but the seventh brother continued to sleep at his desk.

MC found his sleeping face cute and didn't want to wake the demon

So instead, they hung around the classroom, waiting for the Avatar of Sloth to awake; the school day was over and the classroom wasn't going to be used for anything else so they thought there'd be no harm in hanging around.

Sadly, they were wrong.

Another student, a jerk from their Seductive Speechcraft class had waited for them to leave the classroom in order to harass them, but when they didn't come out, he came in.

Eventually had them backed up against the wall and forcing their hand up their shirt, causing the human to yelp.

He tried covering their mouth with his other hand, but MC bit them, angering the demon and leading them to putting their hands around their throat as he yelled at them.

The entire time, the minor demon never saw the Avatar of Sloth sleeping at his desk.

Big mistake.

Belphie woke up and saw the scene before him, turning into his demon form real quick.

Didn't hesitate to grab a hold of the bastard and make him let go of MC, who was now gasping for much needed air.

The seventh brother used his miasma aura to weaken the demon as he was now the one doing the choking with the lower demon.

MC covered their face and cried in their corner on the floor.

It was too similar to That Night™️ and the human was bordering on panic attack because of it.

Once the minor demon passed out, Belphie turned and saw MC crying on the floor.

He rushed up to them, but stopped once MC started screaming and begging for him to stay back.

That look in their eyes... it was the same fearful look he remembered from That Night™️

And it killed Belphie inside because he never wanted them to be scared of him ever again.

He waited for the human to calm down and, with their permission, slowly approached them.

He wanted to hug them, but was afraid that they'd just be reminded of it even more so he held back.

Surprising him, the human hugged him instead.

He held them tight for as long as they needed and started to notice the bruises forming on their neck

The two went home after that and reported the incident to Lucifer before Belphie dragged MC with him for a nap.

He chose Beel and his' room since he knew the attic would probably be too much for them right now.

Cuddled close to them and apologized for all of it. For falling asleep and leaving them defenseless. For the other demon's attack. For scarying them. Above all, that he was sorry for That Night™️

~

Masterlist

[jimlingss]

The Art of Benefits

➜ Words: 9.8k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut, FWB!AU

➜ Summary: There's only one aspect of your life that's missing: sex. But you know yourself. You catch feelings as quickly as you catch colds. But when your friend arranges a meeting with a certain Park Jimin, you'll become inclined to learn the craft of detachment, aka. the art of benefits.

➜ Warning: sex, sexual discussions, toys, sucking dick, period sex, etc.

cr.

[2nd Year Fall Semester]   Life as a sophomore wasn’t shabby.   Assignments, papers and midterms came and went with decent grades that you eventually forgot about. Lectures, club meetings, and studying took most of your time too. But Christmas was arriving and that meant it was sweater weather. It also meant that snow was dusting from the sky and you were watching couples cozying up and keeping each other warm from across the dining center.   It was unfair really. You were cold too. In fact, most of the time you happen to be cold. And while relationships were too much of a time commitment for you to take on, you deserved a cuddle buddy just as much as the next person. Or a fuck buddy. Either works really.   You’ve never been opposed to a friends with benefits relationship.    The only problem is, it would never work for you.   But if you somehow learnt to detach your emotions, it could be the most efficient thing yet. After all, good sex with another warm body was the only aspect in your life that you were missing.   “I mean it’s possible. A lot of people start friends with benefits relationships on campus,” Wendy says as she stuffs her face with her sub sandwich and muses mid-chew, “There’s actually a lot of candidates to choose from.”   You’re exasperated at her nonchalance. As if it’s as easy as going to the supermarket and picking someone up. “Who?!”    You need someone who would be on the same page as you, with the same priorities, a good sex partner who wouldn’t catch feelings either. But frankly, you don’t know that many people.    “Well, what about that guy from your class that you were crushing on? Didn’t you say he was super smart? Might help you on your assignments too.”   “Namjoon?” You shake your head. “He’s got a girlfriend.”   “Okay. What about that older guy in your board games club?”   “No. Seokjin’s graduating next semester.”   Wendy hums, eyes flickering around the dining hall center as she contemplates. “How about Yoongi? From what you’ve told me, he seems pretty cool.”   You loll your head to one side and stab your sweet and sour chicken. “I’m not going to sleep with someone from work. That sounds like a disaster waiting.”   “Jungkook?”   “That’s weird. We went to the same elementary school together.” You can still remember his bowl cut hair as clear as day, and not to mention, the two of you share a group of friends. If things go downhill, it would be a complete mess. The epitome of inefficiency. Which is counterproductive to your goal.   “Taehyung?” At this point, Wendy’s just listing out random people that you know, but you play along just for amusement.   “Nah. Yena has a crush on him.”   She takes another clean bite of her sandwich. “What about that guy that works at that McDonalds that you find cute. What’s his name? Hugo? Howard?”   “Hoseok,” you correct with a feigned glare that makes her smile. “And that’s a big fat no. He doesn’t even know I exist. What am I supposed to do? Waltz up to him and ask to be fuck buddies?”   She grins. “Well, I mean—”   “It wouldn’t work,” you deadpan before she laughs and in turn, makes you giggle too.   The chatter of the room settles in your ears as background noise. You gaze out the window to the sparkling snow piles that reflect the lampposts soft, white light. The sun has long fallen even though it’s only six p.m. The low lights peeking through the somber clouds covering the horizon does little. You dread the thought of having to venture out into the cold and catch the bus home.   You don’t notice how Wendy’s looking at you while she sips on her water. Not until she hums. “You know what? I know someone I could hook you up with.”   Your brow cocks and the corner of your mouth twitches. “Is he a fuckboy?”   Your long time friend shrugs with a glint in her eyes that makes you unsure if she’s serious or not. Wendy once joked that she had a boyfriend from Northern Canada and convinced you hard enough that you legitimately believed her for a good month. So you can never be quite certain when it comes to her. For all you know, she could just be making it up to entertain you.   “Sort of, but he’s a nice one.” Wendy stays vague. “He was my lab partner.”   You stare at her and when her expression remains blank, you scoff. “Sure, sure,” you draw out the syllables with a small laugh and bat the air with your hand just to end the conversation.   And when it’s never discussed again, Wendy moving on to tell you a story about something she suddenly remembers, you’d one day come to realize that was a terrible, terrible mistake.   //   That one day is now.   3:50pm. Wendy: hey i set up a meeting what that guy 3:50pm. Wendy: third floor library  3:50pm. Wendy: he’s in a red hat btw   The text comes right when you’re leaving your last lecture of the day.   3:51pm. Y/N: what guy   3:53pm. Wendy: your future fwb   3:53pm. Y/N: ?????????????????????????????????/ 3:53pm. Y/N: ???????????????? 3:54pm. Y/N: wtf i wasn’t SERIOUS   3:54pm. Wendy: wat   3:54pm. Y/N: I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING   3:56pm. Wendy: lmao too late 3:56pm. Wendy: at least meet him he’s waiting sis   3:54pm. Y/N: can’t you cancel?????????   3:57pm. Wendy: n a h   You nearly burst an artery in your temple at the emojis and memes she spams to you.   3:59pm. Wendy: I already told him the gist btw 4:00pm. Wendy: don’t chicken out   With no other choice, you make a u-turn and head towards the library with too many thoughts swirling inside your brain. Chances are this stranger is going to see you, think you’re ugly as shit and try to back out of it. It’s going to be awkward as all hell and you’re not sure you’re ready to have this traumatizing memory for the rest of your life.   Then again, you wonder how Wendy even convinced this dude to meet up. If he’s really that easy going. If this is a typical thing people do now. Or maybe Wendy showed a picture of you on your insta and he agreed afterwards — it wouldn’t be the first time she did that, much to your embarrassment. But you hope it’s the latter case. At least that eliminates the possibility of him trying to backpedal his way out of it after seeing your face.   You also wonder how the hell you’re going to find him. The library is full of students, the rowdy ones and the studious ones being disturbed by them. You wonder what he looks like, what he’ll be like. Third floor. Male. Red hat.   You arrive at the appropriate floor and begin scanning the premise, walking around as your eyes sweep the area. Almost immediately you catch a brunette hunched over and on his phone by the table. He’s wearing a red cap on backwards, purple tee shirt. He has a frat boy aesthetic.   Not really the type you go for.   Looking over him, you round the computers, bookshelves and tables. But finding no one else with a red hat on the third floor, you sharply inhale and approach the boy with his fluffy cheek rested in his hand, arm propped up on the table lazily. Scrolling through his phone.   “Excuse me.”    Your voice is light and hesitant as if you were asking help from someone at the front desk and not seeing if this was a potential fuck buddy. It’s mortifying to say the least.   His head lifts, brown eyes catching the lights.   You clear your throat. “Wendy…”   “Oh. You’re her, right?” He smiles and thankfully, doesn’t seem to be disappointed. “Wendy’s friend?”   “Yeah. I’m Y/N.”   “Jimin.”   Now that you get a closer look, he’s kind of cute. But you don’t dwell. Or look him in the eye.   It feels like a job interview. But worse. “You were Wendy’s lab partner?”   “That’s me.” He pockets his phone. “I’m a kines major. You?”   “I’m in the arts faculty. Political science.”   “Cool, cool.” Jimin nods and then gets to business without any shame, “So Wendy already told me about it. You’re looking to have a friends with benefits relationship?”   “Yeah….about that….”   “I’m down if you are.” His hand opens up, gesturing to you. You’re not sure how you feel about how laid-back he is, but he remains upfront which you suppose is the right thing to do. “I have a dorm room in the Sierra building by the engineering faculty building if you know where that is.”   “I’ve walked past it before.”   “Cool. Anyway, my last f.w.b. ended two months ago and I kind of miss it,” he quickly clarifies, “The sex, I mean.”   You’re speechless and contemplating if you really want to do this. You know if it works out, it’ll be fairly efficient. You’ve always gotten off by yourself and while it works, it’s not something you’d call completely satisfying. Having someone’s help— good help — is a change you’ve been considering. But a friends with benefits situation has always been one of those ‘what if’ scenarios. You've just never had an opportunity like this to make it actually happen.   Jimin senses your hesitance and leans forward. He lowers his volume. “Are you a virgin? Cause I’m cool with—”   You scoff. “No. I’m not. I just...haven’t done something like this before.”   “Friends with benefits?” His question is answered by your body language. “It’s not bad. Safer than one night stands and more consistent too. You don’t have to go out and find someone every time you want to have sex. And it’s a low level commitment.”   The corner of your mouth pulls and you agree. “It’s efficient. But...I need time to think about it.”   “Sure. Tell me when you make up your mind. I’ll give you my number.” He opens his hand again and you pass him your phone. He quickly types it in. “Take your time.”   //   And you do.   You weigh the pros and cons against each other, considering every possibility and all the consequences. Part of you wants to just go for it. The same part that once decided in high school at midnight that bangs would be a hot look on you. (It wasn’t). The part of you that dyed your hair blue that one summer on a whim. The part that doesn’t want to think and wants to jump head first into things. Jimin made a lot of good pointers too and you’re certain this would be a good outlet. An experience. It helps that he’s quite attractive too and seems to be trustworthy and rational.   Yet, part of you wonders if it would be a bad decision.   There’s a chance that you might catch feelings. For you, it wouldn’t be unheard of either. You have a tendency to catch feelings as fast as you catch colds. And you already know that’s the demise of these kinds of relationships. Once a party gets involved too deep, it’s game over. There’s nothing but heartbreak.   The only way it would work is if you minimize your interactions with him.   The less attached you are, the less likely you are to develop feelings for him since the only way you would like anyone is if you knew them. So the less you know, the better the outcome.    It’s an equation.    It’s the art of the benefits.   And if that works, if you master the art, it would solve every potential issue.   The dorms for sophomores are bigger than the ones for first year freshmen. Instead of a single room with two beds on either side by the walls, there are private bedrooms with just a shared bathroom, a main living space and kitchen.    “Bathrooms are over here,” Jimin gestures. There’s one room at the end of the hall and another one beside his. “Both my roommates are out, so you don’t have to worry. They’re pretty nice.”   You feel awkward lingering at the entryway with your backpack on.   You clear your throat. “Can I get a drink?”   “Oh yeah. There’s new water bottles by the sink, I think, and there’s orange juice in the fridge if you’d like.”   “No, I mean, do you have anything alcoholic?” you correct and he blinks at you owlishly before smiling. You drop your bag and find it in the fridge, a whole vodka bottle. You fill a shot up with a glass on the drying rack. The clear liquid burns as it travels to the back of your throat. The bitter taste nearly makes you gag, but you feel your face warm and you ease even more, knowing it works.   In the meanwhile, Jimin studies you, standing from across the kitchen island. His hands are casually dug into the pockets of his gray sweats. “We won’t have to follow through with this, you know. I’m fine either way.”   “No,” you quickly refute, irrationally afraid he’s changed his mind. And the words spill out of you as you cringe, “I’m horny as shit, I’mjustnervous.”   The guy smiles, eyes slightly crinkled when he does so. “Of what?”   “A lot of things.” You don’t pour a second shot even though you kind of want to. But you have things to do tomorrow, so you can’t nurse a hangover and you most certainly don’t want to be drunk while doing this. “If you didn’t notice, I don’t do this often.”   While you’re at it, you tell him, “I don’t know how to suck dick.”   He leans against the counter, grinning. “Okay. I don’t mind.”   “Also, if you haven’t noticed either, my ass is kind of deflated.”   Jimin shrugs. “I’m more of a boob man anyway.”    You narrow your eyes, not sure if he’s lying or trying to make you feel better.   But there’s no time to dwell when he seriously asks— “Do you still want to do this?”   It takes a second for you to muster your courage. And once you do, you know you won’t back down. “All right. Let’s do this!” You walk into his room like you’re about to go fight off a monster.   Behind you, Jimin grins and it takes a good moment for him to calm you down.   “Are you okay with kissing?” he asks, door shut and distance closed. He’s intimately close and you nod.   Finally, your brain stops overthinking and you let yourself feel. Jimin’s lips are full and plush, and they’re good against yours. The soft smacking fills his room. The two of you kiss until your lips part and he begins to lick into your mouth, tongue entering without much hesitation.   You fall back onto the mattress, noticing that the bed’s been made sloppily, but better than your own. The pair of you keep kissing and he hovers over you, capturing you against the sheets. Pathetically enough, you already begin to feel your center throbbing and it’s a relief when you both get rid of your clothes.   He doesn’t talk much — doesn’t give much commentary or even dirty talk. But you don’t mind. All you’re offering after all is soft sighs and quiet moans.   Jimin squeezes your breasts and fingers you for a good minute. He’s surprised to see how wet you are, even letting out an ‘oh shit’, but you make no efforts to come up with an excuse. The stretch feels good from his thick fingers, but you bet it’ll feel good around his girthy cock too.   He goes to grab a condom from his drawer, but pauses.   “Do...you want me to eat you out?”   “I’m good,” you politely decline, afraid it might be too intimate. You’re not sure where the lines are drawn, but it’s something you’ll have to gauge while you go. “Do you want me to suck your dick? You might have to teach me though.”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “I’m good too.”   As Jimin rips open the condom package, you turn yourself around and get onto all fours. He doesn’t protest and when he enters you, it feels good enough for you to fall forward into the pillows. His cock is of average size, but he’s girthy and your cunt stretches to accommodate him.   He groans in his throat when you clench — and the sound gets you off, making you squeeze again. Jimin pounds into you, his pelvis hitting the meat of your ass, cock drawing in and out against your tight, warm walls. You do your best to meet his thrusts halfway, jerking your hips back and you stifle your moans with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. The sloppy sounds of slapping and the creaking of his bed makes you glad his roommates are gone. And while the sex is not mind-blowing per se, it’s still good. Enough that you climax once he rubs your clit several times and he unloads into the condom too.   It’s easier than you thought it would be. Not a big deal whatsoever. It took ten minutes in total and it felt good.   It’s just sex — and that’s exactly it. Just sex. The very lesson of the art of benefits.   You pick up your clothes off the floor, slipping them back on. “I gotta get going.”   There’s no snuggling, no cuddling, no pillow talks. And it doesn’t seem like he minds whatsoever.   “‘Kay.” Jimin picks up his phone off his bedside table to check his texts and waves goodbye without even looking at you.   You leave, walking yourself out and humming as you stride down the hall.    You’re glad you went through with it.

[2nd Year Winter Semester]   You run there with your sandwich stuffed in your cheek.   By the time Jimin opens the door, you’re still chewing while panting. It’s a comical sight by the way he smiles at you. You’re already winded before anything’s started. “I hadn’t eaten yet and I needed to get my blood sugar up.”   Jimin’s lips are quirked. “We can always eat beforehand, you know. There’s food in the fridge.”   “Nah, I’m good.” Having meals with your friends with benefits is the last thing on your mind.   He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”   You use his bathroom, releasing your bladder and rinsing your mouth thoroughly. You know yourself and you’re not a novice on how these relationships work. The less interaction and knowledge you have about him, the more you can keep your distance.   “G-God,” he exhales shakingly, hand fisted in your hair. “You’re getting b-better at this….”   Jimin watches through heavy lids as you’re slobbering over his cock. He tries his best to watch, but when you run your tongue over the weeping slit at the bulborous head, his eyes shut and his head naturally knocks back. You’ve gotten better at a lot of things in the few months that have passed, namely sucking dick, but your jaw aches and you wonder when he’s going to cum.   It’s worth it though. You might be the one kneeling in front of him, but you feel powerful. It’s too easy to make him crumble. To make him moan like that. It makes you wet to hear him and knowing you could bite off his dick or make him lose a load, the sheer power eggs you on.   Like you were taught, you inhale, ease your muscles and take Jimin as far as you can.   He chokes as his cock hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflexes threaten your endeavour but you keep them at bay and Jimin’s hand in your hair tightens. Especially when you swallow.   “Fuck. I-I’m going to cum.”   Thank god. Finally!   Usually, you let off so he can cum elsewhere (god forbid in your hair) or if he accidentally does it in your mouth, you spit it out on tissue. But this time, you made a commitment to yourself. You came here with a goal. So you inhale again and deep throat him, sucking as much as you can.   With his curly pubic hair grazing your nose, Jimin cums. His groans staccato. His cock twitches.   And you swallow the bitter, white fluid that comes out in ribbons.   After a few seconds, you finally withdraw. Jimin opens his eyes, staring at you in wonderment. There are strands of saliva from between his softened cock to your lips and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.   “Not gonna lie.” You clear your throat and swallow down the remaining taste. “That’s really nasty.”   Jimin bursts out laughing.   “Thanks.”    “It’s the least I can do.” You stand up, shaking your left leg awake. It feels like pins and needles when you step around. “I’ve sat on your face like twice already.”   You toss Jimin his pants off the ground and you get your cardigan back on.   “You wanna come over on Friday?”   “Uh…” You grab your phone from your jacket that’s also been discarded and check your calendar. “Sorry. Can’t. I’m busy on that day.”   His brows raise, but he doesn’t question it.   “How about Saturday?” you offer.   “No. I have a kines exam scheduled.”   Your face twists in disgust. “On a Saturday?”   “Yep. I know. It sucks.”   You sympathize, but you’re also surprised. “I didn’t know you were a kines major.”   “What? I thought I told you.”   “Guess I forgot.” You put yourself back together and a thought strikes you. Your eyes light up and you turn to your friend with glittering eyes. “Does that mean you can crack bones? I’ve always wanted to go to a chiropractor since my lower back always hurts. You should crack it for me.”   Jimin grins. “Sorry, I don’t know how to do that. They don’t really teach you that kind of stuff.”   “Oh.” Your eyes dim and you don’t try to hide your disappointment. You almost thought you could get a little more out of him, but you suppose decent sex is enough.    As you grab your bag, you notice that his phone lights up. “You got a text from Victoria.”   “Thanks.” He reaches over, but the curious expression on your face must be visible, since he says, “Don’t worry. She’s not my girlfriend or anything. She’s just someone I’m kind of into.”   “Nice!”   The corner of Jimin’s mouth quirks at your genuinely excited response even though he never looks away from the screen. You’re psyched though. If he has an interest in someone else, there’s less chance for anyone to catch feelings. Fewer connections. More distance.   “If you ever want to end this, just let me know.” You throw your backpack on that’s heavy with your laptop and textbooks inside.   “Yeah.”   “I’m going now.”   “Bye.” Jimin’s fingers fly across the screen to text the other girl back and neither of you spare each other a glance. The door shuts moments later and the noise echoes through the walls.

[3rd Year Fall Semester]   In spite of being a junior now, things have relatively remained the same.   According to course outlines, lectures are more in-depth in their content, but there’s still assignments, papers, and midterms. The grading schemes haven’t changed and you know there’s a shit ton of work waiting for you in the coming months. But you find pleasure wherever you can.   The door opens, but it’s not Jimin on the other side.   “Hey, Y/N.” Taemin, his roommate, is eating chips. “He’s in his room.”   “Thanks.”   You shuffle inside and after briefly greeting Jongin, the other roommate, who’s busy playing Animal Crossing on the living room couch, you beeline to his room. You find Jimin hunched over his messy desk, rounded spectacles on the bridge of his nose as he’s tapping furiously across his laptop keyboard.   He glances at you. “Sorry. I need a second.”   “Take your time.”    You set down your bag and shed your coat, tossing it aside. You’re not sure what he’s doing, but you don’t ask. Instead, you pull out your phone and run through your usual apps. With no messages to answer or anything to scroll through, you check your email and find the words ‘emergency’ in one of the subject lines.   After a minute, Jimin saves his document and closes the lid of his laptop. He stretches above his head with a groan and turns around, only to find you now hunched over your own device.   “Sorry,” you mutter once you feel his gaze on you. “My manager needs me to fill out my timesheet and send it to her.”   “I didn’t know you worked.”   “Just part-time at the admissions office here on campus.” You go quiet as you skim over your email again to ensure it makes sense. “It’s a pretty easy gig.”   He hums and you finish, shutting your laptop and sticking it back into your bag. That’s when you finally get a good look at the boy across the room — dark hair, blue shirt and gray sweats — and you notice how tan he’s gotten. It’s a good look.    Your mouth tugs. “Did you travel over the summer?”   “I went to the Caribbean with my family for like two weeks.”   “Fancy.”   “It was alright.” He gets up and re-stacks the textbooks on his desk into a single pile. Jimin notices the stack of flyers he was supposed to distribute. “Oh yeah. Do you want to join the crayon club?”   Your brow lifts. “The crayon club?”   “Yeah, you can come colour every Wednesday night and just hang out with people.” Jimin grins boyishly. “My friend wanted to make a club and he made me the communications executive. I’m supposed to get people to join. You don’t have to, but the first meet and greet is this Friday, and the more people the better. There’s gonna be free food by the way, if that helps.”   You’re not sure that's a good idea.   The two of you have never really met up outside of his dormitory, aside from the first time you met at the library.   “Let me check my calendar.” You grab your phone again and thoughtlessly mumble, “Sometimes I’m busy on Friday. I’m part of the board games club and we meet up every other week…..don’t judge.”   “I’m not.”    Still, Jimin's smile widens and you feign a pout.    You’re free this week.   “I’ll come if you make me an executive too,” you quip carelessly while tossing your phone aside. “It’ll look good on my law application.”   Jimin quirks his head. He didn’t know you were aiming for law school. “Okay.”   “Wait.” You’re taken off guard, eyes as wide as saucers. “Seriously?!”   He with a small laugh. Jimin gets up and closes the distance, making you lean against the headboard until he’s completely hovering over you, mere inches away. “We actually need a position filled anyway, so you just saved me some trouble.”   “You better keep your promise, Park.”   You end up showing with Wendy and Tiffany in tow — the former who wants to raid whatever food there is and the latter genuinely interested in colouring as a means of relaxation. It’s a bit awkward to meet so many new people at once and Jimin’s friends at that, but you can tell they’re nice at heart. Albeit, a bit rambunctious and too friendly. And you’re a bit horrified when one of them tries to eat a crayon to further advertise the club.   “So, what’s up with you and Jimin?” Tiffany asks, peering up at you as she colours in the lines carefully. She’s unaware of your arrangement with the boy. It’s not something you’ve told many.   You feign ignorance, not wanting to get into the details with strangers around. “What do you mean?”   “Are you dating him?”   You scoff. “I wish.”   Immediately, Wendy’s brows raise to her hairline and the words that fumbled out of you thoughtlessly finally sink in. “I mean, no, we’re not. Not I wish.”   Luckily, Tiffany spares you and doesn’t pry. But you’re mortified and you glance at Jimin from across the room laughing noisily with his friend. You turn away from him, trying to create more distance.

[3rd Year Winter Semester]   With exam season here, you and Jimin hadn’t seen each other in a while.   Luckily, Spring break was approaching, so you at least had something to look forward to. The idea of being able to lay in bed and sleep in automatically puts you in a good mood. Jimin, however, seems less than stoked.   You watch from the bed as he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up before you’ve gotten a chance to. He was frowning when he opened the door, greeted you with one word and in general, has been quieter than usual.   “Is….everything alright?” You wonder if you did something to piss him off, but then he says—   “I flunked my final.”   Oh. That explains his bad mood.   “The one you took this morning?” you ask.   “Yeah.” Jimin deflates with an extended sigh. “I didn’t get the first twenty questions and then I fucking ran out of time….”   There’s a pause that lingers.   “Well, you’re not sure if you actually failed, right?” You lean closer to him, quirking your head to the side. “The marks haven’t been released and who knows, the prof might curve it.”   “Maybe. I don’t know.” Jimin scrubs a hand over his face, uncertain and stressed. “This ruins everything. I’m trying to get an internship at a clinical rehabilitation facility and I want to apply for a masters and now...fuck.” You’re surprised. You didn’t know he had so many goals. “I’m screwed.”   Jimin flops back onto his mattress, staring at the ceiling. You loom over him, blocking his view.   “Does the internship look at your GPA?”   “They want a three point o average or more.”   “What do you have now?”   “Three point five.”   The corner of your mouth pulls and a rush of air leaves your nose in a snort. “Then you’ll make it! Even if you failed one exam, it wouldn’t tank past a three. It can’t be too bad, right?”   “Yeah, I guess.” Jimin sighs and absentmindedly tugs on your strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face and is grazing against his cheek. “I just don’t know anymore.”   “It’s going to be fine,” you reassure, slapping your hand on his shoulder. “You’re just overthinking it.”   “Maybe,” he hums.   A sudden thought comes across your mind and your small smile turns devious. “Let me make you feel better.”   You shift to straddle his hips and instantly, his hands lift to your waist. Jimin starts to grin as you pull at his shirt, trying to get him to strip. And you do your best to pleasure him.   It doesn’t take much effort considering Jimin’s hand is already tightening in your hair the minute you run your tongue along his shaft. But he doesn’t let you suck him for too long, eager to feel you inside instead and pleasure you just the same.   It’s eager and messy sex. You’re on top until your thighs begin to burn and you lose your pace. Then he re-repositions the both of you, so you’re flat on your back and he’s doing most of the work. You end up cumming twice. Once around his covered cock and the other time after he coaxes you around his stiff tongue and eggs you on, even when you’re sobbing from the overstimulation.   It feels good. Better than good.   Over time, the pair of you have gotten to know each other’s bodies better, what works and what doesn’t.    Your relationship with Jimin is an investment that feels worth it.   “Hey…” You’re both facing away from each other as you put your clothes back on. Jimin turns his head and you cast him a glance. “I was thinking of maybe starting birth control…”   He blinks.   “If you go get yourself checked out and make sure you’re clean, we can do it without condoms.”   You pull down your sweater over your head and you both stare at each other. He looks surprised and responds in a delayed manner, “Okay. Cool. I’m down. I’ll get myself checked out this weekend. I haven’t really slept with anyone else since this started though.”   It’s your turn to be caught off guard. “Really? What...about that girl you were into? Vicky?”   “You mean Victoria?” He jumps as he puts on his sweatpants, getting both legs through at once. “Nah. It didn’t end up working out.”   “Oh.” He’s entirely nonchalant about it, so you merely nod.   Jimin walks you to the door and you notice that he’s in a better mood than earlier. You hide your smile to yourself, glad that it was mutually beneficial.   Two weeks later, he gets an email before the two of you get down and dirty, and you’re the first one in his life to know that he got the summer internship. His excitement is infectious and you genuinely feel happy for him.

[4th Year Fall Semester]   It’s so close, you can taste it.   A whole new semester and cart of overpriced textbooks later meant you were a senior now. It also meant that there was just this year left and you were out of here. Finished at least one degree. A step closer to making the big bucks and being a whole ass adult.   The idea is both exhilarating and frightening.   2:20pm. Jimin: Wanna come over?   The text mocks you, but the temptation is tangible. Like a carrot tied at the end of a stick that’s attached to a hungry rabbit. You’ve been sexually frustrated since last night, feeling it in your loins since morning, and fidgeting and rubbing your thighs underneath tables and desks. The thought of getting that sweet relief properly is enough for you to want to ditch class altogether, but you can’t. Not for the next few days.   2:22pm. Y/N: can’t. 2:22pm. Y/N: I’m on my period :((   2:23pm. Jimin: I don’t mind   2:23pm. Y/N: really???? 2:24pm. Y/N: are you sure   2:25pm. Jimin: lmao 2:25pm. Jimin: yes   You brace through the rest of the lecture, paying more attention as the anticipation swells. And when it’s all over, you race across campus to the dormitory building you’ve become familiar with.   Jimin opens the door before you need to knock and he plants a chaste kiss against your lips in greeting. You’re taken off guard, but don’t pay too much attention to it. “How was class?”   “Good. You?”   “Same,” he hums.   You drop your bag in his room and gesture below your waist. “I’m going to need to wash up. The nether regions are a bit…”   He smiles. “Sure. I got spare towels I can set down too.”   You self-consciously linger for a moment as he goes to his closet to the upper shelf. The towels are luckily green and not white. “I’m surprised you’re okay with it. Having period sex, I mean.”   “Why wouldn’t I be?” Jimin pushes his blanket aside and puts a towel down. “As long as you’re fine with it, then I am too.”   “I don’t know. Doesn’t blood gross you out?”   “Not really? Most of the time I’m the one making the mess, so it’s actually nice to have someone else make the mess for once. Plus sex is sex. What’s there to complain about?” His brow lifts and he looks at you. You scoff and it makes Jimin grin.   You wash yourself up and he fucks you in missionary position on top of the towels. The pair of you have only done so a few times before. Typically, you’re face down, bent over, on all fours or looking away from each other. But the change is welcome. Jimin hovers over you and you can kiss him when you want to.   “F-Fuck.” A pitched moan unintentionally spills from you when he hits a spot at your walls that has your toes curling. “Ji...min.”   It’s more lubricated than usual, making the strokes easier. He goes softer too. Deeper. Jimin presses your thighs to your chest and makes you feel him all the way to your throat.   The boy smiles tenderly at your reaction in spite of panting himself. “Feel good, baby?”   “Y-Yeah.” You nod, eyes shut tight. You grip his forearms when he bottoms out again. “Always does.”   Your warm walls pulse around his thick cock and you end up cumming soon after. He groans into your neck at how you tighten around him like a vice grip and he thrusts into you one more time before his cum fills you.   The pair of you jump in the shower together to get cleaned up and then you’re picking up your clothes while he tosses the towels in the laundry.   “What were you working on, on Thursday?”   You blink, realizing that you texted him vaguely about being swamped and unable to come over, and that’s enough for you to unload and go on a tangent. “God, don’t remind me. It was my fucking thesis. I barely managed to finish it but I don’t even know if it makes sense and now I have to edit like fifty pages by myself before giving it to my supervisor, so that’s fun.”   It feels good to let it off your chest.   Jimin smiles subtly at your venting. “I could always edit it for you.”   “What? Seriously?”   “Sure.” He shrugs. “I’m not in poly sci, but that might make me a bit more unbiased. I’m not doing much these days either.”   “Oh my god.” There’s an overpowering urge to bow at his feet or suck his dick until you’re gagging or do both. “You’re a life-saver!”   Jimin laughs and it’s the sound of angels singing. “Just send it over. I can get it done by tomorrow. You have my email, right?”   “Of course I do. Duh!” Your grin is big enough that your cheeks hurt and he has one that matches it as well.   //   A few weeks fly by and things calm down enough that you can finally breathe. But that’s when you receive a little text from a certain someone that has you skeptical if you can rest easy.   6:48pm. Jimin: I have a surprise for you 6:48pm. Jimin: I forgot about it   You’re not sure what it is, but asking would be like pulling teeth with him. Jimin hates spoilers and he likes surprises all too much.   Lately, you’ve both been getting into some freaky shit. Buying toys, blindfolds, handcuffs. As adventurous as college kids with a limited budget can get. It was rather fun for the pair of you, and expectedly, some experiments work out better than others. It sends goosebumps all over your skin every time he talks dirty. You like it when Jimin spanks you too. Although, you’re still unsure about the whole candle wax on your body idea.   But there’s one thing for sure — Jimin can most definitely not role play for his life.    The whole school girl fantasy lasted a good five minutes before he started bursting into giggles and breaking character every other second. Playing doctor only made you realize how ticklish he was too. And the tickle fight that followed was definitely not something one would call ‘sexy’. Even if it did lead to the deed being done.   “Hey.” Jimin greets you with a grin and a chaste peck against your lips. “How was studying?”   “Fine.” You brush off the question quickly, too curious of what he has in store. “Jimin, I’m not going to use that twelve inch dildo unless you want to drive me to the ER.”   He bursts out laughing. “That’s not it. Good try though.”   Instead of going to his room like you usually do, Jimin leads you past the kitchen area to the table. It’s been cleared off and you give an inquisitive expression. He grins and then gestures to it.    “Lay down.”   “What?”   “Just lay down.” He takes your hand, guiding you on it and you obey wordlessly. It doesn’t seem like any of his roommates are home and you hope they don’t come back any time soon lest they find you lying face down on their dinner table.   You feel Jimin round the table and pull your ankles together. You tilt yourself up to peek at him, but then he barks— “Down.”   With a pout, you return to your position, arms folded underneath your head. You hope he isn’t about to rub spices on you and roast you in his oven like it feels like he’s doing.   You feel the gentle pressure of Jimin’s hands against your spine, his thumbs pressing into your skin and he hums, “Relax. Okay. Breathe in for me.”   An inhale is taken and his hands suddenly press into the middle of your back. You hear your bones crack loudly. It catches you off guard and you turn yourself with wide eyes. “You know how to do it?!”   He boyishly grins. “I might’ve learnt a thing or two during my internship.”   “Keep going, keep going.” You flip yourself over again, gesturing to your back and he laughs, going down your body and cracking your bones. You become butter in his fingertips, lower back feeling better already.   “Lift your leg for me.”   You follow his instructions to a t. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask sleepily, lulled by his care. If he massaged you too, you might just cream your pants.   “I got this, I got this,” he reassures with a bit of arrogance. “I’m not a professional, but I know what I’m doing. You trust me, right?”   A noise is made at the back of your throat.   “If you break a bone on accident, I’ll sue you,” you mumble as he turns you over. “God, feels good.”   After a while, Jimin gets you to sit up and continues. He looks nice when he’s concentrating. Expression blank. Lips plump and in a line. Brows only slightly furrowed. “Considering you don’t have any ailments, you don’t need to get your bones cracked often. You should stretch and do some exercise instead.”   You scoff. “Having sex with you is enough exercise.”   To prove your point, you latch onto his arm and tug him towards you. Jimin smiles and the two of you break a sweat against each other on the table before either of his roommates come home.

[4th Year Winter Semester]   It was an invitation that you would’ve called yourself crazy for offering a year ago. But if it wasn’t for him editing your thesis and taking a load off your mind, you would’ve had a harder time.    You had him to thank for that.   “So?” Jimin’s seated across from you at the restaurant booth. It wasn’t surprisingly difficult to ask him to grab a bite with you. For some reason, you thought he would reject. “What’s the big news?”   Instead of answering, you reach into your bag and slide the envelope across the table.   He’s curious and takes it, pulling out the letter to read. You sip on your water, watching his expression intently. He mutters the words and it takes him through the first paragraph before he realizes. Then, at once, Jimin’s eyes widen. His mouth drops and he looks at you proudly.   “You got into law school?”   “Three of them,” you tell with a cheesy grin.    “T-That’s….fucking amazing. Holy fuck.” He reaches over and hugs you. It’s awkward considering there’s a whole table in the way, but you appreciate the sentiment. You’re giddy and giggling at how excited he is. It makes you feel like the first time you opened the letter yourself.   Jimin presses a kiss against your hair before withdrawing. “When did you find out?”   “Two days ago. I really thought I wasn’t going to get in since I got rejection letters last week from the other schools, but then three of them came in rapid succession.”   He shakes his head, still in awe. “Congratulations. Seriously. You deserve it, Y/N. God knows how hard you worked.”   “Thanks.” You smile to yourself, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. “I was thinking of maybe leaving the city to a different uni, but….I’m going to stay with my parents for as long as I can to save up on loans.”   “Yeah, sounds good.” He nods. “Moving out can be expensive.”   “What about you? Have you applied to your masters program yet?”   Jimin laughs. “Actually, I was planning on telling you that today too. I didn’t bring any fancy letter with me though.”   You lean closer, sitting on the edge of your seat. “You got in?”   “I did. Yesterday.” His enormous smile causes your own to expand. “I’m gonna do it part-time while working at the same facility I did my internship at.”   You’re happy for him and you can tell by his expression that he’s genuinely excited for you too. The pair of you were taking steps forward for your future and while it was a little scary, for now, you enjoy the victory and pig out at the restaurant with little restraints.   At the end of the night, you’re both wine drunk when you stumble back to his dorm room and soon, you’re trying to muffle your whimpers with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. It doesn’t help when he presses the humming vibrator to your clit harder.   “J-Jimin,” you sob, fingers twisting into his sheets. You’re slumped against the headboard as he surrounds you.   “Louder,” he commands, watching you through heavy lidded eyes. The cold air of his bedroom made your nipples hardened, yet you feel hot all over, under his gaze and ruthlessness.    Your hand curls around his wrist. “Your roommates are sleep—” You cry and keen against his chest when he plunges the toy into your swollen cunt that’s leaking down your ass and thighs.   “It’s okay,” he murmurs in a low voice against your ear, “Let it go.”   You feel the toy nudge against your cervix, the vibrations trembling through your body and you orgasm hard with your forehead pressed against Jimin’s shoulder. Even then, he continues to draw it in and out of you, studying how you’ve creamed around the vibrator, how your slick is dripping to his sheets that are already stained with the scent of your shampoo.   “J-Jimin,” you whine loudly, not knowing if you’re trying to lean away from his touch or closer. “T-...too m-much!”   “You can take it,” Jimin softly coaxes and you nod.    You cum again after a minute and he immediately kisses you with a big smile before peppering pecks down to your neck. It makes you feel ticklish and winded.   “Hey...Jimin…”   “Hmm?”   “Are we still gonna do this after we graduate?” you ask in a quiet voice, laying back in the ruined sheets. “I’m gonna be busy and you are too.”   “We’ll figure it out.” He flops beside you and you both face each other. Jimin’s arm is draped over your waist and you stare at one another for a moment before he closes the distance.   Jimin nudges you for a languid kiss, your noses brushing as his soft, plush lips press against yours. It’s unhurried. Slow. He urges your mouth to part for him and his tongue slips in as you whimper, giving you a chance to properly taste him.   Sloppy, wet noises fill the room while heat rises to your cheeks. But you’re unbothered while swapping spit with Park Jimin. It’s lazy, yet it feels good. So much so that you’ve relaxed entirely.   In the back of your mind, you know you should get up and put some clothes on. Any cuddling or post-sex touching has largely been unprecedented before this and it’s not good to make habits you’ll have to eventually break. You should get your sweater off the floor, or at least slip on his purple t-shirt….   But you give into the temptation and shut your eyes for one second. One mere second.    That’s enough for you to doze off.   When Jimin realizes you’ve accidentally fallen asleep, he smiles to himself and tugs the blankets up to your shoulders, securing you in warmly.   //   You stifle another yawn with your hand.    It’s 9:30 in the goddamn morning and way too early for you. There’s a reason you pick afternoon classes, go to work afterwards and then go see Jimin to end your day off. There’s no situation good enough that warrants your alarm blaring before eight — but you suppose a graduation ceremony could be an exception.   “There’s so many people,” your dad gasps in wonderment, looking around the vast hall. “Do you know them all?”   “No.” You hold in your sigh. “I don’t.”   For the past twenty minutes, you’ve been running around looking for your parents after they’ve wandered off and gotten lost. If they weren’t spamming their cameras on their phone and telling you to smile in front of the odd statue or the meaningless bulletin board that wasn’t even part of your faculty, it was calling your name as loud as they could to find you in the crowds.   You’re happy over their enthusiasm but also burdened. It’s a lot of mixed feelings.   “Y/N?”   Dark hair and brown eyes — a certain someone who you weren’t expecting to run into is staring right at you with a boyish smile. “Jimin?” He looks good, a suit underneath and a black graduation gown over it that falls to his calf. His gown has a golden hood and tassel while yours is white — the colours symbolizing your different faculties and areas of study.    “Hey.” His gaze is warm. “You look nice.”   “Thanks. You too.”   You don’t linger on him for long, not when his parents are right by his side. You divert your vision and greet them politely. Jimin surprisingly looks a lot like his dad and his mom has a kind face. They seem like sweet people and you’re suddenly breaking into a sweat. “Nice to meet you.”   Your own parents make themselves known and you feel like your worlds are colliding as they shake hands and exchange names, congratulating each other on their child’s graduation.   You’re about to get them moving along when your mom nudges you. “Is this your boyfriend?”   Her voice is way too loud and you feel yourself burn in embarrassment.    “No. He’s just a friend,” you whisper it sharply but much your dismay, they look unconvinced.   You miss the way Jimin smiles to himself.   “We should get a picture!” his dad declares and your own dad looks even more elated at the idea of spamming more pictures. You already had to delete a hundred blurry ones, but your mom ignores your groan and pushes you both towards some weird artwork on the wall.   “Stand over here! Over here! Smile!”   Your parents end up sitting next to each other on the rows and you have no words, forced to sit at the bottom with the rest of your graduating class. It’s a wonder that the Arts Faculty was scheduled right before the Faculty of Kines. Fate or coincidence, you’re not sure yet.   But it’s still nice to see Jimin walk the stage and be able to cheer for him.   “Congratulations, Mr. Park.”   He grins. “Congratulations to you too, Miss L/N.”   It’s certain that the numerous celebrations with family, friends and relatives will be chaotic, so you take advantage of the opportunity while you still can. You steal just a little moment for your selfish desires by standing outside before you’re both bombarded by your circle of people.   “You know, I couldn’t have done it without you.”   “Oh, stop it with the sappiness.” You can’t feign a roll of your eyes when your smile is so big.   He swings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and laughing. “Why? Don’t like it?” And the little shit slyly leans in to whisper, “You like it when I call you my baby though.”   “Jimin!”   He laughs and you sigh with a smile.   You’re glad you ran into him.

[Post-Graduation]   You open the door, welcoming yourself in.   “Hey.”   Jimin’s on the couch and glances at you, unfazed at how you’ve waltzed right into his apartment with little warning. You’ve always knocked out of courtesy for his roommates, but ever since he moved out of the dormitories, you find little need to make him walk all the way to the door.   He’s watching a thriller and you flop down on his couch, leaning over to plant a quick peck against his mouth as a greeting. “How was work?”   “It was okay. A bit busy. I met this nice old lady and we chatted for a bit. She called me handsome, so there’s that.” He grins and you scoff lightly, leaning your cheek on his shoulder as you watch the main character venture into an abandoned house on screen. Jimin loves his praises, so you’re not wholly surprised he’s kept a mental note of it.    You’re not sure why it’s important though. Anyone with eyes would agree he’s good-looking.   “How was class?”   “Awful,” you mumble, feeling tired against him. You came over to get rid of some sexual frustration, but you’re not even sure you have the energy to do anything anymore. “Commuting was brutal this morning. Traffic was backed up on the highway and I was late, and yesterday I had to drive back at night. My parents are driving me nuts too. I can’t study properly.”   Jimin hums a soothing note and slings an arm at the back of the couch where you’re sitting, letting you lean into him. It goes quiet as the two of you watch the suspenseful scene and then he absentmindedly pipes up after a minute, “You could always move in with me.”   He continues, “It’s closer to the university and it’s quiet during the day, so you can study. We could always study together too.”   It’s a good idea, but— “I can’t afford that.”   “I don’t mind paying rent for a while. It’s the same either way.”   It takes a second for the words sink in and then you’re peeling yourself off of him.   Your gaze is met with Jimin’s, eyes locking into one another and the movie is left in the background. “As roommates?”   He shrugs. “There’s only one bedroom, but sure.”   A studio apartment. One bed shared. Two people.   Watching movies. Having sex. Eating together.   It doesn’t sound bad to you whatsoever, but you contemplate it. It swirls around inside your head and you murmur, “Isn’t that breaking the rules of being friends with benefits?”   And you don't know why but Wendy’s words from the other day are echoing inside the caverns of your brain at the worst moment. “You know, your relationship with Jimin isn’t exactly normal.” You weren’t sure what she meant and you still don’t know. Not when she had advertised and encouraged this kind of arrangement all those years ago. When she had told you many people got involved in each other like this.   But you’re starting to wonder if something is off.   Did you do something wrong? Did your relationship with Jimin spiral out of control? But everything feels normal.   After three years, you’d think you would’ve mastered the art of benefits by now.   You sigh, getting a headache. Yet, Jimin merely shrugs.    As if the definitions and boundaries don’t bother him whatsoever.    “Is it?”   “Kind of. I mean, living together, being mutually exclusive. It almost sounds like….”   “Like what?” His brows lift. “Like we’re dating?”   You feel hot in your face, skin toasted like a furnace. Maybe you’re being delusional or silly. Maybe he’s going to laugh at you. “This is what couples who are going to get engaged do.”   “Maybe we should date then…?” The pitch of Jimin’s voice raises at the end, not necessarily a question but neither a statement. It’s questionable like he’s unsure how you feel. Like he’s playing a guessing game. And then he smiles at your shocked expression.   Jimin turns to face you fully. His gaze is heavy, earnest. “Maybe we should date.”   This time, it’s repeated as an assertion.   Confident. Unwavering. Sincere.   Jimin leans in to kiss you as if he can’t resist anymore. It’s tender, taking you off guard and you lean into him, finally allowing yourself to become surrounded by him. Mind. Body. And soul.   When the two of you pull away, he smiles while catching his breath. “I-I’m down if you are. This apartment can be yours and you can study here and sleep here and whatever. We can eat together and I’ll buy you take out or cook. It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’m cool with anything. We can keep being friends with benefits, if that’s what you want….so…......what do you want?”   You exhale lightly, feeling warm. “This...is a lot.”   “Is it?” Instantly, Jimin appears panicked and you hold back a laugh. “We’ve technically been together for three years and...what we’ve been doing recently is basically dating. In my opinion.”   “Did Wendy put you up to this?”   “No.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, the person I talk to most these days is you. And I like it that way.”   God, you hate him.    You pull Jimin in for another kiss, an aggressive and eager one. Enough that you can feel the heat off of his own face. You move to straddle his thighs and when you break apart, you muster a glare at him. “You know, I’ve been trying so hard not to catch feelings. You’re ruining all my efforts, you know that, Park?”   He grins. “Is this a yes?”   “It is.” This time, he’s the one to kiss you, sealing your lips together as he smiles against your mouth and squeezes giggles out of you. Even if he doesn’t say it, even if he’s saving it for another day, you know from his tender touches that he loves you. And it’s mutual.   No longer do you need to worry — leave right after the deed is done or be panicked when you’ve accidentally fallen asleep in his bed. You’re unashamed when he kisses you harder as a greeting, when he holds your hand, when you go out together. You can have pillow talks without needing to guard yourself, cuddle him, call him yours.   And when Christmas arrives, meaning sweater weather and snow dusting from the sky, you have someone to keep you warm. Someone who you can come back to and call your home.

[elpercotreviews]

My Anime 9/10′s

With probably no spoilers cuz I don’t wanna talk too long about them zzz.

1. Fullmetal Alchemist

YALL ALREADY KNOW THIS A 9/10. The only real reason this show is not a 10/10 is because it’s just a story that I’d never rewatch. There’s like 70 episodes, which is way too long for my short attention span, especially since I’ve seen it already. But yeah, by all accounts, this story is a masterpiece and is one of the only “shounen” anime’s that I genuinely enjoyed. No random sexualization. No dumb filler. All the characters have an actual purpose and role in the plot and everyone has their own morals and ideals that interact to make the story interesting. I couldn’t bring myself to really hate anyone, even the villains, because everyone was pretty well written. Also super satisfying ending that ties up everything properly without leaving me confused or upset. If you only watch a few anime in your life, Fullmetal Alchemist is pretty much a MUST WATCH to see a beautiful example of a modern classic anime as an artform. Also I should say that I really don’t like Hunter x Hunter (AN EXTREMELY CONTROVERSIAL OPINION BTW) but I love Fullmetal Alchemist so take from that what you will.

2. Parasyte: The Maxim

Same kinda shit where you already know this a 9/10 for me. It’s just a very satisfying anime that doesn’t have random sexualization or random filler or anything like that. Ending is also very good and ties up the story in a way that doesn’t leave more questions but also allows the characters to have a “life” outside of the scope of the story. I think Parasyte, because of its more horror and psychological-esque vibes, counts as a seinen and not a shounen, so for more mature audiences. I also really liked how the story was successfully adapted to modern times since the manga is from the 80′s. I have actually rewatched this anime, but what stops me from giving it a 10/10 is a few things that I found kinda “stereotypical” that I don’t wanna discuss further too much cuz it’s spoilers. I still obviously really like this anime and highly recommend it.

3. Zankyou no Terror

TBH, this anime is pretty hard for me to properly describe in a lot of words as to why I like it. The art was really pretty as well as the music, which was just straight up amazing. The cinematography of this anime is excellent as well, and a lot of scenes have that sense of being acted out by real people, as opposed to feeling completely drawn/animated. I was a teenager when this anime came out and I think a lot of the themes presented in the show really related to me. The show does kinda have some leftover questions when it ends that prevents me from rating it a 10/10, but I have such a soft spot for this anime. It’s from the same creator as Samurai Champloo and Cowboy Bebop, and although those two animes are also very good, they did not impact me as much as this anime did. Recommended for people looking for idk something that gives off Inception vibes?? In the sense that it’s much more about its themes and its message more so than the believability of the events that occur.

4. Magic Kaito 1412

THIS IS JUST A PERSONAL PREFERENCE BTW LOLOL I DON’T KNOW ANYBODY WHO’D PUT THIS AS A 9/10 ANIME. I JUST REALLY LIKED IT OKAY. It’s made by the same person who does Detective Conan but I like this a lot more because it’s a much shorter series and slightly more mature (more for teens than just straight up kids). I really liked the main guy, I think he’s funny and charismatic. He’s a pervert at times but Imma forgive that cuz of the 90′s. Idk it’s just a really fun anime that I don’t have to take seriously and can just watch and enjoy.

5. Mob Psycho 100 (season 1 AND 2)

Imma put season two as slightly better than season one. So season one would be like a 9 and season two is like a 9.25 for me. Super super funny anime and I like it SO much more than One Punch Man. I liked that there was a good balance of serious moments, but you can definitely still count this anime as a comedy. I’m typically not the type to watch “comedy” but this anime genuinely had me laughing out loud, while also crying and freaking out right alongside the main character. The main guy is super great because he’s just this shy and sweet middle schooler, and it’s really interesting watching him balance trynna have a normal life while also using his powers for good and such. Apparently the anime was decently faithful to the manga and there’s apparently enough material for a third season so I’d be pretty stoked for a season 3, but season 2 ended on a pretty good spot and was satisfying. TBH, if I had the time, I’d probably rewatch both seasons and bump it up to a 10/10.

6. Vinland Saga

This anime is just the first season of what I hopes to be a whole series that will be stay beautifully and faithfully adapted from the manga. As someone who read very far into the manga (but quit like years ago simply because I hate slow updates lol), I actually didn’t enjoy watching the anime at first. I was impatient and kept waiting for when like the “major” events would happen. So I watched like three episodes and quit. But when I had some free time, I decided to get stuck in and commit to watching the whole series and I was so pleasantly surprised with just how good it was. I was impatient but I needed to realize that there is no “filler” or like “wasted time” in the entire anime. I hadn’t read the manga in years, so so many things were only vaguely familiar but I think this helped me stay surprised and excited throughout the anime. I’m looking forward to the rest of the manga being adapted because it’s just a good Viking saga lolol. Major themes of stuff like growing up, violence vs. peace, what it means to be a good person, etc. Lots of blood and LOTS of violence like a LOT they are VIKINGS CMON but tbh not really any gore which I liked cuz gore makes me ughhhh. A very good watch and only a taste of an excellent story.

7. Demon Slayer

It’s just Demon Slayer duhhh. Of course this a 9/10 for me. I don’t wanna write much just cuz the show is so popular. Just read a REAL review of this anime somewhere else lmaoooo. Also yes I did watch the movie in theaters and yes I liked it a lot as well mmkay. I’m mad hype for season two. My S/O doesn’t like Demon Slayer as much as me, but also has Hunter x Hunter as their all time favorite anime. Do with that information what you will lolol.

8. Attack on Titan Season 3 Part 2

Same shit as Demon Slayer. Just go read someone else’s review about why it’s so good lol. Also, unlike Mob Psycho 100, I can’t include all of the seasons in this, because I have very various opinions about how good/bad the other seasons were. But this season 3 part 2, was just plain and simply amazing. While I might not like each season equally, as a whole Attack on Titan is also a modern masterpiece of storytelling. Read the manga if you can.

9. Great Pretender

I love this anime so much. Such a good and fun wild ride. The whole show is ridiculous but in a fun way. I’m a HUGE fan of heist films, so of course I absolutely enjoyed a heist anime. I’ve watched this show in sub AND dub, due to the fact that everyone is “technically” speaking English the entire time. If you’re a purist, just watch in sub OR dub cuz I did get confused here and there, especially when I would go back to compare language discrepancies.  Because basically I did this super high maintenance thing where I switched back to Japanese whenever the main character had flashbacks, since he’s ya know, Japanese. The dub also has this confusing thing where the first five minutes or so are still in Japanese, but switches to English when a little cue card on the screen goes “For the Viewers sake, everything from now on will be translated to Japanese.” It’s cuz in the sub, the inverse obviously happens where the characters are initially speaking broken English to each other, but for convenience sake, everything from that point on will be in Japanese. It’s confusing at first but I liked it cuz it just proved the whole international vibe of the show. It’s funny either sub or dub when they joke about how bad the main guy speaks English, cuz in the dub he’s speaking perfect English, while the sub has him not speaking English at all. But anyway, great anime that WOULD have gotten a 10/10 if not for the last episode. Like without spoiling ... WTF WAS THAT LMAOOOO. The anime as a whole is super wacky and zany but at least I could try to think it’s real life, but that last episode was just so unbelievable and bizarre and pulled my suspension of disbelief into the STRATOSPHERE that I just had to convince myself that this show takes place in some improbable alternate reality where something like what happened in the last episode is at least 5 percent possible CUZ HOW DID ANY OF THAT WORK LMAOOO??? Once again, great show, one of my absolute favorites, BUT THAT ENDING THOUGH WTF.

10. BNA

Good super underrated anime that I don’t hear people talk about at all. If Beastars is anime Zootopia, then BNA is Disney Beastars lmaooo does that make sense? It’s a lot more fun and zany than Beastars and I liked it way more. Made by the same people who made Kill la Kill. I really like that more classic, animated “cheap” art style that the anime has, and I also really liked the plot of the story. Not a 10/10 cuz the show does leave a few unanswered questions at the end of it, but this show was such a fun and interesting ride. When I finished the last episode, I was left with a big smile on my face because I just genuinely enjoyed this anime. Recommended if you wanna watch something a little unique and more on the silly and wack side. Talks about some serious stuff, but luckily the show never takes itself TOO seriously, and remains overall lighthearted for a fun action/sci-fi show.

[sugar-petals]

Treats For You (M)

↳ PAIRING: yuzuru hanyu × reader

↳ PLOT: You tend to a nervous Yuzu the night before a skating competition.

↳ WORD COUNT: 9k | one shot | domestic au, smut

↳ WARNINGS ⚠️ pwp, dom/sub, feeding yuzu treats, pegging, some very wet oral (m giving), cum play, oh lord it gets graphic, fingering, crying, mommy kink, yuzu’s crazy back arch, rough sex, masochism, aftercare, some asthma talk

↳ CARO’S NOTE: inspired by this juicy gif. PS: since i usually post for other fandoms — if you’re unfamiliar with yuzu, visit this intro post. 

Just two minutes after you switch off the light, he starts fidgeting. 

Repeatedly, all while messing around with his pillow. Soon enough, the blanket you share becomes all disheveled. 

You turn your head towards the window to check. All as usual. The blinds are perfectly drawn to shut out the moonlight. Meanwhile, the humidifier infuses the air in gentle ten-minute intervals. Not even the heater is bumbling tonight. Yuzuru keeps on rustling beside you, still. Some of his plushies fall off the bed, one after the other.

Of course he can’t sleep. It’s daunting, no precaution ever helps. The blanket couldn’t be any more crumpled up at this point.

„I’m so nervous,“ he finally sits up another minute later, causing the duvet to lift. A little sigh follows.

Eventually, you turn in the sheets yourself, now facing him. Or rather, what you can vaguely make out as his crouching silhouette.

„Hey,“ you mumble from your left side of the bed. „You watched all of the performances from last month.“ You pat Yuzu’s pillow, hoping he would sink down on it again. „At least twice. Or more.“

God knows for how many hours he stretched in front of the TV on his spongy blue yoga mat, reviewing mountains of footage with a furrowed brow worthy of a restaurant critic.

Every jump and every turn, analyzed over and over. Down to the millimeter. Even the costume got its fair share of scorn. Too wide there, this detail on the collar could be different, that part gets in the way while doing spins.

„It’s all— I don’t know what I’m lacking these days.“

The silhouette doesn’t look like it’s headed to lie down again for the time being. You reach toward your bedstand’s squiggly designer lamp. After fumbling about in the dark, you find the bulky switch at its bottom. On goes the light again. Perhaps a bit too bright, both of you squint hard.

„It’s not like you’re dropping to second place anytime soon.“

Given how you thought you could call it a day before Yuzu started to fidget, maybe your voice is not fully resonant yet. It still carries a little unspoken ‚…right?‘ with it. 

As soon as you finish the sentence, you feel how he can pick up on it already. The humidifier dryly comments by puffing out a cloud of lavender steam.

„I don’t really know,“ Yuzu retorts twisting, going into a deep shrug. He is completely sunken now.

„Looks like a simple big hug won’t do, hm.“

Yuzuru ends up nodding. It’s more knowing than admitting. But you don’t like the sense of resignation that comes with it, at all. The problem goes a little deeper than just motivating him with the stats he ironically already knows, times better than you, even.

It’s been going on for the entire day. The last time he made such a grouchy face at his videos was around Christmas. Back then, he couldn’t quite get the jumps right at the start of his routine. But now? His scores are just fine. Not to mention the jumps.

„I didn’t think you were lacking,“ you say. „You just fell once during training.“

And that was because he was fooling around during a break, not in the serious exercises.

„Sorry for bothering you,“ he buries his face in the blanket, beginning to ruffle his hair all over the place. Frustrated Friday-evening-Yuzu always does that, but the energy doesn’t seem to go anywhere this time.

The murmur of his stomach isn’t hard to miss either. You lay your hand on Yuzu’s back.

„Is it because you didn’t eat?“

You wonder what he had for dinner.

Only more guilty stomach growling reaches you as a reply. Figures: He skipped it, and lunch, too. His breakfast was so frugal, you don’t even remember whether he had his milk or not. 

Yuzu was already pacing around in the living room at that point. Recalling the tricky parts of the upcoming choreography, treading his feet into the carpet, humming the steady rhythm of his skating program.

„Maybe I’m turning into a snickers diva,“ a muffled little comment emerges from where his chaotic hair sticks out from the duvet. At this point, his face is all buried there.

„I mean. If you allow me to baby you…“

Three minutes later. You rub your eyes, shift from leg to leg. The kitchen floor is as cold as ever so you regret not putting on socks. Meanwhile, there’s no problem raiding the fridge. 

You could go to the grocery store five times a day and buy everything Yuzu’s mouth waters over — it’d still be stacked to the top. Snacks, veggies, particular sports drinks in weird blue colors, Japanese pickled plums, gyoza left-overs, salad, various fizzy drinks, mostly lemonade.

It’s like that with any food. Out of sight, out of mind. He won’t bother getting up from the yoga mat if he’s fixated on the TV.

After making two distinct picks and checking whether the fridge door closes properly, then bustling at the sink with a towel, you trot back to the bedroom. Equipped. In the meantime, Yuzu has recollected his plushies from the floor, gently aligning them next to his pillow. 

They’re all in their strictly defined place again. You enter just the second after he’s arranged them in the usual half-circle order, centered around his favorite, all-time friendly-eyed Winnie Pooh bear.

„Will you look at that,“ you plant your little kitchen conquests onto the bed, rousing approval noises from Yuzuru who sparkles right at the box and plate you brought along. The grouchy face dissolves, curiosity takes its place. His food reactions will always be the cutest to you.

„Strawberries!“

„From the market. Wasn’t too expensive.“

Freshly doused in the sink, plump and very ripe.

„And rice cakes!“

Truth be told, there couldn’t be a bigger comfort food on his list and you shamelessly exploit the very fact.

„Every competition has a victory meal. Here, fruits first.“

After plopping down on the mattress yourself, you pick up one, then two strawberries. Immediately, Yuzu’s little upturned mouth opens wide as if a tiger baby was yawning. 

He chews more eagerly than you thought. If you pass him pretzel sticks while he reviews things on the TV, he barely eats one or two of them.

„I like these,“ he swallows, prying for the next fruit in your hand already. „Sweet!“

„Tastes best with cake,“ you rearrange your sitting position, making sure to park your cold feet next to Yuzuru’s very warm ones. His toes are readily brushing against yours, Yuzuru perhaps not even noticing they do. He’s too fixated on the little cakes. In all things he does— focus incarnate. He can’t help it.

„Yes, I wanna try!“

You rummage in the packaging you brought along, draw forth a first treat. A second one you set aside on the plate. Tiger baby opens his mouth even wider, in goes the first chunk of the rich delicacy. Lord have mercy on his stomach, it’s 11:15 PM. But what’s normal to him, anyways.

Ten more minutes pass. After the strawberry box is two thirds empty and three juicy rice cakes have embarked on their last journey, Yuzu looks a lot more content than before, even if his bedhead arguably makes him look like a mad scientist. Junior professor Yuzuru Hanyu, escapee from his genius lab that exploded in a blaze of smoke. 

You take it as your task to brush the outlaw strands back into their place with your fingers after pulling out a wet wipe — those with the way too astringent citrus flavor— from your bedstand, cleaning your hands off the rice. It’s not like your hands aren’t sticky on the regular.

To your satisfaction, Yuzu looks like a swaying cat, nestled into his blanket. With no more stomach growling audible, gladly. You put the plate on the bedside table, lean forward to kiss his belly, and shoot him a fracture of an ambiguous gaze.

„So… Fancy getting even more stuffed?“

„Sure! Is it a surprise?“ Yuzu looks around, presumably searching for more food you brought along.

The pure soul.

„Well, we already had dessert.“

„Oh, right! But, what’s the food, then?“

A little pause follows. Yuzuru couldn’t look any more thrilled. You decide to go with it.

„You’re too innocent,“ you lower down your pants by an inch, thumbs demonstratively hooked into the hem. You raise your eyebrows into a question that he cannot miss. „If you want. You might wanna grab your spray first, though.“

Only the last part fully registers in Yuzuru’s expression that finally goes from curious to… sheepish. He caught on.

Asthma spray at 11:30 PM is a cue he’s gotten familiar with over the last four months. Not in a million years did he think he’d ever have to use it late at night. Whatever decision process is rattling through Yuzu’s brain right now, it’s a fast one, though.

„Ha— okay!“

„Alright, Yuzu.“

„Just once second!“

Food round number two, it is. You kick off your pants and underwear but make sure they don’t land any place where plushies are. Yuzu is already busy at the other end of the room, visibly at work with shaky hands, browsing the cupboard with meds next to the window.

Now that he’s double nervous, you curse your idea, but remind yourself of the last late-evening time Yuzu had his head between your legs. ‚I dunno, I was just concentrated‘ are the words that stuck with you after asking him how on earth he kept his breath for what felt like 45 seconds. 

Whatever masochist devil has been driving him, it gave your boyfriend skills you never even knew were possible to have out of absolute nowhere. Not to mention how easily it distracted him from anything else in the world.

Maybe that focus is an effect easy to replicate, you think. Anything that can take his mind off the competition tomorrow is worth trying.

Carefully, you move over to the right side of the bed. Then, recline on Yuzu’s pillow — on his explicit wish two months ago, you meticulously keep that tradition — and feel surrounded by plushies already. 

Back then, Yuzu insisted that he shouldn’t be the only one watching out for you when you’re having sex. And that the pillow just smells really good of your hair afterwards. So there you lay, feeling all kinds of horny. Given that Yuzu is already returning to the bed, swiping his hair off his forehead. Looking very refreshed, letting his breath play. Sexy.

And there it goes already. The I dunno, I was just concentrated gaze. You arrange your legs wide enough for Yuzu to settle in the middle, him still sitting upright. His hands are still shaky when they reach around your outer thigh, but his eyes don’t lie to you in the very least.

„Your breath alright?“

A little nod, but he doesn’t heed the question for any longer. There’s gladly nothing that his lung doctor can’t figure out. You count on that, but asking doesn’t hurt.

Meanwhile, Yuzu’s eager eyes are already drawn downwards. Getting bigger and bigger. The surprise he had anticipated in fact now dances over his face, flighty and polite, but nonetheless apparent to you. He’s smiling, and it looks shy in the light of the bedstand lamp.

„I, ah…“

It’s as if he hasn’t seen you naked before, every time. For whatever reason, Yuzu always reverts to virgin mode with his first glance. You admit it’s flattering and amusing alike, but also — leaves you with Hitchcock level suspense. 

Yuzuru has proven himself to be an expert in summoning a beginner’s zeal, an almost childlikeness. That keeps you on your toes and promises an intensity that routine and pragmatic energy management could never give you.

After letting his eyes linger a little more, his lips become visibly impatient. He’s already licking them. You’d promised food, and he takes it seriously. That Yuzu’s fingers stroke rather weirdly at your thighs does not escape your attention either. They’re practicing.

„Help yourself, touch.“

The stroking ceases. Yuzu doesn’t hesitate to reach down with his left. How he touches you sends a row of tingles down your legs. His fingertips are amazingly dainty and soft. He explores. Then, soon keeps on caressing about, leans his head forward, all still from his seated position. It doesn’t take too long until he goes straight to getting you off with his right hand.

„This is, wow,“ he mumbles to himself, already immersed in rubbing your clit. Going in circles, taking his time. Alternating between index and thumb.

„Yeah. That’s the spot,“ you shift in the pillow, eventually finding a good position to relax. You exhale, focus on his hand.

„So smooth,“ Yuzu traces his joining left hand up and down your labia.

„Maybe someone wants a taste?“

You were right that he would forget practically anything else. The yoga mat worry brow is blown off his face. Substituted by— appetite.

„Not just maybe, actually.“

Spreading your legs a little more is invitation enough to have Yuzuru lower his head onto your pubic bone, tongue already searching for its favorite place. Your fingers gently interlace in his hair as soon as he starts sucking. Keeping his bangs out of his eyes.

How unafraid to bury his face he is you soon get to witness. You can feel the bridge of his nose glide from lip to lip, and the feathery light brush of his lashes at the base of your inner thighs. 

Yuzu’s tongue has always been cheeky, but today, it feels particularly adventurous and slippery. He can’t help but fumble about with his hands simultaneously. Beginner’s zeal, you knew it’d come.

The bucking of your hips comes too naturally to be controlled. Nor does Yuzuru know just how to hold his head back from thrusting. This little shit. Whatever is in those rice cakes, it made him a new level of keen. Soon enough, his tongue has riled you up plenty, and his focused eyes have become entirely monotone. Only preoccupied with one thing and one thing alone. 

Just how much he dedicates his attention has to be a thing for the books. You feel like blowing up and moaning like crazy at this point, but manage to at least puff out. He knows you’re way too close. There’s a little smile you feel in the way he eats you.

„So that mouth gets a cum filling,“ you twist your fingers out of Yuzu’s wild hair. It’s all tangled again. The return of the mad professor. He has all the space in the world to bop his head as much as he wants now. One, two, three plushies fall over and tumble around the mattress. He doesn’t notice.

The warmth between your legs has been growing ceaselessly. Now, ready to brim. With Yuzu’s agile tongue slipping back and forth over your clit in erratic intervals, you feel like losing your mind with every lick. The way his lips excite you gives off the lewdest sucking noises. All wet, and resolute like a chess player not to drop you off that high. 

He keeps his laps consistent, leans in more, and eventually— tips you off the edge with a fast sequence of letting his tongue dip under the hood of your clit. And letting it stay there, all until your legs start twitching. You groan out.

Yuzu gets a big. Fat. Cum filling indeed.

Your breath goes short, you grab his shoulders. Growling, cursing. Trying to ride the wave, but the contractions catch you harder than you thought. You can practically feel how much you ooze out and ruin his face. 

Bratty he is, Yuzuru forms his mouth all kissy and pecks your clit through every throb. Until the shockwaves subside, letting your shaking thighs off the hook eventually.

Too fucking intense. The surge of pleasure keeps on making your mind hazy long after your orgasm is over. To add fuel to the fire, Yuzuru rubs his belly, as if he just had two happy meals for the price of one.

Pulling off, his face is all bright and slobbery in its remaining smile. His lips are cum-glazed, and more than just plain sweat trickles down his nose. Nothing better than a facial right in front of twenty plushies. Who knew Winnie the Pooh himself would ever be eye witness to Yuzu’s sporty head game. 

Friendly bear he is, it doesn’t seem to bother him. From unsuspecting comfort teddy on Yuzu’s lap 23/7 to live-action porn audience. First row, no popcorn though, but HD sound quality and claims to free spit. The guy is living his absolute best life, isn’t he.

„You… growling. That was pretty hot,“ Yuzuru says. His jaw is hanging all loose and most of his speech is slurred. Yuzu looks all satiated. In your mind, you pat yourself on your own shoulder. Boyfriend corruption: almost complete.

„Like being spoiled? I want you to clean that up.“

Yuzu squeaks out giddy in reply. A moment later, he goes back to lean down again, swallowing and licking up cum from your drenched, swollen lips. His slurping noises are indulgent, wet, and desperately slutty. He succeeds in cleaning you up, but keeps on messing up himself even more. Yuzuru delights in rubbing his whole face into your dripping pussy until his eyebrows are sticky, his lids and cheeks are damp, and you feel capable to get up from the pillow.

Despite not being underneath the blanket, you notice that your feet aren’t that cold anymore.

He sits on the bed like a mermaid, huddled close to you. Normally, he would visibly sort his thoughts like that, but now, all he does is blink and nuzzle up against you with his forehead. 

Settling, Yuzuru doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands and you take it as a chance to pepper them with kisses. The back of the hand, the palms, the wrists. It calms you, and it calms him.

You feel entirely drenched, refreshed and relaxed at once. How Yuzuru cuddles against your legs makes your heart warm, and the moment is blissful.

One lavender steam cloud later, you feel like moving again. Maybe there are two restless people in this relationship. The thought of it is funny.

„We could go on a little more,“ eventually, you pat his head. „With something different if you want.“

„Do you still have energy?“ he asks. His breath is somewhat slowing already. It feels hot against your leg.

„More than before, actually.“

He sits up. Looks like you surprised him again. Little does Yuzu know how much he shakes you up.

„Really?“

You nod, twirling at his bangs now.

„I have an idea. So… you remember what’s been waiting in a box for a month.“

You can tell he knows exactly what you mean. No doubt he didn’t take very long to recall it, either. That tells you something.

„Can we use it?“

That answer was fast.

„It’s what I’ve been thinking.“

„We’ve been putting this off but I’m still curious.“

And your guess was correct. It’s definitely been on his mind.

„Yeah, you’re right.“

Promptly, you direct your eyes to the bedroom cupboard to your far left. The one containing various kinds of skating blades in slender packagings, tracksuits in dark colors, fan presents, and mail orders. Among them, a larger jet black box—

That neither Yuzu nor you dared to open given it was a product of a reckless button click at 2 PM.

Admittedly, after Yuzu passed you a way too expensive bottle of sake that he got for his birthday. Since he’s allergic to alcohol, somebody thought she could give it a sure try instead. Pouring $200 into the sink would have been the better option.

Said black box soon sits between the two of you, wide open to reveal the truth of what sake can do.

„Oh man. What have I done.“

That button click comes back to bite you big time.

„This looks, I think, realistic—?“

At least on the surface.

Of course, you drunk fool had to order the ‚sculpted, real-life imitation‘ version. You couldn’t be any more embarrassed. No more alcohol in this flat, that’s for sure. What else to do but take it in stride now that the box is already open, though.

„I uh, think so. At least with the veins.“

„It’s… it is really big.“

At least three times Yuzu’s flaccid size if you don’t hallucinate right now.

„I don’t know how I’m not gonna tear you apart. How many inches are these, 12? My drunk self is too ambitious.“

Maybe you shouldn’t have used that word and said ‚reckless‘ instead. Because ambition surely and habitually triggers a prancing and posing Shia LaBeouf shouting ‚do it!‘ in Yuzuru’s athlete brain. You can see it in his eyes and already regret thinking out loud.

„We can still try.“

„If that’s a good idea or not we will probably see,“ you begin to inspect the contents one by one up close. „I think I bought a weapon.“

„Now I know why they call guns a strap,“ Yuzuru equally peaks over the edge of the box, looking like his future just flashed before his eyes.

„Next time I pass the sake to your coaches or something,“ you end up pulling out the red harness kit that glaringly lays on top of the contents. All looking very adjustable indeed. „That’s what my midnight fantasy seems to look like.“

„Uh—huh!“

Yuzu snakes his hand into the box himself now. Pulling out a transparent, orange-pink 13 oz bottle with a bubbly-looking fluid inside. Gaudy stuff, but a generous amount.

„Mister Lube. My new best friend,“ he says, laying the bottle aside and then pulling off his black PJ shirt. Although he strips quite leisurely, you can tell that Yuzuru is a little tense in his torso. That you will attend to in a minute, you think. But beforehand, you let your eyes roam for something else.

„They probably have something to clean it with in there as well. Let me see.“

You find that even if you might have ordered all this pretty tipsy, the toy set does have its quality. Just before you want to ask Yuzuru to warm up, he visibly ponders, then cleans his pajamas off the bed to make space for a little area.

„If you don’t mind, I stretch my muscles,“ Yuzuru puts aside a couple of plushies, too, but keeps Pooh close, assuming his typical pre-training stances.

He knows himself. That’s good.

„Tell me if you need help for the thigh stretching.“

In the meantime, you ease into the red kit and arrange the box contents on the bed. There seem to be fifteen things going on at once. If this would be public in the slightest, you believe the two of you must look like a bunch of eccentrics to anybody who’d watch you.

Ten minutes later, Yuzuru might just be in Olympic shape, has downed almost half a liter of spring water in one go. You know that he could probably deliver a quintuple jump on the spot if he wanted. The strap-on is all assembled, clean, and you have stored away the practically empty box of sake sinnery.

„I’ll skate cross-eyed and cross-legged tomorrow,“ Yuzu stares right at your crotch, face buried in his palms. Only his eyes peek through the fingers. „Godspeed to my ass.“

You sure as hell won’t disagree. This strap is a threat.

„I don’t know why I had to order supersize out of all possible things. You need a prayer circle after this. Where’s Mister Lube?“

„Here, over here,“ Yuzuru passes over the bottle, shaking it.

„I’ll relax you as good as I can, okay. Before I get arrested for possession of weapons without a license.“

And annihilating Yuzu’s insides with that XXL dick that he sure as hell doesn’t just want halfway in. Lord have mercy. You can only shake your head at yourself for buying this.

„Honestly though. Does it really fit in?“

Yuzu leans his face toward your hip, now on all fours, taking the sight in. He still can’t believe his eyes.

„We’ll see. Let your body decide, not your pride okay,“ you poke the tip of the strap-on into his left cheek. Hoping that it takes away some of the tension, at least. „And you can still tap the mattress.“

„Okay. Tap the mattress.“

He nods quite avidly. Same protocol as always. No spoken safewords, only something that Yuzu can make use of with his reflexes. Speech? Nothing you can both count on as soon as horniness kicks in. 

You tried that for the first two weeks and quickly settled for tapping instead. Especially because Yuzu likes to have fingers in his mouth every so often.

„I mean. You just did like five splits, didn’t you. Warm-ups always help. If your ankle doesn’t fall off?“

That mini workout was more than just impressive, in fact. And still, you eye Yuzuru’s notoriously injured foot. The slim little fella has a long history of recovery behind him.

„The ankle is decent, the usual stuff.“

„I wish we had a smaller toy to start out with,“ you scratch your head. That might be the one thing that’s been missing from the box. „We still have Mister Lube, anyway. Watch this,“ you pick up the orange bottle, flipping the cap open. „It’s actually scented! Worth ruining the bed if you ask me.“

On goes the fluid, you rub it all across the length of the dildo. Must be cherry flavor or something. Yuzuru sure makes big eyes.

„I knew I could count on Mister Lube.“

„Yeah, we use lots. And I’ll be very gentle.“

The cherry scent is gladly much less tacky than the bottle itself, not too artificial-smelling either. You squeeze out a second load and distribute it over the strap-on just to be sure. Yuzuru’s breath goes faster.

„Can I ask something beforehand?“

„Go right ahead.“

„I wanna suck first if you…“

Who knew. The lube probably made his mouth water.

Being honest, you think that it might be a good idea to get this going. Better than blowing his pretty back out right away and making a mistake, even if he is much less tense now.

„I don’t mind, Yuzu. You already have some chapstick on, right? Here.“

You level your hips to line up with his mouth more easily. You can tell that Yuzuru, after some heavy blinking, eventually braces himself. There’s nothing more telling than his tunnel vision plastered all over his face. His eyes, lids heavy, are hypnotized and seem darker. Yuzu’s bedroom gaze is the best in the world.

„Okay, I’ll start.“

A first kittenish lick. A second. A third. Then, brave lips — enclosing the tip. He audibly nips and swallows.

A few more licks, and repeat. Mister Lube seems to taste pretty good. You bless the shady company that manufactures the black box of sin for once. 

You let Yuzu explore, pump his hand around the shaft, lick from all directions he fancies. Compared to his wrist, the dildo doesn’t really fall short in diameter, but with Yuzu’s face up close you are relieved it’s not a complete David versus Goliath match. 

Soon enough, he musters the courage to open his mouth a little wider, cramming a bit more in than just the tip. You can’t deny you’re getting turned on again with the way he slurps and hums around your dick. With the minutes, he becomes bolder, moving his head.

Even if the lube gathers at his chin and seeps down to the bed, he keeps on sucking, now with a first pearl of sweat lingering on his forehead already. You’d never think it’d make him break a sweat. To be fair, he just did fifty jumping jacks in the warm-up.

„Want me to move?“

Two nods. You glide in, let your hips do the work how they want to. You don’t trust your online shopping choices, but your tempo, at least. Yuzuru is making all choked up noises trying to gobble up all the girth he gets, his fingers entangled in your harness. It keeps him in a steady place.

You can work from that, angle a few superficial thrusts into his mouth to get the saliva flowing. The blotch on your bed is already pretty nasty. The slow pace is apt enough to fill Yuzu’s mouth with spit bubbles that begin to foam out bit by bit.

After two more minutes of light back and forth, Yuzuru pulls off to speak.

„Please do it stronger. I don’t mind being hoarse.“

Not a second later, all he does is slurp up a very dripping shaft again. With difficulty jamming it in past the first few inches, but determined, anyway. You didn’t expect anything else.

Yuzu’s lips and eyes are all glossy by now. The portion of lube-infused spit has accumulated at his jaw already, soon to travel down to his throat. 

Stronger, he says. Why not.

„Okay, get ready.“

„M—hm!“

An abrasive jab follows a shallow one. If it wasn’t for the lube, your dick would scrape right down his upper throat. But this way, the first dip goes in with sufficient slip and slide, not leaving Yuzu with too much dick in his neck for long. All your strap-on does is bounce right back.

What you do hear is Yuzu’s gag reflex… claiming its rights. Still understated, but nevertheless there. After three more thrusts, you decide to stay about halfway balls deep, watching Yuzuru squirm, even try to shove in about an inch more by pressing his head forward. His breath is clean and deep through his nose. You put a checkmark on the my-boyfriend-has-asthma list in your mind.

„You look good with a dick in your mouth.“

What is supposedly a ‚thanks‘ ends up as gargling and choking. Yuzuru starts getting wet eyes at this point. Even a little bow of his head is something that doesn’t slip past your attention. Mannered guy, isn’t he. 

That praise makes him do the horniest noises is also something that you make a memo of. Along with seeing how it’s rendering him all aroused. You’ve seen those neck veins and red chin spots come out plenty of times to know.

A couple more thrusts are not a bad option, you decide. Although it seems that Yuzuru had the idea to hollow out his cheeks that very moment. The vacuum first makes your cock plunge in a little too fast than intended, then naturally pulls Yuzu’s head forward once you move your hips back again. 

It’s why the second thrust catches him off guard, flattening his lips and making your dick slide into his throat with air going in. Yuzu ends up choking hopelessly. It doesn’t look like he’s retreating his head in the very least, however.

Instead, you feel his hands grab at your either hip to secure himself in place. A glance from above, slightly angled sideward, shows you just how hard and throbbing Yuzu’s own dick is, tipping against his stomach. 

Once again, you make an impressed-my-dear face that he doesn’t overlook. His cheeks go hollow again and he keeps up the indulgent speed. Increasingly getting rougher and more pain-craving. Messier. Desperate. 

Yuzu opens his mouth wider not to have his teeth get in the way. It’s serious business now. His throat makes the most disgusting, grunting noises. Oh. Shit. Yuzu’s greed and sloppy lips make your body burn up. Soreness is the very least he’s headed for.

„Wow, Yuzu. Wow.“

It’s not something you didn’t know already. This man is without a singular doubt a lunatic. You whisper more praises to him, your hands grabbing hold of his head to sustain the movement rhythmically. 

Yuzu’s gag reflex has proven to only rebel every other thrust so you can pound away, at that time already giving up even the mattress that must be sopping wet to its core with Yuzuru drooling all over it. Too late for a towel altogether but fuck it.

Yuzu takes the choking well. He’s leaking spit all over, surrenders to your hands. Even if he doesn’t manage to deepthroat the entire length of the dick, he manages an awful lot of inches. By now, he’s gotten the hang of not letting too much air in. All while relaxing his muscles. 

Beautiful hums, chokes, little whines. Too bad your phone isn’t close by. Recording this has to be your very next bucket list entry. You’re glad he asked about this.

You go on thrusting for a few more times until you feel your hips going tired. Once his nose starts getting all runny, you naturally slow down even more. Eventually, you help Yuzuru pull his head off. His lips are all puffy.

„B—woah,“ it’s all he can moan and splurt out, and you help him wipe the glob of saliva and snot from his chin with your sleeve. 

Your pajama shirt might be ruined, but not as much as Yuzu’s tonsils. Who knows just how many times you were deep and fast enough to make them throb from all that friction. Seven, eight times? His food for tomorrow can be a light soup at best. Not even you were as sore after riding and sucking every last drop out of his dick last Monday. 

You’re glad he has the rice cakes going through his system right now. Poor onlooker Winnie the Pooh is probably traumatized by now. There’s only so much crazy dicksucking a bear can handle watching. And still, he gazes at the two of you— in good spirits as ever, cheeks big and bright. In a way, he looks like Yuzu in this very moment.

„How you like it?,“ you softly caress his pinkish lips. „I need to know how many stars to leave on the website.“

It takes a few moments until he can form words again. His speech is fast. He’s still staring at the dildo.

„It was in so deep and, and on my tongue. The dick veins, I could feel them. They were like, like, it was massaging my lips. And I almost thought I could swallow it.“

You raise your brows. Lord knows how deep your cock was inside his brain, but he still picks these things up.

„Attention to detail. Nice.“

Maybe 4.5 stars are a fair deal. At least for throat fucking. The rest — remains to be seen.

„Did I do well?“

His eyes widen. The question is genuine. It’s not something you’d think he would ask. Whenever he trained, he would always rely on his own judgment.

„Ask yourself first, you were the one feeling it.“

That’s not the answer he expected, and he ends up getting red cheeks.

„I liked it,“ he stammers. „Was really hot.“

„It’s what I saw, too. Good job, babe.“

He’s blushing even more now.

„Ah— I think I tried my best.“

You smile and cup his slobbery face. So you’ve taken his throat virginity in the most spit-heavy way possible. He looks cuter than ever.

„Listen. You’re a champ. If I could, I would cum deep inside of you.“

„I think, that would be romantic,“ his wet lips break into an upbeat smile. Yuzu’s eyes get all crinkly.

„You bet.“

A big doting kiss for Yuzu’s forehead is the only thing your brain can conjure up at this point, so you briefly lean down to do it. Maybe Shia LaBeouf is not just exclusively at home in Yuzu’s imagination. 

What you have to admit is that Yuzu’s overflowing athlete’s spirit has easily taken over your hips. You didn’t think you could move properly for that long. Maybe you still have some energy reservoirs left.

„And, and now?“

„I can stuff you with more dick. Up to you. Mister Lube didn’t run out yet. And if Pooh still likes watching.“

By instinct, Yuzuru’s hands snake behind his back to grip his ass, stroking what he knows is your delightful next target. You can tell by his eyes that there are a thousand scenarios going through his head.

„Pooh likes this… very much. He’s never seen something like that before. I think he is curious.“

It doesn’t take a Sherlock’s mind for you to know that he means— himself.

„I mean. I was surprised. If that monster fits into your little throat,“ you add, „anything is possible.“

That’s the final straw.

„I’ll do it,“ he says, moments later on all fours, face lowered and then rested sidewards on the bed, spreading his ass cheeks. Decision making when it comes to strap stuff is Yuzu’s forte, you jot that down in your invisible sex life journal. Not one bit of hesitation. By the looks of it, a very twitching entrance is waiting for you.

Testing period is over.

„Alright. I got something to drive home.“

Now that you think of it. If his ass is already only half as naughty as his mouth, you’ll need the help of a higher power.

„Shit. I think, it relaxes.“

At the expense of your mattress and blanket getting even more greasy with lube, you ease in the tip after massaging it into his sphincter. Yuzu’s ass still has to deal with that new sensation given how his leg muscles are going all bonkers. But indeed he’s grown receptive.

„Comfy like that?“

„B—big…“

„Attention, just a little tweak before I go on. Here.“

You softly press down on his spine with your palm entirely flat, and his back obliges immediately. His arch is leaving you breathless. 

Yuzu’s head and chest are snug and soft against the bed while his ass is far, far up. He smiles seeing you venerate his back, he didn’t miss your reaction in the least. No surprise a third of your cock gets sucked into his ass just moments later. It caught you off guard.

Judging by Yuzu’s little yelp and his eyes rolling back, the way you went right into him has found pleasure. The bedposts creak a little because Yuzuru’s legs are shivering. As is his voice.

„I love it, I lo-, please, my, my ass!“

„Can I move?“

„Yes, please!“

The arch did the trick. You love your boyfriend. What follows is a slowly plunging series of rewards, ten, eleven times, pulling at his gripping asshole until it surrenders into going loose. Yuzuru has almost accommodated a third of the length you’re engraving into his ass. You’ll definitely keep using that brand of lube.

„Here, babe. I got a present for your prostate.“

Yuzu is making your favorite lawless face when you hit the spot, controlling the base of the dildo with two your fingers going around it like a cock ring. He looks as if someone just handed him a trophy too big to carry. From his perineum, a thread of lube comes dripping down with a squelching noise. The poor sheets. It’s another virginity taken.

In the meantime, Yuzu grabs hold of the duvet with unsteady hands. His entire torso is nothing but a shaky mess. So erratic. And sweaty. And docile. And beautiful. You want to award him plenty, your little present from above, the jittery boy underneath you.

Pounding away and making him grit his teeth is worth heading for a mean cramp, you don’t care. Watching how your cock is plowing in and out of him at jerky angles with the absolute lewdest, bubbling noises recompensates for anything. 

Yuzu’s rolling eyes have become spaced out and teary, making him look like a crying saint about to enter the golden gates of heaven. Who knew angels had black hair.

With every stroke, his ass becomes every bit accepting to the point of almost glaring open to let you thrust in. Thank God. You compliment yourself on not falling short of the arguably lofty promise to relax him. Moaning Yuzu’s little ass is swallowing it all. 

By the time, his rectum is going hollow and sticky, welcoming every move of yours by giving you ample right of passage. During some thrusts, you don’t even see his sphincter hold on to the dildo at all. His ass is almost as dilated as his loose mouth itself. Your thrusts are working on their own again at this point. What instinct is propelling you, who knows. 

You love the sight and the happy squeals. You tease him with more speed. Not without effect, your hips lunge and aim deep all the more. You penetrate him far enough to start an excavation for ancient relics next Monday. With the tempo increasing, so does the chesty volume in his voice.

„It’s,“ he cries out, „in my belly! Ah! Ah, shit! Shit...“

You see Yuzu let go of the duvet with his left hand. It promptly darts way down to his abdomen where his fingers grope around.

„I can feel it,“ he whines, „It’s rubbing there, it’s a big bump!“

You sure won’t deprive your own hand from that sensation and reach right down, too. Which means leaning forward— and stuffing your strap even harder into his guts. Yuzu gasps out loud. Both your hands meet fondling about, cupping the sensitive area in search for the imprint of the dildo.

What Yuzu says is not understated. His slender little belly is all bulged out in the bottom quarter. Since he’s so thin, it’s almost scary how much your cock just dents him out and twists around.

„Jesus, Yuzu,“ you let your hand roam next to his, even lightly squeezing the area. It’s what really riles him.

What you thought was the maximum for him to take turns out to be nothing but a mere start. Yuzu is so obsessed to feel the bulge more that he starts bucking his ass onto your cock with the most unbridled voice cracks.

You can’t lie. His moans make your jaw drop. His usually so controlled body on the ice is now wrecking and writhing itself to get more dick. 

A thin line of sweat goes on a pilgrimage down his spine already. He impales himself more, gyrates his hips more, whines out more. You wonder how he keeps it together and doesn’t spritz all his cum over the bed and the floor tiles.

It’s the sheer force of will. Always hungry for the next level. You can’t help but admire how enduring he is. And that’s just the first time.

Yuzu’s feet have become agitated on the sheets, responding to every thrust by dangling and swishing around. Yesterday, his right ankle was all stiff and even a bit swollen. Now, it’s moving all over the place. Looks like doggy style is putting all the tension off the ligaments. It’s something else you take deliberate note of.

After five more thrusts and hearing his whimpers getting all drawn-out, eventually, you retreat for a break, letting your cock rest on his left ass cheek. Yuzu inhales, gathering himself. He looks at you with big, glazed bambi eyes. Maybe even a bit incredulous.

„Am I, am I gaping?“

You don’t have to check twice to know.

„All lose. If you knew how far I can see inside of you. Hole new world.“

„Y/N!“

He can’t hold eye contact now.

„Naughty, huh. But I like what I see.“

Goddamn great ass. You firmly smack Yuzu squarely across his right butt cheek. He twitches, clenches, bites his lips more. They tremble.

„Ah! You tease!“

„Want me to put it in again?“

Wild nodding. Looks like Yuzu’s usual voracity on the ice does an easy, albeit not entirely seamless transfer to bed, too. He still ogles what is about to stretch him out again with due respect. He still can’t fathom something this massive was inside of him, you can tell.

Once you start moving again, you notice his feet and thigh muscles violently jerking. His prostate has gotten all sensitive. Probably all spongy and large by now.

You decide to angle yourself differently and take a deep breath. Impossible to draw this out any longer. From the vicinity of Yuzu’s pillow, you grasp the Winnie Pooh plush toy and maneuver it into his awaiting embrace. He holds it tight in an instant.

With impatient hands, you fumble around the bed for the lube bottle until you find it next to his right foot. Two, three, four generous squeezes onto his asshole, not very accurate at all. Several fine, oily traces end up trickling down his inner thighs. You don’t even bother closing the bottle properly anymore. Too much adrenaline.

„Grab those sheets and Pooh, Yuzu, grab hard.“

„I got it!“

„Time I fuck you up. If you’re ready?“

„Yes, make me cum, make me cum! Please break my ass,“ he’s whimpering. So badly. „I want it! I want it all inside.“

Mister Lube has a last job to handle.

Yuzu has crammed three fingers into his mouth once you get a hold of his hair and deliver the last hard movements. He takes the blows all babbling and sucking himself off. How his ass is not completely falling apart by now is a miracle of nature. Or maybe, just the blessing of his daily training.

The room is heavy with the scent of sweat and cherries. He’s loosened his core so much that sliding in is not a question of you avoiding a cramp anymore, but technique. You feel focused to zero in and not miss the sweet, tender spot. It makes him mewl the first time you push your dick tip right into it. 

The second time, his eyes get big and fluttering.

„Please. Please, hurt me,“ he salivates, then eventually, grabs his plush harder. „Hurt me bad. I’m really begging you.“

Fast to oblige, you claw your hands around his waist and pull his body backwards. The ten nails digging into him are only the last needed set-up. The last jab comes in crisp, landing a severe and punctuated shock. Yuzu’s ass smacks up hard at your loins. The pain quickly snakes right up his spine and leaves his face contorted.

„Oh fuck…!“

Small, shaking Yuzu cums like fifty fireworks going off at once. Not even releasing his screams into the duvet really helps to mute out the heaviness of the first waves. You keep your cock right in place and let it buffer into his prostate at will. 

Yuzu’s legs kick and tangle under you like pasta in boiling water. He cries and groans and curses, and cries out even more. You can see his entire back muscles at work now, going like clockwork. His moans each sound so ecstatic, it registers as a different language to you. He spirals far into his orgasm, sobbing, and it looks beautiful.

„Amazing, Yuzu.“

His semen lands all over his sternum and the sheets, shooting out in several bursts, one more pumping than the other. It’s almost as if all that strawberry juice converted nicely into a blotchy, white fluid. 

His dick is still tensing up completely sensitive. Releasing cum, up until his legs stop going all over the place. Yuzu doesn’t let the sperm cool for twenty seconds that he already reaches down to pick it up, jerking his cock a last dozen times, only to bring to his mouth what his fingers collected. He sucks up all of it.

„Delicious, baby?“

„M—hm!“

„So nicely milked.“

His relished expression. You imagine that this must have been how the gods first tasted nectar.

While he licks away, Yuzu goes limp head to toe with you carefully pulling out your dick. Inch by inch. Not pulling. Only gliding.

Once you’ve removed the tip, he collapses into a sniffing, giggly puddle of serotonin. Crying, even when you lend him both your hands to lay his face into.

He’s so gorgeous. 

Breathing hard, sweaty, drooling and messed up. His body is so steamy and loose, splayed out all the way before you. His entrance has turned all pink so beautifully. Hot. As. Fuck.

Most psychologists would envy you for being able to gaze this far into Yuzuru Hanyu’s innermost clenching being. How his ass is going to close until tomorrow’s competition, you don’t know. 

Time to pray he won’t digest these savory cakes too fast. Then again, he didn’t eat properly at all. His body is probably soaking up all the fruit and rice in their entirety. 

You pat his lower back gently, making sure to lay him down into a sleeping position already. Pooh is right by his side. Yuzu’s legs are still so dangly.

He’s really let go completely. You’ve not fucked his ass, but his soul.

You want to thank him for trusting you so much. Beside the shady black box manufacturer. 

The bed is a glorious mess.

Removing the strap-on harness makes you feel just how loosened your own limbs have become, too. Come to think of it, this might be your new heavy-duty workout. None of your friends know you do this kind of cardio involving the best ass in the whole city as your personal trainer.

Yuzu’s butt has turned you into a drenched, wobbly homo sapiens that will probably look in the mirror by tomorrow and proclaim herself a bodybuilder from those sheer muscle burn gains. 

When the two of you show up at the rink tomorrow, you both need hunky guys carrying you in by the armpits or something. 

And the whole world will wonder how Yuzu’s wonky ankle magically recovered overnight but he can’t sit.

Changing the duvet at quarter past twelve with an unmovable Yuzu on top of it seems like a thing of the impossible. It’s soiled, it’s sweaty, it would probably make it to the first page if a reporter ever got hold of it. 

But you take it pragmatically and opt for sleeping on Yuzu’s cleaner side of the bed intertwined. It’s surprisingly dry there. Big laundry day tomorrow, anyway.

The only thing you manage to do is reach for the window to open and to grab a glass of water from the bedstand to share. He’s chugging the remaining half down in one go. His hands? Oh wonder.

More than steady.

He calmed completely. After he puts down the glass, you scoot closer to him.

„Your foot — better?“

„Oh? I didn’t even think about it.“

He wriggles his left leg back and forth underneath the blanket, then concludes with a surprised face:

„It’s turning pretty well? I think you hit a nerve. Maybe you should split me in half more often.“

He shrugs. Yuzu’s serious face while saying that so dryly makes you laugh.

„Looks like it,“ you draw out the open lube bottle from beside you, finally closing the lid. „Do you… need a towel?“

„I just need you. I have to be disgusting for once.“

„I’ll scrape that all off tomorrow before we leave. Hot shower, five tons of shampoo. I’ll be breaking out the stuff you clean your skates with if I have to.“

That makes Yuzu chuckle. In fact, he beams a little.

„Sounds like something to look forward to.“

„I hope you can walk, anyway. Is it painful?“

Your biggest sorrow at this point. Taking his mind off was easy, but now he’s got boneless legs. Your conscience nags you for dicking him down out of all possible things.

„You have your weapon license now. I gotta admit… the last one…“

…was ass destruction 3.0, you complete his sentence in your mind. It’s nothing a normal human being could have stomached. „I’ll manage, though. I still feel my legs.“

„God, how does he do it.“

A smug „He’s Yuzuru Hanyu, that’s how, aw yeah!“  is what you imagine God’s answer to sound like. But instead, all you get is a little smile. Very well, from the little God in your bed.

„Pooh did this. When I squeezed him, I knew I could take it.“

He reaches to the middle of the bed. Five consecutive head pats for the bear plushie and Yuzu looks content already.

„Winning medals with just one working ankle is the same as doing it with a demolished ass to you, huh.“

„It’s not demolished, it’s improved and overhauled,“ he smiles. „Never felt any better. It was really good how you did this.“

It’s his strangest sport philosophy yet. But if you know one thing, it’s that Yuzu’s bizarre body hacks have gotten him the podium every time. You can already see him asking for another strap round before your mind’s eye. Before the next competition, at least.

„You honestly blow my mind.“

„And your dick, tomorrow night,“ goes Yuzu’s cheeky winner grin. There it is. Insatiable how you love it. You already feel the need to google ‚hip thrust strengthening exercises’. 

Maybe, if science advances to that point one day, you honestly clone yourself so double your capacity. And so that you can spitroast him. Maybe you order another dildo from the website and pin it to the wall, anyways.

„Must be Mister Lube who did all of this.“

„I want to buy more of it tomorrow. Any other groceries we need, anyway? I’ll be cleaning the floor, too. I hope I’m not too worn-out after skating.“

„We’ll do one thing after the other, alright. There are still rice cakes left for breakfast, those will get you through the day.“

You’ve seen how much of an energy burst the cakes gave him. 

„I really like those,“ he mumbles, then nuzzles into the pillow, sucking in your hair’s scent. Oh, it’s the moment you waited for. „Snickers diva… happy.“

A very cheery, puffy face slowly comes to rest beside you now, hair going in all directions. Infallible and ever-returning: Professor Yuzu’s explosive hairdo. Pooh is all clingy at his chest. A little worn from all the squeezing, but still with an amicable chuckle. You smile from ear to ear. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

You kiss Yuzuru’s little nose and lips until he’s making sleepy sounds. Either this is a late-night mirage created by your very moan-tested ears, or he is actually purring. You make sure the Pooh plush resting at his chest faces him correctly, then clear away the remaining strawberries, shut the window, arrange the blanket, put on your pajamas properly.

The humidifier whirrs in the background while tiger baby does one last big yawn before drifting off. In a matter of two minutes, maybe even less than that. 

Just as you reach toward the bedstand to switch off the light, Yuzu’s hand curls into your shirt from behind. You turn, he is all dozed off. Not one leg fidgeting. However, talking in his sleep with his hand nestled into your PJs.

„Big hug please, Pooh mama.“

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. do not repost.  for entertainment purposes only. all portrayals fictive.

[skullsandwineglasses]

The Rebel Princess - Final Review (SPOILERS)

I tend to be quite critical right after I watch the finale of a drama since emotions are high, so my review might be a little harsh. My feelings might simmer over the next few days while I digest things, but for now, I’ll break down my impressions into 3 parts: The “Good”, The “Didn’t Make Sense”, and The “Could Have Been Better”. 

The “Good” 

The final scene. That’s the first immediate good thing that comes to mind. That’s probably the only good thing tbh. To be clear, these last 5 episodes weren’t bad. Everyone got their comeuppance, our leads live happily ever after, and Wang Su finally sees the light and goes against Daddy Wang by saving baby Jing’er. But, there were quite a number of things that frustrated me while watching. 

I will note one other good thing, which is that we got to see our favourite OTP act out a show to misdirect the rebels in hiding and lure them out. We finally get to see our leads collaborating and putting their smarts together! But, this meant that they had to separate again for the millionth time in this drama. And even though it was just an act, the fake confrontation scene between them still stung. As a trashy romantic, I wish we got to see more scenes of them together, especially towards the end of the drama. 

The “Didn’t Make Sense”

But because we finally get to see them work together, I wished we got to see more scenes with them plotting together. This is the first time that they’re working together to uncover a political plot, and yet it’s only relegated to one short conversation scene between them after Awu returns from meeting with her brother who refuses to tell her who’s behind the scenes pulling the ropes. 

ALSO, the drama never really addressed how Xiao Qi kind of handwaved Zitan’s involvement in the Neem Yu Shan plot. How did Xiao Qi go from “I need to have vengeance for my betrayed fallen soldiers” to “I need to help uncover the plot against the crown”. It’s kind of implied that Awu might have already told Xiao Qi about the truth before Song Huaien does, but the drama never makes that clear because we never see that scene if there was one. If Xiao Qi learns about the truth from Song Huaien first, does he then talk about to Awu? Again, we don’t know because it’s never shown to us. Instead, right after we see him learn about it from Huaien, it then immediately cuts to the confrontation scene with Awu. BUT, since this confrontation scene was revealed to be planned by them, it means that they’ve already discussed the Zitan problem in private beforehand, and Xiao Qi already knows that Awu knows, but we never see this conversation. It’s also revealed that they’ve long been suspicious of Huaien, but when did this suspicion start? Again, we don’t see this conversation. We just have to guess. 

This is just one example of how these last 5 episodes made it VERY obvious where scenes were deleted. A lot of scenes were cut abruptly where one scene would suddenly cut to the next, and you kind of had to infer what happened between those scenes. Things still made sense and you could still follow along, but you could tell that they cut out scenes that would have helped flesh things out and make the transitions smoother.

Villains: Nearly every villain in the drama (Jin’er, Zitan, and Song Huaien) turned back into their “good” old selves again during their downfall. And because of this, it made the finale of the drama pretty underwhelming. Jin’er expressed how she misses the old days to Awu and calls Awu one of the most important people in her life, Zitan sees the light and promises to yield the throne to his nephew and face punishment for his actions, and Song Huaien uses his last dying breath to ask Xiao Qi to take him back to Ning Shuo and how he doesn’t want to be in the capital anymore (when he literally has an arrow to the heart while sitting on the throne he just stole). These characters take an abrupt 180 degree turn when they’ve been blind with envy and hatred for most of the drama. Just moments ago they were shooting daggers out of their eyes, and then suddenly they regret everything they’ve done. Their downfall felt too easy, and their redemption felt even easier and unearned. And Awu forgives all of them (as expected). When she pitied Zitan, I was like, girl, he doesn’t deserve your pity. I get that she needs him to sober up in order to discourage the rebels, but still. He had his own brother killed and tried to have her husband killed. Instead she consoles him like a lost puppy. I know that Awu’s a saintly character, and I’ve talked about the virtues of her character before, but sometimes I wish she’d be a little less saintly. 

I think Daddy Wang’s final scene fit most well with his character. He’s defeated, but doesn’t entirely express regret for his actions. Which makes sense for his character. He’s never doubted his decisions all throughout the drama, so why would he start now. Even when Awu asks him if he ever loved her mother, he doesn’t answer her. Instead, he deflects the question back to her to ask if she loves Xiao Qi or Zitan, which is such a laughable question. How is Zitan even still considered a potential love interest for Awu at this point? In response, Awu tells him “此愛非彼愛”. Which I’m still trying to interpret?? To directly translate it, it would translate to “this love is not (comparable to?) love”. I’m having trouble interpreting  非 彼. 非彼 means “not comparable to”. Is Awu saying that this love isn’t comparable to another love? Is she saying that this love isn’t considered love? Love for whom? Is she taking about her love for Xiao Qi and how it’s not considered “love”. Does she mean what she feels for him is more than love, or different from love? Or, does she mean her past love for Zitan isn’t love? Why is her response so vague? Her dad asks her if she loves Xiao Qi or Zitan, and she instead gives him such a dense, poetic response. Maybe my mandarin isn’t up to par to translate these historical dialogues, so I’ll be curious to see how the subs translate this line. Anyway, in the end, Awu asks her father if he would agree to being buried next to her mother, and after ignoring the question for a bit, he finally says that he wants to be buried next to her.

The treatment of women: The Elder Princess and Yu Xiu both sacrificed themselves in hopes of getting their loved ones to stop rebelling. And then Awu pulls the same move with her father in order to remind him what her mother had done in hopes of stopping him. And this was after we see Hu Yao and Nanny Xu needlessly die in the previous episodes. So all these female deaths and sacrifices made it feel like the female characters in the drama are disposable and can be easily killed off by the writers. It just didn’t really sit well with me that on 3 instances in this drama, a female character tries to use herself as leverage against a male character who’s about to commit treason. I’m also still not over Hu Yao’s death at the hands of Song Huaien, and we never get to see a proper burial for her because she’s a minor character, so the drama couldn’t be bothered to show it. The Dowager Empress also had a very anticlimactic end. She was such a major player pre-episode 50, and then suddenly she was bedridden and only heard about palace news from her maid and wasn’t able to exert much influence over the court. It was a little disappointing that we don’t get to see her wield any of her old power again after episode 50.

The “Could Have Been Better”

This might be unpopular opinion but, I think Awu and Xiao Qi kind of lost their spark in the last couple of episodes, or at least, it’s more subtle now. Probably because the plot was focused on bigger things, which I understand. These are the final episodes after all. They’re also a long-married couple now, they don’t need to constantly reaffirm their love to us. And the final scene was sweet, so I shouldn’t be complaining, but I wish we got more scenes of them alone together. I said this in a reply on another post, but their sexual tension peaked during the early episodes of the drama. It’s too bad we don’t see that level of chemistry again.

Something that I found funny was how we see Awu stand next to Zitan by the throne twice to protect him. The setup was almost exactly the same between the two scenes where Awu stands to his right. It was like the writers couldn’t figure out a new configuration for how to block the scene. The first time was during the “pretend confrontation” with Xiao Qi, and the second time was against Huaien. I just felt the the repeat setup of this scene was kind of boring and uncreative to watch. It was like the writers couldn’t come up with another way to stage a potential rebellion, so we’ll just have Zitan be cornered around on the throne twice. 

Also, Huaien wanting to suddenly take the throne and also Awu as his Empress? First of all, I don’t understand why people, who don’t have the approval of the masses, always want to become Emperor. Do they not realize that by forcibly seizing power, you’re going to lose it just as quickly because no one likes you and they’ll try to take you down? I have the same criticism for Daddy Wang and Zitan. But does Huaien think that he has enough military power to become Emperor? And unlike Daddy Wang, Huaien doesn’t have any significant political impact over the lords. Also, does he think that Xiao Qi would just never come back? Second, him asking Awu to become his wife? We don’t really see him feeling tortured over his affection for Awu again since his wedding with Yu Xiu, and now suddenly, years later, it’s revealed that he still yearns for her? And he declares his love right after stabbing her dad? I mean, writers, please. I know you want to create drama, but it has to make sense.

To be honest, I’ve always found Huaien’s character arc a little hard to believe. He’s such a noble character for the first third of the drama, and then it’s revealed that he’s always secretly harboured a greedy side. A side that craves status and recognition. He then downward spirals into this monster who kills nannies and female comrades and wants to be emperor. We see small hints of his desire for the throne, like when he eyes Daddy Wang’s tailor-made royal robes. But this desire is not fleshed out enough. Huaien’s arc could have worked, but because the drama didn’t focus enough on his internal struggle at the beginning since he isn’t the main character, the change felt abrupt. I don’t know how the book handled it, so I can’t speak to that. 

Things just escalate so quickly in this drama. I can now see AvenueX’s criticisms about the political plot of this drama and how it looks like it could have be written by a 10 year old. The writers seem to want to make things as surprising as possible, while also using a lot of old tropes that it becomes predictable. It’s very unrealistic. And the villains’ motivations and ambitions seem limitless. It felt like anyone could lay claim to the throne. 

The political scheming in this drama has never impressed me, so I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised that these last few episodes were just as lukewarm. The problem with the political plot of this drama is that there were no smart characters except Daddy Wang. It’s just a bunch of drama queens(TM) who want power, but do a poor job of thinking things through. 

The highlight of the drama was the romance, which was a huge surprise since I didn’t start watching this drama for the romance. And yet, despite the romance being the highlight, the OTP is constantly being separated, and we barely got to see them together in the last few episodes. And the scenes that they did have together in these last few episodes weren’t memorable. If anything, their chemistry kind of fell apart during these episodes because we barely see them communicate directly with each other. 

Final Thoughts

Overall, I’d still recommend this drama just for the leads alone. You don’t see that kind of chemistry in idol dramas, and I don’t know when we’ll be able to see this level of acting between two well-matched actors in dramas again. Watching them is almost like a once-in-a-life-timeline thing. However, I think the average viewer might become frustrated with Awu halfway through. The drama’s also very bingeable (in fact it should be binged, instead of dragged on for almost 2 months). I think I would have enjoyed more if I watched all the episodes at once, instead of waiting for episodes as they came out every week, which meant that while waiting, I started to pick apart little issues that I had with the drama. 

[bookworm-2692]

For the ZE Ask Game: 1b, 1e, 2a, 3d, 5e, 5f and 5n!

Thank you for sending the asks! I love talking about Zero Escape so thank you for enabling me :D

Questions from here

1b: Favourite character design?

Okay, you know how hard it is for me to pick favourite characters because they’re all wonderful and that’s why you went with this question haha. Hmm. There are so many good designs (especially with the colour coding!!!). I prefer the designs in the first two games, since they’re really bright and colourful, and the third game is darker and dingier. I like that each character has a main colour that stands out and doesn’t really belong to anyone else (except for Dio and K who both have the red and gold aesthetics, but that’s valid because red and gold is a brilliant aesthetic). I think in 999, my favourite is actually Junpei’s - I love the blue colour of his vest, and the blue vest and red shirt just. Work super well together. It’s a fashion disaster but it’s also an aesthetic I vibe with so. (also love the red blue colour coding with Junpei specifically so). In VLR, much as I loathe him, I really like Dio’s design. The top hat and the braids and the red and gold work really well together and it’s fun. Dio is super frustrating though, but his design slaps!

1e: Favourite scene?

Oooo tricky. There’s so many good moments. I think I have to go with the classic though - the moment in 999 True End where Junpei gets the safe end code, and the narration goes “How did Junpei know? He knew because I knew”. It’s so chilling and also so satisfying to see everything suddenly click. I love it, and I love watching people experiencing that for the first time. It’s like. The best part of the game, I reckon.

2a: Least favourite character?

Okay I’m trying to not immediately say Delta but like.... Delta. I think he had a super interesting concept, but the way it was executed made it so much worse. I hated that they just.... hid him from view so then the twist was that this character you didn’t even know existed was Zero? It just felt cheap. Also ~complex motives~ got really annoying - I would have much preferred it if he had said “yeah I’m only doing this to ensure my birth (and the birth of my sister). soz lmao”. Because that motive feels more real? Rather than just adding a whole random “religious fanatic” in a vague sort of way. I do like the concept of him and Phi being twins and being separated in such a way that they’re very different ages now, but again the execution of Sigma and Diana’s romance was like. Not done well.

So yeah, Delta is my least favourite because he doesn’t significantly effect the plot, barely exists, and when he is present his motives don’t make sense and his abilities are not foreshadowed at all (morphogenetic fields in 999 were good, the entire game was spent explaining the concept. Mind Hack? Right outta left field and also if we’re trying to make it work based on how morphogenetic field theory was explained in 999, the “reading minds” part of it is “extremely strong receiver”, and the “forcing people to do actions” part of it is “extremely strong transmitter”, so he should have one of the abilities but not both. And if he is a really strong transmitter.... he’s gotta mime out the action in order to write it into the fields to encourage others to follow! And I reckon natural transmitters, who are worse at receiving, are naturally slightly resistant to this, natural receivers are more vulnerable to this, and normal people somewhere in between. But yes, if Delta is gonna Mind Hacc Eric, then we should see him in the corner miming holding a gun, pointing, and firing!! Bleugh!

Wow that turned into a bit of a rant. Whoops?

3d: Rank the endings

I have been given the choice to either rank the true ends across the three games, or all the endings within a particular game. I am so bad at choices ugh.

Anyway, the true ends:

999 - it really tied everything together and explained everything. The sequence in the incinerator, seeing 12 year old Akane and 21 year old Junpei talking to each other, Junpei saving young Akane, Clover’s absolute joy at finding out Light is alive, the “he knew because I knew” thing that I mentioned above, just everything. It was a self contained story, so everything was addressed and it was good.

VLR - this is more second by default, since I love 999′s true end and hate ZTD’s true end. But overall, this is fairly solid, and I like the concept of them doing this in 2074 to change an outcome in 2028, but it loses points because it relies on ZTD to “complete” it

ZTD - I hate this true end. The game has very enjoyable moments, but unfortunately the true end amounts to “oh let’s just... SHIFT to a timeline where we all survive” and that’s it? Which just feels sort of pointless tbh. And is so unsatisfactory

Within 999, I feel all six five endings are extremely solid, and all have a part to play an a story to tell. Knife End may be the most unsatisfactory, but it’s still okay. True, Safe, and Sub Ends are the ends with credits, and they’re all full of great dialogue and story. Axe End is also great, and I love the way you get to see the other side of Clover (and I really like the art of Clover holding an axe, I actually drew it on Saturday (when I started writing these answers, but it’s Wednesday now because I’ve been busy) for a friend’s birthday, which is technically my first ZE fanart and I’ll post it here at. Some point. Knife end is a bit quick, but honestly that’s okay? Especially when considering how many bad ends the other two games have that aren’t even named. Coffin End was my first end, and I wasn’t expecting the “to be continued” so I basically just collapsed and lay face down on the ground for a fair bit, but again given how many plot locks the other games have, coffin end is chill. So 999 has the most solid endings overall.

Within VLR, there are nine named endings, one for each character, and 13 ish unnamed bad ends. The unnamed bad ends are all like.... basically as soon as you make the decision you die or whatever, they don’t continue onwards like they do for Axe End etc in 999. I like that the named endings are designed for you to learn about each character, even though some of them are kinda weak. Like Quark’s ending, we didn’t really learn about him, and most of what we learnt about him was from Tenmyouji’s ending. I agree with what you said, Finch, about how it would have been nice to get some more Quark content/bonding/something, after he wakes up. Clover’s ending was also pretty disappointing, since she vaguely alluded to 999 and then everyone killed themselves. But there were some really good ones, like Luna’s and K’s and Dio’s (very fun that Phi was about to smash his head with a rock even if betraying Luna to get to that point is painful). Actually I really like the whole murder mystery aspect of everything behind the Magenta door. 

Within ZTD, I do appreciate that the endings all served their purposes, but I disliked the way there were sometimes multiple endings in the same timeline, while other timelines... had none. It just was a bit all over the shop. Most of the endings were informative for the characters, but the true end sucks.

5e: Rant about something you liked from the games

I adore all the red/blue symbolism in the games, especially in 999. The way every time the morphogenetic field is described, the transmitters are red people and the receivers are blue people. And then when you learn who the espers are, you can see how the colours align. Clover is a transmitter, and her colour scheme is a lot of dark pink, close to red, while Light, a receiver, has lots of blue in his design. Junpei and Akane can both transmit and receive (with each other), and this is shown by Junpei wearing both red and blue, and Akane wearing purple, a mix of red and blue. It’s really neat. Also, Junpei is new to the morphogenetic fields, so his blue and red is still separate, but Akane is so entwined within them, and uses them so easily, that her blue and red have mixed to become purple.

In VLR, Clover is still pink, and Junpei still has blue (even though he’s lost the red, but that could show he’s lost connection to Akane and now has no one to transmit to, although I think it’s hilarious if he was still unintentionally transmitting to Akane over the years, and that’s how she kept tabs on him and found him again for VLR.

In ZTD, Diana is red and Sigma is blue. I actually headcanon Diana as a receiver and Sigma as a transmitter (as in, he transmitted his memories to himself across timelines rather than a natural receiver ability), so I like that in ZTD they have opposite colours/each other’s colours. Phi is blue in both games and still a receiver imo.

So the colour symbolism is obviously strongest in 999, but I really like it.

5f: Rant about something you disliked from the games

In VLR, Clover says that stronger espers absorb the powers of weaker espers, and that’s why she can’t contact her brother. I hate this “fact” actually, because it directly contradicts the way the morphogenetic fields work in 999 and ZTD, and also in VLR itself. In 999, we have nine sets of esper siblings during the First Nonary Game, and since they all survived, we know that their esper powers must have worked correctly.... which means we can’t have had one Super Esper absorbing all the powers. The true end of ZTD has the powers of all the espers working together to create a resonant effect so that even Eric and Mira, non espers, can SHIFT. I also dislike SHIFTing (a rant for another day), but the idea of multiple espers in a vicinity resonating/boosting everyone’s powers makes way more sense than.... one person absorbing everyone else’s powers.

And even within VLR.... Tenmyouji does the ally/betray swapsies thing with Sigma and Phi, which means he is also remembering another timeline.... which means his powers are still working and not being absorbed by Phi and Sigma. Also.... both Phi and Sigma are using their powers and SHIFTing everywhere. Why doesn’t one of them absorb the other’s powers? Also also, we learn in the True End that Akane was in K’s armour the entire time during the timeline where Sigma and Phi most use their powers for all the bomb passwords and locations etc. You cannot try to tell me that Akane isn’t the strongest esper, ever. She simply is. If absorbing was true, then we would literally never see anyone else use their powers, because Akane is always there (FNG, 999, VLR, ZTD) and would have to be doing all the absorbing. Gah.

So I reckon, even though Clover said that, that she was simply wrong. That was the current theory SOIS had, but.... they don’t have to be right.

In any case, there are other reasons why Clover might not have been able to contact Light in VLR. The first is simply that he is dead. Another is the idea that minds linked by the morphogenetic fields have a sort of... shape. That fits perfectly with those they are esper partners with. And as the espers grow, so do their mind shapes. Clover was frozen on the 22nd of December 2028, and awoke on the 25th of January 2074. Her mind shape was not able to evolve and grow, so it is preserved. Light however has been living those 45 years, which means that’s been a lot of time for his mind shape to grow and change. Clover can’t find Light’s mind in the morphogenetic field, since it no longer looks the same, and their shapes no longer fit together. This is my personal headcanon, and it means that when Clover finds him, their minds can get used to each other again and their shapes can align, and they can be linked again.

5n: Do you have any fanart/fanfic/fangame recommendations?

Boy, do I ever? The First Nonary Game by @airdeari . What it says on the tin, folks! Airdeari has named all nine pairs of siblings, and created unique sibling relationships and unique experiences with the morphogenetic field for all of them, and woven a beautiful story together, and it’s just wonderful. It’s my favourite fic ever, to the point where I literally bound it and it now exists as a physical book in my life. Like, I cannot recommend this fic enough, it is the best.

AO3 Summary: A tale of nine children aboard a sinking ship, and the unbelievable story of how they survived.

[metalgearkong]

Resident Evil 8 - Review (Xbox One S)

7/6/21

Developed by Capcom, released May 2021

It's felt like a long time since Resident Evil 7 came out, performing a total reset of the series. Although the wait has been padded with the excellent Resident Evil 2 and Resident Evil 3 remakes, Resident Evil 8 was still one of my most anticipated game of this year. The story and format continues; we play as Ethan Winters from the first person perspective, following a few years after the events of the Baker Estate. Chris Redfield, who made a strange cameo appearance at the end of Resident Evil 7, has promised to keep Ethan, Mia, and their newborn daughter Rose safe if they relocated to Eastern Europe.

One of the big hooks of this game was Chris Redfield apparently playing the role of the antagonist. Showing up in the prologue and murdering Mia in cold blood surrounded by his soldiers, it certainly raises some questions. For longtime fans, no one truly thinks Chris turned evil, and there is obviously more to learn about the story. Unfortunately that's all it was for me, a hook, and I had no suspense or anticipation why Chris appeared to evil because I didn't question for a moment if his intentions were malevolent. It's memorable, but I think it only works for super dummies.

Ethan Winters finds himself captured by Chris' goons, but escapes, and comes across a massive village hidden in the snowy mountains of Eastern Europe. This is when I noticed one of my favorite things about the game, it's atmospherics. Resident Evil 7 spent nearly all of its time in pitch black corridors, but nailed the dark creepy feel of modern and classic survival horror games. Resident Evil 8 opens things up wide, and often in broad daylight. An elaborate castle looms in the fog, creaky windmills are spinning in the distance, and a dilapidated village connects them all, acting as a hub for the game.

Gameplay is largely the same as Resident Evil 7, but Resident Evil 8 is unquestionably less scary and suspenseful. It's understandable that scares in the daylight are vastly less terrifying by default, and that remains the case here. Yes the village is abandoned and eerie, and has tons of blind corners to be ambushed from, but when everything is surrounded in a gentle blizzard or during a serene sunset, the game is going to be inherently less scary. I do give them points for trying something new, as I can't think of another Resident Evil game which took place in the daytime besides Resident Evil 5 (which wasn't a very scary game either).

The foot soldiers of the village are werewolf people called Lycans, and in the other sections of the game such as the factory or the castle, you also encounter generic ghouls, often carrying melee weapons in the theme of the area they populate. A vendor appears all over the game, paying homage to Resident Evil 4, who you can sell treasures to, upgrade weapons, and buy supplies from. I played on Normal difficulty and after the initial action scenes, I settled into a grove that felt pretty easy. Even the final boss only took me one attempt. Seasoned gamers may want to try hard mode to start off with.

The story is intriguing at first, but doesn't resolve in anything satisfying, and evolves into something that makes some of the least sense in the series so far. Yes it does continue the story of the mold infection, but the explanations I found to be vague and the story brings up more questions than it answers. You shouldn't have to read third party sources online to get basic information about the plot. My favorite section of the game was exploring a mansion where one of the sub-bosses lives, borrowing heavily from PT. Taking away your weapons and exploring a pitch dark building with something extremely creepy following you was the most satisfaction of the horror genre I felt in the entire game.

My least favorite part was exploring the main village hub, as I felt it was an unnecessary maze of obstacles and excuses why you couldn't just navigate this little town more openly. Most of the puzzles and backtracking is some of the most simple in the series as well. No one will be left scratching their head trying to remember where a key went, or how to organize your inventory to maximize what you can carry with you. A crafting system also allows you to create ammo out of thin air, further adding to the simplicity of the combat and drop in tension. You don't even have to mix herbs in this game, making item usage completely streamlined and brainless.

[Spoilers] Resident Evil 8 also throws a big twist at the end, apparently to explain away an unrealistic aspect of Resident Evil 7, but the explanation raises far more questions than it answers, and is much more of an obvious ret-con rather than a genuine planned twist in the story. Apparently Ethan died at the beginning of Resident Evil 7 when the Bakers captured him and imprisoned him in their home. All along Ethan has been infected with the mold, explaining his ability to reassemble lost limbs. Resident Evil 8 is still a solid triple-A first person experience. It may not be nearly as scary as Resident Evil 7 and may be more action-oriented, but it still has a few great moments. The story will leave long time fans frustrated however, and in spite of a huge cliff hanger, it doesn't keep me on the edge of my seat for the next game. A fun and sometimes satisfying game, but doesn't live up to its potential or its predecessor.

7.25/10

[mahoikutranslationproject]

MGRP: Black Chapter 1 Thoughts and Reactions

So I’m actually in a unique position because as a translator I can’t exactly “react” after I read it, and I’ve read MGRP way before I started translating it, but, then I had a thought.

What if I type out my reactions, put it in notepad or some other text document, preserve it, and then after I translate it, post them all up? That way, it’ll technically still be my reactions and thoughts at the time, and I can kinda sorta join in the fandom discussion.

With Black coming out I thought Black was the perfect arc to start it, so I’ve been typing up my reactions starting with Chapter 1. I actually wanted to do it for Queens too, I just only had the idea after I was halfway through Queens. In any case, here we go:

NOTE: By this point I only have knowledge of Chapter 1 as I read it.

The Entire Regulations and Rules section before the Prologue

This part reminds me of something like DanganRonpa or something similar where the rules are quite normal and nice until you get to stuff like “DON’T TALK ABOUT ANYTHING TO SOCIAL MEDIA >:C”. Which I guess makes sense for Magical Girls, but there’s a vague air of... sinisterness? I wonder if Pythie was behind this school.

Also I like the school anthem. I wish there was an accompanying background music, but I’ll try and sing it in my head.

Gradually, her ego took form, and the girl began to regain her sense of self. She stretched her body, and hit a flat hard object. It was cold, and her butt also felt the same. Perhaps she was sitting on the floor. Without rushing, but without being slow about it either, she opened her eyes, as if realizing this is not how things should be. 

A woman was smiling straight ahead. Who was she? She was bending down and looking at her, tilting her neck. Beside her, there was a human-sized object that was tied up in chains and stuck with a tag.

The girl blinked, held her breath, and gulped.

Actions that she should’ve done without thought now felt agonizing, as if this wasn’t her own body. Why? She wondered, and as if answering, her mind replied If you have questions, just ask. She opened her mouth and said “Uh.” After confirming what her voice sounded like, she looked towards the woman, and asked her question.

Okay, so is Kana asking herself a question in her mind? Curious how her power works here. Also, what was that about a human-sized object tied in chains and stuck with a tag? That’s... bizarre. Kana where are you? Also she’s clearly been out for some time, probably. Like she’s probably not used to having this body. My other guess is that she’s not used to the sensation of being a Magical Girl.

“This isn’t my body anymore, is it?”

Wrong. This was definitely a girl’s body.

“You haven’t used it for a while, have you?”

Supports my theory above.

She was inside a small room, with concrete walls and floors unadorned with any decorations. It was about twice her height. Meanwhile, its width and depth were about six times her height. When she looked behind her, she could see a cylindrical vertical container. Did she just come out of it? The floor, walls, and the colors of the container were all pale white. Its material was soft, like resin or something. The only exit was the one metallic door frame. The woman in front of her was standing as if she was guarding said door. While her smile seemed like an average smile, but there was something off about it. As soon as she took her eyes away from her, though, she couldn’t exactly place why it felt so off. She wore a skirt, with high heeled shoes, and glasses. The impression she got from her outfit was that she was formal, yet her smile was mischievous.

What the hecky was she in cryostasis!? Also this sounds like Pythie/Yoshioka

“......Where are we?”

The woman didn’t answer. But the answer popped into the girl’s head regardless. This was a prison. The woman bowed and spoke,

Okay so this is Magical Girl prison.

“I am Yoshioka. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Yoshioka.”

I knew it.

“But now the tides have changed.”

“The Land of Magic doesn’t change so easily.”

She knows about the Land of Magic. Kana you are interesting. 

“You are a Magical Girl named Kana. Do you remember?”

“Kana.”

She shook her head rapidly, and grabbed any unkempt hair. Now that she mentioned it, that did seem right. Within her vague memory, she recalled a Kana hidden somewhere there.

“Right. Kana. My name is Kana.”

“Now, as for what you did before-”

Before she could even utter another word, a name popped into Kana’s head.

“Caspar…”

At this point I’m thinking she’s probably related to Ratsumu? Is she potentially the actual Third Sage? She doesn’t seem Sagey but she’s got like... a potential for it. Especially cause she said she recalled “a Kana hidden somewhere”. What if she’s only a fragment of the Sage? Like how Ratsumu’s name is inhumanly long.

“Perhaps you may have noticed, but that is your Magical Skill. When you ask a question to someone, you will immediately know their answer. A wonderful, powerful ability, though one that shouldn’t be abused.”

“And why shouldn’t I abuse it?”

Immediately, the answer popped into her head. Because answers are subjective. If the respondent would answer a lie that they believe to be true, the answer will be distorted as well. There are also things that are better left unknown. Also, it was much better to use your own head to figure things out rather than relying on your powers. Perhaps because it might be a breach of privacy to Yoshioka. Kana certainly didn’t want her own privacy being breached. A variety of answers popped into her head. All of them Yoshioka’s, perhaps gained through her powers.

What happens if Kana asks someone a question in a livestream... Also this power is less powerful than I expected, which means it may not be Sage-level, but it doesn’t rule out the fact that she could be a Sage.

She followed Yoshioka into a hallway filled with a series of rugged iron bars, which led to large pillars further ahead, and these iron bars and large pillars continued to surround her path forward. There were doors lined equally on the sides, with prisoners just like Kana imprisoned inside, pacing around as they stared at the iron bars. This scenery repeated across the floors until they reached the sixth floor. This was a pretty big facility. If there was one prisoner per door, she’d guessed this jail housed about 100 or 200 prisoners. There were tags within tags, used to mark these prisoners down. Naturally, security was supposed to be strict, but other than Yoshioka and the Magical Girl packed inside that object, nobody was here visiting anyone else. 

Wow. This is a huge prison. Were they all stripped of clothing and equipment too, or was it just Kana? Also, a thought that occurred to me later on past my initial reactions during my readthrough, “why wasn’t Kana tagged?”

“That’s yours. Please feel free.”

“Clothes and underwear.”

She turned them around, and the bright light inside the room bounced from her silver hair to make a shining circle. There was also a matching skirt.

“This doesn’t look like a costume.”

“It’s a uniform.”

It looked like a sailor suit with a crimson color scheme. It had a design that had low degrees of exposure. This would be too plain for a Magical Girl costume. Kana didn’t feel like this matched her. She wasn’t flashy, sure, but this was even worse. It also felt Eastern somewhat.

“This doesn’t look like something you wear for a Magical Girl job.”

“Oh, my apologies. These clothes are enchanted by magic, so it won’t ever break. Not to worry. And, it fits where you’re supposed to go.”

That explains why Kana’s clothes are so plain. This wasn’t her actual costume at all.

☆ Mariko Fukuroi

Black is officially the best arc. Case closed.

All of a sudden, Mariko became known as the head of information. She was then entrusted with more things than would befit a temporary assistant. With there being two Magical Girls in this school, school life was generally very chaotic.

How did she get so many jobs. I mean, I’m proud of you Marika but how. Weren’t you just a sub?

Originally, Mariko had only been sent as a substitute teacher because one of the homeroom teachers was on maternity leave

Yes, you WERE!

Despite that, Yamada kept exercising on his own. His spirit was nearly unbreakable, even to the eyes of a Magical Girl. But who knows how far that’ll take him. Carefully, but also quickly, Mariko sought out a way to solve the problem, by listening, being attentive, and alert.

I hope you become a Magical Girl some day Yamada.

Turning around, she saw two girls. She knew their faces, but they weren’t from her class. In fact, they weren’t even the same grade. Standing in front of her was Yoshiko Yoshinoura, with an expression that showed how determined she was. Behind her, Sari Kasuga seemed worried. Both, however, seemed to be anxious. Both were friends of Koyuki Himekawa.

Props to Yoshiko for also surviving all the way to Black. She, Snow, and Ripple are the only long-running survivors at this point. If Snow and Ripple bite the dust, this ironically makes her the one who outlived literally every other cast member. Poor Sumire never shows up again though.

“Hey teach, you’re kinda looking a bit weird. Gritting your teeth like that.”

“Mmph?”

It seems her face had contorted from her clenched jaw. Yoshiko’s suspicions only grew further. Mariko managed to cover by coughing twice. Mariko went back to a cool nonplussed “What? You didn’t see anything” kind of face.

“I uh, have canker sores.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. I swear, I do.”

Mariko Fukuroi—the Magical Girl Marika Fukuroi—always hung out with Snow White whenever they were both Magical Girls. She’d help her with anything she had on her plate. Whenever she did so, Marika was almost always filled with joy. Such was the freedom of the Magical Girl known as Marika Fukuroi. However, she still had trouble remembering all her students’ faces. They flickered back and forth in her mind. Her inner storm didn’t really make for a nice warm personality. 

Answer. Your. Phone. Snow.

Also, it’s cute how Marika cares so much about Snow White this way. I always knew she did, but now it’s even better. Marika’s a huge brutish brawler, but she also just has trouble socializing, and letting out her actual feelings. This is great.

After opening the door to the science lab, she closed it and held it down with her body, the girls still outside. Then, she bit back a loud scream and pulled her hair.

I really wish this was animated, or drawn, or just... something. I really really really want to see this.

Snow White’s new Magical Phone—that she hasn’t used yet—began to vibrate inside her costume. Whatever the reason, it’d be interrupting what she was doing now. So she held her hand to her costume and turned off her phone.

ANSWER. YOUR. PHONE. SNOW.

She had faintly heard the voice of someone’s mind from beyond the trees, meaning she had to close the distance. She made a circle with her thumb and index finger, and the Magical Girl running up behind her, Uluru, saw her signal.

I am so glad they’re partners now. Snow White and Uluru, Batman and Robin, it fits so well.

“There she is! That’s the girl you beat up in the cave…” Uluru said, pointing to a blue Magical Girl standing in front of the trees. Princess Deluge.

Whoa, they found Deluge already? Wait, are they going to fight again? OH MY GOD ARE THEY!? ARE WE GONNA SEE ANOTHER FIGHT? IN THE PROLOGUE?

Back when Puk Puck had raided the caverns, Uluru had told Snow White that she fought with Deluge, and then promptly thought that it might be a bad idea to mention that. The Uluru she knew before would always say what’s on her mind without fault. Now, Uluru had grown. She cared for others, and chose her words carefully.

I like how we’re checking in with everyone, and I like that Uluru is growing as a person and a partner. This fills me with joy. Snow and Uluru are one of my favorite Snow pairs next to Marika, cause both of them can basically kick ass Batman Robin style (well with Marika it’d be Batman and... uh... insane battle hungry Robin? a nicer Jason Todd Robin?)

Standing around Deluge were Armor Arlie, Blade Brenda, and Cannon Catherine, all facing Snow White. These three black-suited Magical Girls had also been manipulated by Puk Puck and fought alongside her. However, Arlie, who had never taken off her visor, even while in briefings, breaks, or fighting with Puk Puck, had now lifted her visor. She looked just like Brenda and Catherine, yet she was also completely different from before.

Snow White smiled back in reply to the black-suited Magical Girls who were happily waving about their weapons, before relaxing her expression and facing Deluge.

D’awwwww she LIKES them!!!!!!!!!

Alright, Chapter 1 proper. I can’t believe it ends THERE! So wait, Armor Arlie’s still Arlie, and there’s no Dory, which means... Where is she? Is she part of Deluge’s group? Wait, where’s Shadow Gale? Did they just... leave her at home? Without a babysitter? Does she have food? Will she be okay?

☆ Tetty Goodgripp

The nearest station from her house was around three minutes; from there, she’d catch two trains, then she’d exit the largest station from the west side, and walk one minute until she arrived at her destination. The building had no elevator and was all broken down and rusty, but she still had to travel up to the seventh floor. Finally, she would reach the Gate to her school. This was her normal route to school.

So the school uses a Gate in the 7th floor? That’s pretty rad.

From there, she entered the building from the roof. She had considered the fact that the rooftop door not being locked was a sign of courtesy for other Magical Girls.

Isn’t she breaking the rules here, Class Rep?

 As she ran across the hallways, she saw a sign on the wall that read “No running in the halls.” It’s fine. It was a short walk to class anyway.

That’s two rules broken.

They all belonged to one of the three groups. Group three to be precise. Hearing Fujino’s footsteps, they turned around, in time for Fujino to say a warm “Good morning!” towards them.

I’ll not paste every single one of their descriptions but while I can see Lightning being hime-girl, Diko being mohawk girl threw me off so much.

“Ello.”

“Ewo.”

God, these two are gonna get me so much.

These three groups refuse to interact with each other at all. At best, they’d greet each other, but the only one who would respond with a smile among anyone was Sally Raven. The rest are generally salty to any outsiders. Except for one girl in group two, who wasn’t just elementary school friends with Fujino—she also became a Magical Girl in the same exam.

Fuko Sayama—Magical Girl name Mepis Pheles. She had been estranged from Fujino when she transferred out, but miraculously, they made a reunion here. At first, they got along well, but then they started to talk less and less because she kept getting mad whenever they played cards.

Mepis is one person I didn’t expect to be the angry type, but now I’m even more interested in her.

At this point we’ve gotten an illustration, and I notice compared with the human illustrations in twitter that they’re arranged in exactly the same way as their groups! Which means the ones that don’t have human illustrations WASN’T Arlie and Dory, but Calcolo (cause she’s a teacher) and Kana. This was further confirmed when the two twins actually ARE Arlie and Dory.

“Well duh, they’d be a Magical Girl! This is a Magical Girl CLASS! I’m talkin’ about somethin’ ELSE! They’re a bit more mhm mhm, y’know?”

With her fingers on her sun-tanned cheeks, Wrappy Tip shook her chestnut hair out and about. She normally speaks loud, and now she spoke even louder somehow.

WRAPPY!!! WHY DO YOU SCREAM SO MUCH! I’m joking I love you for that Wrappy. Your Magical Girl form looks like Tepsekemei but you’re actually HIGHLY ENERGETIC!

“I’m glad OUR group has five! If we had four, then WE’D get the inmate! God, can you imagine the TENSION!?”

“You don’t have to be so mean.”

“I’m not MEAN! I’m SCARED!”

Wrappy’s words seemed nervous, but her expression and tone were completely at odds with it, being so cheerful.

I have a feeling Wrappy is going to be like this for the entirety of Black. She’s just gonna be in danger and be like “OH MY GOD WE’RE IN DANGER!” with googly eyes and a gasping look on her face.

“So hang on, you’re telling me she’s been released, right?”

“Well, she wouldn’t have broken out, would she?”

“Prison Break.”

“Season 2.”

The fact that Arlie and Dory knows Prison Break and Season 2 of Prison Break leads me to believe they watched it with Deluge or something and Shadow Gale during their stint at that hideout. Which is both cute and amazing.

Her height was 170cm, and her face seemed so mature. She had trimmed natural blonde hair that reached her shoulders. She had fair skin, blue eyes, and a European Magical Girl name. But unlike Arlie and Dory, her Japanese was very fluent. Thunder General Adelheid made a warm smile and waved her right hand.

THUNDER GENERAL ADELHEID!!!! Now this is one Magical Girl I’m going to keep an eye out throughout Black.

“Hmm, it seems you’ve heard the rumors.”

“About the PRISONER!? YEAH YEAH, WE DID!” replied Wrappy Tip while violently headbanging.

My opinion of Wrappy shot up due to her violent headbanging.

“For now, I shall treat her as if she were kin. However, I do feel like she may quarrel with Mepis.”

Little did I know, this was the understatement of the year.

She hadn’t changed one bit. Her appearance had changed, now wearing glasses and braids, but her personality hadn’t. Despite being seemingly literary and well-read, this girl was surprisingly quick to anger, and felt more like a gangster. When she was in elementary school, it didn’t matter if it were boys or even seniors, she picked a fight with everyone—mostly people she found annoying. The Daifugo card game during her lunch break was cancelled early because she had a tantrum for losing, and the teachers couldn’t handle her, so they just banned her from bringing cards at all.

Okay Mepis is going to be a fun ride when she finally does get a POV and dialogue. That being said, the glasses girl was one of my secondary and tertiary guesses for Mepis solely because a winky face human is a little too obvious. It’s hilarious how so out of personality her human self looks from her Magical Girl self though.

Tetty Goodgripp had been chosen to become their Class Rep. Still, group two’s problems should be solved by group two. Thinking about it though, it seemed their leader was Mepis Pheles, and considering how their leader was the one itching for a fight, there was no way they could solve any problems whatsoever on their own.

The consistent opinion among these girls seems to be “Mepis is not going to be a good time”

When she looked at Miss Lille, she saw that she seemed almost pale, as if saying “I’m sorry for what you’re about to endure”. Wrappy meanwhile was just waving both her hands in the air as if saying “HI GUYS! WE’RE TALKING ABOUT YOU!”

Wrappy shoots up yet again in the best Black characters rank, though so far everyone’s off to a great start personality-wise.

Dory meanwhile was grabbing her spear and was bonking Arlie in the head repeatedly. Arlie looked sad, but Dory kept bonking.

BWAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT!? WHY?

These two looked like they came in a set, yet most of the time, they kept on fighting each other. It’s hard to tell if they were actually close with each other or not.

So do they actually just hate each other? That’s hilarious.

☆ Halna Medhi Melen

a mage? Oh boy. And a new one too. Side note, I really love how we can just determine mages from their ridiculous names. Mana, why isn’t your name so ridiculous?

Calcolo may be a talented Mage herself, but she was far from mature, so she’d make a horrible teacher.

GASP!!!! CALCOLO’S A MAGE MAGICAL GIRL!!!!! AAAAAAAAA!!!! We’ve heard this being possible in Breakdown and F2P but this is our first main series character to BE one.

Halna glanced at her own pointed ears

First off. Elf. Secondly, how the hell do you glance at your own ears???

The cause of the Calcolo’s nervousness was 20% Magical Girl and 80% Calcolo’s timid personality.

Oh Calcolo’s gonna be a favorite. She’s like 7753′s personality mixed with Kuru-Kuru Hime’s job.

“My name is Halna Medhi Melen. I am the supervisor of this school. This is Calcolo Callumph. She’s your homeroom teacher. Her Magical Girl name is Calcolo.”

Callumph is such a nice last name, but why is your Magical Girl name literally your actual name, Calcolo? Didn’t you learn from Nokko-Chan and Akane?

Also the entire section of this part was just Halna raging at Kana as Kana innocently answers questions was the best. Calcolo’s boss is much angrier than 7753′s was for sure, and that makes for a brand new flavor of “depressed office worker Magical Girl”, of which there are so many in MGRP.

Since being assigned to Class 2-F, there has been no day where Calcolo didn’t feel pain and agony. What kind of a teacher has no mood for classes, or any abilities, or just seems to complain whenever there’s an event? Why did she have to make up a rule to ban cards during lunch? Why can’t the kids just get along?

I knew I’d love her. She literally has 7753′s personality about her job.

She remembered her first day as a teacher, when she was determined to be the best teacher she could be. She opened the door and saw a girl with a mohawk and tattoos on half her face like she was from the feudal age. That’s when she thought “Yeah. No. I don’t think this’ll work out.”

Hey, I’m sure Diko didn’t mean anything bad by it. That being said this made me laugh so much and got Calcolo even higher on my best characters list.

Her bloodline can be traced back to one of the Three Sages, Shayn Osk Val Mer, and not only that, her proficiencies are on the level of specialists. She has eyes that could peer through the essence of others, and has a fierceness that enables her to make decisions without hesitation. She had pointed ears and heterochromatic eyes, which seemed an anomaly even for Mages

So, does this mean Osk had children? Also, is this where elves came from? Her heterochromatic eyes are also shared by Puk.

There’s like an entire section dedicated to how the school is just a proxy war between the factions and I love how they’re still scrambling at each other despite not physically having the capabilities to.

For now, they focused on finding any Mage who can transform into a Magical Girl. Thus, the spotlight shone on Calcolo, the girl who studied day and night to become an authority on criminology. Oh, and she can transform into a Magical Girl too.

I like how her degree was used first. This makes Calcolo sound like Buzz Lightyear during his Mrs. Nesbitt phase in Toy Story 1.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No? What’d I forget?”

Her expression, or lack of, felt like she’s not really judging her or being mad, but Calcolo felt like she was going to dive into a pit of something much much worse.

“Well, classes are divided into two sections. General Education, and Magical Girl Education. Gen Ed classes will be taken in your human forms, and Magical Girl Classes in your Magical Girl form.”

“Okay,” Kana said, pulling her chair out and standing up.

Oooh boy, I’m gonna love Kana’s interaction with everybody if she keeps this up. She’s not exactly clueless, but everyone else thinks she’s an idiot. Which I can’t blame. She looks kinda dumb.

Basically, if Calcolo reported any problems with Kana, worst comes to worst, Halna will pick a fight with Caspar.

I enjoy the fact that Calcolo basically said “If I report Kana, I may indirectly cause a war with Caspar. Nope.”

“Your clothes-”

“It’s the school uniform.”

“No, I know. I just meant, parts of them are torn.”

“It’s to make it easier for me to move in.”

I didn’t notice this at the time, but my editor pointed out that she basically ripped the “unrippable” clothes. Kana what are you?

Well, those are my initial thoughts on it. When I first read chapter one, I was super intrigued at how the school worked, and what Halna and Calcolo’s plans are for it. It seems I was mistaken that the school was a Pythie-run thing, but I do think Pythie is using Kana in some way. I also think Kana’s potentially related to the third Sage, Caspar herself. Time will tell how this plays out.