#I will say one thing I have learned during this challenge is I am getting a fun little way to do depth in trees and I'm like...

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 23 - Honey

I wonder where the kids have gone...

[dabisqueen]

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh. 

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened? 

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 

Shit. 

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 

Speaking of bulge. 

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 

“In front of all these people?!" 

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.” 

“Camera Speed.” 

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation. 

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 

raising your hips to have more access to you. 

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps. 

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS GENERAL HCS DURING DATING ── .✦

a/n: my posts are barely getting engagement so it would be nice to reblog + like + cmmt tysm! Also

I’m so tired because I don’t know what I want to do with myself when like writing because I don’t have much ideas yk, (I do have a lottt of ideas just don’t want to like spam and idk how to like execute it correctly so ya) but I’m so grateful I’m back!

(Tags: batboys general hcs + fem!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Compliments: Dick will compliment you constantly, but they’re the slightly extra kind. “You look like you just walked off the cover of a magazine… Or like you’re about to rob a bank with your style, and I’m here for it.”

Date Nights: Dick is a hopeless romantic mixed a romantic flirty person. He'll plan elaborate date nights that are almost too perfect. You're having a candlelit dinner on a rooftop... until a mosquito swoops by, and you both spend 20 minutes trying to catch it.

Awkwardly Adorable: Dick tries so hard to be smooth, but when it’s just the two of you, he ends up tripping over his words, saying things like “I love you… like… in a non-creepy way… I mean, I know that sounds creepy but—“, “you know dick, you could’ve just told me you loved me no need for all that extra yapping.”

Sharing Food: He can’t resist sharing his food with you but will dramatically defend his fries. “No, you can't have any. This is the last one. You’ll be fine. It’s called 'the sacrifice of love.'”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy But Cute: Jason might be brooding and grumpy on the outside, but once he gets comfortable with you, he’s a sucker for giving you the best hugs. They’re just not as soft as you expect, because, well, he’s Red Hood and that’s not very 'soft' in his book.

Love Language: He definitely has a love language of throwing sarcastic remarks at you to show affection. “I’m just saying, you look so good, I might actually let you live longer than five minutes without me.”

Meme Sharing: Jason will share the funniest memes with you, and he will laugh harder than anyone else when you send him a reaction meme. You two could spend hours going through meme after meme while ignoring his patrol responsibilities.

Late Night Conversations: He’s always the first to text at 3 am just to say, “I’m not okay. Also, I think I might’ve made pasta in the Batcave, but it’s 80% burnt and half of the 20% is missing on the ground in other words, it’s fully burnt. You in?”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Puns & Dad Jokes: Tim is the king of puns. You might be mid-sentence talking about something serious, and he’ll sneak in, “Well, that’s egg-sactly what I was thinking.”

Organizing Everything: Tim will have a notebook just for your relationship. He organizes things like "future plans," "annoying habits to change," and “how we can both pretend to be normal in public.”

Overthinking: Tim might send you long, thoughtful texts about nothing and everything, then panic and delete them. Later, you get a short text that says, “Hey, I like you. It’s cool. Let’s go save Gotham.”

Netflix & Research: On date nights, Tim is all about watching a documentary on some obscure topic. You wanted to watch a rom-com? Nope. Tim says, “Let’s learn about the history of ancient pizza ovens.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Fiercely Protective: Damian will go full boss mode in a relationship. If someone even looks at you wrong, he’s ready to challenge them to a duel. You’ve never seen someone challenge a guy at the coffee shop to a sword fight over a latte until you met him.

Literally Shakespeare: He has this bizarre habit of reciting random Shakespeare quotes when trying to express his feelings. “My love for you is like a tempest, crashing and relentless. Also, I think you forgot to add sugar in my coffee.”

Jealousy: He’ll get jealous of even the smallest things. That random guy who offered to help you with your grocery bags? Damian’s glaring at them from across the parking lot, preparing his “You’re not worthy” speech.

Tenderness: Don’t be fooled by his brooding exterior. Damian will get you flowers (in his own way) — like a very dramatic single red rose that he purchased with the least amount of emotion possible, but you know he spent an hour picking the perfect one.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Grumpy But Loyal: Bruce is that partner who takes a long time to warm up to things, but once he’s in, he’s in 100%. He’ll still be grumpy, though. If you show up in a bat-themed shirt, you’ll get a raised eyebrow and a grunt that could probably level an entire building.

Affectionate In His Own Way: Bruce will bring you your favorite coffee without asking because he’s been paying attention to your usual order for the past six months. But if you say anything about it, he’ll act like he’s annoyed. “I’m Batman. I don’t do things for people.”

Overprotective: He’ll put the Batcomputer between the two of you if he’s feeling protective, even if it’s completely unnecessary. Someone bumps into you? Bruce is already three steps ahead, tracking their life history and figuring out their deepest secrets, just in case.

Romantic, But Quiet About It: Bruce can’t show his love through words, but the way he gives you his jacket when it’s cold speaks volumes. Of course, he acts like it was an accident. “I didn’t want you to catch a cold, that’s all. I’m not a softy, don’t read into it.”

GENERAL TRAITS FOUND IN THEM ── .✦

Matching Outfits: They’ll all pretend like they’re too cool for matching outfits, but one day they’ll catch themselves accidentally twinning with you, and neither of you can ever act normal again.

In Public: They’ll all act like they don’t care if you hold their hand in public, but if anyone tries to grab your hand instead, they’ll give them a glare that could freeze a person in place.

Batman’s Turtleneck: Every Batboy secretly loves when Bruce wears his iconic black turtleneck and glasses. They all think Bruce looks like a mysterious intellectual, and they might just start commenting on it to mess with him. Bruce is too focused on Gotham to care.

[comicaurora]

Hey, firstly I just wanted to say I’ve been consuming your content for years and thank you and Blue for being the only thing that kept my academic brain from turning to mush during online COVID middle school!

But I’m entering a new academic era, notably Junior year of my very rigorous collage prep program at my high school. I’ve always thought I would go to collage after high school but I’ve recently stumbled into some very interesting ways of making a living only perusing my creative passions (some very scary publishing opportunities). So I’ve been wondering if I actually want to go to collage or not, since going to collage just to be a published writer is an objective waste of money and I don’t want to spend the rest of high school breaking my neck earning collage credits I’m not going to use.

So I was wondering, if you had known you could make a living only perusing your creative passions, would you have spent the time, money and academic energy going to collage for something you didn’t end up doing professionally?

(I would ask my advisor but he’s too obviously pro collage and doesn’t have any experience making a living creatively).

(Sorry for the long ask)

No problem about the long ask! This is a very good question!

I'll start with the short answer, which is that nobody can make this decision but you, and if you decide not to go to college right now, that does not mean you are deciding to never go to college. Especially with Covid, plenty of people are taking gap years, and plenty of full-on adults go to college later in life, simply because the mood strikes them, or they now have income to burn, or they're interested in a career change, etc. This is not a coinflip that will decide the trajectory of the rest of your life.

For the longer answer, for me personally? Knowing I'd be able to earn a living doing art would have no bearing on my decision to go to college. Setting aside that a ton of the literary analysis my job is based on is skills I learned in college, I liked college because it gave me the opportunity to learn a wide swath of things, from anthropology courses to dinosaur science. I like learning new things! College was an opportunity to learn a ton of new things, and even if it was very challenging in places, I thrived in it. I didn't go to college with the goal of becoming qualified for a Real Job - because of who I am as a person I think I'd seriously struggle at most Real Jobs, and I knew that even back then. I was in college to learn, and to learn how to learn. I got my degree in mathematics, a thing I do not use in my Job, but the functionality of mathematics - to logically reason through problems, step by step, comparing it to known problems to map the way to solutions using operations that preserve truth - is an invaluable skill that I apply everywhere there are problems to solve, especially literary analysis. I learned a wide swath of tools with surprising applications, and I couldn't have known when I started how I might use them in the end.

However, there's a big caveat there. This was my personal experience of college as a playground where I could work towards a solid major and also branch out to take weird one-off electives and summer courses when anything struck my fancy. But I was in on a scholarship to cover a good chunk of my tuition, and one of my relatives very kindly paid for the rest. I got to do college without accruing any college debt, and that is an enormous factor. I can only share my personal take, but I'm not going to pretend that things would have been the same if I'd had to enter adulthood finding a way to quickly pay off a six-figure sum.

I've been extremely lucky to get to the point where I can navigate life in a way where money is very rarely something I need to worry about. It was certainly not always like that, and I do not miss those times, but it invariably shapes the way I see the world and the steps I took to get here. For me personally, I do not consider college in any way a waste of time; I think the opportunity to learn is one of the most exciting things out there. But my experience cannot be pretended to be universal.

This decision is yours, and it is also not final. Whatever choice you make, you can always choose again later. You have time.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 50

(Grim is an honorary member of every dorm, just as the Human is. He isn't overly fond of Octavinelle due to not liking water- and not being able to swim- but he does like the abundant sea-food the dorm has at their disposal. Almost every fish he sees, he asks if he can eat it or if the Human can cook it up for him. Azul is acutely aware of the fact that Grim is the Human's kit and the Human will not tolerate anyone being cruel to their kit, so he is keen to make friends with the little feline.)

Warnings; yandere, yandere behavior, platonic and romantic yanderes, competing yanderes, jealousy/envy, swimming lessons, sprinkled in lore, Selkies, Hellcat, Merfolk, Cecaelia, Genie, Shinigami, mention of Nemean Lion,

~~~~~~~~

You sat quietly in your dorm, the new fur wrapped around you comfortingly as you cuddled down into it. Grim purred contentedly from where he was curled up on your lap, kneading his paws into the incredibly soft fur as he nuzzled through it. The fur likely made him feel like he was snuggling another Hellcat- as you were his mother in his eyes- so it put him at ease. Where you wanted to question why your fur was so soft like that of a Seal pup, you figured there weren't many answers to your questions.

All of the mishaps led to where you were now, listening to the elder Shinigami bustle and fret over this transformation you have undertaken.

"Foolish younglings can't even remember what they had grabbed to make that potion."

"Papa Hades, what does this mean for (Y/n)? I was under the impression that Humans couldn't take transformation potions without intense negative side effects."

"They can't. The fact that no side effects have occurred is intriguing and highly irregular. Little One, how are you feeling?"

You tried to not frown, genuinely feeling fine- if a little irritated- and wanting to explore just what that Selkie form of yours did. Azul did say he would be keeping the Mostro Lounge closed for the day in favor of getting himself and the Twins situated in Ramshackle. It was clear he didn't intend to keep it closed, just a temporary adjustment for the day. That also meant you only had so much time to try out your Selkie form in the Octavinelle dorm.

Despite having heard of the Mostro Lounge and the Octavinelle dorm prior, you had not visited the dorm and wanted to take a look for yourself. Azul said it was an oceanic dorm, but you didn't fully understand what that entailed. From what you saw of the other dorms, they were contained spaces of reality that differed from the environment of Sage Island. Perhaps Octavinelle was actually beneath the ocean somehow.

Beyond just the dorm, you were interested in learning about your three new guards outside of the few interactions you have had with them. You spent time with Floyd when you visited the Queendom of Roses and spent some time with Jade even after the Wolf attack. Azul was more of an enigma beyond protecting you during the Spelldrive tournament.

"I feel fine."

"Still, we should check to make sure."

"Papa Hades, I'm sure it's fine. You would be the second to know if I wasn't fine, because Ortho would be first. I know he keeps track of me through my collar even if he is not physically present."

The elder seemed to pick up the irritation in your tone as you cuddled yourself deeper into your fur. There was something soothing beyond the temperature regulation- neither too hot, nor too cold- of the fur coat you wore. Like being held by a friend you could fully trust with everything in your life, even the darkest parts. You were now beginning to understand the significance of Professor Divus always laying his fur over you.

"You make a fair point, Little One, but I am not worrying over nothing. Severe illness or even near allergic reactions were some of the more tame things I have seen befall a Human who took a transformation potion. Yet again, you seem to effortlessly challenge everything I understood as truth when it came to Humans. If you are alright with it, I would like to run a few more diagnostics-"

"More testing? ... I guess..."

He observed you for a moment, seeing how crestfallen you had become at the idea of yet another round of the seemingly endless testing. Though you understood his curiosity and shared that same interest in many ways, that didn't mean you were thrilled by the prospect. The way even thinking about more testing left you feeling drained and dissatisfied was more than obvious.

"... You are right to be frustrated, Little One. Go enjoy this novel experience. We can work on understanding why you are so adaptive to the transformation potion later. Ortho will ensure we are kept aware of your wellbeing. If your vitals become concerning, I will come to your aid."

His acquiescence actually made excitement run through you, almost immediately perking up. Azul did say he would be in Octavinelle if you wanted to come by prior to his arrival with the twins.

In your excitement, you failed to noticed the worried look Alexandros exchanged with Papa Hades. The elder simply shook his head as the younger Shinigami took it as a sign to keep his concerns quiet. They had already slipped up once by reverting to their native tongue while within earshot of you. Your cautious behavior emerged immediately, behaving akin to a prey animal around predators.

None of them wanted to see such hesitance and fear in your eyes again. Especially not while looking at them.

"Thanks, Papa Hades!"

You picked up Grim and happily scampered off with the Kit in tow.

~•§•~

"What was all of that about, Papa Hades?"

Alexandros looked to his elder for guidance, not sure why the older Shinigami would be so lax despite the less than favorable situation. The younger Shinigami was of the mind that caution was the best approach with your wellbeing, especially after your sudden illness. You were an unusual Human and therefore it took unusual methods to crack this new code.

"... Someone is interfering with her life force, Young Alexandros. A change has begun to come over her and I feel I know the cause. She is constantly wrapped in magic from an outside source. Tell me, young one, does that Magestone she wears mean anything to you?"

"I can't say it does. It does carry a heavier presence with it... In fact, I believe I recognize that presence. The Dragon Prince had a similar magic to that Magestone."

"I agree. Where it is unlikely every change is a result of that magic, it would be foolish to not take it into account as a possible source. Fae always were more resistant to blot than others. For now, the Little One deserves whatever time she can get to choose what she does and where she goes. Who knows what the future ultimately holds for her, and if it makes her happy, why not indulge where she is safe? I shall contact Young Ortho to keep a keen eye on her wellbeing. Perhaps she was shielded the worst of the effects."

~•§•~

You moved through the halls with a small smile on your face, happy to be free to explore as desired. Despite knowing the twins and Azul would be happy to teach you swimming as a Seal, Divus was the better choice thanks to him actually having experience and not relying on gills. Being later in the day meant the Selkie was free to join you and he had already offered to teach you what you needed to know.

As Grim continued to cuddle into your arms, you noticed that someone had fallen into step next to you. Due to his near silent footsteps, you almost didn't realize that Kalim was walking by your side with an excited smile on his face. He almost looked Human given the fact that he had legs now instead of his typical Genie tail.

"Hey there, (Y/n)!"

"Hi, Kalim."

"Good to see you are feeling better! How are you holding up?"

"I'm alright. How are you?"

"Good. You know, I actually wanted to come see you! I know you're going to choose your next dorm guards soon, so I wanted to see if you were going to pick someone today or not."

There was a kind of unveiled interest in the way the Genie spoke to you. Something about his oddly genuine behavior reminded you of the Harpy Neige. As you regarded him quietly, you noticed the tattoo eye on his forehead moved to stare at you. It had been pointed up above the two of you when he walked over, but now it stared at you intensely.

"I already chose Octavinelle due to a little mishap today in potions class."

"Oh no, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Ace just slid into a cauldron while we were making a potion and I got dunked into it. I don't even know why it caused such a change. It was supposed to be a color change potion and not... This. Now- for whatever reason- I'm a Selkie."

"Wow, I'm glad you're okay! Guess that means you want to learn how to swim and be a Selkie though! I can see why you chose Octavinelle. I was wondering if you wanted to come over to Scarabia for a party sometime soon? Jamil is a great cook and we were both thinking we could invite you over. Of course, Grim is allowed to come with too!"

You smiled at the playful Genie who had extended his hand in friendship to you. Unlike many of the other monsters you were around, Kalim was giving you a choice to spend time with him and the choice to turn him down if you wanted. There was a kind of genuineness in his actions that made you want to trust him despite knowing how all of these beasts would eventually fall into obsession with you. The simple fact that Kalim seemingly had not yet fallen into obsession interested you, but he could always be putting on a front to seem more detached than the others.

While you walked, you were so focused on Kalim you didn't even realize that the twin Eels were waiting for you when you got to the Hall of Mirrors. The pair glared at the Genie that was happily chattering away to you, both underwater predators glancing at one another before moving forward to greet you. Jade was quick to come up next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist to push you towards the Octavinelle dorm mirror. Floyd moved to your other side to hit Kalim with his shoulder, shoving the Genie to the side.

"Oops. Sorry, little Otter, didn't see ya there!"

"Oya, you should be more aware of your surroundings, Kalim. Regardless, it seems our lovely Selkie-Human has graced us with her presence."

"We got it from here, Otter."

Floyd flashed an intentionally fanged grin towards Kalim who seemed more thrown off than normal by the Eels behavior. You didn't have much time to watch Kalim's reaction as the pair ferried you towards the dorm mirror. Behind you, Kalim scowled for just a moment before a teeth-bearing grin pulled back onto his lips, the Genie quickly disappearing into the mirror of his own dorm.

"Come on, Shrimpy! Leopard Seal is already waiting for us in Octavinelle!"

~•§•~

Kalim felt tears bite at his eyes and sting with the unwelcome feeling of frustration as he hid in the shadow of the Scarabia dorm. He was okay with waiting for whenever Scarabia was selected to guard that precious Human, but this was becoming too much for him. The Genie understood that he was not the best when it came to protecting someone or even when it came to using magic, but he had been working hard to become better.

Truth was, (Y/n) had been haunting his thoughts ever since he successfully granted that wish for her. Both waking and asleep, Kalim had been plagued by all manner of imaginary scenarios that occupied his mind. From being selected as guards to being able to marry that precious Human, the heir to the Al-Asim family was consumed.

Even Jamil had taken such a sweet interest in the Human and longed to have her over to Scarabia for a meal. He had been practicing his cooking for the sole purpose of impressing (Y/n). Kalim was happy to use his own wealth to supplement funds for these cooking endeavors, just so the two could impress that magnificent Human. Though Genies did not need to eat food- as their true sustenance came from the residual magic other species let off in abundance- he still enjoyed the many things Jamil created.

He would just have to keep being patient. That kind Human would visit Scarabia soon enough... Jamil may have to keep Kalim entertained until then, though.

~•§•~

"Take your time, Puppy."

Divus soothed, next to you in the water and holding your smaller form up with his stomach. He had been thrilled when you reached out to him to learn how to be a Selkie. Where he wanted to take you on a fishing trip to catch whatever colorful creatures you two could find beneath the waves, he needed to ensure you could swim and hold your breath well enough first.

It was a harder adjustment for you than you expected, the flippers working differently than you anticipated when it came to swimming and general locomotion. Divus made it look so easy when you first started out, and his help was more comforting than you could even say. Even as he stayed next to you in the large salt-water tank, it was clear he was keen to make this a soothing experience for you.

Your seal body was smaller than his own so he used his size to help you navigate the water. Currently, his head was above water, but the rest of his tail was working to keep you elevated enough that your nose remained above the depths. Instinctually, you somewhat understood the aspect of swimming in this new form, but you were unfamiliar with the instincts themselves.

While you worked to learn how your body moved and functioned in water, your three newly appointed guards were close by. It was Azul who had suggested the tank be used first, knowing it only had harmless fish and corals within. It was the safest place for you to start your swimming journey and he was content to observe from the deeper parts of the water.

"Shrimpy makes a cute little Seal, doesn't she?"

"Quite the cute Seal. Why, I would even wager that fur coat of hers would sell for more than any other Selkie coat."

As the twin Eels spoke, their eyes never left the form of the Human-turned-Selkie. They were both rather predatorial when it came to other oceanic life, so it only made sense the pair were feeling some level of frustration to be relegated to simply observing. Azul was keen to prove himself and his dorm as competent when it came to guarding you, so he knew he would have to grab the tails of the twin Eels if they became too interested.

For now he simply watched, also keeping an ear out for that Kit of yours. Grim had wanted to stay with you but had a clear aversion to the deep waters, so Azul- begrudgingly- called in Leona to keep the young feline entertained while you swam. It burned to ask the Nemean Lion for help and that damnable grin the Lion flashed was seared into Azul's mind.

He had a golden opportunity- a singular chance to prove himself- and he was going to take it with both hands. The Cecaelia just needed to find a way to endear himself to Grim and (Y/n) without making himself look desperate. He couldn't let such an opportunity pass him by.

No matter what, Azul needed to win your affections in that short week, lest he lose his sanity for forever chasing your footsteps.

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

Pt.3: Nemesis Prime

TFP Optimus (Nemesis) x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

3K

Counting Stars

Pt.3: Nemesis Prime

Who is it? Who is walking among the river of memories? Holding into the hope of meeting what they desire ...

At the start of the beginning we walked in different paths,

At the end of the ending, we find each other in the same world ....

Who is it? Who is walking among the river of memories?

Your eyes adjust to the light as the cold makes your body shiver.

Not remembering much, you rub your arms to try and create heat with the friction. Your head hurts but you rub your belly, more concerned with the sparkling inside of you.

A bright light shines right in front of you. Putting a hand in front of your face to protect yourself from pain in your eyes from the blinding lights, you blink multiple times.

"Is that ... A human?"

"There's no way ... I thought they had become extinct after the end of the Great War."

    Suddenly, you are hit with memories. Megatron. The kids, in danger. Groundbridge explosion. You, in the middle of it. Optimus servo trying to reach you only for you to disappear from his grasp.

And you ended up here. An unknown, cold place.

"Should we bring it to Prime?"

    Hearing the title, you immediately stand up. You see Autobot emblems and feel relief to see that they were on the good side. You didn't know them but they couldn't be bad if they were Autobots ... right?

"No, we shouldn't bother him with such ... nuisance."

    His optics look up and down on you, a judging and disgusting look on his faceplate.

"I am sorry?" You ask, offended. "I am actually Prime's Sparkm–"

"But, Prowl, look, this one has a big belly and it's round!" he points at your stomach and you take a few steps back. "So squishable! Can we keep it?"

"Well," the Autobot with red spiky things in his helm, puts his faceplate close to you. You assumed his name is Prowl by what the other Autobot called him. "Its size could be helpful with cleaning out small organic materials stuck in our gears."

"Yeah, those tree-things give out a lot of leaves. I don't like the feeling of it," the other Autobot took a step further and picked you up on his servo. You feel colder, you could feel the cold emitting from his metal through the fabric of your clothes. "I don't know why Prime keeps insisting on keeping them, we should just cut them off and get rid of the problem."

"Jazz, you know how he gets when organic things get destroyed, let's not get there."

    From Jazz servo's you had a better view of the things around you.There are many buildings, so tall that you are unable to see the sky. A sense of megalophobia over-took you for a moment but quickly got over it after your mind made a few questions.

"I didn't know you had trees on Cybertron?"

    Where else could you be? Tall buildings, long roads that move among structures. Things that looked alien-like that your mind couldn't have words for. Especially, robots you had never seen before. But this doesn't tie down with Optimus' stories. Cybertron was supposed to be desolate, inhabitable. This place doesn't look completely dead, but it's as if a grey atmosphere had overtaken the entire planet but at least its people looked to be thriving.

"On Cybertron we didn't. But here, in the New Cybertron, well ... they are rare," Jazz says, he had a blue visor that protected his optics, or so you thought. "We almost ran out of trees during the Great War so after that Prime made a strict rule of not destroying organic materials."

"And that includes you," Prowl steps in, his mannerism a bit more aggressive.  "We'll follow protocol and keep you alive in the meanwhile but you'll have to prove your worth."

"But–"

You wanted to say something. It's not like you didn't want to work but you were pretty much pregnant and unable to move much or fast if required.

"Great!" Jazz interrupts.  "Don't worry, Prowl, I'll take care of it!"

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"I've been doing this for hours!" you say as you end up drenched in Energon and carrying leaves and bugs, pulled out of some Autobot's gears. "Can I at least talk to Ratchet? Or Arcee?"

    You ended up in a hangar. What kind? You weren't sure enough. A medical one probably. At least that's what you assumed by seeing so many Autobots with scratches and missing parts. It was quite gruesome. You had many questions. Was the war against the Decepticons still going on?

"How do you know those names? Are you friends with them?"

    Jazz asks and his very evident obliviousness angers you. You didn't expect him to know but that's what you've been trying to tell and explain but he or anyone just wouldn't listen.

    You wanted to scream, to tell him that he is an idiot and demand that you see Optimus right this moment.

But instead, you just sighed and sat down on the enormous berth under you.

"I want to rest," you say. "I am hungry."

"No resting, you still have many bots in line waiting to get their gears clean."

    Prowl looks at you. He didn't scare you but you know that he will make you do your job no matter the circumstances ... unless ...

"I am carrying a Sparkling," you tell them, rubbing your belly. "I am feeling really weak ... I think I need Energon."

    Prowl and Jazz look at you then at each other. The Autobot with a blue visor starts laughing like crazy while the more serious Autobot just looks away, hiding his evident smirk on his faceplate. Feeling more frustrated, embarrassed and tired, you cross your arms in front of your chest and avoid eye contact.

"You are such a funny human!" Jazz puts his face closer to yours, your entire being seemed to be a joke to him.  "A Sparkling? Cybertron hasn't had a single Sparkling, even way before  Prime lost the Matrix of Leadership."

    Your heart stops. For a brief moment just to beat faster than usual.

"... What?" you shake your head, not believing completely what Jazz had said. It must all be a product of your imagination.  "What do you mean he lost the Matrix of Leadership?"

"Well, it was to be expected since he annihilated all the Deceptions during the Great War," he continues, as he considers this information to be common history. "I wasn't there for most part but I heard Prime offline and punished anyone who dared speak against him."

"Optimus ... Killed Decepticons?"

    Suddenly, you feel a pain in your stomach, making your legs weak. You lose balance and fall on the large bert underneath you.

"Jazz–" Prowl notices your sudden change and tries to interrupt the talking bot. But not only that, you had called Nemesis by his old name.

    Prowl had heard the stories from others. From Ratchet mostly who only spoke of the matter once. The day he had arrived on Earth, Optimus was no longer a Prime. Having lost composure and killed mercilessly, Primus no longer considered him worthy. Prowl didn't remember Optimus being like that. He had wondered what had occurred for the Prime to lose all honor.    

And after insisting and insisting, Ratchet only said one thing to him.

"The things they did to them ... I can't blame Nemesis for doing what he did but ..."

"He is so scary but kinda weird too," Jazz didn't seem to be hearing Prowl nor seemed to care about your well-being.  "He demanded that every building in Iacon be so tall that the sky will be impossible to see at night because apparently he hates looking at the stars."

    Prowl just stays quiet, watching your reaction to his words. Looking for any hints that would tell him that he is going crazy. That his intuition is playing a joke on him. Because it can't be. Not. It can't.

"Without mentioning he didn't care that the war would make Earth inhabitable for humans."

"Earth?" you look up as breathing becomes difficult, your stomach pulsating as the pain increases. "But this is Cybertron, isn't it?"

"It's the New Cybertron, it used to be called Earth."

"No, no, he wouldn't–" your hands shake. You look around, trying to look for another human being. For any single indication that you are not alone. But there's nothing. The last trail of organic forms are not even human but trees. "What did you do to my home?"

"Your home?" Jazz's faceplate is still close, there is a cocky smile. Even devilish, as if he enjoyed watching you in distress.  "It's ours now."

"Jazz!" Prowl finally pushes him away. He gets closer to you, looking more gentle, and more curious about your being. "What is your name, little one?"

"My name is," you struggle to keep your eyes closed. The pain was too much and your body was beginning to give up. Tired, hungry, just trying to survive."My name is (Y/N)"

    And you slowly close your eyes and drift into slumber. Or that's what Prowl thought as he studies your body, it doesn't look like you were sustaining any injuries However, it seems you were low on energy. Maybe you were right, you did need Energon.

"Contact Nemesis Prime. Immediately."     Prowl says, without looking at Jazz who stood behind him.

"I don't think we should bother him–"

"Now."

    Prowl voice becomes heavy and louder. That's when Jazz knew it was his time to stop playing around.

"As you command."

    Prowl hears Jazz walk away. Meanwhile, his optics are still on you, his processor, playing memories of a conversation he shouldn't have heard of Ratchet talking to himself.

"If you saw Optimus right now, (Y/N), ... Would you still love him?"

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    A beeping sound wakes you up and you wish for everything that's sacred that you have returned to your dimension. That everything was a nightmare. That you are back in the loving servos of Optimus. Your Optimus. Not the one Jazz and  Prowl told you about. You can't fathom it. An Optimus that was capable of doing such things–

"Nemesis Prime will be coming soon."

    You hear a familiar voice and quickly turn your head. There you notice a big figure, white and red. Typing on a data screen, keeping his optics on your vital signs.

"If I were you, I would be ready to answer any questions he might have."

    You let out a heavy sigh, relieved to see a familiar face. But Ratchet looks tired. As if the years have already weighed on him. As he walks towards you, his gears can be heard. His joints do not move as smoothly as he used to. His pace is slower and you get the need to stand up and help him sit down.

"Ratchet–"

    He raises a servo, making a sign to you to stop talking.

Closing his eyes, he doesn't dare to look at you as if your mere presence was painful to him.

"Just ... Where," his voice glitches . "... Where were you?"

    You wanted to say something. Everything that you've been holding these past hours and yet nothing would come out of your lips.

"I ... I am not ... from here," you managed to murmur words that may not be loud enough for him to hear. "It was a mistake–"

"You died!" Ratchet screams and it's the only time you have ever heard him do so. "And you say it's a mistake?"

    Your heart beats faster than your mind can formulate questions, especially about what he just said. His optics show a kind of anger, the kind you never thought would come out of him. Ones that used to be so gentle, kind and now there is nothing but pain.

    The doors of the hangar open.

Revealing bots in arms, stepping aside to leave enough space for him to walk through.

    It looked like Optimus to you.

Yet there was something different about him that made you feel eerie. A tall and strong figure. His known blue and red colors were no longer present. Instead it was just grey and black metal. Yellow, empty, eyes and a battle mask. One that he would not put away.

"Status?"

    He simply asks and Ratchet doesn't look him in the eyes.

"She's organic," Ratchet says, his voice softer, delicate. "At first, I thought she might be a creation of the opposite faction ... But she's carrying a Sparkling."

    You didn't know if anyone else noticed but Optimus servo twitched just a little.

"Does ..." Nemesis struggles and this was the first time in a very long time Ratchet sees Nemesis hesitate. "Does the electromagnetic frequencies match my own?"

"... Affirmative."

    He doesn't move, yet his optics are on you. Studying you, watching your movements. And for a small second. Just for a very, very small moment ... you see his gaze soften.

"Leave us, at once."

    The bots by the door follow orders immediately while Ratchet takes a few more seconds to look at Nemesis. Only to leave, the door automatically closes behind him. Leaving you and a bot that looks like Optimus, alone.

    There is an indescribable silence. As he stands tall and intimidating. He waits for a few seconds before bending half of his body and his faceplate, once again close to you. His optics do not blink as if he was afraid you would disappear if he takes his optics away from you for a second.

    You know he won't harm you, if he wanted to he would have done so a very long time ago. Instead it's as if he is waiting for you to do something.

    But as you move closer, he flinches away.

That doesn't stop you. Reaching out a hand, you slowly make your way to him. This time, more brave, more courageous.

    You touch his battle mask and only after feeling your warmth, he allows himself to close his optics. Baskin and indulging himself in the feeling. And although you couldn't see his entire face, his yellow optics were expressive enough to let you know it's been a while.

A very, very, long time since he felt some sort of kindness.

    Under his bright yellow optics, you feel a cold emitting from him. Running down your spine, your body immediately shivers. The entire room is cold but he is more so.

    He notices this and he immediately puts a digit over his comm-link.

"Jetfire, collect human objects and build a small resting place. Round and soft items take priority."

A few seconds passed until a response was heard from the other side.

"Understood."

    The Prime stopped his previous actions only for his optics to find you once again. He puts a servo next to you and waits. You aren't sure what he wants you to do but you assumed he wanted some sort of interaction.

But you are uncertain.

You were about to reach out a hand. But he moves away. Walking backwards as if he was afraid.

Would he ever say something? Or was he waiting for you to start the conversation?

    But before you could say a word, Nemesis walks out of the medic room, leaving you with more questions than answers.

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A robot named Jetfire escorted you to Prime's private quarters. A building with a strange shape that humanity could have never thought of. Yet beautiful in its own uniqueness.

But the inside was cold and uncomfortable. Sharp edges and things spread out, monochrome colors. When you talked to Optimus about having a home, he often would say he would enjoy soft things. Round things. Small and cozy. Not ... whatever this was.

"Prime will be arriving soon. I suggest you," Jetfire puts you down on a table and looks at you. His optics looks up and down. "Become big."

"...Big?" you asked him, confusion clear in your voice.

"Our size?"

"This is as big as I get."

"Then how did that happen?" Jetfire points at your belly as your put your hands on top of it in an overprotective manner.

" Well um, he Mass-shifted," you simply say, not wanting to go into details. "Do I need to be more specific?"

"He ... Mass-shifted?"

"Isn't that something Cybertronians can do?"

"Yes but doing so is a sign of weakness. Vulnerability ... To think Prime would ever do that," he makes a pause. "And for a human ... It's strange."

    You don't think he has ever seen a human before. But you don't like the judging look on his optics. It's as if he was curious, however, wanting to know more of you but didn't know how to properly ask or if he could.

"... How was he?"

    The question took you by surprise.

"What?"

"How was he ... before all of this?"

    He was asking about Optimus and although the question surprised you, you didn't mind answering.

"Kind,"

    You responded.

His optics became wider and he tilted his head in confusion. He looked as if the words 'kind' and 'optimus' didn't go together. Yet, there was some bewilderment.

"And what else–"

"Jetfire,"

    The doors of the corridor open, announcing a new presence in the room. He is intimidating and Jetfire quickly adverts his optics, not wanting to see his faceplate.

    Everytime Prime speaks he doesn't direct a word to you. This made you impatient as you wanted to say more. You didn't like this place. You wanted to go home and back to Optimus. He must be worried. And Nemesis was your only chance but he didn't seem the type to want to listen to anyone.

"You are dismissed."

    Nemesis walks past him and walks towards you. His servos at the back, making you unable to see them.

"I'll wait for your next command," with that, Jetfire simply makes his way to the metallic sliding doors but as he turns around to leave, he catches a glimpse of Nemesis' back. Leaving him more concerned and surprised than ever.

The doors close.

Leaving you alone with Nemesis and you didn't know what to say. How to start? Should you say that you are not from this dimension? That you want to go home? There's people waiting for you, worried about your well being.

    Yet nothing would come out. Maybe because deep down ... You are scared of him.

And the feeling is so surreal. Nemesis looks exactly like Optimus. But he is not. No matter how much you wished for it to be so.

"Umm, hello?" your mouth quickly goes dry as you notice his optics' expression quickly change as you speak. "My name is (y/n)."

    What a stupid way to start a conversation, you thought. Your mind couldn't understand that the giant robot in front of you was still too stunned by your presence to say a word. The fact that he never took off his battle-mask wasn't helping either.

"I am not from here. It was an accident, a groundbridge explosion and–"

    But before you could explain further, a closed servo reaches out to you. So quickly, so fast that it startled you, making you move back a few steps.

Nemesis moves his other servo behind you, to prevent you from falling and as he feels you once again, he quickly removes that servo back.

    You could hear his vents. Louder and louder as you just look at him. His every action, a mystery to you.

He opens the other servo, and on it, lying on the middle of his palm, is a sunflower.

    It is dying, the petals slowly falling.

"For me?" you ask and he moves his helm up and down in a nodding gesture. You walk towards his servo, make your way up and pick up the flower. But you feel something else. Underneath your feet, Nemesis' servo trembles.

    And you don't need to see his entire faceplate to know what he feels. His optics told you everything.

There's pain. So much of it.

    You wonder of the things he had gone through to have changed this much. You wanted to know it all. Of everything. To listen to him and know his sorrows, to share the burden of his sins.

You make your way down his servo and you are tempted to ask him to mass-shift. So you could hold him properly. Listen to him, give him the care he needs.

But ... It doesn't feel right.

"Thank you, I–"

    But he turns and walks away. Leaving you once again alone and baffled.

Without you noticing, he extended his servo and clutched it one again into a fist, trembling and so strong he thought he might break it. Trying to suppress all his feelings he couldn't tell you just yet.

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Previous>

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/773493337592332288/counting-stars?source=share

Next (Special Chapter) :

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/776307984290725888/counting-stars?source=share

[bloomzone]

The Art of Self love (wonyoung edition)

✒️..In a world often obsessed with external validation and comparisons, the journey toward self-love is both empowering and transformative. One individual who truly embodies this is for example : Jang Wonyoung her mindset and approach to life have become a beacon of positivity and self-acceptance for many. Beyond her fame and talent, her journey provides a roadmap for anyone seeking to understand how to love themselves unconditionally and stay authentic in a world that’s constantly changing. Let's into the art of self-love as seen through her lens. firssst :

ஐ- Embrace Your Authenticity

wonyoung is the embodiment of authenticity. She has openly shared that loving who you are, flaws and all, is the foundation of inner peace. “I wholeheartedly love the person that I am,” she says, and this belief is key to her self-love journey. It's about being real with yourself and not allowing external pressures or the opinions of others to dictate your worth.

In her case, wony often finds herself in the public eye, yet she doesn't let the spotlight make her feel like she has to pretend to be something she's not. She reminds us that self-love comes from within, and it’s rooted in accepting your true self without masks or filters.

ஐ- Cultivate Inner Strength

A significant part of her self-love is her unwavering strength. She stands firm in her beliefs, and that makes her both resilient and grounded. When facing criticism or tough situations, her mindset is simple: “I’m focused on what matters, and I know who I am.” the ability to remain unshaken by external negativity allows her to stay confident in her own skin. So Inner strength doesn’t mean avoiding challenges, but rather facing them with grace and the confidence that they won’t define you. It’s about building a mindset that no matter what life throws your way, you trust yourself to navigate it. (This is another topic )

ஐ- Embrace Imperfections

It’s easy to get lost in the desire for perfection. We all have areas in which we feel we could be better, but Wonyoung reminds us that our imperfections are what make us unique. She doesn’t strive to be flawless, and neither should we. Embracing who we are imperfections included is a vital part of the self-love journey. She doesn’t try to hide her vulnerabilities; instead, she embraces them. She says, “I am not perfect, and that’s okay,” which is a powerful message in a world that constantly pushes for unattainable standards.

ஐ- Set Personal Boundaries

In her career, Wonyoung has learned the importance of knowing her limits. She understands that in order to protect her mental health and energy, setting boundaries is crucial. Whether it’s not overexerting herself or stepping back from toxic situations, she knows when to say no.Boundaries are an essential part of self-love because they ensure you don’t burn out or allow others to drain your energy. Wonyoung teaches us that saying no is not a sign of weakness but a necessary act of self-respect. It’s about preserving your peace and prioritizing your well-being over external demands.

ஐ- Practice Gratitude

Gratitude plays a central role in Wonyoung's self-love. She often expresses how thankful she is for the support of her fans, her family, and her team. This gratitude grounds her and reminds her of the beauty that surrounds her, even during tough times. She believes that by focusing on the things you’re thankful for, you can shift your energy toward positivity and attract even more to be grateful for.A simple practice of gratitude can transform your mindset. Whether it’s taking a moment every day to reflect on what you're grateful for or reminding yourself of the good things in your life, cultivating gratitude enhances your self-love and helps you stay grounded.

ஐ- Encourage Self-Love in Others

While Jang Wonyoung is undoubtedly focused on her own journey, she doesn’t keep her message of self-love to herself. She encourages others to love themselves and recognizes that her platform gives her the ability to inspire others. She hopes that through ive songs presence, and personal messages, others can learn to embrace their own uniqueness and start their own journey of self-love.This sense of community and support is essential. When you love yourself, you automatically encourage others to do the same, creating a ripple effect of positivity and self-empowerment.

So, take a moment today to celebrate yourself, with all your imperfections and all your strengths. Trust that the journey you’re on is exactly where you need to be, and remember—self-love is the key to creating a fulfilling and joyful life.

@bloomzone 📇

[zzencat]

Why Do I Still Feel Unsatisfied? - Timeless Reading (for anyone)

When things are content and slow, going normally as one would expect, you still feel like there’s something not quite right—something missing. Now what? Are you supposed to be happy? You have everything you need…what is there to complain about? Why is life so stale? So boring? Am I doing enough in my life? What is this stagnant energy?

Note: Social media may have an influence on these feelings.

- Remember: clear your mind. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, fill up your chest to the fullest, feel the air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. Choose the photo that you can’t take your eyes off of.

——————

Pile 1. To Speed Up or To Slow Down.

You might be in denial. You try to think that you’re okay and you’re doing well enough—you have everything you need to survive, so what’s the matter with you? What’s the hold up? Are you going out on the weekends to the same places? Maybe repeating the same old routine, with or without friends? Perhaps you’re staying home and indulging in the same habits every weekend. Why are you just lounging around in the kitchen or living room with an oversized shirt and running your hands through your hair, wondering what to do now that you have time? It’s getting boring and you need some spice to your life.

Try looking into a hobby that you had interest in during childhood. Maybe you were shunned for having a such an interest. Do you do a lot of online shopping? Have you ever wanted to start your own business or clothing line? Honestly, to me it feels like you’re financially stable or on your way there and you know you will be. But it feels passionless. Maybe you had passion in the beginning and it died out. The excitement wasn’t there anymore, or maybe you had to be in this profession because you had to. To impress parents, guardians, the people around you. I feel like this group could do well with a side hustle or multiple. You seem like well-adaptable people so you could deal with the uncertainty and unpredictability. You also seem very friendly, like a team player type of person. You do what your told, and have small moments where you count as “rebellious.” Perfectionistic. My mind keeps going back to this…maybe you want to open up your own online shop? Or clothing/beauty brand or business? You might struggle when things get too quiet at a hangout with your friends or other people, maybe feeling pressured to say something or lighten the mood. For some reason, it’s always your responsibility to do something. Who put that on you? Where did you learn that from? That you should take charge and try to do something or else it’s your fault? Why do you feel inclined to do that? These would be good questions to think about.

The Challenge For You: Pick up a hobby and perfect it. It helps to record yourself working on this hobby, mistakes and all, and post it somewhere where people can see. Closest friends, family, or complete strangers. The reaction will make your more relatable and you’ll gain a lot of support. I’m seeing a soft smile and a genuine pat (“you’re doing good! you got this!” vibe) from your friends or people online. For example, “Day 1 of playing the violin” or “Day 30 of frisbee throwing”. This group seems to be heavily reliant on validation, internal or external. You need people to be there to see when you’re doing well, and people shouldn’t see your mistakes and if they do, you’ll try to move on while beating yourself up in your head. Very perfectionistic and while this helps you in your career or professional life, you should allow yourself to make mistakes, laugh about it, and be more soft towards yourself. Perhaps you got shamed for making a bunch of mistakes when you were younger, taught that mistakes aren’t okay and that you should be perfect, but all the energy here—from my spirit team to yours—is telling you that it’s okay to not get it the first time. Humans are meant to adapt and grow. There’s no fun in getting something the first time around. It’d be beginner’s luck. It’s about the journey and what you put into it that will add tremendously to your charm. It makes you human and it makes you, you. So learn to forgive yourself and build up that confidence.

Points of Interest: xxfj vibes, but mainly isfj/infj, nurse, libra, middle person/mediator, trying to get out there more, lowkey don’t want to socialize all the time but is forced to (whatever this may mean to you, take it), needing validation from others bc your own doesn’t count, suppression, “busy is good”, inner loneliness, void in heart, helping others but not yourself, “was it always this quiet or was i just used to the noise?”, slow down, hustle culture, “this is what I should be doing” (very vague, could mean different things…but this definitely applies to people in this pile), people pleaser…messy hair, in a rush, busy, busy, busy…“Damn it- why isn’t this thing working?!”, coffee, too much coffee, “dude, are you okay?”, stress, “living life in the fast lane as they say…” (for some reason, maria by justin bieber came up- we got any beliebers in here?), social media, parents, boss, workplace, Jane(?), idk why the black mirror episode called “joan is awful”, “I’ll take what I can get”, don’t want to burden other people, fear of humiliation, standards on other people are not as high as the standard you put on yourself, anxious, always moving, check, check, check…restless energy, “it’s on me”, responsibility…

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Pile 2. “I guess…” is not an answer.

This pile floats between pile 1 and 3 but leaning towards 1. The people in this group could share many of the same doubts and feelings as pile 1. But I will say, if you felt drawn to all or any of the other two alongside this one, I suggest you reading those as well. This gives me very infp vibes. Shy but likes to/would like to dress up a bit more, follow the fashion culture, find your own style. There’s a bit of a childlike nature to this group and I’m not sure what it is. Like maybe a financial insecurity or you want to date someone really badly. Like a person who watches a bunch of kdrama’s but never goes outside OR you do go outside and you don’t have the balls to ask someone out. I’m getting couch potato but a cute one. Curled up in a blanket and binge watching in bed. Watching other people chase their dreams and goals while you’re still wondering what yours are. Do you binge-watch a lot of shows or movies? I feel confused reading this pile, as if I’m supposed to be looking for something but I’m either not mature enough or I just don’t know what to look for. Probably struggles with parasocial-ness. Very online, maybe chronically online, if I might add. Maybe you’ve never gone out on a date before. If you did, you’d be super awkward, say something dumb on accident, giggle too much, or just full on shy, laughing a lot, red faced. Do you struggle with a lot of anxiety? A lot of daydreaming or fantasizing. If your friends ask you to go out with them, you either say yes immediately or you make up an excuse of why you can’t go just to lounge at home. But I feel frustrated. I don’t know where to look. Maybe you prefer to rock out with your headphones, blast music, and have a dance party in your room by yourself. Timid. Can be sassy at times. Probably dramatic. Do you still live with your parents, by any chance? I’m getting middle class to lower upper class, maybe even upper (but a lot less so.) Kind of spoiled energy. Maybe people have done things for you your whole life or have chosen the path for you to be on already. Maybe they’ve made decisions for you your whole life.

The Challenge For You: Go outside more and be more observant of people, especially if you think you struggle with social ineptness. If you’re timid, maybe your voice is too quiet that it draws people’s attention or you’re so anxious that you do something loud or reckless that captures attention. Do you have an interest in something that you could capitalize on? Like something in the arts? Maybe you can sell art online, draw for people, get yourself out there without engaging in fights online—it’s not worth your time, I promise. Put your phone down and read a book. Find something you like outside your phone or on any of your devices. This group seems constantly overstimulated with devices that you can never just sit and stare at the wall for a minute. It would help for you to think about the future for a little bit, even if it overwhelms you. If you’re in high school, get a part time job or do research on something you like. Practice gratitude and acknowledge the things that you have that others don’t. There’s a lot of immaturity, emotionally as well, in this pile, like you haven’t figured yourself out yet and you’re just waiting for things to fall into place. If I had to sum this up, it would be to pursue something that you can’t let go of and don’t let other people decide for you. Be more assertive and work on leadership skills. Work on time management as well. Laziness could also be an issue. Find yourself.

Points of Interest: infp vibes, dreamy, pursed lips, fidgeting, immaturity, “maybe if I dress normal, I’ll look normal”, dresses in all black, oversized shirts, beanies(?), don’t bring attention to me, small handwriting or circular letters, pink lead pencil, makes hearts on your “i’s”, secret romantic, easily jumps to conclusions, expectations, “daddy bought it for me”, be more thankful, ambition where?, do something you love and make a job out of it, oversleeping, “i don’t wanna think about it”, impulsivity, anxiousness, effort, purpose, going with the flow…

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Pile 3. “Let’s get this over with.”

Feeling very much a laaaarge lack of energy here. Very drained pile—emotionally, physically, mentally, some or all. Sometimes you feel it’s tiring to keep smiling, like you have to force it to seem okay. You’re in need for some warmth in your life, maybe some hugs or people telling you they’ll be there for you (and mean it), but you may or may not express this need to people; I’m mostly feeling that you keep to yourself a lot, not wanting to burden people. Very introverted energy, like “I’m just here” energy. If you go out, you don’t talk a lot or you need a drink/substance to help you loosen up and talk/act. Are you always tired? Staying up late and staring at a screen, or struggling with insomnia? Or it’s the opposite and you sleep too much—the whole day. Lethargic energy. There’s not much to say about this pile because I think you already know what to do, you just struggle. This could be a health issue or concern that you’re not taking seriously. Are you taking vitamins? I’m getting a zombie or very sedated state. Skin losing color and dark eye bags or under eye circles. Could struggle with depression. You don’t want to be forgotten but you want to be alone. You’re okay with solitude. Maybe you struggle with motivation in general, or motivation to take care of yourself, again, health is coming up—other people could be concerned about you and they tell you or they don’t. I would take a closer look regarding your friend group and maybe reconsider who you’re letting in your world. They could be impacting you for worse. You could be good at photography or have an interest in it. Half-assing most projects or assignments. You probably answer texts late, never answer, or give really short responses. I’m getting the sense that you really just want to exist without judgment or being perceived. Like living like a ghost and move through life seamlessly. You could have a knack for pc games or computer science. Either way, take a shower. You might feel cold often or experience coldness easier than your friends.

The Challenge For You: Join clubs where you know no one. Go alone and make it a secret space for yourself and go for at least 8 months. You’ll find that it can be therapeutic. Yoga classes with old ass ladies can help since they’re just focused on stretching. Find some friends that are ambitious but unmovable, like good leaders. They could influence you to take better care of yourself. Next, find friends that actually care about you and your health, not the “do whatever you want; it’s your life” type of friends. You should visit a sauna some time or go on vacation to a warm-hot country. You could even move there and you would be even slightly happier than now. I would encourage you to seek therapy—with a GOOD therapist. Either you haven’t had the interest or time or you haven’t had a good experience with therapy at all—do not give up. Maybe a counselor at school works. If not, move onto the next option. Confide in better friends, friends that can physically help you get up and move out of your slump, not ones that encourage/enable the bad habits. It’s time to turn your life around pile 3—I seriously think that I don’t need to be telling you these things cuz you already know. You’re definitely not dumb- you just lack motivation. Talk to someone about it or find friends that force you to change your life for the better, the ones that drag you out to go to the park with them. Get out of your comfort zone and start moving. Get that blood moving around your body—someone needs to force you to run, but after a shake rich in protein.

Points of Interest: headphones (maybe AirPod max), cozying up in the corner where people can’t see you, smoking, grey skies, crows, photography, good camera, still camera, cold hands, bitten nails, blue fingers, shrugs, poor blood circulation, pale skin, eating issues (eating too little or too much), needing dopamine and finding easy ways to get it, “i don’t care”, still lack of motivation, sunshine, grumpiness, unchanged sheets, old white tank top (for some reason), your room could use some cleaning, exercise…

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That is all!! I hope you have enjoyed. Feedback is heavily appreciated and I would love to see what pile you chose in your reblogs! As a new reader, I’d like to get as accurate as possible when it comes to picking up energy and doing these readings for you. Remember to take what resonates, leave what doesn’t! Let me know what was accurate for you :) Thank you for coming to my Teddytalk today. (sorry it’s a lame joke ik jsfkdjs)

[mandy-asimp]

Cards and Clay

Lilia Calderu x Potter! Reader

Summary: you move into town and start a new pottery place, you bring in much business and are pleased with your tiny living. Or so you think that's what's happening.

Warnings: language, smut (leaving this simple so you get the surprise), teasing, pet names, lemme know if I missed anything?

A/n ~ bye chat this is lengthy. I mean it. I was being honest when I said I love plot procrastination to the smut. But shiii I got it done🙂‍↕️

You just finished your first full week of your own pottery shop. It was honestly becoming a dream come true. You rented one of the newer apartments about ten minutes down the road, which was when you could tell the whole area was in need of renovations. Yet, with enough media promotion and the help of your friends, you managed to put a name on the map.

The weekend was ahead, and it would be busy for the Saturday lessons you offered. They would begin around eleven, giving you plenty of time to sleep in and even set up.

You were basically done cleaning up, the last thing was to rotate everything in the kiln. Which would've been completed, until the bell at the front door rang. "Oh! Sorry, we're closed!" You had called from the back, wiping the pottery off your hands onto the apron. By the door stood a curious-looking lady. Her hair pinned up and the curls fell down freely, some framing her face. Her eyes. Those were the next thing you had taken in. They were big, brown, and full of adventures you were for sure of it. They dropped against your body and you found yourself standing straighter and at attention.

"Can I help you?" You gave her your sweetest customer service voice possible. Hands coming to clasp in front of you and your head tilted. A few stray hairs falling with.

"I wanted to come see what was dragging in the business. Just not during it being an open business." She flashed you a softer smile, one that you could let your guard down to just a bit.

So you did, your shoulders had visibly relaxed and your chest didn't feel as tight. "Oh! Well it's just me and a dream here." You chuckled, a hand at the back of your neck. "I live in the apartment right down the street as well so I'm practically always here."

"I'm in the tarot shop across the street, so I know what you mean. This is cute, a nice addition I'd say." She hummed out, eyes roaming the space once more with a finger wagging in the air. You lightly laughed and held out your hand, giving her your name with a welcoming smile. "Lilia Calderu, how did someone like you get here anyways?"

"Like I said, me and a dream here. I went to college for a business degree, learned how to run a company, minored with an art degree. Work in between all that. All because I had a dream and gave my trust to the universe and here I am. My dream come true." You rambled a bit about yourself, knowing you could go deeper into all of it. But it was the simple version of your life.

Lilia enjoyed the way you spoke so passionately about something. She had forgotten how pure some people could still be within this grueling world. "It's nice to know some people still dream."

"Saying you don't dream?" You raised a challenging brow and crossed your arms. "You don't have something that keeps you going everyday even though the world sucks?"

"You sound so generic," she scoffed with a sly smirk. "I'm long past the dreaming age anyways. I've gotten content with my solo life. But you keep dreaming. I should get going though, it was nice meeting you."

You nodded slightly and watched her go. Standing like a mannequin until she opened her shops door. Once she was inside, you sighed happily and got back to work.

As for Lilia, her night concluded with her fiddling with cards as you seemed to run around in her mind. She felt silly if she used the cards in such a childish manner. Even when she groaned and placed the deck back down to the table. What was it about you?

~

A few weeks had rolled by and you had began a steady pace with work. Along with building deeper relationships with your students. A particular group you enjoyed was with Agatha, Alice, and Billy. They always knew something about someone.

You once asked them about Lilia, silently curious about the woman across the way. "She's been here ever since I could remember." Agatha started the talk. "She lives alone over there. In the back of her shop."

"She's gay. I can tell you that as well. There's no way she isn't." Billy pitched in. The fact earned him a silence and stares. "I went over there once for a reading. She's one weird, but sweet lady really."

You eyed Alice, she sat silently while working with her clay. "You got anything to add Alice? Anything I should be aware of?" You brushed your hair off your nose, getting a little bit of clay on your cheek.

"She's a quiet lady. I've never had trouble with her." Her eyes were focused to the spinning wheel, like she physically couldn't meet your gaze.

"Alice slept with her." Agatha snorted. Inflicting a heavy blush to the other as her head shot up and she began to deny the accusation.

You and Billy were left to witness the debate while trying not to holler with laughter. "It's ok anyways! Everyone's got their own thing. Whether you did or didn't, she seems nice. Except her shop is always dead. She gets maybe one or two customers if she's lucky?"

"Watching your new crush?" Agatha finally turned to tease you. Wiggling her brows and making kissy faces at you.

Your head shook and a smile was there, "hardly could say I have a crush. She an old lady who lives by herself, so what if my mind can't help to wonder if she's lonely. Anyone would. I just hope nothing bad happens." You finalized, pouring the rest of your focus into the yarn bowl you were attempting.

It wasn't until closing again that Lilia became your minds only focus. You were already set on grabbing take-out before heading home, and suddenly found yourself at her shops door knocking against the glass.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you waited. Maybe she was asleep, or busy...or maybe even out..wherever she was you thought up a million conclusions until the door opened. Lilia stared up to you with furrowed brows.

Your name fell from her lips in a whisper, "What are you doing here?" She searched briefly over your person to find an answer. Her posture had seemed like she had been caught of something.

"I couldn't help but wonder, if you'd care to join me for dinner? It's usually what I grab on my way home on Fridays and I figured since you hadn't left yours for a while maybe it'd be nice for a change?" You were wincing at your own words. It was a brave invite alone, and you didn't anticipate how effective her being this close to you would be.

Lilia stood in much looser clothing. Patchy pants that were a variety of dulled colors, it fit with the silky cover up that draped her shoulders. Her shirt was the darkest piece, the neck line dropping enough to expose her chest. And her hair was up in a messy ponytail again.

"How sweet of you, but I've already had my dinner. Maybe next time though doll, I'm sure you're amazing company." She bid you a goodbye and the door was closed again.

But for the next three weeks, she continued to decline your offer. Simply, the fourth week you left her with little choice. You knocked against her door and patiently waited like normal. Only this time when the door opened, you didn't wait for pleasantries.

"This is the fourth week. I would invite you, but I know you'll say no. And I know you haven't actually eaten because your house doesn't smell like cooking, not even thirty minutes before. One dinner and if I'm really that bad, I will never bother you again." You held the door from closing with your foot against the frame. "We can have it here and everything."

Lilia eyed you for a moment. You really were persistent with getting to know her. So..she sighed and opened the door further. Slightly grinning as you squealed before rushing in. The smell of good take-out wafting into the air.

Your body buzzed with excitement as you began to set everything on the table as she grabbed plates and glasses for each of you. Even as you finally sat across from her, you couldn't help the beaming smile that touched your eyes.

"You really wanted to have dinner with me?" She chuckled, being the first to start plating food. You eyed her wised hands before following suit.

Your head nodded, "a woman like you is alluring. I bet you have stories to be told and nobody knows them. I wanna know all of them." You missed her hesitation as she really eyed you now. Too busy putting noodles onto your plate.

"Well I do have a few. But what are they to you? Don't you know other people who can give you better stories?" She raised, knowing you had built connections with many people through your art. How deep you could take someone with a piece of clay and a conversation.

Your head bobbed in agreement, "I mean yeah I guess, but at the same time I've failed at many connections. Pottery is selective just like tarot is. I've heard the art stories and so on, but I haven't heard yours yet. So, what crazy adventures has Lilia Calderu been on?"

That night she had told you a variety of stories. The funny ones, the ones that put you on the edge of your seat and make you wonder how she managed, ones that were sad, all of them. As many as she could because finally, someone wanted to pay attention to her and hear everything she's accomplished.

The lingering fear of being forgotten soon seemed to cower into a corner with you around. She liked it. She liked this feeling of freeness. She liked not being alone suddenly. Even as her big doey eyes watched your cheeks burn pink from laughing so hard, she couldn't get enough of it.

"My my, Lilia!" You huffed down your giggles. "I knew I wanted to know your stories for a reason! You are a woman of many lives." You leaned against your hand as you stared at her. "I wish I could've lived that all with you, sounds so much better than an average k-12 childhood."

"You're telling me, the one with the pottery shop, was average? You made your dreams come true, didn't you?" It was her turn to shine the spotlight.

"Nothing special about me. Ran around as a kid. Hid in the closet once I figured out what it was. Came out, got told it was just a phase. And then I kept quiet mostly till I got to college. Explored, studied, graduated, job, dream job. That's basically it." You sighed, taking a sip of water.

"Mm, I never labeled myself. That's the thing with the younger generations, so desperate for a label." She rolled her eyes, then suddenly they were on you with a small challenge behind them.

"Sometimes a label makes them feel validated. Gives worth to something. Haven't you ever wanted a title?" You quirked a brow to her, her move.

"It's sad you need a title to have worth," she shot.

"Says Madame Calderu?" You dodged and returned fire, only not missing.

Lilia sighed and put her hands up in surrender. Chuckling out a "you got me" before crossing her arms again. "This was nice, thank you."

"Well it only took four weeks of perusing, but I think it was well worth it....why exactly did it take four week?" Your tone curved the outcome of the night unbeknownst to you.

"I had eaten those three other weeks. You caught me when I was behind on schedule." She attempted to turn down the topic nicely. She really had no excuse except she thought you were taking pity on her. Now she could see that that wasn't true.

"Ok and I own the Mona Lisa." You mocked, earning a kick under the table. It made your eyebrows furrow quickly. "What? Can I not call out bullshit when I hear it? If you're gonna lie at least lie to me better." Another kick. "Alright! Geez lady, gonna leave me all bruised."

"Good, maybe it'll teach you some manners." She cocked her head briefly. You laughed, throwing your head back with a wide smile.

Continuing as you started cleaning up the table. "I'll have you know my mother raised a well mannered woman! I graduated the nicest in class, so I speak for myself."

Lilia stood and grabbed at the plates, her hip bumping yours. "Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night."

You shook your head while putting the empty containers into the plastic bag. "I tell myself a lot of positive things before bed. Tonight it'll be complimenting myself for finally getting dinner with you." You turned to her with a cocky gleam.

The woman just squinted her eyes and sighed out. "You're an interesting one, ya know that? That average Joe crap doesn't suit you at all."

This time you let out a snort, a hand covering your mouth and nose instantly. "You're making me blush, Lilia! But truly, if I can figure out what interesting thing you see, I'll cut the Joe out."

"Anything named Joe should be cut out. Especially the men named Joe." She rambled only slightly. You hummed in agreement anyways, trying to stay serious with her. "I knew a Joe once, he was nothing good. Just caused me problems on problems. Had to bail him out twice before deciding enough was enough."

You smirked, "does that mean I can call you next time I'm in trouble?"

"As if you would get in trouble. You're a good girl there's no doubt about it. Matter of fact, I know why you really came." She lead you towards the small lounge area. Sitting in the chair facing the window and melting into the cushions. Missing the subtle pink on your face.

You sat across in the other chair, your back to the shinning moon. Although you got to see how the moon reflected against her. Highlighting the silver in her curls. "And what did I really come here for?"

"You've learned of something and you want to help me. But I can reassure you I'm fine. I will keep moving and settle somewhere else." She eyed you curiously, watching as your mouth opened and closed. You were caught. "I appreciate the thought though. It's nice to know someone's not forgotten me."

Your brows furrowed and you frowned. "Lilia you do know living is impossible in this day and age. I'm 35 and just moved out my parent's basement. Where are you really going to go? Not saying I doubt you or anything," you already knew where you were taking this entire conversation.

"I've managed my life this much. I can manage a few more years." She shrugged it down to a mere distraction. Only for it to eat an annoyed groan from across the way.

"You so have no plan and you're accepting that! That is like the worse plan of hoping things work out I've ever heard!" You couldn't help the need to express your opinion suddenly. Even though she had never even asked or told you for sure she was getting evicted. "What happened if you don't find anything? You're just gonna be homeless?"

She knew her circumstances weren't the greatest, but what was she really to do? "I'm sure I'll find something, worst case is an old people home. Don't worry so much about me, baby."

You couldn't help it though. Ever since she introduced herself to you, you couldn't help but worry about her. "I can't help it. You're here just alone 24/7. I hardly see you leave to even get groceries."

"You pay too much attention to my life then," she chuckled. You could tell it was in attempt to change the topic to something, anything else.

"Lilia. I'm serious." Your features rested as your eyes held all your emotions.

She stared at you for a long second. Just staring. The dark chocolate swirls of her eyes werwarmer than ever before in the moonlight. "What would you like me to do then?" She wasn't giving you any sass, it was her genuinely asking you.

You leaned forward, resting your arms on your thighs and you thought. Trying to think of anything you could possibly do to help her. It looked more like you were studying her carpet than thinking....your study. It was a spare bedroom, surely big enough for her. It's not even in the works, still a board of inspiration on Pinterest. She could come live with you. You make enough to cover and with the extra money you still have left over.

Lilia watched as it clicked into place for you. Seeing the glimmer of hope find its way to your eyes highlight. "I have an extra room." You began, raising a finger as she was about to speak. Her eyes widen, "you honestly have no room to argue. No rent, nothing. But in request you help at the shop sometimes?"

She sat silent, just hard staring you."You drive a hard bargain, you know that? You must do this often if you're this good at it." Lilia caved with a huff. You made a strong point anyways. "But you forget, the clay is all your thing."

Your smile was back, "I'll teach you! I'm closed on Sunday's, so it'll be the perfect day to introduce you to the shop and all the things you'll need to know. I won't make you do anything too hard, I promise." your hand extended over the coffee table. "Do I have a deal?"

Her eyes dropped to your hand, she took it with hers. "Fine, you have yourself a deal."

But you didn't really expect the outcome of the deal after a few months of it. You learned of Lilia's habits at home quickly. Like how she's very neat, but also loves a little bit of clutter. For example the tv stand is lined with her crystals and other tarot decks. She kept a specific one on the coffee table however, perfectly stacked and only she touched it.

Although, you couldn't help yourself one night. She had already gone off to bed and you had to do the order before you forgot. Your hands were delicate with them, scared that one touch would make the paper incinerate right before you.

They were what you assumed average. That was until you pulled your flashlight out to really look at the art work and paint. Each card was hand painted and sealed, the gold 'L.C' in the corner of them told you exactly who did it as well. She hand made her deck and just left them lying about like they were everyday cards.

It gave you the perfect idea for a birthday gift for her, seeing as the day was already a few days away. The topic of gifts hadn't come up at all, even when you did try and bring it up, she gave you practically nothing. Yet now you analyzed her personal cards and had to make a matching holder for them.

Your nights at the shop had begun to drag till almost eleven as you hunched over the dried holder. Painting details that matched to the cards, wiping them off after concluding they weren't perfect, only to repaint them. It was like this for almost two weeks. It was two weeks you hardly saw your roommate or even asked her to come in.

The Friday leading to her birthday, was the first time you'd been home at a reasonable time. Not that ten was any better, but when you unlocked the door and got in, Lilia was waiting with a wine glass in her hand.

"Look who's finally home." She was sarcastic about it. Like she was upset that this was another late night with no text, call, or explanation. "Two weeks and this is the first time I'm seeing you."

"You miss me?" The joke rolled from your tired tongue. You trudged to your room, placing your bag down and ridding of your day clothes into a black long sleeve and red plaid boxers. "I'm sorry, the shop has been really busy with the schools on break. Everyone's doing homemade gifts in class and then there's just the everyday pieces. I plan to have everything fired and ready for pick up tomorrow, then I'm closed for like three days."

"So you've been busy, I could've come to help. It is the deal." She got up to pour you a glass, except you just grabbed hers and took a sip. Her brown eyes stalked you talking a sip.

Your face contorted and you waved her back down. Getting up to get your own juice and pouring it into a matching glass. "It wasn't anything I couldn't have handled. Plus a lot of it was kiln work, I didn't teach you anything about Kit."

"Kit? Who's Kit?" Her brows furrowed as she took another sip. You both sat on the couch, you turned to stare at her fully with both legs crossed, while she had one leg bent and leaned against her fist to face you.

"The kiln. He's honestly the only man I would ever allow into my life. Except it seems that people don't take kindly to a kiln being picked over them." You bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged. Really not hearing the issue even as Lilia laughed at you.

"You don't understand how a big oven being picked would offend someone? You do know what you look like and your personality right?" She raised that perfect brows. You loved when she looked at you like this, you knew it meant she was teasing you and meaning it with humor.

"I could look and act like anyone," you tilted the glass at her. "I don't know, maybe I like me and my ceramics. They can never really break my heart. It's easier to trust the Earths natural gifts than an unpredictable human with my heart."

"That's playing it safe, baby." She spoke so softly. Yet every word dug into your brain to the core. Lilia downed her glass and stood up, "I'm turning in for the night. Do you need any help at the shop with all the pickups?"

You knew you brought home hers, so she had no chance of seeing it early. "That'd be really nice, thank you. Have a goodnight, Lilia." You stayed on the couch as she headed for her door. Ignoring (attempting to) how sudden the couch felt without her.

~

The next morning you were up and making Lilia's favorite breakfast. Well...maybe not her favorite, she never outright said it. A lot of things you know of her are honestly from the context of her stories. It was working though, you always seemed to know your way with her.

"You're up early?" Her voice echoed into the kitchen space. She stood in her silk pajamas. They were yellow stripes but they suited her. "Cooking as well?"

"It's a thank you for helping me since it'll be busy today." You spun around, finding her leaning against the counter and staring at you. Yet, you couldn't figure out how she was staring. It was a look you've never seen before from her. "If you're too tired you don't have to."

"No, no...nothing like that. What are you making? Or attempting to make?" She brushed it off and was switching her stare to something more teasing and delightful.

Your nose scrunched up, "I'll have you know a wise woman once said she enjoyed my cooking in the morning. But if you must, it's French toast with cinnamon and strawberry frosting. Served cutely with a cup of coffee."

"Now you're spoiling me. Is it really gonna be that busy?" Lilia watched you plate the breakfast and serve her first. Giving her a show of garnishing. "You should hope you're wrong."

You smirked, knowing you weren't wrong. "And if I am, then this'll have been me spoiling you because I'm sorry I've been out late with no word." You hummed before turning to start your own breakfast. "It'll be nice anyways. Billy's been asking about you recently so he'll be excited to see you. So will Agatha, she doesn't verbally show her liking for people but it's in her actions and expressions sometimes. And her pottery, she really pours her emotions out. Alice also enjoys your company, she said you and Jen, that's her roommate though we all know they're together, would be good friends." You were rambling on about everyone suddenly. Telling her about everyone and how much they always ask about her. It carried you through the entire breakfast.

Lilia was left speechless. She didn't realize that many people knew about her and asked. Nor the fact you were the one they were always asking and you always had an answer. "Now you're just trying to flatter me."

"No! Really! When you come in they're gonna love seeing you! We should start getting ready though, I have a class starting earlier today and running later." You collected the plates and put them in the sink. Slipping away without another word to get into pottery clothes.

With the weather getting nicer you had settled for a light yellow long sleeve and a pair of art overalls. You had painted flowers from the splatters from projects. Slipping on your old boots and grabbing your bag. Leaving your hair in the messy clip you did this morning.

As you closed your door, Lilia's closed in time with you. Your head snapped around to her in a flowing skirt and a sweater filled with colors. Her curls were free, falling graciously down her back and you suddenly felt your heart stop. Your hand was at your chest, and you just played it to dusting your shoulder.

You hadn't said anything after seeing her then. Staying silent and scolding yourself to not gawk and drool over her. No matter how badly you could imagine your hands tangled in her peppered mane, along with the many reasons why. Your cheeks must've flushed cause Lilia was staring at you now worried.

You were in the middle of moving the paints and everything to the circle table in the sunlight. But you had stopped and were just staring out the window. Blushing from your own lucid thoughts.

"Your cheeks are warm and pink," her voice cut through. Her soft hands were on your cheeks before you had noticed, holding them for only a moment. Lilia glowed in the sun light. Just like she did in the moonlight. She was earthal. Universally beautiful. Day and night, never did she falter. A timeless beauty.

"I'm..I'm good. I just..don't worry." You managed out finally. It felt like the air was being vacuumed out your lungs. Your chest was beginning to feel tight. Is this what dying is? An angel to hold you while it all just goes warm and tingly? Or is this what love felt like? Were they the same thing?

Saved when Billy was soon the first to show up. You must be behind already. You're too distracted today. Asking yourself by what was a foolish move, you just couldn't grasp the reality of the cause.

"Oh Lilia! It's good to see you again! We've missed you around here." He greeted the lady with a hug before coming to settle at the table. "You should join our class for today, we're making a tea set this time. And since you guys live together you could divvy up the work."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose. I'm just here to help hand out the finished pieces." She waved a dismissive hand, much to your dismay. Even when she caught the sad glint take root in your eye, she stood by the front desk.

"I'm sure with a good towel and teamwork, you both could manage. Join us just for the day." The teen was persistent as he tied the apron around his body. "Come learn the juicy gossip this one spills in the circles."

"I do not spill any gossip! If anything it's Agatha who tells the most," you defended your name. A finger raised in the air, "and besides, I don't live a life to have anything!"

"Oh that's such a lie," Agatha had waltzed in. Her hair already pinned back and instantly found her seat at the table. "Just last week you had a fresher scoop on Dotti and her husband before I did. And I'm their neighbor!"

Lilia looked shocked to hear this, her eyes wide as they stared at you. "And what do you know about Dotti and her husband?" She challenged you.

And suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped. "Ok so, there's an update to them as well, from like yesterday morning. So to fill you in," you slowly sat down at your wheel.

Alice came in last finally, "we're already gossiping? I knew I was running late but not this late." She filled the empty wheel to your right. Making haste to get situated and get right in.

"We just started. We're starting with Dotti." You wiggled your brows.

"Oh! Did you hear about yesterday morning?!" You nodded your head. "Oh I heard the actual end of it, it sounded good so I'm ready." Alice sat, hands at the ready.

Your hands grabbed at the clay from the center, everyone following. "So I heard that he had forgotten their anniversary....again." You got lost in telling the details, some so itty bitty they questioned if you were actually there.

Lilia, from the front, listened and paid every ounce of attention to you when not helping a customer. She noted how relaxed you were in this setting. Eyes trained to the clay that span under your fingers, shoulders dropped, smile blooming as everyone talked. Overall, you seemed so at peace. She enjoyed watching you in this state.

"Yeah, Rio said she'd join one day." Agatha had spoken when Lilia tuned back in to the full conversation and not staring at you.

"We could do a little couples pottery! Alice and Jen, Agatha and Rio, Me and Teddy!" Then he turned to you and you could only throw your head back in laughter. "It's not funny! You've lived here long enough and still haven't tried dating!"

"Oh but that's not what I've heard." Agatha was the one to eye you now. Your face reddened when you felt her gaze burn into your hair. "Rumor is you're getting home late for two weeks?"

You shook your head, "officer no! It's not what you think!" You cried humorously before agreeing though. "Yeah, I have been. I've been busy here at the shop. Someone's gotta fire everything."

"Got any witnesses to back you up? Cause it gets juicier." Agatha continued, her eyebrow sharp.

You gasped, geneuinly confused on what's being said about you. "Oh my- what have people been saying?! Do people think I'm a...whore?" You whispered the title. Devastation written all over your face.

Lilia was dying to know where this was leading. This was her answer of if you really were here all those hours or you found someone young and they just kept you out all night. Being young.

"Oh they're thinking more than that. Recently Norm has been getting home around those hours as well....I'm sure the dots connect for you just like it does for everyone else." She eyed you, everyone was. "For him it's great, they think he finally found someone. For you though, they're saying it's settling."

You were cackling at that now. "Oh my God, no! I would never settle for Norm! Never! Who even started this rumor?" You couldn't help but to see the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

Your eyes quickly, praying she wasn't already looking at you, jumped to Lilia. She was staring right at you. If you didn't tear your eyes away, you'd have spaced out but when you felt the blush sprinting up your neck you had to. It made its way to your cheeks anyways.

"I think it was Herb. He's always been close with Norm. Maybe he saw you go home late one time." She reasoned, her hands up as she finished her teapot, examining her own work. "It reminds me of Rio."

Alice chuckled, finishing her own pot as well. "Herb and Norm starting the rumor you slept with him honestly makes sense. Recently his mom and sister have been pestering him about bringing a girl around." She added.

"I don't think I've ever even talked to either of them outside this shop. This is why being the young, single, shop owner is a trap in itself. If I wasn't a young, single, shop owner they would've never even bothered. So next time you hear someone put dirt on my name, I'm going to need you to clean it for me." You pointed a finger to everyone. Making sure they really understood you were serious.

Billy huffed, "so does that mean no couples class?" He put his best puppy eyes forward. And to your surprise, Agatha and Alice had joined him in their own way.

You soaked in their pleading expressions, letting your eyes slowly wonder to the woman at the front. "Fine...Lilia will just have to be my partner for it. And she'll act like it's the worst thing she's ever done, but we all know I'm the best in town."

"Please," Lilia scoffed. "Just the other week you didn't understand why picking a kiln over a human was offensive." She handed out the last pick up for the day. Surprised that it was all gone before two. She had finally came over to see what was actually happening.

"First of all, he has a name. His name is Kit. Use it and respect it. Second, maybe people should be more understanding." You shrugged. "Alright, I say we each make at least four tea cups. They're the same as the bowls basically, but...cup shaped."

Billy waved in the air first. "No, hold on. We are not skipping that. I've first hand seen Rio try to flirt with Agatha when she's pissed off, but that takes the title for most embarrassing."

Your jaw dropped with a gasp. "Excuse me! It's not embarrassing at all!"

"It so is! You're literally hot and you're picking kilns over people? That's like the biggest case of looks being deceiving." He kept going. His hands moving around in dramatics. "Like you pull in with the great appearance, and then you pick...the oven. I bet it's something deeper. There's another reason you pick the kiln."

Agatha perked up, eyes instantly glowing. She was ready to poke at you. "Oh I bet there is. You make the kiln out of the bodies of your dates and that's why we never know who they are?"

"Agatha...what the fuck?" You used the ball of your hand to rub between your furrowed brows. "There is no deeper meaning on why I like my kiln over most people."

"Over most...there's someone you're after isn't there?" Her brown eyes bored into you, not letting you look to anyone for help. She held you hostage for an answer. "Oh there is. Who is it? Is it actually Norm?"

"No!" Your voice worked quicker than your brain. "No there is no one, and even if there was it wouldn't be Norm. Like I said, I would never settle with a man. I'm dedicated to women, have been since I was sixteen. Billy is the only one here who likes men anyways."

"You never let us poke fun at you." Billy sighed. His eyes bouncing up to Lilia. "Do you get to make jokes at home?"

In that moment, you turned up to see. A part of you wondering what she would really answer. Because in reality, you do let her make fun of you. Every day, any day if she wanted. If it earned you a smile or a laugh, you didn't care. You just wanted to see and hear her happiness.

"Every now and then I get a good one in. For two weeks I haven't made one though, someone's too busy sneaking around with Norm." Lilia made her point, her cunning smirk stared back at you.

You managed out a chuckle and shook your head, "I'm not sneaking around! Can I not just be a shop owner who was tending to her customers work?"

Alice was the one to answer, "that's too easy. You need a little spice on your name."

"No! No I don't! I like my life plain, it's never disrupted and is just there." You tried to defend, suddenly it seemed with Lilia next to you everyone was going to get a dig in.

"Yeah, except a plain life wouldn't involve late nights with no alibi." Billy pointed.

"So you really do have to be hiding something from us if you're trying to play it down." Agatha nodded along.

"I was here. I know it's the truth so believe it or not. I was here for two consecutive weeks firing and making things for people to just come paint. Because I'm starting that soon, instead of being just clay." You were insistent now, really just wanting to clear the two weeks.

There was a collection of hums, trying to decide if it was a good enough excuse or not. "And where are these pieces then?" Lilia nudged you. She hadn't seen any extra pieces in the back.

You were silent. Caught in your own lie. Usually, the three wouldn't have known what's in the back. You would've told them there, that you have a shelf near the kiln to put them all on. But Lilia had been back there. She's seen what's there and what was not there.

"Oh..seems like you've been put in the hot seat. How do you plead now?" Agatha's eyes raised to find you with rosy cheeks and trained to your own hands.

"Not guilty." You mumbled. "I'm dropping the topic." The three groaned but let it go anyways. Leaving the rest of the class to random talks about what's been happening in their lives, minus you as they seemed to already know.

And the topic never came back up till it was just you and Lilia in the shop. With the sign on the door reading close and each cleaning in different areas. You in the back putting in the pieces from today and then going to wipe down and wash the tools used.

"So...if you've been sneaking around," she raised. Holding back her laugh as you groaned. "Well you were the one who was caught in a lie."

"Yeah cause I didn't think you'd air me out like that! I really have been here. You know I don't like men, I've stressed that, so it's not even realistic. I've been here just working honestly." You sounded more defeated, maybe it was cause you were tired as the sun slowly started setting. "Why does it bother you so much, even if it was me sneaking around?"

Lilia was suddenly next to you, her lips pressed together. She was biting back her true answer and now you knew how it felt to not know the truth. "If you're sneaking around, it means it's not for the public and you just deserve better than that, that's all. I want you to be happy and well taken care of."

"I am happy. I am also well taken care of. I have no purpose to sneak around with anyone. If I was, you would've known of them by now. But there is nobody. I don't need anyone else," your sentence fell off and remained incomplete. there was a moment where you both just stared in silence. Like you both knew that there was something being unsaid. "We should finish up and get home. I haven't had a night at home in ages." Her curls bounced in agreement. Leaving your side and going back to the front, wiping down a few more tables.

~

When you got home, you could only sigh. The day had finally caught up to you and you wanted nothing but out of your clothes. Lilia seemed the same way as she had instantly disappeared into her room. At first that's what you really did believe, expecting her to come back out within five minutes to have a drink with you.

You chose something simple, a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low and the same long black sleeve from the other night. Finally letting your hair down and washing your skin from all the clay that still was on you. Feeling incredibly refreshed for the night.

You left your room, sliding in socks to the kitchen. Pouring two glasses, one red and the other juice. You couldn't help but giggle at how childish you seemed drinking fruit punch out a wine glass, mocking the wine glass that was clearly darker. Lilia had joined you only a few seconds later, wearing your shirt and pajama pants.

You pulled your legs together and stared at her. "So..your birthday is tomorrow. Got any plans? Anything you want?" You started, taking the first sip as well.

"Little late to be asking about a gift, don't ya' think?" She leaned back to fully look at you, head propped against her fist. You've realized how natural this is, how easily you both fall into this exact spot night after night.

"That's you assuming I didn't already get you something." You hummed, wiggling your brows a bit. "Anything you want to do?"

"I haven't celebrated a birthday in ages, I don't think I'll start now. But thank you for the thought." She went to shut down the topic, but your facial expression was unsatisfied. "I'm sorry, its just another day for me."

"Boo!" You gave her two thumbs down in her face. Pulling them away before she could swat them down, the sound of your laugh gracing the air. "Well, luckily for you Lilia Calderu, I have a special day planned for you that is the perfect mix of relaxing and spoiling." You beamed, proud of how well you managed to keep everything quiet till now.

The older woman only shook her head. "Baby, we really don't have to celebrate it. Really." Your stomach did flips at the pet name, the blush on your cheeks reddening just slightly. It seemed once you realized your hearts desires, you couldn't conceal anything anymore.. "Anyways, you've done enough for me this year than needed."

"That's because I wanted to do those things. You think I stood outside your shop in the cold because I needed to? I did it cause I wanted to know you. And now that I know you, I want to do something meaningful for you. Also it's a day to celebrate my favorite roommate, so yeah..we're celebrating tomorrow." Your eyes were everything of warm and giving. Lilia enjoyed this stare, how you treated her so well.

She caved, "Alright, what do you have planned? Pottery at the shop?"

You audibly gasped, "Lilia do you think that's all I know?!" You were so happy here. "I planned a late morning so you can sleep in, so I can sleep in, and then I'll make your favorite brunch. After we're going to that one show you had mentioned wanting to see, but eating dinner before because it's not till 8. Everything would be closed by the time we got out. To finish, we'll do presents before bed."

"That is quite the day planned. Is there a limit to how late we're sleeping in? And what say do I get in any of this?" She wasn't objecting to anything, so you figured you had done well. Now everything just had to go as well.

Your head shook left to right, "no ma'am. Sleep as late as you want. It's brunch for a reason. And as for what say you get, you can have all the say, I just made the plan." Your hands were in the air surrendering all power to her.

~

While you had woken up first and began cooking, you wore boxers and the same black long sleeve. Shaking your hips at the song in your head. Something about today told you that it was bound to be so much better than what you had prepared.

Today you woke up and told yourself you would hint at your feelings. Leaving it open for her to catch on in her own time, but you couldn't bring yourself to out right tell her. Not when you had no idea if she could ever reciprocate those feelings. Yet, you danced while making the perfect breakfast for you and her to share.

Your mind couldn't help to focus on her though, subconsciously flipping the pancakes at this point.

Lilia was many things, you had realized this quickly, but your favorite word to tease her with was kooky. Sometimes even wispy. She always was mumbling different tarot cards to herself. You had played it down to a pull she did earlier or something that had a significance with the card. You also used those terms when she would be scolding you for some tiny mess you had left from either cooking or doing pottery out on the balcony. Those were your favorite times as well.

If it was just right outside and you had enough free time, you would work on new techniques and designs. Lilia would bring herself, a cup of tea leaves, and a blanket that would be wrapped over her legs. She would watch you work first, maybe for the most of ten minutes, before she emerged herself into the tea leaves. You never understood it either, you weren't in her world unfortunately. You knew nothing about tarot or tea leaves. She never let you in either, not like how you did her into your world of clay.

As much as it pained you to not see through her lens, you had managed to accept it and witness from the neighboring universe. You mostly enjoyed being her witness when she couldn't sleep and asked you to come sit in the living room with her. Even if it had been the most grueling day at work, you did. You pried yourself from the warmth of your bed and to the living room.

You were unaware of the many times you did fall asleep though. Lilia felt bad most those nights, yet she needed your presence to ground her from it all. All the crazed times she travels through. But it wasn't till the first time you had came out and laid your head in her lap, so exhausted you didn't even fight it and just slept on her lap that night. Her hands pulled the lovers card as well that night.

"You're making pancakes?" Her voice cleared your thoughts instantly. Especially when you whipped around to see her. Lilia had her curls free from all maintenance, sleep evident in her eyes as she yawned. She still was in your shirt.

"Do you not want pancakes, birthday girl?" You wore a teasing smirk already. Excited to celebrate her even more as she was awake. "I made chocolate chip ones, assuming that you liked them a lot the way you wolfed down three the first time I made them for you."

"Alright no need to be so cocky, baby. It's my day remember? Plus, you surrendered all control so I'd be nice if I were you." She fed your teasing right back to you. Finding a seat at the kitchen table, knowing you were already done in time for when she woke up. Her eyes followed you as you danced around the kitchen to gather everything and set the table. "Thank you," she hummed when you placed a perfect plate in front of her. "You really have stepped up your presentation skills."

"Only the best for you Madame Calderu." You glowed with her attention on you. Taking your own seat, you raised your glass of orange juice. "Happy birthday, Lilia." Lilia smirked at your antics but raised her glass anyways. Clinking the rim of her glass to yours.

It fell quiet for the first bites, the only sound that could be heard was Lilia moaning in approval at the taste of each pancake. A childish glimmer was in her eyes. "You know how to make a girl feel special." She praised you as she continued to eat. You only giggled and let the silence return as you also ate without much to say.

Even while you cleaned up, it was silent as Lilia stayed at the table and watched your every move. You were overly aware of that fact as well. "Can I ask you a question about your pajama choice?" It wasn't what you were expecting, but you nodded anyways. "It's a mix of very feminine pieces, like silks and pinks, while other times it's this almost masculine? What's that all about?"

"Most of my clothes are the ones from my exploring as a twenty year old who didn't know what type of gay was the right one yet. So I went between being hyperfeminine and masculine to see who was right for me. Eventually I gave up because it seemed it was never me, but more so who I was with. I didn't like that idea of changing my appearance for others though. I kept a mix of it all because in the end I'm gonna be gay, so what do my clothes matter?" You had rambled a bit, being honest about the evolution of your wardrobe. "Does it bother you?"

"No...no, I was just intrigue. I do your laundry and sometimes it really does look like you have a man here whose clothes I'm always washing. I can see why people think you and Norm were happening." She smirked behind the rim of her mug.

Your head had whipped around, a mean glare being shot from your spot. "I'm not sneaking with Norm! I have eyes for someone else anyways! So ha!" You stuck your tongue out at her.

"Oh yeah? Who? Kit?" She scrunched her nose. Not giving you a chance to keep defending yourself by getting up to find a spot on the couch. Also, Lilia didn't want to hear about you having the hots for anyone that wasn't her. It awoke a green monster she hadn't seen in a long time. "Did you plan anything for the four hours between brunch and getting ready?"

You came over after finishing up, head shaking. "No, I figured id leave it open for you to decide what we do?" You sat closer than intended, the couching sinking under you and sliding you right next to Lilia. It would be rude to scoot away so you got yourself situated to be more comfortable. "Maybe catch up on the show you've missed the last few episodes of?"

"You'd really sit here and watch that with me?" She really was enjoying having you do whatever she wanted already. "You said last time, and I quote, this show doesn't even had good plot, the gayness is all portrayed wrong. No lesbian actually does that pose."

You glanced down to your hands then back to her. "For you Lilia Calderu, it seems I will do a lot of things. So if that is truly what you want to do, then I will sit here and suffer for your happiness." You sighed out defeat as she reached for the remote. "It really is not how any gay person would act, I want you to know that."

"Yeah? And how do they really act?" She turned to look at you, the first moment the brown was visible for you, your brain failed to comprehend. It was honestly a good example of a gay panic without intent. "Hmm, so I see." Her hand was on your cheek instantly following. Her eyes darkened just slightly as she searched your features.

"See..see what?" You so dumbly managed, completely in this woman's trance. Never wanting to leave it though, all her focus was you and she just saw you.

Although, she flashed you that smile and the conversation was dropped as the show began playing. Her attention no longer on you but on the screen. There it stayed for the next few hours, never breaking away. Well you wouldn't know as you caved into the body heat Lilia radiated and fell into a small nap on her shoulder.

Lilia however refused to wake you until four, lulling you into a deeper state of sleep by playing with the few strands that weren't clips back. But surely she had taken it out to really play in your hair, nails scratching over your scalp as you pushed deeper into her side. A hand throwing itself over her lap was the sign you were actually deep asleep. How long had you been up for you to be this tired naturally? The day had hardly started.

Yet, by five-thirty both of you stood by the doors to your bedrooms gawking at the other. You, in a baby pink mini dress, the back was a corset and a big bow right atop your butt. A simple white short cardigan covered your arms and white chunky heels dawned your feet. Tying everything together with an assortment of jewels and metals. Lilia, in plaid wide legged pants that flowed nicely, it was assortments of yellows and blues over a deep maroon. A plain white button up and a mustard yellow jacket that complimented with the pants. She must've been wearing some platform on her boots as she stood only slightly taller than her average days.

You smiled and your cheeks warmed when she returned it. "You look nice," you made the first step towards the door. Picking up your keys and opening the door for her. "M'lady," you bowed and gestured out.

"You look lovely as well, baby. I could almost tease you all night long while you look this cute." Huh? Had you heard her right? There was no time to question it once she was out the door, looping her arm with yours as you began to talk down. "So where is dinner?"

You slightly smiled, still caught on her previous statement. "It's a little place Billy and Alice both suggested. We told Agatha to not give her opinion after she suggested Starks. That woman and her...Rio are the finest dinners I've ever met. But it's still nice and up there, just more affordable."

"I'm sure it'll be just fine." She hummed. Her approval seemed to be something you were always constantly chasing, stressing yourself for it to the days end. You loved when she thought you did a good job. It at some point began to tickle a need and drive in you, even if you were unaware.

And the dinner was fine, actually it was almost perfect. You had known they served Sicilian specialties, which made Lilia ecstatic to try and compare them to her own cooking. Maybe you should start learning more dishes to cook.

You did let her pick your meal, seeing as you were oblivious to what half of the items tasted or even looked like. It was how you asked that stirred the shift. "Lilia...can you order for me?" You were so shy about asking her. It was such a childish thing to do, when you could've looked it all up, but she was there and knew how each one should taste.

Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her brown earthal gaze was full of mischief and mysteries. "Aww, the lil' chef out her comfort zone? Don't worry, I've got you baby." Lilia beamed anyways and glanced back to the menu. Leaving you to sit dumb and pretty.

The way her lips formed the pet name was enticing. Calling you closer when they pressed together, but pulling back when you did lean in. The deep red was perfect for her. It complimented her every shimmer of her eyes when she got lost in the topic with you.

Lilia called you 'baby' a lot more during the dinner after you had asked her as well. You squirmed in how you slowly felt yourself slipping further and further into her. The worst part about it was the fact she knew what she was doing. Her faux worries of, "baby are you ok?" Or if it was her hand grabbing yours and saying, "can I do anything to help?" Her fingers tracing into your palm, more specifically her middle and ring finger pushing them into the skin.

The server was your savior for the night, coming by frequently to give you time to collect yourself from Lilia. Trying your absolute best to pull your brain back to this planet. Especially when they brought out the little slice of cake with a candle.

The sight of it sobered you up thankfully. A goofy grin shinning from your glossed lips. "Happy Birthday Lilia," you were sparkling like the flame. This was the moment you waited for all night. To see the hidden child finally be celebrated. To see a woman to finally be celebrated for holding on. To see Lilia being celebrated for just being herself.

She felt the world disappear as she blew out the candle. Feeling the wave of appreciation you sent her way as the smoke swayed into the air. "You really are the sweetest, ya' know? Always taking care of me, from the very start. I knew there was something to you."

You weren't quite sure what that meant but you gave a nervous laugh. "I just know when I like someone I guess. I care about the people I like. You're one of those people. You always will be." Your emotions were mixed within your words and they invaded your eyes.

Lilia let her hand return to your cheek, "you make me feel special when you look at me like that."

It was the perfect opening, "it's cause you are. You've been special...and kooky." You teased her back finally. Her eyes narrowing just slightly at you, her hand falling and retreating. But you grabbed it and held it for a second, "I mean it. You are special Lilia. I've been trying to get you to realize that." A weight had crumbled from your shoulders. Even if it wasn't a direct confession, it made you feel open enough that she had a grasp of the idea.

She sighed and focused on how your fingers played with her rings. Your touch was soft and precise. She should've known that though, with how you work with clay and design such intricate shapes, of course you had skilled hands. "You might be the only one who thinks that much of me."

"Good, only I can think of you." It came flying out quicker than you noticed. Once Lilia let out a rumbling laugh, you caught up.

"What? You wanna be my only baby or something?" The confidence she radiated made you feel hot. You put yourself in this situation.

If you backed down, you'd never know. If she said no, that she didn't feel the same, you'd be ok with that. You might spend the night crying and alone but that'll be ok.

"What if I do?" You tried to match her, not even coming close when she shifted more forward. Her canine teeth barred themselves to you. The light making them look sharper than you've ever noticed.

Her tongue darted out, catching your attention to those lips again. Your breathing picked up and you felt on the edge like you've never been before. It was a long drop, you knew that, but if you just got one kiss you'd happily fall. Hell, you'd full sprint off the edge while laughing hysterically.

You pried away and back to her eyes. They were now dark rivers in the night. Lust swimming around and creating little waves of reflected moonlight. This was a look you never knew could be real. "You wanna be mama's good girl don't you?"

The names. The look. Her touch under yours. It was earth shattering. Like everything you had built and had made was only the second important thing to you. The first was her. The first had always been her. "Yes...yes please." Your eyes glossed over in seconds. Succumbing to her dominance and slipping bashful.

Lilia grew a grin that was a combination of everything from sweet and nurturing to hot and destructive. "Is that really what you want, baby?"

Your head nodded while your lips slightly parted. "Yes, more than anything. Please..." the server came back around once more with your card and the final receipt. Wishing you both a goodnight, and Lilia another birthday wish. You signed it smoothly and then huffed yourself back into the reality of what was just happening. "I really do want this."

Lilia hadn't taken you as one to have such a deep headspace, so when you were really meeting her gaze she knew it couldn't have been easy to come back from it. She was the first to stand, wrapping herself in the yellow coat. It was then she came and stood closer to you, having the higher advantage. "I do too, believe me." She leaned forward and kiss your forehead. "I do too, baby." Her kisses must've been powerful because your eyes were blown all over again. You had fallen deep back into it. She couldn't help to hold your soft cheek at it all, it was one of her new favorite moments. "Why don't we go see that show?"

You beamed and nodded. Pulling your own coat over your dress. You were instant to intertwine your fingers, letting her pull you on out but keeping you close behind. You already were a fan of holding her hand, never wanting to let go.

The only time you did was when you sat and her hand held your thigh. She left it there the entire show. It was a distraction just being still, it was derailment when her nails scratched up and down. You had tried to grab her hand and hold it still, yet she would only turn and give you this warning look before returning to the stage. You let go and traced shapes into her hand to focus from her ministrations.

It was the end of the show and not a single line had reached you. You just stood with everyone else while clapping along. The echoing applause sounded the same as the crackling of fire that was your skin. Lilia had you warming up with such light touches. But eventually, it all died down and the cool air of outside is sizzling your skin out.

"Did you like it?" Lilia had asked you, a little eager to know your thoughts on such a show. You only nodded, attempting to play it like you had been paying attention and not thinking of her and all the things she might do to you. Those wised eyes knew though, she knew you hadn't caught a single thing said the moment her hand touched your soft thigh. "Yeah? And what was your favorite part?"

"The acting." You so simply stated. Hoping it was good enough for her to not continue to press. But that would be too easy.

"Who's?" She raised her brow and all you could do was give her a blankness look while walking closer to the car. "You weren't paying attention were you?" The guilt filled your body and answered in itself. Lilia's curls danced around her as her head shook. "That truly is a shame, it's an amazing play."

Your frown was quick to appear, "'m sorry...it's just...you didn't make it easy..." you apologized. Stepping into her space and looping your arm with hers.

"Oh so it's my fault?" She lowly chuckled out her question. A cocky smile filling the silence as you stuttered out sounds but no words. "I'm just teasing you, baby. Don't get yourself so worked up over it."

"And because of your teasing I couldn't pay attention." You bit the inside of your cheek, leaning against her to throw off her balance. Succeeding in the efforts and snickering.

Lilia laughed with you, even as she regained herself. Her arm slipped from yours and her hand settled on your back. "Did I tease you the entire time to work you up? Maybe. And maybe pretty girl, I plan to finish what I started at home."

You rounded to stand in front of her, cheeks turning red but the night dimming it out. Her lips were curled with a smirk that implied everything you needed to know. Soon it was you holding her hand and dragging her to the car.

~

It started with her straddling your lap in the center of your bed. Her lips kissing all over yours and down your neck, finding every right spot to leave you gasping. The feeling felt overwhelming, to finally have her kissing you. It was feeling like everything was hypersensitive. Stinging with pleasure as she continued all over.

Your hand slipped into her curls, twisting your fingers with the pattern and holding her close. She knew how to work a body and it showed.

Lilia also knew how to stake her claim. Leaving bruises all down the spans of your neck. A silent thought to show the town you were no longer available rang in her head. And when your hand found her hair, she only could groan against you. You needed her just as she needed you. It made her blood rush with anticipation. She wanted to make you feel better than you've ever felt. Really secure her place in your mind. Making sure nobody could ever come in and kick her out.

Her lips were plush against your pulse. Even when they covered her teeth as they sunk into you, the moan slipped straight from your throat. Your free hand flew to steady yourself on her hip, feeling the heat radiating from her. How it seeped through her clothes and onto your exposed skin.

"Lilia..." You hummed before swallowing thickly. You didn't know what you were actually asking for, all you knew is you wanted more of her. In your sight, on your tongue, in your hands, echoing in your ears, and filling your every breath. The very feeling of her on you wasn't enough as you really caved into her. "Mama..."

Her hum vibrated against you, "Yes baby?" You whined at the pet name finally. Knowing that if there was anytime to let her know her effect it was here and now. And the way she called you 'baby' always tickled something deeply rooted in your brain.

You sighed out, the hand on her hip began fisting her top. Begging her closer, "more..."

"So needy...I bet you've been needing me for a while haven't you?" Her movements lightened to almost ghostly passes. It made your skin crawl with goosebumps. "You're the perfect gift for me baby." She spoke low and with rasp. "My perfect girl."

You gasped at the claim. "All yours..." you tightened your grip. Just the subtle touches of her, the amber and deep musk invading your lungs, the sounds of her lips on your skin, sucking, bruising you, everything. It was everything this woman was doing and also wasn't doing that drove you into override. Your mind felt hazy and your body felt hot and tingly. "Mm..please mama...I need more." You whined.

Lilia pulled off, cupping your cheek and seeing that long gone look in your eyes. Your pupils dilated to the very brim of color. "I hear you baby," she hummed. It was effortless to get you to lie down. All it took was a glance back at the pillows and you were crawling frantically to get comfortable. "You look so damn adorable in this dress. Just like a doll."

Your cheeks warmed further and you couldn't help the small grin. "Thank you, I bought it just for you," you bashfully confessed. And suddenly you were on your knees showing yourself off to her.

"Isn't that just sweet of you, dressing for me already. And you're so well mannered baby, you really did want to be my good girl." She smirked as your head bobbed in agreement with a proud smile. "You'll be good for me right? Even when mama buries her cock so deep in you?"

Her hands were holding you firmly in place and she was back in your space. On you without even an inch apart. Lilia was struggling to keep her control and work you up...but fuck you for being so precious. She couldn't help the need to destroy it. To make you her slutty baby.

Her shuddering breath made you lower back down from her. Sitting back on your heels and staring up at her. "Yeah...yes..yes I'll be good even then. Promise," you batted your lashes.

The lust in her eyes deepened to something darker. "Mama's gonna have so much fun with you baby."

You glowed with innocence as you eagerly settled your self back into the pillows again, this time Lilia trapped you down with her hands on either side of you. Her devilish smile seemed nothing of mischief to you, so you were giggling up to her. Relishing in what you thought would be slow and languished.

How naive you were.

Lilia's lips were latching to your chest completely disregarding your already bruised neck, making you gasp and cry. But she made a whole new mural of purple across your collar bones. Leaving your chest rising in deep breaths. "Nobody's gonna think you're single now baby. No more rumors with you and anyone else."

You tried to catch yourself to respond but before you knew it her lips were pressing over your covered stomach. "I'm gonna fuck you in and out of this dress so nicely, baby. The things you make me want to do."

"Mama..." you whined while your hips bucked into the air, bumping into her chest. It made you realized how clothed she is against you and your dress. Your hand grabbed her shoulder, fisting the shirt just once more and pulling carefully at it. "Your shirt...off please." You were polite even in your stare as she obliged.

Letting you drink in the sight as she undid each button one by one. Soon the white fabric was on the floor and she was in just her white bra. Her boobs spilling out just right. Your eyes twinkled with thoughts of kissing them and sucking on them. Making her moan and hum in delight.

Lilia must've seen the gears turning cause she returned to kissing her way down. "When I'm done with you, then you can have whatever you need from me. Got it?"

Your head agreed, "yes mama." Your eyes focused on her between your legs. You were desperate to burn it into your brain. More desperate for her to actually eat you out though.

Lilia was kissing all around your core. Your thighs were left with even more love bites than your chest. "I can't wait to taste how sweet my girl is." She pressed her lips to your clit, smiling to herself as you sharply inhaled and body stilled. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling your white panties down and off your legs.

The cold air over your wetness made you shiver in anticipation. It was when her warm breath fanned over you did you cry out. "Please, I need you so bad mama. I can't take any longer." You pleaded.

It was the richest honey her ears had ever been given. Her tongue flattened against you and in one swipe she collected as much of you as she could. Humming in content at your taste that was all hers. This was her secret stash of honey that only she'd ever be allowed to use. And she couldn't get enough.

Her tongue ravage you in ways you didn't expect. Like she had done this so much it was practically second nature. The thought made you shift slightly, but Lilia seemed to know you in this state like the back of her cards. "I've never had anyone like you baby. I just can't get enough. You're so fucking sweet. So...god who did I please to get you? Hmm? My sweet, sweet fucking girl."

Your body loosened and began to heat up. The coil in your stomach tightening in the most delicious ways. "Ma..mama..don't stop please.."

She hummed against you again, picking up her pace and pushing harder against you. Slurping up as much of you as she could as you came with a cry of her name. Her actual name.

You had snapped back to feel the reality of it for just one moment. To grab her hand and squeeze it as she kept licking and sucking at you. And then as conscious as you were, you were back to whining for her.

Lilia delivered one last lick before placing kisses all over your hips and thighs. Trailing all the way up to your lips, were you both hummed at the taste of you. "We're gonna have issues now that I know you're just a piece of my favorite candy. I'll never be able to resist you, baby."

You, still trying to catch a steady breathing, giggled. "You're exaggerating, mama." Your hand cupped her cheek and you smiled widely once again.

Yet, Lilia only crashed her lips to yours once again. This time a little more rough as her tongue slipped in while you gasped. Establishing itself and dancing lead with yours. She was making sure you tasted what she just did. And when she pulled back, her eyes were sharper as they stared down at you. "The way I'm going to fuck you will make you realize just how humble you are. That you wont believe that's how people want to do you. But only mama will get you. Only mama."

It was much more commanding now. The air felt thicker and you felt your body melt into the mattress you were in flames.

Your heavy breathes were the only thing to be heard as Lilia stood and riffed of her pants. Swaying her hips as she disappeared out the room. You took the minute she was gone to just breathe and calm your racing heart beat.

All your efforts were instantly thrown out however. Lilia returned, and much to her word, she had a rather large strap around her waist. Although it looked rather real if you had any say. She pointed towards the ground in front of her. Flashing her sharp teeth as you obeyed and she was able to collect a fistful of your hair. "Go on. Suck mama before she ruins you."

You loved this switch. Yes her softness and delicacy were nice, but this side of her made your skin crawl with heat. She was dominating everything from your body to your mind. There was nothing besides Lilia.

Your plush lips wrapped around just the tip and Lilia's brows twitched for a split second. You had begun to bob up and down her, chalking it up to be the sight getting her off the most. It was when her hips began to roll with the movement of you, hitting deeper in your throat. Then her hand in your hair had begun to tighten and her hips started snapping faster. She was throat fucking you. Groaning and gasping at the desperate way you held her thighs to stabilize yourself as tears rolled past your temples. All while you kept your eyes on hers.

With one last deep thrust, warmth had shot down the back of your throat and Lilia gave a shaky moan. Her hand let up in your hair and you slipped her out your mouth. You swallowed once to get everything down. Cheeks bright red as you stared at the twitching appendage. White cum still oozed slowly out the tip and your eyes had jumped up.

But Lilia didn't explain anything, she just pointed to the bed. "On all fours baby." Was the only instruction.

Apart of you was in conflict. Something was whispering so quietly to pull out of the deep space you were in. It was so quiet it was gone with the sound of floor creaking under your knees as you stood. Finding your spot in the middle, exactly how Lilia wanted you. Listening to the room around you to find the woman.

Her wised hands ran over your hips, one up your spin and to your neck. Pushing you down into the mattress. Her fingers ghosted the curve of your body. "And look, there's even a bow in the back." She played with the fabric a little before flipping it over to bare your ass to her. She was memorized by your glistening folds. "You're impeccable, baby." She held your hips more firm and lined herself up. "Mama's gonna take such good care of you baby. Don't ever worry again."

You let out a strangled moan as she bottomed out, letting out her own grunt as well. Her chest was pressed against your back as she gave you both a second to adjust. And after five, she was slowly easing into her pace. Pulling all the way to the tip, just to slam all the way back in. "Look at you, already taking me so well." Her lips pressed against your spine.

"Th..thank you..'mmhh..mama," you managed. Your hands fisted at the sheets and your hips started to push back against her. Helping her to find a deeper, softer spot. Once she registered it was your sweet spot her hips moved quicker.

Snapping against you and pounding you into the mattress. "Fuck baby...I don't think I can ever let you leave now. Not when you're sucking me in like this." It was brutal how quick she was moving.her hand snuck around your body and two fingers circled around your clit.

"Fuck...fuck me mama. Just like that. Please, please, please just like that." You felt your breath hitch in your throat and your body tighten. It felt all so good, so warm, so right. You clenched around her as you let a moan echo into the room.

But Lilia kept going. Her pace never faltering as she just slammed into you. Her nails digging into your beautiful hips, pulling you back against each thrust. It felt like she had began to find deeper as your body was working up all over again.

"You're so captivating baby, ever since the day you first arrived. I couldn't help myself but want more of you. And denying you..god that was the worst part. I was denying myself. But now, now we're done denying." You heard her words but they felt like muffled harmonies just passing through.

Your body tensed again and you were crying out again. "Mama..." you tried to get away, leaning forward out her grasp.

Yet she had one last thrust in her. She let you slip just away enough, that when she slid right back through your tight warmth, she found the golden spot. Sending you into an intense aftershock and she filled you full and groaned against your shoulder. Her arm hooked around your waist and held you still with her.

Both of you panting and hardly having anything to say. "Let's get you out this dress." She whispered, kissing your sweating temple.

You felt her slip right out of you and lean back. The sound of the harness coming undone caught your ear, yet it never hit the floor. Using your remains strength you pushed up to look for it. But it wasn't anywhere to be found. And when you looked to Lilia, she was walking away from you into the bathroom.

Your mind only thought it over so long before Lilia was returning in a shirt and with a wet towel. She offered you a hand to stand which you took. It was subtle the next moment. Her hands untying the dress and freeing you from it. The pink fell to your feet and you were suddenly butt naked in front of Lilia. Blushing madly as you caught her eyes in the mirror.

She licked her lips. "Oh baby...we might have to do a round two."

~

"That wasn't part of the plan Lilia!" Agatha scolded the older witch. "I need my walking darkhold conscious and aware of reality. Not whimpering and begging mama!"

Lilia sat in the chair feeling ashamed. It wasn't meant to happen. They were supposed to come and pull you from the many witches and warlocks who've added to the Scarlet Witch's curse. Those who knew of your knowledge worked to conceal you into your fairytale life.

But when Agatha Harkness formed a coven to walk The Witches Road successfully, she needed more. She needed you. The walking Darkhold. Secluded and alone between an apartment and clay shop. They were nice enough to give you two locations unlike Agatha.

"Ok, well let's think. She's oblivious to us all having powers. So we're still clear of being detected as anything." Alice pointed out the pro.

"I've been doing pottery with magic for how long and she hasn't noticed." Agatha added. Her blue eyes trained to Lilia as she thought. "Did you use any magic at home?"

Her big brown eyes shifted to look away. "Last night I did..." she murmured but the coven easily knew what she said.

"Oh my god Lilia! You man," Billy nudged her while walking by to get a drink from the kitchen. "So what if you ease her to question it? You have the deepest, no pun intended, connection with her. Drop things of the darkhold to her."

"Are we sure giving Agatha Harkness back the thing is a good idea anyways?" Jen crossed her arms, being against this idea in the beginning.

"She's not a thing." Lilia and Agatha said at the same time. Eyeing each other in suspicion.

"Let's run with Maximoff's idea. What if you mention details I feed you? Ones I know she knows on the fly? I'll write them down and you'll leave them about the place." Agatha played off the boys thought.

"And what if it doesn't work?" Lilia raised the opposing. Apart of her didn't want to break you out. She wanted you all to herself. If you were out you'd be spending all your time with Agatha trying to recreate the Darkhold.

Alice crossed her arms and held herself a little tighter. "We have no choice but to try Lilia. What harm could it bring?"

"Unleashing the last source of spells that have been put into a hook called 'The Darkhold' for a reason." Jen scoffed. As much as she didn't like the idea, she was running with it to free someone 'bound'. She knew that feeling herself.

Agatha hurried around and scribbled down spells onto a variety of sticky notes. In total making seven and handing them to the divination witch. "I need her out the spell Calderu. Don't let whatever feelings you conjured for her little personality ruin this. Or so help me, I will walk in next time and drag her out."

It was an honest promise kore than a threat. Lilia knew that. "Fine. I'll put them around the house tonight before she comes home."

"Good girl," Agatha hummed before leading them out the apartment. After Jen had left, the brunette turned one more time. "Lilia. Get this done so we don't have to be vicious."

So she did. She placed the spells in the places she knows you go straight for when you get home. One in the key bowl by the door, one in the bathroom on the mirror, your pajama drawer, on your nightstand by your charger, the fridge on your fruit punch, in the cup cabinet, and lastly on the black tv screen. It was impossible to miss any of them.

But it didn't prepare her for what you had planned for coming home. You waltzed in basically shinning with joy as you pecked her cheek. She sat in the living room, anxiously waiting your arrival.

"Today was so busy! Busy but good!" You clearly missed the note in the key bowl. There were six other chances. "Pour me juice and I'll be right out," you gave her another peck and we're off into the room.

You first collected something to change into. Feeling a sweats and boxer outfit, you collected the black sweats from the closet and boxers from the top drawer. Grabbing a hoodie as well and throwing it all on to the bed.

Heading into the bathroom next. In need to wash away all the grime and clay that lingered. The note caught your attention first. Your brows furrowed and you mumbled over the words. Something about them felt staticy on your tongue. You even went as far to check yourself in the mirror.

In all, with the new unease you continued through your routine. You were changing clothes when the house just seemed too warm for a hoodie, so you swapped it for a tank. Another note with gibberish was lying on top. Had Lilia placed these about? What are they and why in your drawer?

You kept moving about, finding another next to your charger. You figured you could ask if you brought them to her. Including the one you caught on the tv. "Lilia? What are these notes?" You had four in your hands and none of them made sense.

"Baby...I need you to really concentrate. Do they seem familiar at all?" Her brown eyes were wide with pleads. None of this was making sense to you. "Have you tried saying them out loud?"

"They're in a language I don't even know. What is it even? Latin?" You wildly guessed. You took your spot right next to her and kept trying to read them. "I'm a bit confused. This feels like earlier when Rio stopped by...said something about reality and I just assumed she was making a bad joke."

"Yeah? And what did she say?" Lilia stood, briefly leaving your side to grab the other three. Bringing them back and setting all seven on the coffee table.

You shrugged while staring. "She was on about Agatha needing me in a different reality. Like we knew each other somewhere else. Then she said this one was cute and boring. I need an adventure." You intently focused on the fifth note. "You know Latin right? Said you took a class? Can't you read these?"

"I can, but it's not about me." She shook her head.

"Then what's this about?" You picked up the note and really traced the letters. "This one kinda seems familiar. Like I've seen these letters arranged once before." You kept repeating what you could.

Eventually your broken syllables turned into words. Then you were chanting them. Your body shook with a cold rush that ran all through your veins. You've known this feeling before. Your eyes fell to the other notes, realizing what they were. You knew these spells.

"Oh thank- fucking finally hun!" Agatha's voice barged into the room.

"Oh my- Harkness what the hell happened?" You shot up. Where were you and who were these people around you? Your eyes dropped to your hands, so did Agatha's.

Her chuckle of relief washed the room. "Oh you still have it all. Oh, the Scarlet Witch. She destroyed every copy of the Darkhold. But not you. You got buried deep. Weeks. Months of coven work to get you freed."

You scoffed. "Please, Agatha Harkness and a coven? That's the biggest joke I've heard in my life. Is that who these people all are? Your coven?" Your bite was so familiar for the purple witch, but new to everyone who'd met your false personality.

"I see why you two get along." Jen huffed, taking a seat over on a stool. "So how'd you meet her Darkhold?"

"Unintentionally. She was fucking around with the book, casted a spell and poof! The literal embodiment of all those spells and things you would let take over your morales." Your smile was sickening.

"Yeah, well I need you." Agatha cut the rest of the conversation. Snapping her fingers in your face to get your focus. "I need your knowledge. I need you to rewrite the book."

You sighed, "it's always need, need, need with you Agatha."

"I just freed you from how many curses? This is how you respond?" She was in disbelief.

You nodded, "uhh yeah! I was only in that curse cause of you! Dragged my ass to Westview and played house and now look! Whose house are we even in?!" Your hands were wildly gesturing.

"Yours! Well yours and Lilia's. Ya know? Mama?" Agatha's brow arched and her smile was nothing but teasing. "I know you remember more of those months than you're letting one."

Your eyes dropped to the oldest witch by your side. Well...technically you're the oldest living thing in the room. "You fucked me with a magical dick?" Your brows furrowed. Her cheeks blushed heavily at your forwardness. "I wanna put a pin in that for sure, but in the mean time. Even if we do recreate the Darkhold, it won't be the same. Especially since I have a horrible drawing hand so I could get you the correct formations for certain rituals."

"I don't need rituals! I need power," she groaned. Her hands on your shoulders and pushing you down to the couch. She crouched and held your hands. "You hold over thousands years of dark magic up in the pretty brain of yours hun. I need you to use it for me ok?"

Lilia tensed at the way Agatha was speaking to you. Like she had once been the one to dominate you. "That's because I am well into at least my five thousands."

The three in the kitchen finally took further interest in you. "Hold on," Billy pipped up. Rushing over to hover over you as well. "You're over five thousand years old?"

"I'm the embodiment of that dumb book, yeah. Unfortunately. And you kid, your mother was a pain in my ass. I mean seriously, even under everything, every curse, spell, binding, I could feel her using the book. She never slept, kept me lingering for ever." You pointed before dropping to Agatha again.

"What do you say, hun? Just like old times?" Her blue eyes were silently, and so hidden deeply, begging you.

Lilia was for sure you'd go. That those dark fingertips that used to be clear from all mischief would run off to cause destruction. Leaving her forgotten.

"No."

The room erupted in to confused 'huh's. Except for Jen who was laughing in Agatha's face at the backfiring of her plan.

"What the fuck do you mean no?" Her hands gestured in your lap for any explanation to this.

Your eyes found Lilia. "I want to stay here with her. You're right, I do remember those months. And I remember how real it felt with Lilia. Unfortunately do hope as the Darkhold, I'm still accepted." You were in just her world. "I can give you everything."

To engrossed in those deep swirls, you missed Agatha groaning as she got up. Already just accepting her defeat on having you fully, but she was going to get those spells.

Lilia's hand had come up to your cheek, a thumb stroking over it as her heart swelled. "You really mean it?"

"You'll have to relearn me is the only downside." You placed your dark fingertips on her hand. Finally drawing all the rooms attention to them. The blackness ran far up your arms and under your shirt.

"Wait, wait, wait. Before you go swearing yourself into marriage Bookie I need to know you'll at least give me spells when I need them? I just need something, anything from you." She had that signature annoyed look she always had with you.

"If you ever call me that again I'm not helping you. But for now you have yourself a deal. But don't think you're getting any of the good ones." You hummed, not really paying any mind to her anymore.

"We should go before they start making out..." Alice mumbled, watching you and Lilia get closer and closer slowly. It was comedic how they all scurried out.

The door closing as you, the knowledge of the Darkhold, laughed the wondrous Madame Calderu for the first time clearly.

"I never gave you your gift did it?" The question fell from your lips softly. You were quieter when with just two people. Her curls shook left and right. "Yeah..you did fuck me pretty good. Imma go get it, I know pottery me would've wanted you to actually have it."

You pressed a kiss to the back of her hands and went to get the bag in the corner of your room. Bringing it back with you to the living room. "Here, she even wrapped it according to you."

"You say she like it still wasn't you?" Lilia sensed the disassociation with roommate she fell heavily for.

Your head shook, "I know that she wasn't me. I would've never made anything in bed that easy." Your smile was still the same though. Even if the eyes with it were full of contained wickedness and chaos. "Go on, pretty girl. Open it."

Her cheeks heated under your prominent gaze. You're right, you wouldn't have made sex easy. As she pulled out the white and yellow paper, she couldn't help to think of how the age gap has shifted. You were millenniums before her. She wasn't even close to one thousand. Her hands touched something cool. Grasping around it and pulling it up.

It was a ceramic card holder. The details being all so familiar to the witch. They were the same ones she painted long ago by her own hand. It was almost replicas of each card lining around the sides. But the cover was her most favorite part, the big queen of cups stared up at her. Except the difference was the color in curls. They weren't red and young like how Lilia's was, these were peppered like hers now. Like the face you had met.

"You knew?" Her eyes leaped to yours as her fingers couldn't help to take in every inch of texture.

Your head nodded slowly, "I always had an inkling I was missing something but I wasn't ever going to piece together the truth. And it was the amount of attention the card. I figured one plus one equals two... do you like it?"

"Baby I love it. Thank you." She whispered so gently. This time she leaned in. Her wised smile pressing to your goofy one. It felt natural already and made all the chaos you hold disappear into a void of knowledge.

She was someone you could get used to.

[okdamage423]

I am disgusted, this needs to stop

Let me say this loud and clear: you failed Brody Grant. I don’t care if you call yourself a fan or not—some of you have crossed every line of decency and respect when it comes to how you’ve treated him. He’s been playing Ponyboy in The Outsiders for over two years, dedicating himself to bringing this role to life night after night. Yet, instead of celebrating his talent and hard work, people have mocked him, overwhelmed him, and acted like his boundaries don’t matter.

What makes this even harder to stomach is something I learned while listening to a guest podcast episode Brody did. He opened up about his struggles with mental health, even admitting that he’s battled suicidal ideations in the past. Hearing him talk about that was heartbreaking—it made it clear just how much he’s been carrying while continuing to give his all as a performer.

Let’s start with the entitlement. Brody didn’t show up at the stage door? So what? He’s not obligated to meet you after a show. Yet some of you acted like this was some kind of betrayal, chasing him down the tunnels and making his private moments public. Do you realize how invasive and selfish that is? This man has given you everything during his performances, yet you’ve made it clear that even his personal time and mental health aren’t off-limits to your demands. News Flash: actors don’t owe you anything more than you payed for-and when you bought your ticket there was nothing say thing you were going to get an audience with him.

And then there are the TikToks and cruel comments. Mocking his singing, his acting, his choices. What exactly did you think you were accomplishing with that? Did you think it was funny? Did you think he wouldn’t see or hear about it?

This is someone who has been honest about struggling with suicidal thoughts—and while he might not be in that place anymore, the damage your words can do doesn’t just disappear. Recovery doesn’t mean he’s invincible. Your petty jokes and mocking TikToks could still hurt him deeply, whether you realize it or not.

The most frustrating part of this is how selfish it all is. You’ve put your own fleeting desires and opinions above someone else’s mental health and humanity. Did you stop for one FUCKING second to consider how your actions might affect him? Did it ever cross your mind that your cruelty could push someone back into a dark place?

Because that’s the reality. Words and actions have consequences. Just because Brody was brave enough to talk about his struggles on a podcast doesn’t mean he should have to deal with the fallout of your selfishness.

He has given you over two years of his life, playing a role that demands everything from him emotionally and physically. He’s done all of this while dealing with challenges most of us can’t imagine. And this is how you repay him? By mocking him, overwhelming him, and acting like his boundaries don’t matter?

It’s disgusting. It’s selfish. And it needs to stop.

If you’ve ever called yourself a fan, it’s time to prove it. Support him. Respect his boundaries. And think about how your words and actions could affect someone who’s already been through so much. Brody has been brave enough to share his struggles—now it’s your turn to be better. Don’t let your entitlement be the reason someone else suffers. Do fucking better.

[niallerspayno]

About Last Night (Louis Tomlinson x reader) - Fic Request

Masterlist

Anonymous request: Hi!! I was wondering if you could do Louis Tomlinson x fem! Reader who is in the band, her and Louis always had a flirty relationship but always told people it was a joke until one night during one of their tours things get heated between them and they hook up, a few weeks later reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Louis so she goes to her best friend Niall Horan for advice and Louis ends up over hearing them? Smut and fluff please!!

Tags: Louis x reader, friends to lovers, smut, pregnancy, fluff, angst

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

…

The arena hums softly with the buzz of amps and muffled conversations, but your focus is already on Louis, who stands near the drum kit, spinning a drumstick between his fingers with that familiar mischievous glint in his eye. This is how it’s always been with the two of you—partners in chaos, constantly toeing the line of what you can get away with, but never crossing it. The harmless flirting, the relentless teasing—it’s your thing.

“Don’t even think about it,” you call out, a grin tugging at your lips.

Louis turns to you, all innocence and dimples. “Think about what, love?”

“Oh, you know exactly what,” you say, stepping closer. “Put the stick down before you get us all in trouble.”

“Trouble?” he echoes, mock-offended. “I am the very definition of responsibility.”

“You’re the definition of a menace,” you retort, grabbing the other drumstick off the snare. You twirl it between your fingers and smirk at him. “If you’re going to cause chaos, at least make it entertaining.”

His eyes light up at your challenge. “I knew I could count on you, partner.”

Before anyone can stop you, Louis taps the microphone stand with his drumstick, and you follow suit, matching his rhythm with the snare drum. The resulting cacophony blares through the speakers, earning a collective groan from Liam and the sound crew.

“Really?!” Liam barks from center stage, throwing his hands up. “Do you two have to do this every time?”

“Yes,” you and Louis say in unison, both grinning like kids caught raiding the cookie jar.

“Unbelievable,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh, lighten up, Payno,” Louis says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re just making things more fun.”

“Fun is subjective,” Liam replies, deadpan.

Louis doesn’t even acknowledge him, already pulling you toward the piano at the corner of the stage. “Come on, let’s give them a real show.”

You follow without hesitation, laughing as you plop down on the bench beside him. “Alright, Mozart, let’s hear it.”

“Watch and learn, darling,” he says, cracking his knuckles dramatically before slamming his fingers onto the keys.

The result is an aggressively off-key rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and you immediately burst into laughter, doubling over as he continues his “masterpiece.”

“Wow,” you say between giggles, clapping along. “Move over, Beethoven. Louis Tomlinson has arrived.”

“I know,” he says smugly, tossing you a wink. “Don’t be jealous of my talent.”

“Talent?” you tease, leaning closer. “This is more like a crime against music.”

“Oh, you wound me,” he says, clutching his chest in mock pain. “But I’ll forgive you because you look cute when you’re pretending to be unimpressed.”

You arch an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to close the space between you. “Who says I’m pretending?”

He falters for a split second, just enough for you to notice, before recovering with a smirk. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but the playful tone in your voice makes it clear you’re enjoying every second.

The moment lingers, his eyes locked on yours, the air between you buzzing with unspoken tension. But before anything can happen, Liam’s voice cuts through like a bucket of cold water.

“Enough!” he shouts. “Can we please get back to work?”

Louis groans dramatically, standing up and offering you a hand. “Fine, Payno. We’ll behave. For now.”

“Behaving’s overrated anyway,” you say, letting him pull you to your feet.

He grins, leaning in just enough to make your heart race. “Spoken like a true partner in crime.”

You smirk back, the flush creeping up your neck impossible to hide. “You couldn’t handle this partnership without me.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, before finally letting you go.

As you return to your spot on stage, his laughter still ringing in your ears, you can’t help but feel the familiar thrill that comes with being Louis’s partner in crime. This is just how it’s always been—safe, playful, and light. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

…

The club is alive with pulsing music, flashing lights, and the hum of conversation. The six of you—plus a few crew members—have commandeered a booth near the dance floor, a place to regroup between rounds of drinks and bursts of reckless fun. The night is supposed to be lighthearted, a rare break in the chaos of touring. But your attention keeps drifting toward the bar, where Louis leans casually against the counter, chatting up a pair of girls who can’t stop giggling at whatever he’s saying.

You take another sip of your drink, the sharp burn of tequila doing little to distract you. It shouldn’t bother you. This is Louis, after all—flirty, charming, and always ready to make someone’s night with a cheeky grin. It’s harmless. Always harmless. Just like it’s always been with you and him.

But tonight, it stings.

“You alright there, love?”

Niall’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to find him sliding into the booth beside you, a fresh pint in hand. His blue eyes are sharper than they should be after three rounds, catching onto your mood immediately.

“Fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just enjoying the view.”

Niall snorts, following your gaze toward Louis. “Ah. Him.”

“Him what?” you ask, though your tone is defensive even to your own ears.

“You’re watching him like he owes you money,” Niall says, smirking, but his voice softens when he adds, “What’s going on?”

You hesitate, swirling your drink in your hand. Niall’s always been the one you confide in, the one who listens without judgment. But this—whatever this is—feels like dangerous territory.

“It’s nothing,” you lie.

“Sure it is,” he says, leaning closer. “Come on. You’re never this quiet.”

You glance at Louis again, just in time to see him lean in to whisper something in one of the girls’ ears. Your chest tightens, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“It’s stupid,” you say, setting your glass down with more force than necessary. “I just… I don’t get how he can be like that. Flirting with everyone, acting like it’s all a game.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “That’s just Louis, though. You know that.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, staring at the condensation on your glass. “But sometimes I wonder if it’s ever not a game for him. If he ever actually means it.”

Niall doesn’t answer right away, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Finally, he says, “And what if he does? Would that change things?”

You laugh, though it’s bitter and hollow. “Not for him. He’d still be Louis, and I’d still be the idiot who gets worked up over it.”

“Hey,” Niall says gently, nudging your shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. You care about him. That’s not stupid.”

You look at him, startled by how easily he’s put words to something you’ve been trying to deny. “I didn’t say I care about him.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His voice is kind, but it hits you like a punch to the gut. You reach for your drink again, draining the rest of it in one go.

“Okay,” you say, standing up abruptly. “I need another one.”

“Hang on,” Niall says, grabbing your wrist before you can escape. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re already—”

“Drinking?” you interrupt, flashing him a wry smile. “Yeah, I know. That’s kind of the point.”

Niall lets you go, watching as you make your way to the bar. You don’t look at Louis as you order another round, but you can feel his presence—his laughter, his charm—like a static charge in the air.

When you return to the booth, Niall’s still waiting, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell him, you know,” he says quietly.

“Tell him what?”

“Whatever it is you’re feeling. If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

You sit down, your drink clutched tightly in your hands. “What if I never am?”

Niall shrugs, his usual easygoing demeanor softening. “Then that’s okay, too. But just… don’t beat yourself up over it, alright? He’s an idiot, but he’d be even more of one not to see how great you are.”

You manage a small smile, but the ache in your chest doesn’t fade. Across the room, Louis throws his head back in laughter, and you drain your drink, trying not to think about what it would mean if Niall was right.

...

You’re halfway through your drink, the alcohol starting to make the room blur at the edges, when you feel someone slide into the booth beside you. It’s not Niall this time—he’s gone to the bar for another round.

“Having fun, partner?”

You don’t need to look to know it’s Louis. His voice, low and warm, cuts through the haze like a match striking in the dark.

“Loads,” you reply, your tone sharper than you intended. You focus on your glass, not him.

There’s a pause, and then he leans closer, so close you can feel the heat of him against your arm. “What’s got you in a mood, then?”

You scoff, finally turning to meet his gaze. “Why would I be in a mood?”

Louis’s brow furrows, and he studies you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Dunno. That’s why I’m asking.”

You shrug, trying to brush him off. “It’s nothing. Go back to your fans.”

Realization dawns in his expression, and his lips curve into a small smirk. “Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. He tilts his head toward the bar, where the girls he’d been chatting with have moved on. “They’re just fans, love. Took a couple photos, had a laugh. That’s all.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say quickly, taking another sip of your drink.

“Clearly, it does,” he counters, his voice dipping lower.

You glance at him, and the teasing edge in his expression is gone, replaced by something quieter. More serious. It makes your stomach flip, and you hate how easily he gets under your skin.

“I just don’t get how you can do it,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Turn it on and off like it’s nothing.”

Louis stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours. Then he leans back slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You think it’s nothing?”

You don’t answer, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not. I just… I don’t know. It’s easier sometimes to keep it light, you know? Keeps people from expecting too much.”

Your chest tightens at his words, and you look away, focusing on the dance floor instead. It feels safer than looking at him when he’s being like this—honest and raw in a way that catches you off guard.

Louis follows your gaze, then nudges you with his shoulder. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Dance with me.”

You blink at him. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he says, standing up and holding a hand out to you. “Unless you’re scared you can’t keep up.”

It’s a challenge, one you’d normally accept without hesitation. But tonight, there’s something heavier in the air between you, something that makes you hesitate.

“Louis…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Just one dance, love. For old time’s sake.”

You sigh, finishing the last of your drink before placing your hand in his. His grip is warm and steady as he pulls you to your feet, leading you toward the dance floor.

The music is loud and fast, but Louis doesn’t seem to care. He spins you around dramatically, earning a laugh despite yourself, and when he pulls you close, his grin is infectious.

“There she is,” he says, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, though you’re not sure it’s true.

“No?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are just inches from your ear. “Then what are you?”

The question lingers, hanging between you as the beat of the music thrums in your chest. You glance up at him, your breath catching at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, your fingers tighten around his, and you let him pull you closer.

The music is deafening, the bass vibrating through your chest as Louis pulls you closer. The heat of the crowd presses in around you—sweaty bodies moving together in time with the pulsing beat—but all you can feel is him. His hand rests lightly on your waist, fingers brushing against the bare skin where your top has ridden up, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

You match his rhythm, your bodies swaying together as the lights flash and the room spins in a blur of color and sound. He leans down, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs something you can’t hear over the music. But it doesn’t matter, because the low rasp of his voice alone makes your pulse race.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, then slide down to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire club has faded away.

He’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before, like he’s trying to memorize every detail. And you can’t look away.

“Louis,” you manage to say, but your voice is swallowed by the music.

He doesn’t answer, just pulls you even closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. His hand tightens on your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin, and it’s almost too much.

The air between you is charged, thick with something you can’t quite name but can’t ignore either. And when his lips brush against your temple—soft, almost tentative—it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your resolve snaps.

Without thinking, you grab his hand and tug him toward the edge of the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until you find a dark hallway leading toward the bathrooms.

“Here?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless as you pull him into the dimly lit space.

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” you reply, your back pressing against the wall as he steps closer, crowding into your space.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hands are on your hips in an instant, his lips crashing against yours with a force that makes your head spin. It’s all heat and desperation, months of tension unraveling in a single, searing kiss.

You fist your hands in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans softly against your lips. The sound sends a thrill through you, and you arch into him, gasping when his mouth moves to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your throat, his voice low and strained.

But stopping is the last thing on your mind. “Don’t,” you whisper.

The noise of the club fades into a dull throb, your pulse pounding in your ears as Louis pulls you deeper into the hallway. His grip is unrelenting, his hand firm around your wrist as he guides you toward the dimly lit bathroom, the air thick with the sharp scent of alcohol and sweat. When you step inside, he doesn’t hesitate. He closes the door behind you with a soft thud, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already pulling you toward him, his hands sliding to the curve of your waist.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice low, gravelly, as he looks you over. His eyes darken with something primal, raw. "I need you."

The way he says it—like there’s no choice in the matter, like he’s been waiting for this—makes your stomach flutter with anticipation. Your heart races as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His body presses flush against yours, the heat radiating off of him like a furnace.

You’re suddenly aware of everything—his breath against your skin, the brush of his chest against yours, the sensation of his hands sliding down to grip your thighs as he carries you toward one of the stalls. The door bangs against the wall as he kicks it open with a force that leaves you breathless. You barely register it, too caught up in the way he’s looking at you—so intensely, so urgently—that it’s like the entire world outside has ceased to exist.

Louis doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. He presses you back against the door, and the sharp click of the lock echoes in the small space. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, deliberately, until the cool air hits your skin. The contrast of the cold on your warm body makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of him against you.

"God, you're perfect," he mutters under his breath, his eyes raking over you like he can’t quite believe you’re here. His mouth finds the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes your pulse spike. He’s everywhere at once—his lips, his hands, his body—leaving no space between the two of you.

His lips trail lower, his breath hot as it brushes against your collarbone, and you can’t help but shiver, arching into him as his hands slip lower, tracing the curve of your waist and hips. “Louis,” you breathe, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“You want this,” he says, his voice rough with hunger as he presses his body into yours. His hands slide under your skirt, gripping your thighs, his thumbs brushing the inside of your legs. The sensation sends a shock of desire through you, and you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

You’re both moving instinctively now—his body surging into yours, your hands tearing at his jeans, pushing them down just enough so you can feel the hard line of him pressing into you. You’re both breathless, desperate, as your bodies start moving together, finding a rhythm born from nothing but pure need.

The heat between you is overwhelming, suffocating. You can feel every inch of him against you, your bodies grinding together with a desperation that feels like it's been building for weeks, months even. His lips find yours again, more forcefully this time, his tongue slipping between your lips as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his body.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans against your mouth, his hands moving to the zipper of your skirt, tugging it down, leaving you exposed to him in the dim light.

You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, but the shock of it only fuels the fire between you. You push him back slightly, giving yourself enough room to pull off your panties, tossing them carelessly to the side. His eyes darken at the sight, and he groans again, his hands trembling slightly as they slide down your body.

“God, you’re killing me,” he mutters as he presses his body into yours again, the door rattling against the force of it. His lips trail down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth.

“You want me?” he asks, his voice low, dangerous, as his hands slide between your bodies, his fingers brushing against you, making you gasp.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, I need you.”

And just like that, he’s pulling you closer, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he positions himself against you. The first thrust is slow, deliberate, but it doesn’t take long for the urgency to take over, for both of you to lose control.

Your bodies move together with a frantic rhythm, the pressure building, tightening, until you feel like you’re going to explode. The sensation is overwhelming, dizzying, and you cling to him, feeling his hands grip your skin like he’s afraid to let go. His breath comes in ragged gasps against your ear as he buries his face in your neck, his body pressing into yours with every thrust.

The world outside the stall is forgotten—there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rhythm of your bodies, the urgent need to feel more.

When it happens, it’s all at once—the sharp pull of release, the sensation of your body shuddering as he groans your name, the feeling of him inside you. You lose yourself in him completely, and for a moment, the entire world falls away, leaving nothing but the raw, pulsing connection between the two of you.

For a long time, neither of you speaks. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you stand there, still tangled together in the small, dimly lit stall. The air is thick, heavy with the aftermath, and the sound of the club’s music feels distant now, like it belongs to someone else’s world.

Louis rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your hips as if he’s afraid to let you go. His breathing slows, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice soft, the intensity from moments ago replaced with something else. Something almost tender.

You nod, your hands tracing the lines of his back, still feeling the echo of his touch. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m more than okay.”

And for a brief, fleeting moment, it feels like everything has shifted.

...

The morning light seeps through the curtains, casting pale slivers across the room, and you wake with a pounding headache that has everything to do with last night. As you sit up, stretching stiff muscles, your fingers graze your neck, and you freeze.

You already know what you’ll find. Your stomach flips as you rush to the mirror, pulling your hair away to reveal dark, circular marks. Hickeys. Louis’s hickeys.

Heat floods your face as the memories from last night rush back—his hands on your body, the rasp of his voice in your ear, the way he kissed you like he was starving for it. A shiver runs through you, not from regret, but from how damn good it all was.

Still, the marks are a problem. You grab your makeup bag and get to work, layering concealer and powder until they’re faint enough to be hidden by your hair. It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. You can’t let the others see. You can’t let anyone see.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s a message from Louis: "You good?"

Your heart hammers as you type back: "We need to talk."

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on his door. When it swings open, Louis is there—hair tousled, barefoot, still half-asleep, but the way he looks at you makes it clear he knows why you’re here.

“Hey,” you say, stepping inside. Your voice feels thin, unsure, but you force yourself to keep going. “About last night...”

Louis closes the door behind you and leans against it, crossing his arms. “Yeah,” he says slowly, watching you with that sharp, unreadable gaze of his.

“I woke up with... these,” you continue, gesturing toward your neck. His eyes follow the motion, a smirk twitching at his lips as he realizes what you’re talking about.

“Didn’t think I went that hard,” he teases, but there’s something softer underneath his usual playfulness. “Sorry about that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers brushing over the covered marks. “It’s fine. I covered them up, but, Louis... no one can know about this. The others would never let us live it down.”

Louis straightens, the smirk slipping into something more serious. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably best if we keep it between us.”

The weight of that decision settles over the room, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, Louis lets out a low laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, for what it’s worth... it was a really fucking good time.”

Your breath catches, your heart flipping at the sincerity in his tone. A small, involuntary smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah,” you admit softly, meeting his gaze. “It really was.”

The tension in the room shifts—heavier, but warmer. There’s something unspoken between you, something lingering from last night, but you force yourself to push it aside.

“But it was... a one-time thing,” you say, your voice firmer now. “We were drunk, caught up in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything. Right?”

Louis hesitates, his jaw tightening ever so slightly before he nods. “Right,” he agrees, though his voice doesn’t carry the same conviction. “Just a one-time thing. We go back to normal. Friends. Bandmates. No weirdness.”

You nod, the words hanging heavy in the air. “Alright,” you say, standing and smoothing your shirt. “I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

Louis follows you to the door, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Yeah,” he says softly. “See you there.”

You step out into the hallway, feeling the weight of everything unspoken between you. The memory of last night burns in your mind, and as much as you tell yourself it was a mistake, a small, stubborn part of you knows it wasn’t.

And as you walk away, you know the secret you’re both keeping won’t be the hardest part. The hardest part will be pretending that you don’t want more.

...

The hotel bathroom feels impossibly small, its tiled walls closing in on you as you stare down at the pregnancy test in your trembling hands. The instructions are simple, straightforward, but they feel like a foreign language as you reread them for the third time.

Niall is waiting just outside, sitting on the edge of your hotel bed. You hadn’t planned to involve him this much, but when you decided to sneak out and buy the test earlier, he’d been the one person you trusted enough to call. Now, as the reality of what you’re about to do looms over you, you’re beyond grateful he’s here.

“Everything okay in there?” Niall’s voice drifts through the door, steady and calm.

“Yeah,” you call back, though your voice wavers. “I’m doing it now.”

“Take your time,” he replies, his tone gentle.

You follow the instructions mechanically, your heart pounding louder with every step. When it’s done, you set the test on the counter, face down, and set the timer on your phone. For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the edge of the sink to steady yourself.

When the timer buzzes, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the test.

“You good?” Niall asks from the other side of the door, the concern in his voice unmistakable.

You take a deep breath and pick up the test. The result is instant.

Pregnant.

The air rushes out of your lungs, and you open the bathroom door without even thinking. Niall is on his feet in an instant, his eyes scanning your face.

“What does it say?” he asks, his voice soft but urgent.

You hold up the test, your hand shaking. “It’s positive,” you whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Niall just stares, processing the words. Then, he crosses the room in two quick steps and pulls you into a hug. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

You cling to him, tears spilling over as the weight of the situation crashes down on you. After a moment, he pulls back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he studies your face.

“Do you… know who the father is?” he asks carefully.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “It’s Louis.”

Niall’s eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth falls open slightly. “Louis?”

You laugh, a short, incredulous sound that bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Yeah. It was that night we all went out to the bar.”

Realization dawns in his eyes, and he stares at you like he’s trying to piece it together. “Wait—so… the bathroom stall?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Yes, the bathroom stall,” you say, your voice muffled.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, to your surprise, Niall starts to laugh—a low chuckle that quickly turns into full-on laughter. It’s contagious, and soon you’re laughing too, tears streaming down your face as the absurdity of it all sinks in.

“I can’t believe I’m having a baby that was conceived in a bathroom stall,” you manage to choke out, shaking your head.

Niall grins, his laughter fading into a warm smile. “Hey, at least you’ll have a good story for the kid someday.”

You snort, wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over great.”

As the laughter subsides, Niall’s expression grows serious again. “You're going to have to tell Louis.”

You shake your head, the weight of that reality settling over you. “Not yet. I don’t even know how to tell him.”

Niall squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here, alright? Whatever you need.”

His support steadies you, and you nod, a small spark of determination flickering to life. “Thanks, Niall,” you say softly.

He smiles, giving your shoulder a final squeeze. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

...

The hotel dining room buzzes with the usual morning energy: clinking cutlery, muted conversation, and the aroma of coffee filling the air. You sit with the boys, doing your best to seem normal as you pick at a piece of toast. The nausea has become a constant companion, and exhaustion drags at you more with each passing day.

“Still not feeling well?” Liam asks, glancing at your plate with a worried frown.

You force a smile. “It’s just a bug. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Zayn points out, his tone sharper than Liam’s, though there’s concern in his dark eyes.

Harry leans back in his chair, studying you closely. “You need to see a doctor. You’re barely eating, and you look knackered.”

“Thanks, Harry,” you say dryly, hoping humor will deflect their growing concern.

Louis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout breakfast, lifts his coffee cup to his lips but says nothing. His eyes linger on you, though, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“I’ll be fine,” you insist again, grabbing your mug and taking a sip even though the coffee turns your stomach. “Just need some rest.”

The boys don’t look convinced, but they eventually let it drop as the conversation shifts to tour logistics. When breakfast wraps up, everyone begins dispersing to their rooms.

As you step into the hallway, Niall gently catches your arm. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?”

“Sure,” you say, letting him steer you toward a quieter section of the corridor.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Louis lingers just out of sight around the corner, pretending to check his phone.

Niall keeps his voice low as he speaks. “How are you holding up? Really.”

You glance around nervously, making sure no one is nearby. “I’m okay,” you lie, though your voice wavers. “Just... trying to figure things out.”

He frowns, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got to stop pushing yourself so hard. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

“I know,” you whisper, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just... it’s a lot, Niall.”

“Have you thought more about telling Louis?”

The question hangs in the air, and your heart sinks. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit. “How do I tell him that I’m pregnant and it’s his baby? That it happened in a bloody bathroom stall?”

Niall snorts, though his expression quickly turns serious again. “You’re going to have to tell him eventually. He deserves to know, and you deserve to have his support.”

“I know,” you say quietly. “I just… I’m scared, Niall. What if he freaks out? What if it changes everything between us?”

“He might freak out,” Niall says honestly. “But he’s Louis. He’ll step up. You’ve got to trust him—and yourself.”

Neither of you notice the shadow around the corner or the way Louis freezes in place, his breath catching as he processes what he just overheard.

“I’ll tell him,” you say finally, your voice shaky but resolute. “I just need to figure out how.”

Niall nods, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ve got your back.”

You manage a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Niall. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As the two of you part ways, Louis remains rooted to his spot, his mind racing. He had only stopped to grab his jacket, not to eavesdrop—but now, he can’t unhear what’s just been revealed.

Pregnant. His baby.

The words loop in his mind, crashing over him in waves of shock and disbelief. He grips the wall for support, his heart pounding as he tries to process what this means—for you, for him, for everything.

...

The hotel suite is unusually quiet, the remnants of breakfast scattered across the coffee table as the boys lounge around. You’re absent, having slipped away earlier, and the rest of the group assumes you’re just taking some much-needed time to yourself.

Louis, however, can’t sit still. He paces the room, his jaw tight and his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, but one thing is clear: he needs answers.

Niall, sitting on the armrest of a couch, notices the tension radiating off Louis. “Mate, you alright?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

That’s all it takes for Louis to stop pacing and whirl around to face him. “No, Niall, I’m not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharp enough to make everyone else in the room sit up straighter.

“What’s going on?” Liam asks, frowning.

Louis ignores him, his blue eyes locked on Niall. “How long were you planning on keeping it from me?” he demands, his voice rising.

“Keeping what from you?” Niall replies carefully, though his face pales slightly.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Louis shouts, taking a step closer. “I know. I heard you talking to her this morning.”

The room falls into stunned silence, and Zayn and Harry exchange wide-eyed looks.

“What are you talking about?” Harry finally asks, his tone laced with confusion.

Louis doesn’t even glance at him. His focus is still entirely on Niall. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she? And it’s mine.”

Niall’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out. The rest of the boys look utterly shell-shocked, their eyes darting between Louis and Niall.

“Is it true?” Liam asks, his voice quieter now, though no less serious.

Niall lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t my place to tell you, Louis,” he says, his voice firm despite the guilt flickering in his eyes. “She needed time to figure out how to say it herself.”

Louis’s laugh is bitter, almost disbelieving. “Time? You don’t think I deserved to know right away? That I deserved to hear it from her—or at least someone—before overhearing you whispering about it in a bloody hallway?”

“I was just trying to be there for her,” Niall says defensively, standing now to meet Louis’s glare. “She’s scared out of her mind, Louis. This isn’t easy for her.”

“You think this is easy for me?” Louis shoots back, his voice cracking slightly. “Finding out I’m going to be a dad like this?”

The words hang in the air, heavy and raw.

Zayn leans forward, his brow furrowed. “Wait. Are you saying Y/N’s pregnant, and it’s yours?”

“Yes,” Louis snaps, throwing his arms out in frustration. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Harry sits back, his jaw slack as he processes the revelation. “Bloody hell.”

“Look, I get that you’re upset,” Niall says, his tone softer now. “But she needed time to figure things out. I was just trying to support her until she was ready to talk to you.”

“She should’ve come to me,” Louis mutters, his anger ebbing slightly but still palpable. “I deserved to know.”

“And she knows that,” Niall replies. “But she’s been scared, Louis. She didn’t want to mess everything up. She didn’t know how you’d react.”

Louis takes a deep breath, his hands raking through his hair as he processes Niall’s words. “I don’t know how to react,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “This is... massive.”

“It is,” Liam says, speaking up for the first time since the confrontation started. “But it’s not something you have to figure out alone. We’re all here for both of you.”

Louis looks around the room, his frustration slowly giving way to uncertainty. “I need to talk to her,” he says finally, more to himself than anyone else.

“Then do that,” Niall says gently. “But give her some grace, mate. She’s dealing with a lot.”

Louis nods, his expression still tense but less combative. Without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving the rest of the boys in stunned silence.

...

You’re standing at the sink in your hotel bathroom, clutching the edge of the counter to steady yourself as another wave of nausea passes. The fluorescent lights buzz faintly, adding to the headache pounding at your temples.

Splashing cold water on your face, you glance at your reflection, pale and drawn. You’d thought you could keep things under control, at least for a little while longer. But the toll on your body is becoming harder and harder to hide.

A knock at the bathroom door startles you. Before you can answer, Louis’s voice cuts through.

“Y/N, it’s me. Open up.”

Your stomach twists for an entirely different reason now. His tone is firm, no trace of his usual teasing lilt. You grab a towel to pat your face dry, stalling for time.

“I’m fine, Louis,” you call back, trying to sound normal.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, and you can hear the resolve in his voice. “We need to talk.”

With a resigned sigh, you open the door. Louis is standing there, arms crossed and a look of determination on his face. The blue of his eyes is intense, searching yours for answers you’re not ready to give.

“Can we do this later?” you ask weakly.

“No,” he says, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “I know.”

Your breath catches. “You know what?”

“I know you’re pregnant,” he says, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “And I know it’s mine.”

The air feels sucked out of the room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“How—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I heard you and Niall talking this morning,” he admits. “I wasn’t eavesdropping—it just happened. And now I need to hear it from you. Is it true?”

You look down at your feet, your hands trembling. “Yes,” you whisper.

Louis exhales sharply, leaning back against the door as he runs a hand through his hair. “How long have you known?”

“About a week,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I took a test. Niall’s the only one I told.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly. “Why did I have to find out like this?”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you sink onto the closed toilet lid. “I didn’t know how to, Louis,” you confess. “It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up. And I didn’t know how you’d react. I was scared.”

“Scared of me?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

“No,” you say quickly. “Not of you. Just... of everything. What this means for us, for the band. I didn’t want to ruin everything.”

Louis crouches down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. The unexpected tenderness in the gesture makes your chest tighten.

“You’re not ruining anything,” he says softly, his voice steadier now. “But you can’t shut me out of this. I deserve to know what’s going on, Y/N. This is my baby too.”

The weight of his words hits you, and you nod, wiping at your eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Louis. I was just... trying to figure it all out.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he says, his hands squeezing your knees gently. “We’ll figure it out together.”

You look up at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “We might not have planned this, but it’s happening. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in days, a flicker of hope sparks in your chest. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Louis stands, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of this bathroom. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. And for the first time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to face this alone.

Louis doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you out of the bathroom, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. He stays standing for a moment, running a hand through his hair as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he finally sits beside you, he turns to face you fully, his expression serious but gentle.

“I know this probably feels overwhelming,” he starts, his voice softer now. “But I need you to know something. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Not now, not ever.”

Tears prick your eyes again, and you bite your lip, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “Louis, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts firmly. “This isn’t about what I have to do. This is my baby, and you... you’re everything to me.”

Your breath catches, and you stare at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. “What do you mean?”

He exhales deeply, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. “I mean I’ve been in love with you for ages, Y/N. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it.”

“Louis...”

He laughs softly, though there’s a trace of vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s true. I’ve hidden behind all the jokes and the flirting because I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. I thought if I said something, I’d ruin what we have. And then that night at the club happened, and I thought maybe... but you said it was a mistake, and I didn’t want to push.”

You shake your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It wasn’t a mistake,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I only said that because I was scared. Scared of ruining what we have, just like you were. But I’ve been in love with you too, Louis. For so long.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks utterly stunned. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. “I mean it.”

He lets out a soft, incredulous laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “All this time, we’ve been dancing around each other like idiots.”

You laugh too, though it’s choked with emotion. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

The two of you sit there for a moment, letting the weight of the truth settle between you. Then Louis’s grin turns mischievous, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Can you believe our kid’s going to have the most ridiculous conception story ever?” he says, his voice teasing.

You can’t help but laugh, the tension breaking slightly. “Conceived in a bathroom stall at a nightclub,” you say, shaking your head. “That’s not exactly the romantic story you tell at family gatherings.”

Louis chuckles, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “No, but it’s our story,” he says, his tone softening again. “And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

The warmth in his gaze makes your heart swell, and before you can overthink it, you lean in. Louis meets you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the heated, impulsive one from that night. This one is slow, deliberate, and full of everything you’ve both been holding back.

When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face. “I’m all in, Y/N,” he says quietly. “For you, for this baby. For everything.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but this time it’s one of relief, not fear. “Me too,” you whisper.

The two of you sit there in the quiet, holding each other as the enormity of the moment settles in. For the first time in weeks, you feel like everything might just be okay.

...

Part 2

[voidsuites]

ARTRICK BOT RELEASE !!! (11/13/24) ⌢⠀ 🎾 .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．coach's orders. you’re art’s newest player— an up-and-coming name in the tennis world— but you’re stubborn and prone to working yourself to the bone in the name of the game. tashi would’ve loved you if she’d gotten her hands on you first, but you’re here with him, on his private backyard court, listening to his advice about your game and ultimately, your career. and damnit, art’s not going to take that for granted (even if it means pushing the delicate boundaries between an athlete and their coach). you’ve got to learn how to relax, and art’s not opposed to bending you over the net if that’ll fix things.

art donaldson ・゜゜・．lesson planning. it’s your first year having a hands-on role in building out and finalizing the curriculum for the middle school english department, but your focus has been equally split between what books your kids are going to read and the head of the english department himself, mr. donaldson. you’d been wary to accept such a high responsibility in the first place, but he’d insisted that you help him review the materials during prep week, and you'd never say no to art… even if it means awkwardly dancing around the fact that you’re both clearly into one another— oh, and that he’s finally taken off his wedding ring.

art and patrick ・゜゜・．night of the living frat! it really should be sacrilegious that sigma chi’s hosting a costume party just a week after halloween, but none of the brothers had been able to resist yet another party before finals overtook the rest of the semester. besides— who passes up a chance to dress up and drink? the music’s loud, the drinks are a-flowin’, and you’d never be able to tell that tonight isn’t halloween. no one’s the wiser… which only makes it harder for art and patrick to keep their hands to themselves and their heads out of the gutter when you eventually materialize. hopefully they can convince you to stay the night… if they can remember how to share first.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．mr. z. everyone loves mr. zweig— or “mr. z” as the students like to call him— and as the newest teacher amongst the faculty ranks, he’s quick to make nice and befriend everyone, including you. normally, you’d normally be skeptical of a washed-up pro tennis player coming to fill in the vacant gym teacher position, but you instead find yourself spending more time with patrick and enjoying yourself. it’s only a matter of time before you realize that lines are blurring and that whatever is going on between you both is way more than a friendship between fellow teachers coworkers.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．shopping spree. frequent trips to the high-end side of the city had never been your sort of thing thing, but now that you’re dating patrick they’ve become a weekly occurrence. you never leave empty-handed, and it’s always on his dime (at his insistence, of course, it’s all chump change to him anyway). who cares about the staring you two get when he totes you and your purchases of the day around the city?— he’s the one that gets to go about his business with you on his arm. everyone else is just lucky he just can’t help showing you off while he does.

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 5.2K AND 2 MIL+ CHATS! this is actually insanity i don't even know what to say or how to feel but thank you thank you 😭😭😭😭😭😭 challengers brainrot has struck again (big surprise) these are all mostly aus— the art and pat teacher bots (lesson planning + mr. z) are based off of headcanons by dearest mars (the lovely @saintzweig) and the shopping spree pat bot is based off of the moodboard by my true love @diyasgarden !!! please please please please please give my lovely moots a follow bc without them (and everyone else) i would not have any ideas and you all would just be subjected to the whistling wind that blows in my head when nothing is going on in there (which happens often!) love love LOVE you guys for real i am so grateful for all of the support and giggles that we all have <33333333333

[dgaftilwedie]

namgyu nsfw alphabet!!!

i've had this sitting in my google docs for almost two months now?? and i saw one of my moots post their version, so i thought i'd post my own too!! i went a teensy tiny bit crazy but namgyu's like, my favorite character ever so i felt obligated <3 i wrote this at like 2 in the morning so please excuse any spelling/grammar errors... oopsies

contains: 18+ content (minors dni, you know the drill), namgyu being a freak (affectionate), recreational drug use, somno, namgyu's probably a tad ooc (i am a firm believer namgyu isn't a pos to his partners, just the people he doesn't like), just a whole bunch of stuff :3 everything's below the cut!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If Namgyu’s with somebody he loves, it reflects in the way he takes care of them after sex. He’s an avid fan of basking in the afterglow and not cleaning up immediately. He’ll hold your naked body against his chest and talk to you about whatever crosses his mind. Expect a lot of late-night conversations passing a cigarette back and forth after going to Freak Town. He also has a mini-fridge in his room that has snacks and water in them, and he’ll offer to grab you something if you’re interested.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You can very clearly tell he loves his hands. They’re pretty big with slender fingers that are always adorned with rings. Always. He loves the way they look running through your hair, around your throat, gripping your thighs, inside of you… As for you, it’s hard for him to choose just one thing. Namgyu thinks it’s corny but everything about you is perfection to him. He’d probably say something about your eyes, or how soft your hair is, or how nice you smell… Or something about your thighs. Fuck, he loves your thighs. He likes grabbing them, likes when they’re tightened around his head or shaking around his waist. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Namgyu likes it messy. He’ll cum all over your face, your chest, your stomach, pretty much anywhere. He doesn’t care. Sometimes he’ll be a dick and try to get it in your hair. His freaky ass likes to take pictures of your face when it’s covered in his cum just to jerk off to them later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to “borrow” your dirty underwear to jerk off with it. He’s embarrassed to even think about it, but whenever he comes over, he just… Y’know, snags a pair off the floor or out of your laundry and brings ‘em home!!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Namgyu knows what he’s doing; that’s for sure. He’s been around the block. Not a total manwhore, but he’s had his fair share of one-night stands. However, when he’s with you, he doesn’t really consider his previous experiences. Namgyu focuses more on what feels good for the both of you. He wants to learn your body and all the things that get you off. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

AVID SPOONING ENJOYER. Namgyu loves any position where the two of your are as close as humanly possible. He needs to be able to feel your body against him in like 20 different spots at all times. Any position that gives him easy access to your neck is another factor. Sometimes when he doesn’t have that much energy, he’ll sit with his back against his headboard and insist you ride him like that. He’ll dig his fingers into your waist and press wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you do all the work.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Namgyu gets very giggly during sex. He makes it a challenge to try and make you laugh at every opportunity. Part of it is because he loves how cute you look when you’re happy, but another part of it is that he hates when the tension gets too high. It makes his nervous. He’ll tickle your sides while he’s buried deep inside of you or crack the occasional stupid joke. It may be annoying but at least you know he’s comfortable with you!! However, there are definitely times where he doesn’t give a fuck how tense it is. He’ll be all over you, all act and no play. These are usually times where he’s either angry, jealous, or super fucking horny.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s trimmed. He hates having a lot of hair so he keeps it nice and short. However, it’s very soft. Take that as you will.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If he’s with someone he loves, he’s a complete sap. Sex is actually really special to Namgyu if it’s with someone like you. No matter how rough he is, he makes sure you know deep down that he loves you. He’ll degrade you, but it’s broken up with praises of how well you’re taking him, how beautiful you look, how good you’re doing for him. He’ll sink his teeth into your neck just to make you jump only to pepper your neck and your face with the gentlest kisses. Namgyu’s always telling you how much he loves you. Again, he becomes a complete sap with you. “I love you”s before, during, and after are a must for him. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Namgyu’s kind of a horndog, honestly. He gets worked up pretty quickly. Lucky for you, he’s really cute when he jerks off. He’ll bite his bottom lip as, whining about the things he wants to do to you. Or the things he wants you to do to him. He whimpers when he cums, too. If he’s in a really good mood and you overhear him, you’ll probably catching mumbling under his breath about how he’s “such a good boy for you”.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I have a lot to say here… He’s an absolute freak in the sheets.

Marking of any kind. Hickeys, scratches, anything that tells people you’re each other’s. That’s a must for him. A necessity.

Hairpulling. If you’re pulling his hair, he’ll come undone almost immediately. 

Absolutely into dry humping. This is very important to me. And to him. 

Praise and degradation. He doesn’t shut up during sex, and he loves it when you get on the fun and start saying shit to him. It makes his knees buckle.

He’s a little bit of a voyeur, honestly!! If you let him, he’d love to just sit there and watch you touch yourself. I mentioned it above, but he also takes a lot of pictures of the two of you during sex to use for later.

VERY into phone sex. Nudes, voice messages, nut videos (with the sound on)... Sometimes he’ll even call you when he’s on a break at work just to rub one out in the bathroom.

Somnophilia… If you’re into it, he’d love to wake you up with his head in between your legs.

Dacryphilia on the downlow. It doesn’t turn him on if you’re crying because you’re like, sad or in pain, but he loves making you feel so good you cry. He could easily spend hours teasing you just to see a tear drip down your cheeks as you beg him to let you cum. It drives his mind wild to think about it.

Speaking of, he loves making you beg for it. 9 times out of 10, you’re not cumming until he hears you begging for it. 

Stoned sex!! I will expand on this later…

Lowkey wouldn’t mind you call him a good puppy. But it’s gonna take a lot of courage on his end to open up about that one… He likes when you take control in general, honestly.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As long as your both comfortable, he doesn’t give a fuck. He’d prefer to do it on a soft surface, like a bed or a couch or at the very least, a blanket. If you’re both super worked up, he doesn’t mind fuck you against the wall of a bathroom stall or the backseat of his car!! Happy wife (gender neutral), happy life!! <3

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Like I mentioned, Namgyu gets worked up pretty easily. The most subtle touches can get him hard, and it’s actually really cute. Touching his neck is your best bet if you wanna get him in the mood. Run your fingers through his hair and scratch just the right spot, maybe give it a tug. Slip your fingers around the hem of his pants or press them against his stomach. He really likes that. He also has a thing for people running their fingers over his tattoos and fidgeting with his rings or pulling his chain. He’s a little easy, ok?? Just a bit.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Namgyu’s into some harder shit but he doesn’t fuck with shit or vomit. Ageplay also weirds him out.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Namgyu’s just a little bit selfish… He loves when you suck him off. He’ll run his fingers through his hair, tugging on it to guide you, basically using your mouth as a fleshlight. He gets a little bit carried away sometimes, but your mouth just feels so good on his cock… On the flip side, he hasn’t had that much practice going down on other people. He barely knows what he’s doing at first. He just wings it with sloppy kisses and kitten licks. However, Namgyu’s a very fast learner. He figures out what he’s doing faster than you anticipated. He quickly discovers everything that makes you tick, and fuck, he gets really good at it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on what kind of mood he’s in. If he’s in a bad mood, you’re getting your guts obliterated. Sometimes he’ll take it so painfully slow it feels like he’s torturing you (he is) (because he’s an asshole). Most of the time, however, he’s at a nice little in-between. He’ll switch between fast, sensual thrusts to ones that are so slow and so rough and so hard you’d think he’s trying to make you explode. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Namgyu eats quickies UP. He loves them. Sometimes you think he loves them more than regular sex. There’s nothing he loves more than dragging you to a bathroom or a dead-end alley to release whatever pent-up frustration you have. He knows you need it, and he just gets so distracted, he can’t help himself… Sometimes you’ll surprise him at work before his breaks and Namgyu will take you to one of the empty VIP rooms just to fuck you. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh, absolutely. Namgyu is the epitome of risky. He’ll (try to) try anything once, and he’s very vocal about the things that he doesn’t like. He’s super cool with bringing things into the bedroom as long as you have a conversation about it first so he isn’t surprised. If you want a safe word, he’s down with that too, but if you tell him to stop, he’s going to stop. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can usually go about three rounds on a good day, as long as he has a quick break in between them. If he’s in the right mood (or he popped a pill beforehand) he can go as many rounds as you want without stopping. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Namgyu doesn’t personally own any. He’s never felt the need for them if his hand (or your mouth) is right there. If you use them or are interested in bringing them into the bedroom, he’s intrigued. He fantasizes about it way more than he wants to admit. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This is Namgyu we’re talking about. Namgyu’s an asshole. He loves teasing you. Adores it, actually. It makes sex just so much more fun to him to watch you shake, whining about how bad you need him. He loves making you beg for the smallest things, whether it be a kiss or for him to finally put his dick inside of you. Sometimes he’ll stop his movements all together just to hear you cry out his name. He’ll have you thinking he’s going to let you cum before pulling out and laughing as you clench around nothing. He always makes up for it at the end, though.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s so fucking noisy. Like I said, he doesn’t shut up during sex. He basically talks you through it. He wants to be able to hear you, just you, but you feel so fucking good it makes his head swirl. He can’t help it!! He gets so whimpery in the moment, even when he’s in charge. He’ll bury his face into your neck as he tries to hold back his moans. It doesn’t work. It’s really hot. Especially when you can feel his breath against his neck and hear his mumbles more clear because he’s right next to your hair. If you’re fucking him, it’s a whole other story. He doesn’t even bother trying.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I mentioned it earlier, but stoned sex is one of his favorite things ever. He doesn’t want to pressure you but if you’re down, he’s the happiest camper. He’ll light up a joint for the two of you to share and it’ll lead to the softest, giggliest, laziest, most intimate sex you’ll ever have. He’s pace with be so slow and so sensual. Every thrust feels like heaven, and the way he cups your face and kisses you every five seconds will have you practically falling apart. 

Also, if you’re AFAB, he does not care if you’re on your period (as long as you don’t care). He’ll lay a towel down and go to town. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5¾’’, cut. Shaft is #EBC3BA, tip is #D9A69E. Slight upwards curve that hits literally the perfect spot. Prince Albert with black jewelry.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty fucking high. He could go multiple times a day if you were down. He’d totally understand if you weren’t, though. He’ll just jerk off and get on with his day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Namgyu prefers to stay awake after sex. Usually it takes him an hour or two to fall asleep afterwards, but he likes to make sure you’re comfortable and/or asleep first so he’s not just leaving you hanging. Sometimes he’ll just forgo sleep and pop a pill. If you fall asleep and he’s still awake, he’ll hold you close to him, running his fingers through your hair. He likes to trace your features, admire the face he gets to wake up to every day. He’ll talk to you even though you’re asleep, telling you about his day, but eventually he’ll start to spill out the most heartwarming compliments about you - ones that he couldn’t say to your face without getting embarrassed. 

[finalgirlmorgue]

The Rookie. . . ૮₍˶•▿•˶₎ა 

⭐﹒LEON KENNEDY X older! fem! READER ⭐﹒

⭐﹒- 1000+ words

⭐﹒fluff and smut

⭐﹒not proof read

⭐﹒comment to be added to my tag list!

⭐﹒req open

💫 - Leon and his superior are stuck in the RPD elevator...

Raccoon City Police department was made up of several divisions with distinct positions. Avoiding unequal power dynamics between employees wasn't easy. The Juvenile Crime Division was at the very bottom of the pyramid. Rookies worked alongside higher ups and Tutor officers for a period of time that serviced as a training. That's where you find yourself, in a police car with a wide eyed Leon Kennedy, an eager younger man who was your Protege for the Fall. He was staring down at his nose, a ball of nerves. His face was covered in sweat and his hair flopped over his forehead and into his eyes.

A 4 hour standoff that ended in several arrests, that was good, but it didn't help his inexperience anxiety. You had a rookie on your hands, a kid, whose sole purpose was to prove himself as a good cop. He was 4 or 5 years younger then you, but taller, he hadn't been hardened yet. he hadn't seen the world of police and justice yet or everything that came with it. That was the way these things went and he would learn soon enough.

You had met a year ago. You had gotten him through his first few weeks with the job, though not by much, he was clumsy and clueless. But you took care of him and eventually, he started to warm up to you. In the beginning, you were both awkward around each other, but you felt like there were times when he looked up to you even if he couldn't say it in words. Soon that phase passed, slowly. He called you Miss Or officer during the work day, a strict policy he had crafted himself to be completely professional with his mentor. And you would do the same for him whenever the need arose, which was all the time. Your relationship grew stronger by the day and now that your mentee had graduated from probationary period and was officially assigned his first real mission, things felt right. He was still under you as an officer and mentee, but that only meant more opportunities, more challenges and new ways for him to show his worth. He was already showing you his strengths, and it wasn't too hard for him to catch up to his peers.

He sat in the car, breathing heavily through his mouth. lips wet from saliva, cheeks reddened from the night air, hair plastered to the side of his head from the humidity. It was a perfect early morning. 4 AM. On call for a drug deal gone wrong. 12 suspects, 2 dead bodies, four of them in custody, one escaped and running and several awaiting questioning.

The golden boy was slumped, he had squeezed the trigger of his gun so many times his fingers had begun to cramp and numb. His hands trembled violently as he stared out at the crime scene. The blood was everywhere, splattered across the sidewalk, near the car of suspect #2. A pool of thick, rusty red lay at the edge of the concrete curb. It oozed along the blacktop until it stopped where the asphalt met the gravel. A dark stain. The blood had dried to a solid brownish grey.

"You gonna tap out for the night after this?" You asked.

Leon turned to you with a confused look on his face. "Uh…no. I've gotta get this done," he said. "What about you..?"

"I'll hangout until 5 or 6. I wanna be around for witnesses when they get here."

That seemed to satisfy him. Leon turned back to the street with a grim expression on his face. He leaned forward slightly, looking past the body, at the street. "when's the cleanup team gonna come around?.." Leon asked.

"soon. They blocked off the area. They're gonna put up roadblocks. We'll have some traffic cops come by later And then we'll clean it up. Just sit tight. it'll all be sorted by tonight" You paused, glancing over at the younger man, who seemed focused on his thighs, trying not to get caught up in the adrenaline rush. His hand twitched slightly. It was obvious he could use an ice pack, maybe an aspirin, or even just his own company to calm down. He smoothed out the creases in his pants. He was probably going through the motions, just getting through case by case. He was smart, strong, and had a good sense of what was right. Every cop had a phase where they lost their innocence. When they saw something, and couldn't go back. Leon looked at you for some semblance of comfort, but you just smiled gently. He gave you a smile back.

You weren't sure exactly how long you two sat in silence before a pair of police officers approached the squad car, dismissing you.

As Raccoon city sped and blurred by into streaks of muddy watercolor outside of the window, Leon leaned back further in the passenger seat, closing his eyes, exhausted by the events of the day. His head lolled back, he let out a soft groan. His muscles relaxed as exhaustion set in. You drove in silence for awhile longer, enjoying the smooth ride. The sound of his breathing filled the interior of the vehicle. You watched the city go by, in all of its dirty, corrupt glory. The skyline of downtown stretched out in front of you, tall buildings and small businesses. It was still early in the morning, but it seemed like nighttime had fallen. A heavy fog hung over the streets, giving everything a glassy haze. You rolled down your window. It was muggy in the car, humid, almost hot. Leon's skin flushed pink as he sat up straighter in the seat.

He rubbed his tired eyes and yawned. "Miss Or…uh, Miss Officer…" Leon stammered out. "Can we stop by the RPD?..please? To grab my stuff? And maybe take a shower..it's kinda sweaty in here."

You nodded. "Sure." You pulled into the parking lot behind the precinct and got out, taking your time walking toward the building. It wasn't far from the crime scene, just down the block. "I'll go with you. I'm kind of tired too. My back is starting to ache." Leon was quick to follow. As he walked beside you, he glanced down at your profile. His eyes lingered on the soft lines of your jaw and the shape of your nose, the shape of your chin. His gaze wandered back to the center of your face, which remained stoic. His eyes trailed downward, resting on the neckline of your uniform shirt, which exposed your collarbone. His gaze lingered on it again and he blushed. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked faster to catch up with you.

As you entered the main lobby, greeted by the empty Police desk in the front and an attendant behind a locked door in the back, this late night call had messed everyone up by dragging the whole force into longer hours. "We can head to the locker rooms upstairs first, lets take the elevator." You said.

He pointed his nose to the stairs that led to the second floor of the station, and so on.

Well, the elevator would be faster. Leon followed behind you as you headed forward. The elevator doors opened. The two of you stepped inside. The tiled floors inside were cracking, the paint fading and washing away with each set of feet that trod over them.

The elevator shuddered and swayed with each step and every shake of the machinery. A lightbulb in the ceiling flickered. The walls began to hum and creak, metal straining beneath the weight of its load.

Leon closed his eyes briefly as the doors slid open. He took slow steps to exit. Except.. they doors had only cracked slightly..

he doors opened just enough to taunt you – a magazine's width of space, nothing more. Just enough to see the empty hallway beyond, but not enough to escape. There was no one else in the hallways. The only sound came from Leon's footsteps. The sounds of nervous shuffling and pacing. "Well- we're stuck." Leon sighed in defeat as he stood next to you, arms crossed as a defensive mechanism. He was scared.. he always seemed to be in your presence. This was the first time he'd actually been alone with you in such a small space. The elevator was about the size of two desks pushed together. Even being on opposite ends you two were still only a few feet away. He felt uncomfortable with this proximity. He was stuck, in a tiny, dim room with you in close quarters. His face was bright red, his eyes wide in confusion, and his brows raised high. "So, what do you want me to do?" Leon mumbled quietly.

His eyes trailed downwards to your hands. The gloves you wore, the curve of your knuckles against the leather, the shape of your thumb pressing firmly into your palm with a barely contained frustration.

"Radio?" You kept your voice steady, professional.

"What about yours?" Leon's voice had an edge now, that anxious desperation creeping back in. "You must have—"

Leon patted his empty belt, color draining from his face. "I… left it in the car." The confession came out barely above a whisper.

"Perfect." The word hung in the stale air between you. "So no radio, no way to contact patrol." You ran through options in your head. The building would be nearly empty at this hour –.

"If I had mine," you cut him off, "would I be asking about yours?" The elevator shuddered again, leaving you two stumbling.

The buttons beside the door were worn smooth from decades of use, their numbers barely visible. But what caught your attention was what wasn't there – no emergency button, no call box, not even a telephone line. Just rows of numbered buttons that might as well have been decorative for all the good they were doing right now.

You pushed a number on the first row, hoping something would happen. Nothing happened, just the sound of stale air blowing in the shaft. No lights flickered on or flashed. Nothing. It was quiet. Completely silent. Just like a tomb. You reached for the next number, and found it the same. You continued pushing. You pressed three, four, five.. six buttons, all without result. You were trapped. Trapped in a small space with a rookie cop.

Leon tried to pry the doors open with his hands, putting all of the force into his forearms, but it wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he tried. He growled and threw himself against the doors, trying his best to push them apart with brute strength. "Come on!" he shouted, his breath shortening, "Just open the dang thing already!" He stopped for a moment, looking back toward you. Your eyes were staring straight ahead, unresponsive. His mouth dropped open, and his shoulders slumped.

It took several moments of deep breaths for him to regain composure. You both took a moment to compose yourself, sitting down against the wall across from the elevator door, waiting for help to arrive. You didn't know what to say, or what to do, just in shock.

When Leon eventually spoke, his tone was calm and quiet. "It's okay, don't worry, we'll figure something out." You looked over toward him as he spoke. "Don't worry. We've been through worse."

You looked at him, eyebrows drawn together as you stared at him. You bit at the inside of your cheek as you fought the urge to yell. "Quiet." I breathed. "I don't want to hear any more from you."

Leon didn't understand why you snapped at him and he felt bad for raising his voice earlier. "I'm sorry." He muttered, his head hanging low, ashamed.

You pointed your finger at his chest, backing him into the corner, back pressing against the wood paneling. You gripped his shirt with your hands, shaking violently from anger, and fear. You could feel a cold sweat build up from under your hairline and slide down your forehead. "Shut up." You spat, squeezing tighter. Your heart rate shot up to a million beats a minute. "This is your fault. Your inexperienced, clumsy, you showed up to the office DRUNK, on your first day, and somehow caused this!-" You shoved at his chest with all the force you could muster and pushed him farther into the corner of the tiny space. Your chest heaved. "Now, if you don't shut up, I'll-" You let your words fade, but your face told the rest of it.

"I'm sorry Miss… Officer." He whimpered. You let your hold loosen, releasing his shirt slowly, as though letting it breathe. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and anger. You glared at him, your nostrils flared. Leon lowered his head as you stared him down..

"Unzip your pants." You commanded, not even flinching when he started to cry in earnest. His hands fumbled with the buttons and his knees shook. You took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to calm your racing heart, and you felt something inside of you unravel. You knew, both of you wanted this. His actions spoke louder than any words he could say and so did your desires for revenge. This was his fault, you two were alone and in a tiny space, no one else was around to hear you .

You stepped back and allowed him his time. You closed your eyes and tried to think you heard him panting. He was nervous, that much you could tell, but there was also something underneath that. Want, maybe? You opened your eyes again, just as he pushed the hem over his thigh. His face shaping into relief as he saw the outline of your hips and lower abdomen as you removed your uniform, before the jeans fell to pool at his ankles. His hands still trembled, but his breathing became steady. A soft smile crept onto your lips. You walked back towards Leon and wrapped a hand around his throat. "As your superior I expect you to listen. Do you understand me?" He nodded frantically, gulping. You pressed harder onto his Adam's apple, causing him to nod even more violently until his eyes rolled into the back of his head. You lifted your hand from his throat, allowing him to swallow air again as you backed away. "Good boy, Leon." You cooed, patting him on the shoulder. He collapsed onto the floor on his knees.

"Please.." He grasped your thighs and looked up through hooded eyes, his hands gripping your legs tightly.

"Take them off..." You whispered. The look in his eyes told you that you had won the battle already. He got to work, he knew exactly what he needed to do in order to get what he wanted without breaking eye contact. He reached out a finger, trailing it along your waist, hooking it under the hemline of your pants, teasingly running it across the front. Your stomach clenched as his finger dragged downwards, pulling them over your hips, exposing yourself to him. He grinned and brought his lips close to your underwear, kissing the front of it softly.

His hands moved upward, his fingers brushing under your belly button. You shivered under his touch and pulled at his collar, desperate for an ounce of heat. You tugged at his hair, forcing his face closer. His nose grazed your stomach as he continued his journey upwards, nuzzling your navel, and then dropping down to remove your underwear, bringing it down to your knees. He knelt between your legs, his mouth now working against your skin, hot and moist. You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly. He looked up briefly to see your reaction and smiled triumphantly, before returning to his task.

You gasped when his tongue traced over your wet folds and you gasped, digging nails into his scalp. You were trembling, barely able to stand straight, barely able to move, barely able to breathe as he kissed you so sweetly down in between your legs. When you thought you couldn't bear it anymore you grabbed his face and pulled him up kissing him desperately, biting at his lips. It only took a moment for him to respond and soon you found yourselvss on the floor, sprawled out on the ground, tangled together, your panties tossed aside and Leon straddling you. He spread your legs, knees pressing to his shoulders.

"um.. are you... ready?.." Leon asked, his forehead against yours. Your heart pounded in response, your chest rising rapidly. "Sorry- I.. was gonna keep going.. I wanted to make you finish-" You stopped his apology by pushing him back and straddling his waist.

"Shut up." You ordered, grabbing his cheeks in either hand and pressing their foreheads together. His eyes shut tightly as you gently stroked his face. "Just.. relax for a minute.." He sighed, relaxing beneath you and opening his eyes as you two kissed, softly at first. After a few minutes, your kisses grew rougher. The two of you returned to your original position, with your lips hovering above his. "Now.." you said breathlessly. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. With your permission, he slid in, his length stretching you perfectly. His movements slow and methodical, but also sloppy. He was just as inexperienced in sex as he was in police work. You bit your lip hard to stop from laughing at how cute he was being, as he thrust into you. As if sensing your thoughts, Leon began to thrust faster, his hands gripping your hips tightly, slipping slightly with each movement.

"oh god-" He whimpered shakily , his pace increasing, sweat beginning to build on his brow as you held him tight. "am I... doing it right?" His voice sounded raspy and he was flushed pink. You laughed.

"Yes!" you breathed, smiling at him. "Are you okay? Is it too much? We can stop -" His hand rested over your lips.

"No, just... be quiet." You gritted out.

"I want you to feel good, okay?" His face contorted. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and stayed still for a while, panting and sweating as he continued to thrust in and out of you. You groaned, wrapping your arms around him, holding on tighter. You felt yourself reaching climax and you knew he was too, although he wasn't quite as vocal about his feelings. You moaned and squeezed his waist with your legs, arching your back, as Leon continued to thrust. His breath coming in short gasps as he grunted and tensed up every once and a while. And finally -

With a gasp, Leon released himself inside you and you shuddered. You leaned forward and kissed his temple, resting your chin on top of his messy hair, as he slowly regained his composure. Once you were both settled back down onto the floor, you relaxed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

Leon turned to look at you. "Officer-"

"Don't ever call me that again." You snapped at him. Leon blinked.

"...Right." He turned back and lay next to you, his eyes drifting shut before opening again.

"I'll get you dressed."

[adventuringblind]

Possessive

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."

Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.

Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,

Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration

Masterlist

Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.

He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.

"Should we help her?"

"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."

"But it would be so satisfying if we did."

"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."

The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"

Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.

The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.

"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.

Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.

"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.

Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."

There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."

The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.

Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.

She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.

The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.

The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.

So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.

Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.

"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.

"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."

"And if I proved you wrong?"

Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.

"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."

Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.

"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."

"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."

"Good. Then let's go find Lando."

Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.

"Lando? You alright love?"

"Doing what you're told is much less fun."

Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.

She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.

Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.

"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"

Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.

"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.

Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.

"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.

Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.

"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"

Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."

"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.

Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.

"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."

To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.

Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.

Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.

It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.

They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.

She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.

The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.

Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.

They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.

"That was eventful."

"No kidding."

"Sorry if I was to rough."

All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."

Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."

"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."

"I still can't believe you punched him."

Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."

"Remind me to never challenge you again."

[gnohomotho]

Run, If You Want to be Caught 「Pt. 1」♡☣♡

Pairing: Berlin x fem!reader Summary: What the fuck am I doing here-I am trying to honour the countless requests I got for Berlin! ˊᵕˋ ───♡───────────── The story builds slowly - you meet before the heist, you meet during it, and you get...close. He's incredibly good at pushing boundaries, and he enjoys you the more he gets to know you. Even if you don't know he's doing it half the time. You start as a hostage, and, well...you seem to have caught someone's interest. Someone who takes interest far, far too far. ───♡───────────── Other characters featured too. ───♡───────────── Your character is referred to as 'Manhattan', if you get the reason, you get a free fic of your choosing no questions asked. ―୨୧⋆ ˚ Warnings: This is part one, I intend to make it rather warm if not scolding, but MDNI 18+. Implied (ETHICAL, LEGAL, DOUBLE ETHICAL) age gap, mentions of death, guns, violence, bondage, touching, questionable consent. Physical contact. That "plan" of Berlin's includes zipties and gags, just saying ಇ. Control, stalking, threats, sexual themes and tension. Word count: 7.3k A/N: Lord have mercy on my doomed soul, this man, this man. ⚠︎♡ No, really, I put quite a bit into this but was really worried I'd mess up due to not having watched the series through, and I'm trying to keep the tension and the contact up while not being vulgar or cheap. Bit flooded right now, but I adore you readers so much - and had quite some fun with certain scenes. Hope you do too! ʚ♡ɞ ───♡───────────── No spoilers included and no spoilers, please, I am incredibly slow watching the series itself - if anyone is out of character please don't hesitate to shoot me. ───♡───────────── Also, Sartemy, here's a challenge - one fic without the f!reader being referred to by sweet diminutive nicknames out of a biology textbook. One. Lovely dividers by: @cafekitsune If you like my writing, requests, or just want to keep the blog afloat - I appreciate every like // reblog // follow // question // message! ♥ Link to next Masterlist ฅ^._.^ฅ ♡ Requests are OPEN ♡

You were just supposed to fill in for a friend.

That was it.

As you punched card after card and heard the machine beep in reply, you thought you'd manage a few more hours of this.

After all, you were just filling in for a friend.

Your mind wandered to earlier this week when you were leaving the campus.

❥❥❥

You sat on a bench with a coffee and something to eat and noticed arguing in barely hushed breaths.

You didn't listen, only threw a few more bites at the little dark jackdaws fighting for each crumb.

"You're impossible."

"And you didn't have to threaten them! Christ, what is wrong with you?!"

"Less than is right with you, keep your voice down."

"Or what, you'll threaten me too?"

"I don't need to threaten things that consistently fuck up. Calm down."

You tried not to listen.

You really did.

You tried not to look up.

You could discern one voice was faster, younger, and more pointed.

The other...slower. Older. More level but still, volatile right underneath the surface.

The larger bird was hopping around the smaller one, pretending to be done with its meal. Blue eyes pinned on the bread.

The voices got closer.

"Oh, now you're going to run to the Professor, tail between your legs? Was the big nasty man too mean to you?"

"No, you're a hot-headed hole in the ship's hull and you'll sink the entire bloody thing!"

The small bird tried to enjoy its meal but the larger one took it from its beak the moment its head looked up at the commotion.

You didn't look up.

"Alright, then learn to fucking swim you---"

Just as the voices got loud enough for you to thoroughly study each feather before you for sheer will to not appear to be listening, they stopped.

For a moment nothing but the scuttle of little talons and pecks accompanied your heartbeat. The dark birds were joined by a pair of dark shoes that turned your way.

"We shouldn't argue here."

No, you shouldn't, you really shouldn't, Mr. Sugar-on-hot-coals-voice, you think.

The voice seemed to calm down and coat itself in honey to slow down. The jackdaws looked up and resumed pecking. You threw another piece at them trying to pretend your heart wasn't beginning to race.

"In fact," the older voice said, "why don't you go get yourself something nice, let the dust settle, and I'll apologise for the ruckus."

You heard the smile in the voice, but there was an edge. Impatience coated in a resolute firmness to keep things in line. You hear a sigh and a pair of steps leaving you. But not the shoes invading your field of vision.

Silence.

It made your heart leap. But no, not today. You brushed your skirt and inhaled, steadying your own voice.

"OK, little ones, I think I have a lecture I should be at, have a nice one."

You begin to lift but the shoes close the distance.

One by one.

You finally look up, gripping the edges if the bench just a tad too tight.

Up along the fitted trousers, the strong hands, the neat blue fabric reflecting the afternoon light.

Up.

Calm down, calm down, calm down...

It hits you right between the eyes.

The tanned face of a man with dark hair combed back, dark eyebrows, eyes like coal trailing his gaze across and into you. He catches your look and holds.

A small Cheshire grin, polite eyes, and a well-polished suit stand before you – harsh hands in front of him firmly clasped as if he were simply resting on the heels of his shining shoes with not a care in the world.

As if you were the last one to hand in the assignment and you were about to get absolutely...

Oh, there was something in those eyes. Something that spoke of carnage left after the fire had burnt straight through. Coated in a sweetness that you were pretty sure neither of you believed in.

The blank blue eyes of the birds looked more honest than his, still, you looked down again, apologetically. You began to mutter.

"I was talking to the birds, I'm sorry. I'm leaving now," you explain and try another covert situation avoidance.

But he doesn't move.

You feel trapped, even as people walk by, and try to think to be polite about simply leaving. It shouldn't be so hard. It shouldn't.

He doesn't move away, but his body doesn't seem to be able to stay still. You see it in the sway on his heels, in the way his knees are perpetually shifting their weight.

You look up again, his head cocks to the side and that self-satisfied smile shines through for just a second, before returning to something vaguely polite.

His eyes smile into a gentler expression.

"I'm so sorry miss, I feel the need to apologise for the intrusion." He doesn't move as he shifts his eyes to the two birds running around his shoes looking for the bread he walked over.

You smile inadvertently and he continues.

"And for disturbing your companions."

He seems ardent at catching your eyes, a silent demand of 'look at me when I'm speaking to you', but he doesn't voice it. He's expecting you to play along.

You don't.

"It's alright, just...could you stop walking over their meal? Please?" You gesture to the birds and don't meet his eyes; his gaze is piercing you through and through.

Somehow, you feel more naked than you ever felt talking to a fully suited person. And somehow, those eyes narrowing into what should be a calming expression just feels like a ruse.

"Oh," he whispers in sudden genuine surprise, stepping back from you and you exhale, not realising you played quite a good hand yourself here...his voice is still polite, but there is effort now. And something genuine you can't put your finger on.

"Once more – my apologies. You seem to care a great deal about the little ones."

You nod and finally look up again, now that there is some distance. What is it with suited people and shiny shoes that sends you so far off the cliff?

His eyes didn't change. They're pinned on you, studying you. Each time he discovers something seemingly new, you notice a small movement – not quite a tick, just a slight change of rhythm. His smile is smaller, still there. It slides into one corner of his mouth, as if biting back a particularly sharp jab. His hands are no longer clasped at his midsection, he's began fishing in his pocket.

You watch every move, trying not to look nervous as you tuck a strand of hair away from your eyes. It falls right back.

As he takes out a packet of cigarettes, sliding one into his mouth in a single motion and lighting it, never taking his eyes off you, you sense the same disquiet the smaller bird did as it hopped a distance away. The big one is nowhere to be seen.

The man pulls on the cigarette slowly and you avoid his eyes.

"Would you like to tell me your name, little one?"

You begin to stutter and gather your things to leave immediately, cheeks the colour of roses.

"Th--that's incredibly--"

The soft chuckle didn't escape your senses and you once more look up to tell him something not as polite.

"Oh, I'm so sorry miss, " he smiles into the smoke leaving his lips, fingers softly cradling the cigarette as he gazes down at you. He bends his knees, slowly closing the distance between you and finds your eyes. His voice is kind, soft, and almost patronising in its innocence now:

"I was talking to the bird."

Before you can answer and before the blush goes down, he simply leans on his heels and rests closer to the scene before him, taking another drag – careful not to cover your little companion in smoke.

"Look at you, pretty little thing, aren't you..." he rests his cheek in his free hand, head at the level of your knees, "such a sweet little dear unable to see what's right in front of you."

The bird cocked its head to the side, one blue eye watching the intrusion before it hopped between your ankles, either expecting bread or shelter, but the stranger didn't move.

Only smiled into his cigarette, a chuckle like honey off hot coals reverberating quietly. His eyes never leaving your feet.

"What a pretty little thing you are, running for refuge right into a larger beak."

You finally manage to speak.

"It's going to be alright, sir, just a bit shy. Jackdaws are terribly brave and equally as hot-headed. But not dumb. You're just scaring them a tad. The larger bird won't hurt it."

You smile the sweetest of smiles, not playing his tune, perhaps if you pretend to be dumb, he will lose interest and leave you alone. It worked for the birds.

But he leaves the birds and raises his eyebrows at you.

"Perhaps they're more clever than I thought, who wouldn't hide between..."

Suddenly, he gets up again in a quick, sharp movement as you hear steps coming closer. Steps and a voice from before.

"Please tell me you didn't."

Silence. The older man purses his lips and looks around nonchalantly.

"I didn't."

A young man with long brown hair and sharp features looks from him to you, and you must have looked a sight, because his voice is once more angry and his demeanour pointed.

"You apologised?" He extends an open-palmed hand at you, "you apologised and this happens?!"

"Rude," you mutter under your breath and get up to leave.

A hand in the air stops you without touching you.

"I did. We discussed birds. She's quite a lovely young lady who cares quite a bit. Top of her class, too. Or so I’ve heard. Hmm?"

Alright, who poured ice down your neck.

"No."

The young man looks at you again, then back to him.

"NO."

"I'm just saying, we could use a mediator..."

"We're leaving. I'm sorry miss. I'm so sorry." The young man turns on his heel, the older man left to gaze at his back.

He brushes his pockets and bends down to you.

"Lovely to meet you, miss Jackdaw. Sorry for the intrusion." He smiles, but there's no warmth to discern in there. He smiles at you like he knows you. Like he knows the next steps you will take, the next bird you'll feed, and the next time you will inadvertently meet.

"What's your name?" You ask, trying to level his eyes with yours, voice steady. You don't like the fact that he seems to either lie about knowing something about you or actually know a tad too much about you. You need ammunition.

The man widens his close-lipped smile.

"Call me Berlin."

"Really?"

"Mhhm. And what's your name, little miss Jackdaw?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. Oh. He knew what he was doing. He knew it the entire time.

You try to keep a polite smile, not letting him get an inch in just yet. But your brain is a scramble.

"Manhattan."

He chuckles to himself more than to you, and gets ready to leave.

As he's walking away from you, he stops, taking one more drag seemingly lost in thought.

He looks back at you, and finally, you see a person behind those eyes.

And you freeze and burn all at once, understanding the birds running for shelter immediately.

"Clever," he hums into the air and begins to walk away.

❥❥❥

You were just supposed to fill in for a friend.

And now you're blindfolded.

And terrified.

And God knows you're going to kill her if you get out alive. Double kill her if you don't.

Stuck right next to a person who won't shut the god damn hell up. And now there are heavy footsteps marching towards you.

No no no no no.

"Excuse me...?" You hear the shaky male voice next to you, and it takes everything in you not to elbow the presence in where you expect his ribs to be.

"Yes, my director friend?"

That voice...

Oh no.

Oh no no no, you're imagining this, you're imagining this, you're imagining thi--

The shoes stop right in front of you.

For a moment, all that you can hear is your heart in your ears and your breath until a deep voice breaks the silence.

"Oh my."

A quiet, deep laughter emanates before you.

"My oh my oh my."

You try not to flinch as you feel a hand, rough, but not harsh, grip your chin and force you to look up.

It studies you. Brushes your chin and jaw without making it feel rude nor beckoning. Simply for a better look. Function. With a hint of amusement.

Control, you note.

For a moment, there is only silence.

Silence and your beating heart.

Then the chuckle resumes but cuts off, just as the hand leaves your face in one sharp stroke away.

"My dear little Manhattan, how did you manage to fly all the way over here?"

"Err...what?!" The confused voice next to you mumbles, but the steps are already walking away. Getting faster and more pronounced as they dull into the distance.

"Fuck," you whisper, shaking in your shoes. Cheeks red and chest shaking, unable to take a deeper breath.

"You know him?" A shoulder bumps into you and you feel the hot breath positively dampening your neck.

"No!" You hush back, "I don't! Be quiet."

"Are you one of them?" He doesn't shut up.

"No!" You hiss back, "Christ, be quiet!"

"That’s enough!" A younger female voice echoes from above. And you rest on your heels and stay still. Still as the eye of a bird.

Heavy steps resume and you finally get divided into groups.

❥❥❥

As you are able to discern faces now, you think perhaps you imagined the whole thing. The larger gentleman won't stop looking at you. Eyes like that of a lizard. Always darting.

You try to talk to some girls around you, just to make sure you're not all alone here.

But none of you have a clue what's going on.

You don't know whether to keep to yourself or join group for protection, but the matter gets decided for you.

You get divided into further groups, blindfolds on once more as you're guided to your stations. Only, a bit late, you realise you're being separated and led upstairs. A door closes behind you and hands grip each of your shoulders, pushing you forward. No touch without objective. Simple mechanics. Different than the hands you remember, and hate yourself for the realisation.

His hands are now familiar to you.

You think to explain, bargain, barter, but keep your mouth firmly shut.

Your blindfold gets taken off slowly and you're left looking at a young man, the same young man you remember from the park. He looks stern, but apologetic, until you notice the gun on his shoulder in sharp contrast to his red jumpsuit.

"Err...thought we'd keep the continents together." He says, as if nothing was too out of the ordinary, "just be here and watch over some screens for me. I'll explain later. OK? I promise this wasn't planned but we did discuss a need for a mediating presence if things go belly up. Is that alright...? I mean, shit, I meant...look, just do your job and shout at me if something looks weird."

You don't quite know how to absorb any of this and only look at the screens around you. Cameras, rooms, people, all of it before you.

"Continents...together?" You hush out finally, looking directly into the sharp face with hair in a firm bun.

He tries to smile, but it gets stuck and he grips the gun.

"Denver. Manhattan. I think they're kinda close."

You begin to smile as you lean across a desk, gripping its edges, the smile growing into a desperate laugh.

"I'm such an idiot," you breathe, "why don't you just shoot me? Why have me of all people watch over other people? I couldn’t tell you a single in-group out-group factor if I tried. I nearly got kicked out of my last exam because I was trying to be nice to people! My supervisor said my voice puts people to sleep! I can’t help you!"

"Huh?"

His genuine confusion, the scene, the fact that it all seemed like a bad misunderstanding just a week ago...it broke something in you. Your smile breaks too.

"Sorry, I just can't seem to stop fucking up. There. The park. Now this." Your voice cracks into tears, finally able to fall for sheer blind hopelessness.

"Hey, you didn't fuck up, not yet...he did, and it wasn't planned, I promise. I should have pushed him into the pond when I had the chance." The hint of softness gets to you further.

"But now, just watch those screens and shout for me if anything seems weird. I'm right here or around the corner. Oh. And you're being watched. Don't try anything funny, ok?"

You only give him a tired look and nod. The camera above you, you notice, keeps steady. A red light blinks at you.

One thing you notice on the screens that makes you calmer is the fact that you can see him. You can see him, so he's not anywhere near you.

"Denver?" Your own voice feels foreign in your throat.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you being kind to me?"

The question seems to have stopped him in his large shoes and you see his face visibly try to gain a stoic, uncaring expression.

"Some of us were taught manners," he shrugs, voice level. "And I thought I'd undo some of the damage Berlin--"

You visibly wince before he continues,

"Some of the damage you've had on top of this whole thing."

"Thank you, Denver." You try to smile. "That's very kind."

❥❥❥

You weren't sure what the deal was, what was going on, and why you weren't with the others. It was explained to you, over the next few days, that you are to simply watch and document, notice, write down, evaluate, and discern – keep files, try to predict, note everything. Be on call if something goes awry.

But it felt odd. You weren't special, that much you knew. You weren't treated like one of either sides – just somehow something that's barely not not-in-the-way. You didn't even have a jumpsuit.

Which would have been very handy since you managed to spill tea on your sleeve and burn your hand the first morning here.

Another thing that kept you alert was the camera. Each time you walked around the room, left the station, or simply rummaged through draws; the camera moved. Perhaps you were imagining it, but every time you walked by a reflective surface, the screens slightly buzzed. Just a flicker of movement in a corner monitor.

Once, you were pacing the room, and you felt slight panic rising in your chest – panic of missed lectures, friends, worried loved ones – and you undid your shirt. Just enough for your throat to be visible, which you held instinctively to shield the beating vein and to feel you’re still alive. Still breathing.

The screen behind you went black for just a moment, but you could have imagined that. Surely. It made no sense otherwise.

But you tried to reason. To turn bad things into bearable.

You liked the static. It felt calm. You liked the dark. It felt safe. You preferred the ground, less cameras and more field of your vision should someone come in.

But you didn't like the little red light all night, you didn't like the fact that each time you looked at the screen, he was there. And if he were near the camera, he'd look into it. Then go back to talking to someone else or simply back to his duties. But sometimes, he’d linger closer to it. Look up. And your breath caught again. Looking like he knew. But he couldn't. He couldn't. You’re being paranoid.

Until...

It was dusk. Your intercom had been eerily silent the last couple of hours, so you slowly slid to the floor and your makeshift bed made of clothes and some couch cushions you found, and slid under the table for extra privacy. As you waited and got not reply nor discontent, you began to take off your shirt and skirt. Just as you were going to unhook your bra, a voice sounded through the intercom and froze you in your tracks. You peaked out just enough to remain decent and quickly checked every screen – still dark, no commotion.

No him.

Silence.

Then Berlin’s voice sounded through the crackle. Soft, as it was with the birds, trying not to startle yet...

“Little Jackdaw...” you hear him murmur in the crackle of static. “Are you still awake?”

You do not respond. Merely go back under the desk and rest your back against its confines. The silence stretches but is anything but empty.

“I was wrong about you,” he muses.

You don’t reply, but huddle your knees closer.

“...I was wrong about the birds. You didn’t find your way here and they did know what they were doing. Hiding from me. Running to you. You must have known exactly what you’re flying into and still did not...skitter away. Little Jackdaw, little Jackdaw...is it true you sleep with one eye open?”

You breathe into the silence, your own voice feeling like trespassing. But still, you speak into the darkness.

“I didn’t want to come here. It was all a mistake. All of it. Unless you have something pressing, leave me alone, please.” Softer, far softer, you add: “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

His voice replies, faintly amused. But not bored.

“No one ever does.”

You exhale slowly, ever so slowly and feel...both more alone and oddly comforted – perhaps he wasn’t wearing a mask, perhaps he was being genuine. Perhaps he also had trouble sleeping. You immediately slapped the thought out of your head, knowing your mind is likely trying to grab onto anything to ground itself and find safety. But still, your voice is soft, your demeanour gentle.

“Berlin?”

Silence.

You half sleepily, half still caught in that calm oddness the conversation brought with the dusk, muse back at him.

“I feel like I’m playing a plywood violin each time you make yourself known.”

“Does feeling me threaten to break your strings, little one?”

You let the silence speak to his mistake.

"Or perhaps you wonder whether you'll bend or break for a tune that won't linger."

At least he didn't make the reference you thought he would at this hour and in what still counts as privacy.

But he does say one more thing that loops another little opening in your armour and stabs.

“One thing I have to give your critiques, Manhattan.”

The static chuckles with his quiet contentment.

“Your voice really does put me to sleep.”

You don’t know whether it’s a compliment or a very sharp jab, but you do not reply, and the intercom remains silent for the rest of the night. The realisation hit you in the morning – he’s listening even now.

And he’s...taking note.

❥❥❥

Another day, Denver was helping you learn the last of the ropes regarding your position. And you saw Berlin speak to someone off camera. Though you were listening, taking note, writing things down – your eyes strayed.

Just to make sure.

Just to be safe.

The angle, the lighting, it was too coincidental. And he turned slightly. Not looking at the camera, not looking at you. Just shifting, and his body language...it stilled.

“You really shouldn’t look at him like that,” you hear Denver behind you, “he’s not a big fan of being seen while not controlling the gaze.”

You inhale and apologise, only to yourself muttering that perhaps he shouldn’t have done what he did in the park – and then what he did while you were blindfolded – but you kept the night conversation to yourself.

“Perhaps he shouldn’t have stared like a wolf in a freshly cut suit, but I understand and won’t do it again. Sorry.”

As Denver was leaning next to you, half watching the screens and half watching your meticulous notes, he raised his brows in understanding and looked directly at you. No malice, not quite warmth. Just information and something you couldn’t quite understand just yet. Then he winced.

“He remembered you, Manhattan. That’s not a good thing. Berlin remembering someone is...kinda like corrosion deciding it wants your tools. Yours specifically.”

He said nothing more and you only flickered an eye to the screen, just to make sure he’s still in place.

Berlin smiled. Not at the person beside him.

At the camera.

❥❥❥

One of the female people in charge walked you down a hallway, guarded by each side, when a man walking in the opposite direction bumped into you.

You lost your balance momentarily and straightened, almost doing the exact same to the next person walking right behind him. You avoided the red suit only to look up and freeze even as you laid foot after foot.

"Clever girl."

The whisper echoed behind you, and you turned on instinct, never stopping. The man who bumped into you disappeared from your field of vision as he grabbed his shoulder and led him into a sharp turn.

You kept walking.

You found yourself in a room that looked far more intricate than your station. Maps, plans, all laid out.

They're either fine with killing you or they trust you, and you weren't sure you liked either option.

You tried to focus on the women present, and tried to find Denver, but he was talking to an older man. In another life, you’d find it quite endearing. They barely lifted their eyes as you got in, and the red-suited woman nudged you forward.

"Why isn't she in uniform?" The woman chewing gum asked, arms crossed, measuring you up and down. You wanted to wince. But didn’t. Only bowed your head slightly.

"Where the hell is Berlin? He called this whole thing." The younger man who you only just noticed huddled at a laptop asked no one in particular and went back to his screen.

"I'm sorry, I...didn't get a chance to change, no uniform, I didn't want to ask, sorry--"

"It's not on you, Manhattan," the woman chewing stopped and sighed. "Berlin said he'd take care of it. Where is he?"

Denver looked at the screen of the younger man and raised his eyebrows.

You don't react, but try to help: raising your arm everso slightly as if asking for permission to speak, you level your voice.

"I...saw him walking past us in the hallway and take a sharp turn right, if that's any use. He was leading someone else by the shoulder."

Denver exchanged a look with the older man, and the young woman who led you here gripped her gun and left without a word. Denver looks up at you, likely realising you're terrified.

"Manhattan, those folders of yours are proving useful."

More matter of factly, he adds: "We have a situation downstairs that's getting out of hand. Be ready. But so far, nine times out of ten, those evaluations and strategies seem to work at keeping people calm and covering our bases. Almost."

"Almost?" You speak up. The older man looks at you, studying you before speaking. Wary, but warm.

"Your notes on Group 3 were a bit shifty, half the reason for the situation. Name’s Moscow, by the way."

You smile and offer a handshake. The firmness of his calms you down a tad. But the softness is short lived, as the young man at the laptop shifts.

"What is she even doing here?" He gazes into the and monitor sighs, "she's not part of this, she's a hostage. What's she gonna do, fling some ink from the printers around and ask us to analyse a blot? Analyse how screwed up each of us are since we're all here?"

"Leave it alone, Rio," the man who introduced himself as ‘Moscow’ says, "it's alright."

He looks up at you and continues, slightly softer. "the man was unpredictable and pulled something again. Hard to expect. Feigned a situation, hurt another hostage, turns out it was a ruse. Well, the other two hostages pulled into it didn't know, and now they're not speaking or eating or reacting to anything but a gun in the face. Which we do not condone."

You look towards him, settling on remaining quiet but to the point.

"Which one was it, sir?"

You raise your brow, now intrigued and disappointed in yourself. You thought you had everyone covered. Every nook and cranny taken care of. Group 3 was volatile, but you thought they wouldn’t go through with it. Enough buffers to absorb the explosion. Obviously, you were wrong.

Before Moscow can answer, footsteps and a sharp push forward present the last two people missing. The young woman, who did the pushing. And Berlin, hair dishevelled and a blank look in his eyes to accompany a rather neutral frown.

As he notices you, he looks into your eyes and a smile lifts his cheeks, though he appears colder the harder he gazes, and looks away nonchalantly as if you weren't even there as soon as you register him back. You see him lift a hand to push through his hair and comb it back; you look straight back at your shoes.

"Finally, where the hell were---is that blood?" The woman with the cat eyes and gum stopped chewing, motioning at Berlin's arm. You follow her manicured fingers. She was right. His knuckles were blue and speckled with red, purple between the bones. He clenches and undoes his fist, as if theatrically studying it for the first time.

"Just a situation." He blinks at each face except yours. "All good."

“We talked about your ‘situations’, Berlin. You’re supposed to be in control. Isn’t that like your whole thing? I swear if you hurt another hostage...”

You never thought you’d hear a man growl, but that’s what came out of Berlin’s throat. Low, annoyed, clearly offended – but eerily level.

“I only taught someone some manners regarding what they can and cannot touch. Now, if we’re done with the schoolboy scolding, have you told her yet?”

The woman chewing gum shakes her head and looks away. Moscow sighs, Denver rubs his temples, the young man addressed as ‘Rio’ finally stops staring into the screen and leans back in his chair with a vaguely smug look, and the young woman behind Berlin looks directly at you with not an emotion in sight. Before she can speak, a self-satisfied chuckle tumbles out of Berlin’s throat.

He walks toward you slowly and begins to lift an arm to your shoulder, but you flinch in the direction of the older man and Denver. He doesn’t seem to notice at first, and if he did, he ignored it. This time. His dark eyes find yours and stare into you, head craning from one side to the other to leave no room for avoidance.

“Perfect. Then I'll do the honours. Well, Manhattan, we need you on the inside.”

“No one will trust me,” you unnoticeably shift away from him so his arm is resting on air more than you, and he notices. Oh, that small tick and tiny head motion from side to side, like a disappointed parent watching a child run into traffic. He rescinds his touch entirely, blinking slowly into the distance behind you with that small, ever-present smile in the corner of his mouth that looks like it feeds on tension and contentment all at once. Only now, it's turned into a rather disapproving mask.

“No one will trust me,” you repeat, “I don’t have a uniform, I haven’t been in any group, and I’m an outsider to them. There’s no way in hell they’ll say a word if I walk in.”

The cat-eyed woman purses her lips and nods, Denver keeps his hand on his chin, and Berlin somehow looks more smug than before. Moscow clears his throat.

“Yeah, about that. Nairobi, can you handle it? I need to speak with Berlin on some security matters.”

He looks directly at the man next to you.

“Outside.”

❥❥❥

“Please no. I understand, it’s a good idea, but please let me say this without any judgement.”

Nairobi sighs.

“Go on.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Look, lady, I get it. I really do. But there’s no other way right now and like it or not, he’s still in charge.” She looks to her side, arms crossed. “Emphasis on ‘not’.”

“I’m grateful for being treated the way I am, I understand it’s not easy---”

“Please save the holier-than-thou attitude, Manhattan, I’m not your client.”

She looks at you, judgement seeping from her posture before continuing:

“The others have assigned groups, Oslo and Helsinki need to be underground, Moscow wouldn’t be able to handle the commotion if more people turned up, Rio’s in charge of every electronic device in here, Denver – though I see you making eyes at him – doesn’t feel up to it alone either and doesn’t need any more violence today, thanks to you, and Tokyo and I need to be elsewhere and actually do our jobs.”

The gum pops in emphasis.

You stop and your mouth doesn’t utter another word, though you wish to protest at least three statements in that sentence.

Only a small bow and a ‘sorry’ as you nod in acceptance. She looks you over again and her shoulders visibly fall as she relaxes and sighs, leaning against the railing.

“No, I’m...look, he’s been acting weird. If you ask me, something’s bothering him and he’s like a child who can’t find the last puzzle piece that ruins everyone’s day until he does.” She leans into you, gaze still sharp, but not angry.

“Let him have his puzzle piece, his little plan, all works out, he leaves you alone. Boom. Jackpot.”

You’re not sure you agree with any of that, but feel you have no choice.

“Will the cameras be on at least?” You ask, weary. Nairobi nods and blows a bubble.

You feel the sound of it bursting coincide with your sense of hope.

❥❥❥

This was the most idiotic plan you could imagine.

But it made sense.

That was the worst part.

So far, you thought you'd enjoy the calm before the storm. You made more notes, added new information and rewrote Group 3. As you were writing down strategies to employ to help the two shocked hostages - one boy and one girl - the door clicked open.

"Denver?"

You didn't look up. Blind hope got you this far, you weren't letting anyone pry it out of your cold dead hands.

No reply, only steps closer.

A weight on the back of your chair which creaked in response.

You wince, exhale softly as if worried to disturb the air, and stop writing. You check the cameras one by one, darting, hoping you'd see Berlin in one of them. The sound of leather squeezed far too hard for comfort replied for you.

"Try again," the whisper to your right beckoned, and you turned sharply in the other direction.

"P...please excuse me. You. Scared me."

"Perhaps try not lying to me, Manhattan. Lie to yourself if you must. But not to me."

"I'm not...I'm not lying to you. Sir. I don't know what you're talking about." But your voice betrayed you more than your grip on the pen that shook your fingers.

And the hand suddenly everso slightly touching your hair was enough to make you gasp.

Berlin chuckled and pulled away.

"You've neglected yourself, little Jackdaw...let me help you get it out of your face."

"I'm good, Berlin, sir."

He chuckled again and rested his weight on the back of your chair. You must be imagining the faint whisper back, mostly to himself - tasting the word. Sir.

"Oh, I know you are. But you seem to have some trouble looking at me. Still blindfolded in that little head of yours?"

"I'm good. Berlin. Sorry. I. Didn't mean to be so..."

He almost sounded like he didn't hear you and the cold nonchalance in his voice sent shivers down your spine.

A single finger helped brush a strand of hair off your collarbone and onto your back, neatly, carefully, never straying.

"Tell me to stop."

He leans into you; you can feel his breath on your ear but still - he doesn't touch you directly. Your heart is in your throat.

"Do you know what I'd do if you asked me to stop?"

You hear him smile as the sentence concludes, and you squeeze your knuckles on thin air. Your heart is now pounding out of your chest, and you try desperately not to look at the screen in front of you because his reflection would drive you off a cliff.

But you don't reply. Only swallow hard.

"I'd stop," he states, pulling away as if he commented on the weather and nothing more.

"But I'd never forget that you wanted to say 'yes'."

As if mulling over the thought while you're left paralysed and shivering, not looking at him, not responding, the coolness returns to his voice. But there's a hint of enjoyment in it now. Like he managed to pry open a door just enough to get a finger in.

"Put it this way, Manhattan...if you don't turn around, I'll make sure you're suited up one way or another. Which will it be, little Jackdaw?"

You exhale and push the pen away.

And you do turn around. Slowly, in your chair. You turn around and your eyes get snatched by that stern, ever watchful face, fully controlled but for the smile constantly tugging at his mouth. Self-satisfied. Lethal. And so, so false.

A bob of the head and an expression that seems to say 'there, was it so hard?' to which you'd gladly reply positively.

He's bending above you, fully shielding, resting on the back of your chair with one hand gripping its leather, the other at his side holding a red bundle.

"Go on. Take a good look. You're allowed."

"I'm..."

"Good," he finishes the sentence for you and turns his eyes into momentary coinslots, almost mocking you.

"Though I'm starting to doubt that."

You look at the camera above you. Somehow, its red light is now the most reassuring presence in the room.

He follows your gaze.

"You talk in your sleep, Manhattan."

You don't reply.

"Quite the conversation. Do you know what you said when I responded?"

You shake your head and hypnotize your notes again, seeing the same letter for the fourth time.

"Yes, little Jackdaw. You said 'yes'."

"To what?" You can't bear the tension and almost snap. Berlin merely drops the bundle in your lap, still smiling to himself.

"Get dressed."

❥❥❥

At least he left the room for you to do so. Though you struggled with the zipper with your shaking fingers, the question plaguing your mind.

What had you agreed to in your sleep?

Could he see you, if he could hear you?

As you pulled it up and gathered your hair out of your collar, you gazed at the room again. And fear began to creep up on you, even as it should have been calming to be alone again.

What if the plan goes wrong? What if you...mess up? What if they do? What if you get hurt? He won't protect you...you're an asset, not cared for.

You're an asset.

Not cared for.

With resolution and coolness in your voice, you address the room.

"Clear."

You don't say "decent" because you don't want him to latch onto anything you're saying and use it as ammunition. Berlin seems too good at that.

The door clicks open, and Berlin walks back in, two strides to be right in front of you. Measuring you up and down.

"Good, Manhattan. You did good."

As if wondering whether to tease you or remain stoic, he brings up his arm again - the same gesture you avoided in the more crowded room. This time, you don't flinch. You won't give him the satisfaction. Only nod - giving permission.

Still in control.

His hand brushes your collar and softly tugs at the top of the jumpsuit.

"You look better this way, Manhattan. Out of uniform."

You see it in the way his face is more...animated now, and this time he isn't trying to catch your gaze. As if lost in thought. His finger gets a bit too close and his knuckle brushes that tender spot on your throat you were holding the last time you felt so paranoid.

You inhale sharply, but he doesn't pull away. The cheshire grin growing more serious seems to repeat his sentence:

Tell me to stop.

And you don't.

He caresses it, softly, up and down, as if worried he'll disturb the precious thing. His knuckle guides up to your chin and lifts your head up to his.

"I'm almost sorry for what I'll have to do to you, little Jackdaw."

His lips curl.

"Almost."

You exhale.

No, you're not.

You came up with this.

You're going to enjoy it.

And I hate you for it. And I hate myself for not wanting to say...stop.

But he seems to feed on that. On planning ahead, being in control, making people submit without knowing they did so - teetering on the edge and only noticing air grow fast around their face once they're about to hit the bottom.

It takes every muscle from your shoulders to your neck to keep calm, to not look into those eyes, to not give into your actual feelings that are spurred by fear and desperation and...need.

The jumpsuit feels suffocating.

Break for a tune that won't linger.

With sincere tenderness and genuine worry, you instead simply ask:

"Is Denver alright?"

And you might as well have slapped Berlin across his smooth face.

Without changing his expression, he mouths the sentence back to you, as if in disbelief that you'd ever even think of asking.

“Is…”

He steps into you, you step back.

“Denver…”

He forces his other leg into your space; your thigh hits the table.

“Alright…?”

You instinctively try to grab the edge, but he grabs your wrist first and pushes your hand down. Before you can retract it, he grabs your other wrist and pins it to the table.

And as he leans into you, to your side, lips almost touching your ear, you feel him.

His chest.

His leg.

His breath.

Even his heartbeat through his neck.

And they're all.

So.

Steady.

He's not losing control.

Now you've got a reason to be terrified.

"My little Jackdaw," he whispers to you, as if reading you a fairytale, "do you really think it wise to tease someone who is going to have you tied up at his mercy for the better part of the night, while knowing every little corner of this room that the cameras don't reach?"

Berlin pulls away and leans into you directly now, so close your foreheads could touch.

"Or was it on purpose, because that's what you want?"

He cranes his head to one side, exaggerating his words while his expressions remain frozen. You remember the same instinct that made you wince, that made you see what the birds did when they ran for shelter to you.

"To be broken, taken, bent and tried - so you don't have to witness your own carnage...To lose control. Silly, silly, silly Jackdaw."

He gazes at your neck, throat, quivering lips as if pondering to himself – and only smirks as he straightens your collar again, brushing a strand of hair away from your neck.

Berlin’s fingers twitch and make contact with your skin again.

"Because once you give it to me, I won't be able to stop."

❥❥❥