#going to bed now but if people send in more i might answer them after work tomorrow

[rookflower]

🌈

🌈 : what's the most 2010s wcforum era esque fandom opinion you still hold onto and will fight people over (things like scourges collar color, dovewings eye color, etc)

gotta be honest lads i was not there in the 2010s wcforums and can't think of anything i would go to war over rn, but here's my take on those specific discourses and some other superficial opinions i have on purely aesthetic details about characters, since i think purely aesthetic details are the most trivial topics you can be weirdly opinionated about

scourge's collar is purple by default but can also be some sort of funny novelty collar or a pride flag or some shit

dovewing's eyes are green by default but anything else is fun and allowed

short squirrelstar gang

longtail is yellow or cream, maybe a pale brown at a stretch, end of discussion

ravenpaw's eyes are not green i don't care what canon says. purple or gold.

cinderpelt cannot be both short-furred and skinny to me. she has to be fluffy or fat or buff or any combination of those things, or even just kinda neutrally cat shaped even. the law

flipclaw is a tiny little guy and he takes after his mum, ivypool, who is also a wee scrawny thing.

i do not give a shit about the crime or whatever of people making characters who are not torties torties i think it's cool as hell, especially if the design still reads clearly as the original character despite that divergence. same goes for swapped around eye colours, or any other changes.

[roturo]

⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ WATCH IT!

Gojo Satoru didn't predicted this move... So he ended up fucking you lol ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ G!Satoru x afab!reader and sex pollen!

tags: smut, sex pollen, unprocteted sex (wrap it and pee after sex), overstimulation (like A LOT), use of nicknames (princess, baby, good boy, love...) multiple rounds, praise kink, angst if you squint your eyes till you cry like gojo, sub(ish)!gojo satoru, god complex, fluff if you take one eye out, crack, belly bulgde, creampie, breeding kink, crempie kink, A LOT of cum, dumbfication, cock warming, npr.

A/N: happy holidays! might be my last writing of the year so i wish you lots of love and happiness <3 i might write pt2 for this one and 'she's back', which one would you like first?

o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

DAY 1: HOW IT STARTED

How the fuck at his grown ass age Gojo Satoru could be this stupid. And that’s big coming from him, because this man considers himself the senior of seniors and god of gods. So, how come he falled into this?

And you know what? Maybe it is his fault! For believing he’s a superior and underestimating such a weak and useless curse he just killed. But, this weak and useless curse has him going crazy. That really was karma paying back to him because motherfucker- Why is he feeling all giddy and hot all of sudden? This has never happened to him before, so that’s why he’s losing his mind right now and almost sprinting into his room because of how bothered he was feeling to just teleport. 

Everything was like hell. Really, like hot as hell. And how does Satoru know that? Uh well, because he’s living it right now.

He couldn’t bear the sensation anymore and dialogue Shoko’s number like it was a habit.

“What do you want, Gojo? I’m in the middle of trying to know how Yuuji’s body is capable of being Sukuna’s vessel. Like- It’s quite important right now, and more than debating about some of your dumb tv shows you-”

Shoko’s voice was interrupted by a whine coming from Gojo’s line, seconds of silence continued the awkward moment between the both of them, while all Gojo could do was breathe and maintain his whines inside of his body before he started literally moaning.

“Are you okay, Gojo?...”

“Fuck, no. Some fucking curse sprayed me all over with some fucking stinky pollen. Didn’t even taste great, by the way. And now I'm just feeling really hot, sometimes dizzy… or kinda giddy? fuck. And my breathing became irregular. I’m fucking sprawled out in my bed trying to find a comfy position but my legs won’t cooperate.”

A loud laugh was heard coming from Shoko’s line. It was clear she’s been holding it all this time just trying to make sure she’s gettin it right.. and well. 

“Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you hard right now?”

Silence. 

“You know what? I’m sending Y/N over there with some medicine. You’ve been sprayed with sex pollen by the way.”

Sex- what?! 

Before he couldn’t even ask Shoko any question since she quickly hung up. Leaving a needy and confused (and hard) Gojo.

Knock. Knock. 

No answer, but a weird sounding moan? You gave yourself permission to enter Gojo’s room since no life signals were heard. But- holy fuck. Was this a reward or a punishment from the gods?

He was kneeled down on his bed, one of his hands used as a support placed in his bare calf while his other hand was as fast as possible jerking himself off. You stayed still some seconds before rewinding back to what Shoko told you before coming here.

“He might be another type… of… Gojo?... Anyways. He’ll be really needy and like a lost puppy looking for some salvation. I gave you this backpack with all you would need, yeah? Thank me later and good luck.”

So that’s why her flat ass was quickly sending you off with a backpack full of water bottles and snacks. Sex fucking pollen. Great.

It’s not like people don’t know that both of you have been crushing into each other lately, hell- even his newest student asked about this. But you never expected for it to be like this.

“G-Gojo…?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it’s like a hawk located his next prey because of how instant his reaction was just for your voice. A drunk smile on his face, while both of his hands fall infront of him trying to hide the act that was going on minutes ago. His sculptured white as snow body covered in a hot layer of sweat. Not being able to catch a breath thanks to this sight, somehow he’s in front of you. 

“Are you here to help me? Y/N?”

His voice sounded so different. But at the same time it was just Gojo.

A small nod was all the reaction he got. You could smell that sweaty smell, looking down you found yourself looking at a large wet spot staining his black briefs. While his cock does nothing to imagination, marking perfectly the shape of it. Moving your gaze to his v-line, a white happy trail proudly adorning it. Eyes moving up, you found yourself looking at his clearly erected nipples, But all this examination was over once he interrupted your thoughts.

“I need a verbal affirmation, princess”

Ah, the nicknames. If you weren’t wet by now, you’re pretty sure you’re leaking right now all because of him.

“Yes Satoru, I’ll help you.”

His knees felt weak. Literally. He kneeled down in front of you, it was like he hypnotized and somehow could smell through your body into emotions. His hands were cold but hot at the same time he roamed your body.

You tried warning him by calling his name while he started kissing the softness of your thighs, telling him to at least move you towards the bed. And his body was doing what you said like if you were controlling him, while his mind was somewhere else. He moved the both of you towards his bed, making you lie down. His head not wasting any second between your thighs until his nose touched where you needed him the most and you whimpered at the feeling. Clearly triggering a new kind of need inside Gojo.

Everything happened really fast. Between some kisses and moaning, Gojo ripped your shorts and pantoes a muffled noise coming out from him of what you suppose was “I’ll buy you new ones later” but right now you couldn’t care less.

Not when his tongue slowly started tracing the way from your entrance until it reached your core. Teasing it with kitten licks, while his hands remained on your hips from preventing moving them.

His tongue quickly found a rhythm between your entrance and your clit, forming infinite signs between them. And the simulation was too much you couldn’t notify Gojo about your orgasm- But he was so lost in the feeling of your thighs suffocating him and the taste of yourself in his lips, he swears he could die as a happy man right now.

And like it wasn’t enough, Gojo kept eating you out even after your intense orgasm. Overstimulation taking over your body, trying to take him off your core, ended up with annoyed groans coming out from him.

“Satoru, love, fuck. I need you to stop, please.”

The nickname had him exploding with happiness, he really looked like a puppy from this angle. His eyes looked ethereal, his mouth covered with your fluids and his face was with a cute smile while he called out your name.

“Will you please let me fuck you?”

A small giggle came out from your mouth, Gojo’s face looked a little sad and embarrassed, but was quickly erased when you pecked his lips. And that was all he needed to clumsily take off his briefs and while he climbed back to the bed, taking off your top while doing so. His eyes were full of adoration looking over your body, before he pressed his lips into yours, locking them for a long moment, clearly enjoying the moment, before the kiss turned more heated and he started kissing every part of your body again.

His tip was now wet thanks to your folds, Easily slipping through it. 

“Ffuck- Ssatoru- Be a good boy and put it in, please?”

Gojo needed no more words before thrusting his cock whole into you with one swift movement, hitting perfectly against that spongy spot that made you see stars. But something didn’t feel right. Not in a bad way. Since you re-opened your eyes to find a glassy eyed Satoru mumbling a lot of ´sorry’s´ while he kept thrusting.

Oh.

He came with just one thrust and was overstimulating himself, still rock hard with no break while he hid his face in the crook of your neck while marking it as his and tearing down from the pleasure. 

You’re pretty sure he came again, when he whimpered your name and moaned against your ear but still continued thrusting into you perfectly. And he was so lost in the pleasure of overstimulating himself he didn’t realize once he confessed to you.

“You’re so pretty- ffuck– I really want to make you mine now. So no one could look at you, not even in a friendly way. Just… have you all for me- sshit. I love you.”

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, thinking it was all because of the moment, so you just had to enjoy it for now. His thrusts were so  fast and hard, but somehow still felt romantic. Like this was a normal routine on a daily basis. And you would be disgusted by the pool of cum forming under the both of you if you weren’t so close to your third orgasm this night. No matter how many times you told Gojo to stop for a moment and take a break, he would cum again, and still be hard so he had to keep thrusting.

Your mind is lost now. All you could ever think about right now was Gojo Satoru and his immense cock. He wouldn’t stop mumbling praises to you, saying this was all for you to feel good and he would stop once you cum at least 3 times more than him. A hard dare to get over with. Or maybe it already happened?

You begged for mercy, not thinking he could get another orgasm out of you. Hell- to even get an orgasm out of him. His hands interweld into yours, and moved it down towards your tummy.

“Do you feel it, baby? I'm right here. Ahh~ I’m pretty sure my cum is there too heh. Your tummy is full of me and my cum.”

He sounded drunk. Like. Really drunk. But his words took off your last orgasm of the night, apparently your reaction making his trigger off and cum… dry?

How many fucking times did Gojo Satoru came inside you?

Will pills even prevent a pregnancy?

“Ah- shit baby.”

You couldn’t pay attention to him anymore, quickly slipping into dreamland. Gojo not once leaves your side. Literally. He was cock-warming, still hard, but no energy (and cum) to continue his misery.

You were here at 7.45 o’clock, one last look at the clock and it was 3.23 in the morning.

And it was like you just blinked, because a whimper came out of your mouth. Looking again into the clock, it was 10 AM, and Gojo was not over.

[desireangel]

Infernal Desires | Chapter 1 | Coriolanus Snow

Summary: as penance for your brother's sins, Coriolanus demands that you are sent to his household to work his debt. But Coriolanus does not expect to burn so strongly for you and finds himself addicted to having you as close as he can keep you.

Chapter 2

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: enemies to lovers, explicit reference to sex, hair pulling, talk of ownership (bc we all know coryo has a complex), swearing, this is shit low key, coryo is a little shit but you know of course he is :P

Author's Note: this is the result of my assignment procrastination and now I am posting it at 2:30AM :)) this hasn't been beta read and actually it might seem a little disjointed but pls lmk if you have feedback for me if I end up carrying on with this series? lots of love!!

It is a debt to be paid, that’s all it is. 

Easy enough for them to say. After all, it was you who suffered from the mistakes of your family and not them. They may as well have left you to the streets of the Districts with nothing more than a shattered dignity and the tears that trailed down your cheeks. 

Shit. Crying wasn’t going to do anything and while you never intended to present yourself as weak to anyone, there was nothing you could do to stop the angry tears that welled in your eyes. You wondered if your parents truly pained to see their daughter cry or if the tremble in your mother’s lip was nothing more than a pretence. 

Your father stared at the ground by your feet. “It wasn’t supposed to come to this.”

“But it did. Are you really going to sell me off to–”

“We aren’t selling you off. Stop saying that,” He snapped. “Maybe all you will have to do is dust a few shelves and brew a pot of tea every now and then. It cannot be that bad.”

The glare you sent his way was full of malice and rage. How could he say that? You were better than that, smarter than that and the thought of being reduced to who knows what that man had in store for you - they may as well have cut your tongue out and made you a slave. Knowing that your family, whom you loved endlessly, were so sure of bartering you away to a man like Coriolanus Snow caused a dull ache in your chest. 

It seemed hard to breathe through the betrayal, the air thick with deceit and heartbreak. Had you known what your father had been planning, you could have left and found a way to survive without the comfort of your family home. 

“What Coriolanus has offered has saved us,” Jericho stood leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at you, his little sister who would have died before leaving him to such a fate. “Just think about it! Would you rather him send our entire family to the fucking Districts or have us hanged? I fucked up. I know, and I’m sorry but this is the only option we have.”

There was a tense silence. Jericho had ruined everything with no chance of repair and it was you who had to pay the price. You knew what happened to rebel sympathisers and Jericho had damned the future of your family. What was happening in the Districts was wrong, you agreed with that but there was something inherently stupid about putting the people you cared about at risk just to send a few thousand dollars to some hopeless rebels. 

You blinked as you tried to make sense of it all. “Explain it to me. I don’t understand.”

“Coriolanus is not only my friend but he’s just become President,” Jericho said. “We made a deal. This is part of it. Pay off my mistakes with hard work and time. You have no clue how generous that is.”

Friend? Generous?  You would have laughed if you could. You briefly wondered what the other part of their deal was but didn’t focus on it for long. It would be of no use to ask a question you would get no answer to.

“All he wants is something to hold over your damn head, Jericho. Paying off your mistakes with my work? Making his bed and wiping his ass is not going to fix what you did. People have been executed for far less.”

Your father cleared his throat. “It’s our only option. We have no money and a ruined reputation. The family name holds the last of our power and without that little power we have left, your brother and I would lose our jobs. It’s a miracle we haven’t already.”

“Coriolanus wants to dangle you over our heads? Fine. If that’s what it takes for him to spare our lives.” Jericho’s voice was so rough. It was the first time he’d been anything other than gentle towards you and you felt a heaviness at the sight of him so distressed. 

There was not much left for you outside of the empty empire that your father’s father had built for your family. At least you still had each other and despite the situation they’ve forced you into at the end of the day, you all loved each other to death. It would have been a death sentence but you could have left instead, could have found a life for yourself somehow. But how could you live with yourself knowing that you’d damned those you love because of your pride?

So reluctantly and tearfully, you nod your head and silently agree. 

Coriolanus wondered whether he was making the right decision by giving Jericho a second chance. If it were anyone else, he’d have had them hung without a second thought. Hell, he’d even had Sejanus executed at the end of his time in District 12. But Jericho and his family were different. 

If there was one person in his life that Coriolanus could call a friend, it was Jericho. It wasn’t that Coriolanus trusted him, no. There was not a soul in this world that Coriolanus could truly trust, not even Jericho who had been by his side for the entirety of his life. It was a moment of weakness, an inexcusable lapse in his judgment to make that deal with him. 

But it was also a moment of selfishness and a decision made with nothing more than foolish curiosity. You had always been there, in the back of the picture and unnoticed by everyone apart from him. There was not a person in this world who infuriated him more than you and the two of you had spent years bickering and pestering one another. Charming, intelligent Coriolanus Snow who had the entirety of the Capitol wrapped around his finger had always been instinctively cruel to you. He was never your friend. While he had never actually done you wrong before now, you were never really fooled by his deceiving charm. 

Coriolanus was now twenty three but when it came to whatever distorted plot he was planning, he felt juvenile. You were the perfect leverage. Your brother and your father were the perfect pawns. As much as he convinced himself that having you in his possession would mean he would have invaluable power over Jericho to do exactly as he wanted within his twisted court, the idea of having you in the palm of his hand and under his control was exciting. 

He was never one for meaningless entertainment. But what was the harm in indulging himself this once?

You had changed since the last time he’d seen you. It had only been two years but he would never admit to his surprise at just how different you had become from the cowering little girl he remembered you to be. 

Coriolanus’ office was as big as your dining room back home but you felt claustrophobic under his gaze. His eyes were hellfire as he silently stared at you, leaning back in his chair and resting his fingers under his chin. There was little you could do but stare back at him, anxiously tapping your foot on the marbled floor.

Shakily, you broke the silence. “Why am I here, Coriolanus?”

“Your brother has committed a crime,” He drawled, fingers tapping on the rich mahogany desk in front of him. “That’s why you’re here.”

“You know what I mean, asshole.” You scowled at him. It wasn’t smart to talk to him in such a way, you knew that. He is President, after all. The memory of your brother’s warning to be careful flashed briefly in your mind. 

Eyes narrowed, Corialanus considered putting you in your place. He wouldn’t tolerate disrespect. Not from anyone let alone you. Instead, he somewhat answered your question. “You’re going to stay here. Do whatever the hell, doesn’t matter.”

In any other instance, Coriolanus would have detested the sight of you gaping at him, stumbling over your words as your wide eyes confidently held his own. You had changed. Or maybe he had just been blind to the perfect curves of your body or the way you looked at him, so submissive yet so stubborn. So tempting. 

He’d condemn himself before ever admitting to his thoughts. 

“What?”

If he were to be honest, Coriolanus didn’t entirely know himself. But he took pleasure in the way you seethed. “I’ll give you work. But I won’t let you back to that treasonous family of yours until I have what I want from them.”

You could hit him. If he weren’t the king of Panem, you would have. “You’re keeping me prisoner?”

“No,” he stood from the table and in two strides, he was in front of you. So close that you could smell his cologne mixing with the smell of laundry detergent on his clothes. You shuddered. “Maybe. Call it what you want. You can do what you want, eat what you want, wear what you want, you can visit home on the weekend. I don’t care. But when I give you a task, you will do it.”

Coriolanus’ eyes were an icy blue inferno as they held yours. The light hit his painfully perfect face so that it almost seemed as if he were shining. Struggling not to lose your breath, not to lean into him and feel him, you held your head high. “Fuck you.”

A gasp fell from your lips as Coriolanus’ hand found the back of your head in an instant, fingers weaving into your hair gently before closing into a tight fist and pulling back so that you were forced to look up at him. The tightness of his grip on your hair ached and left you dizzy, longing for his hands to find more of you with the same fervour. Suddenly, you were burning from head to toe, a fire setting on your skin as he held you roughly against him, so close that you felt the feather light tickle of his breath when he spoke. 

“Is that how you talk to your superior?” Coriolanus’ voice was low, dripping with a dominance that commanded respect. He was devastatingly beautiful. The curve of his nose, the strength in his jaw, the soft fall of his hair and the soft shine on his lips that you so badly yearned to feel. You cursed yourself for thinking such a thing. “This is my house. My country. You are here because I said so, because I own everything. Everything. Including you. You’d do well to remember your fucking place while you’re here, pretty thing.”

The fire in your blood was rage. It was anger, it had to be. Despite your better judgment, you whispered once again, “Fuck. You.”

His jaw ticked and with a strong yank, you were flush against him. The pounding of your heart was violent and you were sure he could feel it against his chest but you were stuck under his burning gaze. Coriolanus was angry. And you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. 

Coriolanus was strong and hard against your body, tense as he held you so intimately yet so roughly. 

Fuck, you couldn’t even think. What was happening? 

“Corio-”

“Quiet,” Coriolanus commanded. His deep voice, raspy with lust and with rage sent shockwaves down your spine. “Fuck me, huh? I could have you begging on your knees, crying for my cock all day and all night and you would never deserve it. Be careful, angel, because I can ruin you.”

Another gasp fell from your lips and Coriolanus took pleasure in the way you squirmed against him, thighs pressing together as you felt the flush of his words through your body. So reactive. Somehow, you fit perfectly against him, so that he could feel every little tremor he caused in your body, every goosebump that he placed on your skin. His eyes never left yours, his resolve solid as iron. 

Your mouth watered at the thought of all the things Coriolanus could do to you. Thoughts you had never imagined having, especially not for him. It overwhelmed you - he overwhelmed you. But all you had to do was glance at the file on his desk, the file with your surname plastered onto the front and you were shoving him off of you. 

The rise and fall of your chest was heavy and you had the sudden urge to punch the sultry smirk right off of Coriolanus’ face. That was not okay. Right now, you didn’t even want to think about the way your body reacted to his, they way you would have let him have his way with you right there and then. 

“Just-just what the hell am I doing here, Snow?”

Coriolanus swallowed. He didn’t have an answer that he could share with you even if he wanted to give you one. “Making up for the sins of your family. Do not make me repeat myself again.”

“Fine. But-”

“That’s enough,” Coriolanus firmly stated. He turned his back to you, flexing his hands that were curled into fists at his sides. “Candice will show you where you will be staying. I’ll find you when you’re needed.”

[cupid-styles]

mates, part ii

word count: 2.7k

content warnings: abo dynamics, smut (knotting, dirty talk, teasing/a lil bit of humiliation); just as an fyi everything is completely consensual!

read the first part here

masterlist | talk to me

fall/halloween blurb list

. . .

To: Y/N

Are you ignoring me?

Y/N quickly swipes out of her text thread with Harry and locks her phone. It's been a little over a week since they met at his frat's party, and it's safe to say that she's been... overwhelmed by the possibility of him being her mate.

It's not that he did anything to make her uncomfortable, or he doesn't seem like a nice guy — all the opposite, actually. After they kissed, there was no follow-up on his end to try to convince her to stay over or sleep with them. They just talked, about everything and anything, ranging from their go-to coffee order to their most embarrassing childhood stories. It was only when Y/N realized her phone was blowing up with panicked texts from Lea and Paige that she decided to head home, but not without exchanging numbers with Harry and a sweet forehead kiss.

It was nice. But Y/N wasn't ready to settle down, and she'd never even thought the whole mates thing was real! And now she just had this knowledge that this man who seemed like he could be her mate was gorgeous and kind and lived all but 10 minutes away from her and — it was just all too much.

So that's why she's ignoring him.

. . .

"She here?"

Harry tears his attention from staring down the front door, glancing at Noah, one of his frat brothers. He grumbles in response and takes a sip of his lukewarm beer. 

"Dude, she's probably not your mate if she doesn't wanna see you," he continues, but Harry shrugs, searching through the crowded room to see if she or any of her friends came to their party tonight. "I'm just saying, you're probably driving yourself crazy over some omega girl that just fucked with your head."

"She wouldn't do that." Harry mutters through a clenched jaw. "It's not like that."

"Whatever, man."

He doesn't pay attention as Noah walks away, already pulling his phone out to see if she's replied to any of his messages from the past week.

Unsurprisingly, there isn't a thing.

. . .

After Harry forces himself up to bed, he wakes up to his phone vibrating on his nightstand. Through squinted eyes, he sees that the call is coming from an unknown number but in a sleepy haze, he still answers.

"Is this Harry?" a panicked voice sounds through the receiver.

"Uh... yeah," he croaks, clearing his throat, "Who is this?"

"Lea. Y/N's friend."

His eyes snap open and he sits up, his chest starting to ache the more he awakens. 

"Listen, I don't really know much about this, like I remember learning about in school growing up but I've never seen it happen but, um— Y/N's like, really sick, and I think she needs you."

"What do you mean she's sick?" he fires back, throwing the comforters off his body. He presses the 'speaker' button and grabs a pair of sweatpants to throw on, quickly shimmying them up his legs.

"She's in her heat, I think, and it came out of nowhere. We live together, so I usually can tell when it's coming by the way she's acting or her scent," Lea explains, "But she— she woke up not too long ago and she's sweating and feverish. She told me what happened at the party, how she thinks you two might be mates and it's the first thing I thought of— I don't know if I should take her to the hospital—"

"Don't do that," Harry cuts her off, the thought of people poking and prodding her when she's in such a vulnerable state sending a shiver down his spine, "I'm coming. Send me your address."

"Harry, do you understand what this means?" Lea asks, her tone hardened. "It means you are mates and her body is in so much pain from being away from you that it's physically calling out to you."

"Yes, I understand," he mutters, jogging down the stairs of the house, "I paid attention in class too. Address. Now."

The line goes dead and Harry's movements pause, a crease between his brows. He's ready to punch the wall when a text comes through from the same number. 

Here's our address. I'm leaving as soon as you get here. Don't fuck with her.

. . .

Hot.

Everything is so fucking hot. 

Y/N doesn't think she's ever felt this awful in her life. She's gone through heats before and is usually able to manage them on her own — she doesn't believe in needing to call up some boneheaded alpha to fuck her through it — but this is... it's nearly intolerable. She doesn't understand why Lea leaves the room and who she's talking to on the other side of the door. She's barely able to pick up on what she's saying, the pounding in her head so severe, her skin tight and uncomfortable, so all she does is hope she's calling 911.

It turns out, it's not 911.

It's Harry.

And if she wasn't feeling so terrible, she may have fought Lea on it, but she's gone the second Harry steps into her bedroom. Through blurry eyes, she recognizes his face and she swallows harshly. The ache in her chest lessens ever so slightly as she smells the same warm, musky scent she found comfort in last week.

"Heard you're not feeling too hot," he murmurs, kneeling down on the floor next to Y/N's head. She grumbles out something and he chuckles, lifting his hand to swipe away some of the sweat-matted baby hairs on her forehead. 

"Why're you here?" she slurs out, resisting the embarrassingly primal urge to grab his hand and lift his wrist to her nose. 

"Lea called me," he replies softly, "She thought I might be able to help."

"Why?"

His shoulders slump slightly and Y/N doesn't know why. 

"Well... we're mates, remember?" he says gently, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, "And... this is kind of a scientific thing that happens when you meet your mate and you distance yourself from them. Your body is craving me. Essentially."

"'s dumb," she mutters, swallowing slowly, "But I feel better with you here."

The corners of Harry's mouth turn up slightly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods. "Harry?"

"Hm?"

"m gonna ask you to do something and I need you not to judge me."

His spine straightens, concern apparent in his face. 

"I need your knot. Badly."

. . .

It takes Y/N around 20 minutes to convince Harry to have sex with her.

It's not because he doesn't want to — he's actually been daydreaming about it for the past week, and had more wet dreams than when he presented as an alpha for the first time. He's concerned that when her false heat wears off and her body calms itself down, she'll do the same thing again, where she gets scared and starts avoiding him. And they both know she can't promise him anything, that trust can only exist if they allow it, but he can see how much she's aching for it. She looks better now that she's in his presence; the sweat beading at her forehead has evaporated, he's made her drink water so she's a bit more hydrated, and she doesn't feel as weak now that he offered her to nose at his neck.

(He could tell she wanted to and was too embarrassed to ask. He crawled into bed next to her, ignoring the dampness of her sheets and allowed her to nuzzle up to him, cuddling into his side as she takes deep, calming inhales of his scent.)

Harry can smell how desperate she is. The alpha part of his brain is going insane and it's taking every cell in his body not to ruin her the way he wants to. He knows she's leaking down to her bum, her panties and sleep shorts soaked from writhing in need for the past few hours, and it's finally when she starts moving against him, grinding on his hip that he gives in.

"Alright, puppy," he mutters, gripping her hips and pressing his thumbs into her skin, "You need to relax if you want me to knot you."

"I can't," Y/N whines with a sniffle, "I've been begging for you hours—"

"It's been less than a half an hour, sweetheart—"

"I don't care!" she pouts, "Please, just knot me, I need it, please alpha—"

"Y/N," his pupils dilate a noticeable amount at the use of the honorific, and it makes her smirk. She's prepared to use every tactic in the book, desperate to feel some sort of intimacy with the person she knows is her mate. "Take a deep breath. I'll give you what you want as soon as you stop squirming around."

She does as she's told, watching him as he shows her to inhale deeply, hold it, and then let it out. Her shoulders relax some, her muscles just a little less tense than they were a second ago. She feels some sort of relief knowing that he is planning to knot her and she doesn't have to beg for it any longer (something she knows she'll be humiliated by as soon as her false heat passes).

"Okay," Harry says softly, sitting up on his knees, "You can tell me to stop at any point, alright? As soon as you feel that you're winding down or you don't want to do it anymore, you let me know—"

"Yes, yes, just fuck me already!"

He grunts with a roll of his eyes before pulling his tee-shirt up and over his head, Y/N's mouth nearly salivating at the sight of his toned muscles. Every dirty act is passing through her brain at a mile a minute — she wants to do everything from grind on his abs to have him fuck her face down, but she knows it's better to stay quiet and accept whatever he's willing to give her.

"Jesus, you're soaked," he mutters when he tucks his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, revealing her sodden panties. He can see the outline of her swollen pussy through the damp fabric, licking his lips as he pulls at them, the tightened material brushing up against her most sensitive parts with a gasp. "Why didn't you tell me you made such a mess down here?"

She whimpers, too hazy to reply. With a smirk, he pushes the width of the fabric to the side to push a finger inside, her pulsating hole instantly clamping down around it. 

"So needy," he mumbles, curling up to her g-spot. She moans out loudly and he chuckles. "What, all that for just one finger? Such a noisy little puppy. Gonna need to gag you."

Her eyes roll back at that and he makes a mental note of her apparent affinity for restraints, adding another finger in to begin stretching her out. She's all but riding his fingers, grinding down on them desperately as she begs through breathy moans to stop teasing and make her cum. 

"You're not coming unless it's around my cock," he says, stretching up over her body to latch his lips around her nipple. She arches her back, clawing at his shoulders to bring him closer as his tongue lulls around the bud, popping off when it's hard and messy with his spit. 

"N-need your cock," she stumbles over her words through fluttered eyelashes, "Please alpha."

Harry groans and rips her panties from her body, reaching up to stuff them in her mouth without a second thought. She squeaks through the ball of fabric, eyes wide with surprise that quickly turns to lust. 

"If you want me to last at all, I need you to shut the fuck up," he nearly growls as he pushes his sweatpants down his legs. His cock is painfully hard — if he's being honest, he's been hard since he left his house an hour ago, thinking about the way Y/N was likely writhing around in her bed, horny and desperate for him. He's never been the edging type — he's usually far too impatient for that — and this just proved that he really doesn't care for it.

Her eyes are watery at this point, his heart jumping at the sight of his sweet, submissive omega beneath him. He realizes that, if he's lucky, this is what the rest of his life will look like. Fuck, he hopes it is.

Hovering over her form, his prick bobbing beneath their bodies, he lifts a thumb to her face to wipe away the fallen tears. He coos, his lips upturned in a devilish smirk as she spit slowly pools at the corners of her lips.

"Are you ready for me?" he asks huskily, shifting his knees upwards so he's smearing the tip of his cock over her clit. A muffled whimper sounds from her lips and she nods eagerly. "Sweet little omega. Gonna make you mine, okay? Gonna stuff you full of my knot the way you've been begging."

He makes good on his promise, Y/N's eyes rolling back as he pushes into her. His chest vibrates with a load moan, the warmth of her pussy instantly wrapping around him in the most delicious way. 

"So fuckin' warm and wet, knew you'd be perfect," he mutters, reaching for her hand. She takes it instantly, intertwining their fingers together and pressing their hands next to her head into the fluff of her pillow, "From the second I set eyes on you— you were mine, you know that?"

She nods her head, his prick pushing inside of her in a steady pace. He reaches up and rips the fabric from her mouth, tossing it the side before smearing their lips together in a messy kiss. 

"Fuck," she breathes, her jaw slack, "Fuck, you feel so good."

She resists saying the words that are at the tip of her tongue — you feel like you were made for me — because it's too soon, too intimate to say right now. She knows that they both feel it, though. She can barely utter out words when his hand travels down to where they're connected, thumbing at her clit. 

"How do you like it, baby?" he asks through a clenched jaw, "Like this? Soft and slow?"

She shakes her head, gasping when he increases the pressure and speed of her finger on the nerves. 

"Ah, there it is. Like it faster, hm? Oh, look at that, so cock dumb and ready to gush around me."

"Pl-please, I need to cum, I—"

"'Please'?" he mocks, and her mouth drops open at his unexpected teasing tone, "'Please make me cum, alpha, need your knot.' Silly baby."

She's surprise that his taunting is finally what does her in, her pussy squeezing his cock tightly as he fucks her through her orgasm. He's so thankful — so thankful — since he's been fighting his own peak off for what seems like an impossibly long time, and when he flutters his eyelashes open to see her own eyes shut in overwhelming pleasure, the prettiest of moans falling from her lips, he's coming. It's so much, which he supposes he should've expected, and she gasps out when she feels him filling her and fucking his cum deep inside.

It's a mess of breathy moans and whimpers, Y/N's eyes wide as she watches him, the fullness an all-consuming sensation that she's immediately addicted to. 

"Y'alright?" Harry finally croaks out, wiping some of the sweat away from her forehead. She nods, her pussy clenching down on his knot in the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Shit—"

"Sorry," she quickly breathes out, "Sorry, it was an accident—"

"'s okay, pretty," he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips, "Here, do you wanna— I can move us onto our sides to it's a little easier."

She nods. He's gentle in his movements, looking out for any sudden winces as they shift, spooning her from behind with his knot still tucked inside of her.

"Do you feel better?" he asks softly, running his fingers down the length of her arm.

"Yeah," she murmurs, "Thank you. I'm sorry if I ransacked you into this. I know I haven't been great this past week... you're probably pretty pissed that I'm your mate."

Harry chuckles and shakes his head, his heart rate quickening ever so slightly at the mention of her being his. 

"Not pissed at all. Over the moon, actually."

She smiles. "You're silly," she tilts her head, craning her neck to look at him. "I know it's late, but do you think we can make something to eat after this? I have pizza rolls in the freezer."

Pressing a kiss to her temple, his lips break out into a grin so wide it almost hurts. 

"Yeah, baby. I'll make you whatever you want."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[cc--2224]

Asking For Help

Pairing: Platonic Tech & F!Reader

Summary: You decide to stay in bed to deal with the pain you're experiencing. The Batch notices and sends Tech to check on you.

Warnings: Reader kind of described as AFAB as fic deals with period pain. But other than that, pure fluff! It can 100% be platonic.

Word Count: 918

Notes: Does the Bad Batch understand anatomy? Probably. Was it more fun to make them panic? Absolutely. I mostly wrote this for me as I took the day off work for this exact reason 😂 no real proofreading.

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

The Marauder's cockpit seemed weirdly empty without you, and everyone noticed your absence. You hadn't been with Clone Force 99 for very long, but when you spend all your time with the same people for four months, they start to worry when you're not being as social as you normally would.

"Where is she?" Hunter finally asked, looking at the empty seat you normally occupied.

Wrecker shrugged, "I tried calling her this morning for breakfast but she didn't leave her room."

"Is it not obvious?" Tech asked, eyes not leaving his datapad. "She exhibits this behaviour roughly around the same time each month."

He thought he was giving everyone the answer, but their confused faces told him that he wasn't.

"She is mostly likely menstruating."

"In Common, Tech." Wrecker said.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, "She's on her period. It's not the end of the world."

Eyes turned back to Tech for an explanation, and he sighed.

"Do none of you pay attention to the anatomy manuals? People who are biologically female go through this process nearly every month. Their body prepares itself for an egg to be fertilized, but when it is not, it begins to shed the excess in the form of blood and uterine lining. Typically resulting in side effects such as; mood swings, pelvic cramps, lower back pain, and headaches to name a few."

Wrecker looked shocked, "And they do this every month? That sounds painful."

Tech shrugged, "I couldn't say, from my understanding, each person reacts differently."

"Shouldn't we check on her? Make sure she's okay?" Hunter asked.

"She does it every month with or without us, I don't see how now is any different." Crosshair pointed out.

"Yeah but, we're her friends, we should help if we can."

Wrecker looked back to Tech, "You know the most about it, you go see if she's okay."

Expectant looks all pointed in Tech's direction and he shook his head. "Fine, I suppose I could inquire after her."

Truthfully, Tech was also concerned for you, even though he had a vague understanding of what was going on. He found your presence soothing, and the Marauder seemed more cheerful with you around. And it was his nature to want to solve any problems that arose, so he wanted the chance to do that now.

He got up from his seat and walked toward the refresher to look for a hot compress and some painkillers so that he might actually be of assistance before cautiously walking toward your room.

He knocked quietly.

"...Yeah?" You croaked from inside the room.

"It's Tech, may I come in?"

You didn't answer immediately but then after a few seconds you spoke, "Door's unlocked."

He pressed the button to open the door before stepping in and letting it close behind him. He frowned slightly when he was you curled up on your bunk with your arms around your stomach.

"I take it I was correct then, you are menstruating."

"Yeah." You replied a little too harshly. "Did you need something?"

"It appears your absence went quite noticed this morning and the others are worried about you."

"So they sent you to check on me?"

He adjusted his goggles, "Well, even though I had suspected what the issue was, I suppose I was also worried."

You didn't say anything, but you moved slowly, creating room for him to sit down on your bunk, he sat on the edge.

"I have brought you a compress and painkillers, if you are interested. I have heard they help to alleviate any cramping and pain associated with it." He handed both to you.

You smiled at his gesture and took the painkillers first. "Thank you," you swallowed two of them down with water from the canteen beside your bunk, then you took the heat compress and hugged it to your stomach.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked, looking down at you.

You looked at him then looked at your pillow and shook your head.

"Very well, I will check up on you later then." He announced before standing up and walking toward the door.

"Wait.." You called out. He turned to look at you. "Can you stay.. with me?"

His expression went from surprised to a gentle smile, and he nodded. "Of course."

He walked back over to your bunk and returned to his seat on the edge.

"Can we- er... Can you hold me?" You asked, so quietly that he thought he might have misheard you.

"You'd like me to hold you?" He repeated.

His need for clarification caused blood to rise to your face in embarrassment.

"If-if that's okay, actually, nevermind I-"

But before you could finish your rambling, Tech crawled into the bunk next to you, holding you so your back was firm against his chest.

You sighed into him and closed your eyes as he began drawing idle shapes on the skin of your shoulder.

"Thank you, Tech." You repeated.

"You are welcome, but your gratitude is unwarranted. We are your friends, we want to help you. Anytime you need us, you do not need to be afraid to ask for help, no matter what ails you.”

You smiled once more. With the heat both from the compress and Tech pressed against you and the painkillers beginning to kick in, you felt yourself finally begin to drift off to sleep. Despite his protests, you were truly grateful to have friends who cared about you, no matter what was going on.

[fear-is-truth]

𝜗ϱ 𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑴 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑼𝑪𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺 ── kai anderson

꒰ 𝒌𝒂𝒊 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 ꒱

˚₊ ⊹ 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚: @yoursweetestgirl ˚₊ ⊹

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: college student!fem reader. legal age gap. sfw + nsfw content. probably ooc. typical kai behaviour (toxic, controlling, sexist ) talks of murder, blackmail.. spanking

𝓐/𝖭 : sorry it’s super ooc.. but i heavily relate to being stressed out by school, so here you go.

𝜗ϱ

imagine yourself stressing over a very important exam:

okay first of all, kai would use this as an opportunity to mansplain his philosophy on “self-growth”.

you know, that speech about “a larvae bee has to shed its skin to become queen”. etc.

and if you’re crying, don’t expect kai to go soft on you. he’d tell you point blank to stop being so weak.

then, he’d do a pinky power ritual with you and ask: “how bad do you want this?”

you can might as well kiss your moral compass goodbye because kai is very persuasive and there’s a good chance that he’d successfully corrupt you.

“in an unfair world, there's no such thing as ‘cheating.’ it's a quicker, smarter path to success. if you don’t seize the opportunity, someone else will take it.”

being a man of action, kai will do anything for you. fuck morals (as if he has any, ha)

given his computer programming skills, he'd hack into the system to steal the answers for the upcoming exam.

also ‘modify’ your grades a bit while he's at it, maybe even sabotage other peoples’ too.

if you’re immune to kai’s gaslighting and insist that you want to study yourself, then fine. he’d let you skip a couple of cult meetings.

when you’re studying in the house, kai would tell the rest of the cult members not to stick around after meetings.

you’d have to make up for it, though. like clean up the trash or something.

——————————————————————————————

imagine yourself in danger of failing your worst subject:

failing your classes? leave it to kai. he would find a way to blackmail or threaten your professor into letting you pass.

if the subjects that you’re struggling with happens to be mathematics or science, you’re in luck because he’s very good at it.

fair warning, kai is not the most patient teacher. he’d get frustrated and think that you’re stupid if you don’t get it right.

——————————————————————————————

imagine yourself being bullied at school

if someone at school is giving you shit, he’d stalk them on social media and send winter to spy for him.

a few days later, that person won’t be bothering you again. or breathing.

——————————————————————————————

imagine yourself experiencing study burnout:

on more than one occasion, you experience study burnout, skipping meals and pulling all-nighters.

kai would get super pissed. like how dare you wreck your body over something stupid like this?

the unhealthy lifestyle will affect your reproductive hormones and menstrual cycles, ultimately reducing your chances of fertility success. (sorry i had to add this)

he’d enforce a bedtime on you. lights out at eleven thirty– no ifs, ands, or buts.

“if you're incapable of handling your own sleeping schedule, someone else has to step in and do it for you. bed. now.”

and more mansplaining:

“why’d you seek academic validation to prove superiority? a perfect gpa or fancy diploma won’t help you change history-”

despite being his annoying self, kai would still take care of you. in his own way.

he makes sure that your basic needs are met, like having three meals a day, staying hydrated etc.

kai doesn’t cook, (kitchen work is for women, in his opinion) so he either orders takeout or microwaves pizza for you.

kai very skilled at reading people, to the point that it’s kind of scary. he can easily pick up on your frustration just from the smallest signs– a faint furrow of your brow, the way you purse your lips or tap your foot.

when this happens, he’ll snatch away your textbook or laptop and insist that you take a quick shower.

“get yourself cleaned. no point in sitting here, growing mold and not achieving anything.”

kai joins you in the shower, saying that he was gonna do it anyways and you might as well shower together to save water (oh so now he cares about the environment)

he washes your hair for you, acting like it was no big deal. needless to say, one thing leads to another..

- venturing into ˚₊ ⊹ NSFW ˚₊ ⊹ territory, mdni!! -

kai has an very… interesting method of helping you improve your memory.

he’d have you over his knee and quiz you with textbook material.

you’d get spanked for every wrong answer.

every time you make a “breakthrough”, for instance finishing that assignment or finally grasping the difficult material, he'd glance at you with the faintest hint of approval in his eyes.

followed by celebratory sex. (a win-win situation)

after a long study session, you can count on him to fuck the stress out of you.

TAGLIST: @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @officerballs @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @stveharringtn @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @kai-slut @doll3tt33 @babydollxxblood @coentinim

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GUARDIAN ANGEL! GOJO x FEM READER 

Kneeling by your bed, rosary wrapped around your knuckles, lips pressed to the burnished rosewood, you pray. 

God, please send me another guardian angel. 

A blast of static from the TV behind you. 

The one you sent me- 

“Hey, how does the thing work?” Gojo says, accompanied by loud thumps. You cringe in silence. 

He’s strange. 

wc — 3.7k

tags — religion, Gojo has to reckon with the consequences of being the strongest, domesticity, attempted (failed) mugging/attack, Gojo kills a man for you (non graphic), Shoko’s a good friend, bs angel lore, I think of this like a prequel to reader’s villain arc lol,  title from closer by nine inch nails 

You wake up to a man standing over your bed. Understandably, you scramble backwards, hands over knees over legs over feet, all your limbs tangled together, until you bump into your headboard. 

“Hi!” He says cheerily. “Wow, haven’t gotten that reaction in a while, not since- Anyways. I’m Gojo Satoru, your guardian angel. Please make breakfast, it’s 12 pm already and I’m starving. Your sleep habits are terrible.” 

You shake, terrified. Nothing he said has gone through your brain.

“Um, hello? Deep breaths now. It’s really not that serious, can you stop that? Hellooooo,” he’s snapping his fingers in front of your face, trying to get through to you. 

You panic and bat his hand away, but if you can touch him, that means he’s real. You’re not dreaming. There’s a strange man in your house calling himself your guardian angel. You try to pull yourself together enough to make a coherent sentence. What comes out is: 

“Um. Guardian angel. What?” 

“You don’t believe me,” he says. 

You’ve heard it can be dangerous for people suffering from delusions to be forcefully brought out of their dreams. “No,” you say carefully. “I’m sure this is all a big understanding.” 

“No, that’s okay,” he laughs. “I love getting to do this.” 

Massive wings unfurl from his back. It’s a strange sight. The air seems to ripple around them, iridescent ebbs and flows of the universe to make space for the impossible. They seem to sprout right out of his shoulder blades. 

It’s undeniable, irrefutable proof. Your brain can’t process this. It goes back to sleep. 

You wake up to the smell of bacon burning in the kitchen. 

Gojo hums as he cooks, his wings out. You’re almost worried they’ll get caught in the flames when suddenly you have something much more real to worry about. 

“Ow!” He’s about to stick his finger into his mouth when you intervene, scolding him without even thinking about it. 

“That’s dangerous! Don’t put your hands in your mouth, especially not if you’ve been cooking. Come here,” you tug him over to run his hands under the faucet. 

“Who's the guardian angel again?” He teases, amused. 

You answer him with another question. “Why are you cooking, anyways?” 

“You’re starving me! It’s so late and you haven’t made breakfast yet - you know I could report you to the authorities for angel abuse, right?” 

Somehow, you don’t believe him. There may very well be a division in heaven’s bureaucracy dedicated to looking after angels, but something about Gojo is just on the edge of unbelievable, like if you blink too hard, it might disappear without a trace. It’s the wings, probably. 

You’re good at compartmentalizing, so you ignore all of the normal reactions someone would have to an angel randomly appearing in your apartment to instead make breakfast. Gojo already burned your favorite pan, so you stick it in the sink to soak while you rummage around for your second best set. Then you check the fridge. You’re out of butter and eggs. There are just two pieces of bacon left. Is it presumptuous to ask your angel to run errands with you? 

You poke your head out of the fridge to look at Gojo, staring remorsefully at the burnt remains of his once-was-an-egg. He’s nursing the cut on his finger. 

“Do you want to go grocery shopping?”

He smiles at you, slow and syrupy and- 

He can’t do that. He’s beautiful as it is, as if God took extra time crafting him. Smiling only makes his beauty all the more painful, tugging at the strings of your heart. His snow white hair curls against the nape of his neck, a ruthlessly cute detail you notice when he tilts his head at you. 

“I would love to. What’s grocery shopping?” 

Introducing Gojo to the modern world is an exercise in both patience and childish wonder. There’s so much he doesn’t know. He tells you the last time he’s been on Earth was somewhere back in the 90’s.

“Like 1990? That’s pretty recent,” you remark. 

“Like 90 CE.” 

He’s delighted by everything, even the simplest of snacks, and begs you to add them to your cart. Ramune impresses him to no end. He’s enthralled by the taste of ice cream after the nice worker gives him a sample. You might really be reported to the Bureau of Angel Abuse at this point - all he’s interested in is junk food. It takes a while to finally wrangle him away from everything. In a way, it’s your fault because you hesitate to refuse an angel anything, and Gojo wants it all. You only manage to get him to agree to go home once you’ve tired him out. 

There was a sense of reverence, at first. 

There’s an angel living in your home. It’s hard to imagine getting used to that. Walking into the bathroom to the sight of Gojo brushing his teeth shirtless, his wings out, is a sight that will never get old. He manages to transform even the mundane into the divine. The sunlight strikes his hair at just the right angle to glow, giving him a faux-halo. 

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I think I used up all your toothpaste.” 

By day seven, you’ve wised up to Gojo’s tactics. If you don’t say no to anything, he’ll steamroll right over you, so you have to grow a backbone. 

“Oh, Christ? Yeah, we’re old pals. We go wayyyyy back.” 

“Please be quiet while I’m trying to pray.” 

“We’re in the same therapy group, actually. He texts me all the time for advice-“ 

“Gojo. Shut. Up.” 

He’s silent for all of a minute before he pipes up again. “I don’t think capital G up there would appreciate that.” 

You have never missed a day of prayer in your life. No temptation has been able to sway you from your duties. Hunger, thirst, and pain all were swept away in the face of your faith. Were you seriously about to start now, being annoyed to death by a particularly useless angel? 

The best solution to Gojo is always to ignore him. He needs attention like flowers need water. 

Without it, he stalks off to sulk. 

It’s night by the time he returns. He’s flying, which you usually don’t allow him to do, but you’ve driven out to a more remote, private church to pray. It’s owned by an old family friend, who handed you the keys without question. Half of this is for you, to experience god in the sanctity of nature, and half is for Gojo. You hate seeing him cooped up. Part of you feels like you’ve chained him down. You’re a trap in the form of a human, made to keep him grounded. 

He touches down next to you, hair slicked to his forehead in sweat. When he stretches his arms, his wings move simultaneously. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look more alive. He loves nothing like he loves flying, and you’re inclined to agree. 

Maybe you’ll let him take you for another ride tonight. You love the feeling of the wind against your face, the sight of the landscape beneath you when he takes you up, the feeling in your stomach when he tucks his wings in and free-falls for fun. You’re not scared. Gojo would never let anything happen to you. 

You might ask, later. Now, you send him off to the car ahead of you while you lock up. He’s cheerful as he heads off, whistling merrily. You’re glad flying has improved his mood. It’s equally painful for you whenever he’s upset with you. Perhaps it's simply a side effect of being a guardian angel .

The key is in the door when you feel the first hint of danger. 

“All the money in your pockets, ma’am.” 

Polite, for a thief. 

“You’re not from around these parts.” He says as you spin around. “Should’ve known better than to go wandering around these woods alone. Whatever happens next is on you, sweetheart. If only you’d been a little more careful.” 

He has a knife. 

“What do you want? Money? You can have it.” It doesn’t matter much to you. As long as he leaves before Gojo comes back. 

“Sometimes, ma’am, men don’t want anything but a thrill.” 

Then he lunges at you, presses you against the wall, and pins you with a knife to your throat. 

“Don’t scream now. No one would hear you anyways.”

He’s wrong about that part. 

You hear him coming up the path before you see him. 

“What’s taking you so long?” Gojo whines. “I wanna go home and watch Love Island already-oh.” 

“Run!” Gojo might be an angel, but you’ve seen him cut himself making toast. He can bleed like any other man, gold ichor, yes, but blood still. You don’t want to see him hurt. 

Instead, he sizes up your assailant, unfurls those beautiful wings - they always take your breath away - and in one swift move, simply tears you from his grasp. It’s faster than you can blink. 

The man makes a muffled sound of fear and shock as Gojo seems to blink back into existence. You know he’s only moving too fast for your brains to comprehend. 

“Stay here,” he deposits you on the grass behind him. It’s scorched, burned black from the temperature of his wings. 

He turns up the heat. You didn’t think it was possible, but he was clearly holding back. The air seems to melt around him, heat waves shimmering off his skin, his white feathers. They glow with an otherworldly light, radiating heat. 

You didn’t know true glory until this moment, and it frightens you. All other versions of blue fade in favor of Gojo’s eyes - a single, unyielding truth. He is a piece of heaven on earth, burning up. His anger is righteous. Holy. His true nature melts away his human appearance. 

He’s a seraph, one of the highest order of angels.  

You’ve never seen him fight before, don’t know how he gets his weapons or where he puts them. It just appears out of thin air. He carries a flaming sword in one hand, its pommel is white marble, its blade glass. Contrary to common belief, his voice doesn’t boom. In fact it’s all the more threatening because it is soft, a whisper so clearly heard it defies the laws of the world just because it can. 

He raises the sword like an executioner and judge all in one. 

You barely have time to close your eyes in horror when you realize what he’s about to do. 

Real angels are not like the watered down, commercialized ones you can find today in any young adult TV show. Real angels are bloody. Real angels are the hand of God, ruthless and violent.

Real angels have no mercy. 

You open your eyes again when you feel the now familiar heat on your skin. 

He’s standing before you, beaming. It’s clear he expects praise. In heaven, it might’ve been given to him. 

You can only stare at him in fear, not awe.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He steps closer, his burning wings flapping. “It’s okay. I got rid of him. You’re safe now.” 

You’re ashamed a split second after it happens because it’s so pathetic, but you can’t help it. Your animal instincts react instinctively to the threat, sending you skittering back on your palms and ass away from him. 

He freezes. His wings remain moving. Perhaps, like a shark and its gills, he simply can’t stop. 

“You’re afraid of me,” he says, stunned. “Why are you afraid of me?” 

The heat from his wings is baking your face. You’re afraid if you speak, your skin will crack. Still, Gojo shows no signs of leaving you alone. If anything, he’s about to get closer. 

“Stop,” you squeak. You throw out your hands in front of you like the world’s most useless shield. Your eyes are watering from looking into his radiance. 

Helpless, Gojo does something he hasn’t done since he was just a newborn angel. 

He asks for help. 

Shoko Ieri looks nothing like him, so that answers one question you’ve always had. Gojo tells you she’s another angel, although you don’t see her wings past the first minute you’ve met. After Gojo summons her to the scene and she catches the way you look at him, she keeps them carefully folded in. 

She helps you into the passenger seat when you can’t make your legs move to walk back to your car. You won’t let Gojo touch you, feeling torn at the look on his face when you flinch back from him. 

He’s sitting on a stool at the island while Shoko checks you over for injuries in the kitchen. There’s no major damage, just the after effects of shock and adrenaline working through your system. 

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” He says, hurt and confused. 

“You fucking idiot. You colossal blockhead. You-“ Shoko pauses, not because she’s run out of things to say, but because she has too many. “It’s not about you, right now, okay? I know it’s hard for you to get your head out of your ass, but can you at least try to be supportive?” 

Gojo makes a noise like he wants to protest, but you shift your weight and that draws his attention back to you. The look on your face makes him fall silent.

Shoko leaves after she’s completed her examination, though she doesn’t leave you helpless. 

“Do you want to come with me?” She says, carefully. “I understand if you don’t want to be left alone with him right now.” 

You shake your head. 

“Listen, I know Gojo scared you. I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have. He’s always been too reckless - ugh. The stories I could tell you. But I promise you, he will never hurt you - not just because he cares about you, but because he’s literally not allowed to. He’s your guardian angel.” 

“I know,” you say, and that’s the end of that. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence after Shoko leaves. You’re not sure how to navigate the once easy relationship between you and Gojo now. Always unable to keep still, he breaks the silence first. 

“Do you want to talk about it now?” He says softly. Everything about him is dulled, even the gleam of his brilliant hair. He’s back within his human skin, even more modestly than before, as if he has taken care to seal up every crack that his true nature could spill out of. 

You choose your first question carefully. “Why has the lord sent a seraph to watch over me?” 

Seraphs are the highest level of the hierarchy of angels. They maintain the order of the world, fulfilling God’s will. For one to have come to you- 

True horror is sinking in. You love your saints. You worship them devoutly, knowing each story by heart. You could trace a path through the church library of all the books you’ve read on them, giving the history of each spine. 

You do not want to be one of your saints. 

Joan of Arc died at 19. Saint Agatha was canonized for being tortured violently.

By sending you such a strong protector, your lord may be condemning you to die young, but that’s not why you cry. You cry because you are too weak to fulfill his command. 

Life is sweet. You don’t want to give up the taste of tart oranges on your tongue, the feeling of the babbling creek over your feet, the songs of the birds in the morning. You don’t want to give up Gojo’s wake up calls, or the feeling of flying. 

All these selfish, worldly pleasures should mean nothing to you when faced with the lord’s call, and yet- 

You resent it still. 

You’re so confused by it all. Why were you given such a burden and told nothing about it? What does any of it mean? 

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. We don’t get told anything but who we were assigned to.” 

“Okay,” you say. 

“That’s it? Okay? I scare the shit out of you, and all you have to say is okay?” 

“Gojo, I don’t want to fight anymore. Let me just go to bed, please.” 

You’re woken up not by the light of Gojo’s halo, as you’ve gotten used to when he comes to your room demanding breakfast, but by the sun. The curtains are open, and sunbeams stream in over your pillow. 

Gojo is in the kitchen making - not burning - breakfast. He doesn’t turn when you pad into the kitchen on slippered feet, but you know he knows you’re there. You’re feeling much better. Sleep has refreshed you from the major shock to your system last night, and now you feel almost half bad for your reaction to him. He only wanted to help you, after all. 

It’s not his fault he’s strong. At the end of the day, he’s just another gear in the universe, like you. Neither of you are important enough to be privy to the greater, divine plan, not even a seraph. You shouldn’t have snapped at him. You’re in this together. 

You stand on tiptoe behind him to peer over his shoulder into the pan. 

“I’m making you breakfast,” he says. Is it just you, or does he seem almost shy? 

What an impact you’ve had on him. Your heart breaks. You’ve only known him to be bold and uncaring of human customs like politeness. You didn’t think it would upset you to see him learn manners, and yet- 

It’s a consequence of your rejection last night, as if he’s worried you’ll pull away again. This isn’t what you wanted, ever. 

“We should talk,” you say. 

“Yeah. We should.” He still won’t turn around, avoiding eye contact. 

Before you can speak, he blurts out, “ Do you not want me to be your angel anymore?”

“Of course not,” you say, reaching out for him. He’s hesitant to let you pull him closer, take his hands in yours. “Gojo, why would you think that?” 

“You’re scared of me,” he says, almost petulantly, like a sulking child. “You don’t like me anymore.” 

“Gojo,” you can think of nothing to say but his name. Sweet Gojo. Selfish Gojo. Gojo, who you’ve gotten used to having around. Gojo, who has infiltrated your life and now thinks to leave like you can kick him out like that. Like you would. Gojo, who you’re fond of in a way you can’t articulate, despite the way he takes and takes from you. Gojo, who you’re willing to keep, despite everything. 

Gojo, who you care about, enough to want him to stay. 

Gojo, who cares about you, enough to want to leave. 

He takes this like a rebuff and wrenches his hands out of yours. 

You grab his face and forcefully drag his attention back to you. His eyes are wild like a trapped animal, but there’s no sign of fire. He’s carefully dampened any kind of godliness in him.

“Oh, Gojo. Please don’t. I want you with me, I promise. I would never ask you to leave.”

“You don’t have to,” he says grimly. A soldier to the end. He knows how to do the hard things. Sometimes, you have to cut the rot out before the wound festers. 

“I am scared of you - please don’t make that face. You’re breaking my heart.”

“Your heart? What about mine?” He bristles. 

“I trust you. Let me prove it. Take your wings out again. Show me your true self.” 

“After seeing how you reacted?” He scoffs, turning defensive. You’ve exhausted his goodness, and now his emotions are getting the better of him, making the situation ugly. But you knew this would happen. 

You know him. 

And you know how to deal with him. 

“Come on,” you say.  “Think of it like exposure therapy.” 

“I don’t want to see you look at me like that again,” he admits.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you say. “Please. Do you trust me?” 

He ends up on the ground cross legged, his wings spread, back to you. His wings are fiery, but carefully controlled. He won’t burn you. 

You start small, running your hands all over his wings. They rustle underneath your touch like startled animals. When you tug gently at the ends, extending them to their full length, you realize how monstrous his wingspan truly is. From tip to tip, they’re larger than a grown man is tall. Your fingers creep along the thin ridge of his radius, deceptively thin beneath your fingers. If you didn’t know better, it would snap easily with just the barest hint of pressure. 

He makes a small noise. You jerk back, worried you’ve actually bent the bone, but he’s fine. He pushes his wings back under your hands like a puppy seeking attention. 

From the radius, you trail along the top edge to his metacarpus, then down to his feathers, all the way back to his scapula. From there, it’s only a few inches over to his actual shoulder blades. He shudders when you touch him there, your fingertips lightly grazing over the bone. You press down gently. His muscles flex under your skin, tense and wound up. 

You realize that he's been suspiciously quiet for a while. He’s too still, as if he’s purposely holding himself in place. Have you hurt him without knowing? Would he tell you if you had?

“Gojo?” You pull your hands away from his wings and he shudders as if he’s been burned. “Look at me.” 

He won’t turn, so you grab him by the chin and force his head up so you can look him in the face. Even down on the floor like this, he’s tall. His face is pink, his eyes wide like he’s been stunned. He looks almost like he’s in pain.

“What’s wrong? Why didn’t you say anything? Does it hurt?” You fret over him. 

“Doesn’t,” he says hoarsely. “Feels too good.” 

You freeze. It’s this sight of an angel in all his celestial grace wrecked by your touch, brought down by just the brush of your fingers, that makes you realize it. 

It feels good to have an angel at your feet. 

[a-kaash-me-outside]

the walls are thin - ch5

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch5 | next [masterlist]

// overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 7955 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: oops, 18+ minors dni eventual smut, masturbation, incessant flirting (as always), msby besties, oh we're doing this already?, feelings are confusing but developing, drinking, frustrating a bit sorry abt that, she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

“i miss you,” he complains. you’d think you’d have gotten used to that phrase coming out of his mouth by now, but you can still feel your skin tingle. you roll your eyes nonetheless. 

“it’s not even been a full day,” you retort. 

he mulls over this for a minute before deciding that you’re wrong, “not true.”

“i think it is,” you say, “but even if it has been a full day, that’s kinda…,” you trail off, “pathetic?” 

he laughs, the pang in your heart telling you that maybe it isn’t so pathetic to miss somebody after not seeing them for a few tens of hours. you smile at him, eyes moving away from his gaze after just a few seconds. 

“i miss you too, maki,” you reciprocate. 

“not so pathetic after all,” he points at you through the phone. 

you purse your lips to the side, thoughtful, “no, still pathetic i think, just from both sides.”

“yea, fair,” he says, flipping over in his bed, lying on his side, messy hair against his pillow in a way that you’ve seen in person a few too many times. he called you this morning before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. “so, what did you even do last night without me?”

“well, i was planning on staying in and spending all weekend by myself,” you start, “but i actually went over to atsumu’s last night.”

“you? hung out with atsumu? on a friday night? what kinda things did you have to do for that to happen?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. 

“nothing,” you sneer at him, “he’s the one that suggested it actually.”

“yea, and how did that go?” he asks, tiny tinge of jealousy hidden behind the sarcasm at the end of the sentence.

“weirdly good. i thought he might try to make a move or something, but we just kinda hung out,” you explain, maybe omitting the parts where you fell asleep on his chest and told him that you think about him all the time. 

“and what are you up to tonight?” all of the questions that he keeps asking about your weekend are making you miss him even more, because the answer is nothing but you wish the answer was hanging out with maki.

you sigh dramatically, “well, you guys left me, so i’m having lunch with atsumu, but i’m on my own tonight. which isn’t bad actually, going to just spend some time alone, get caught up on assignments, whatever.”

“i’d probably be having more fun with you,” he admits.

“what? not going good over there?” you ask.

“no, it’s a blast. i’ve missed these guys and it’s been super fucking fun. last night, hajime convinced oikawa to jump in the lake with him and because oikawa was really drunk, he did it, but hajime didn’t jump with him and oikawa was really pissed. swear to god he almost drowned. it was really great,” maki laughs at the thought and then responds to your concerned look, “he didn’t drown, yn, calm down, it was funny.”

“and i’ve got to catch up with people that i haven’t seen since high school,” maki shrugs, pausing, “but i mean, they’re not you.”

you’re about to react, some form of i get that coming out of your mouth as there is a harsh knock on maki’s door. “come in,” maki answers. 

from off screen, you hear oikawa mumble something. it’s quiet. you’re not sure you could’ve made it out if you hadn’t previously spent so much time with oikawa. “hajime wants to go to the diner to get food, get dressed.” 

“alright, alright, i’m just gonna say bye to yn,” maki says, sitting up in his bed. 

there’s a loud squeak of the mattress as oikawa jumps on the bed, you assume. “yn! how is everything back there? making it by without us?”

“it’s been one day, guys,” you groan, jokingly. “but it’s good. i’m good.”

“yn hung out with atsumu last night,” maki says. it sounds like a tattle. 

oikawa tilts his head to the side, “last night?” he’s sporting a devious smile as he pounces on maki, both hands covering maki’s ears as he says hushed, “and how did it go?”

a blush rises to your cheeks at the whole spectacle. maki is trying to push oikawa off of him and oikawa, surely used to testing iwaizumi in the same ways, is able to hold his ground. “good, it went good!” you reply in a laugh.

“and? did anything happen?” 

“no! stop it!” you say, watching as maki finally throws oikawa off of him. 

“okay! okay!” oikawa has both of his hands up in defeat, sliding off of the bed and walking towards the door. “10 minutes, maki, we’re leaving in 10.” the door closes off screen.

maki shakes his head, slightly out of breath, “i gotta go, but i’ll talk to you later, okay? i’ll text you.”

you nod. “and i’ll see you sunday?” you ask.

he tilts his head, questioning, “it hasn’t even been a full day. kinda pathetic.”

“fine,” you say, calling his bluff.

“no! i’ll see you sunday, loser,” he says quickly, “god, let me make fun of you for being obsessed with me once in a while.”

you can’t stop smiling. “alright, alright. see you sunday, maki. can’t wait.”

“can’t wait,” he repeats and then hangs up.

&lt; 11:21 pm < have a good day ♡

> maki ♡ / 11:21 pm > you too ♡

/++/

you’ve forgone yours and atsumu’s lawn blanket set up as per his request, which you weren’t really expecting. after the events of last night, you assumed he might want to have the space to be close to you. maybe not. 

you didn’t ask questions, just chose a familiar picnic table and sat on the side that you knew you could watch atsumu approach from. 

and you do, eyes on him as he walks towards you. he cuts through the lawn, deviating from the concrete path, throwing a smile your way when he recognizes that you’re watching him. 

“yknow it’s almost getting too cold to keep sitting out here,” you say as he approaches, gesturing to your spot on the lawn. your spot. you cross your arms over one another, shivering slightly. fall is settling in, the semester more over than it is started.

he walks around to your side of the bench and sits beside you. you’re not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, making you feel this flustered. when he takes his jacket off, the same one that you met him in, the same one that was hanging on the back of his chair last night, and presents it in front of you, you know that he must be doing this on purpose. 

“are you really giving me your jacket right now?” you ask, mind screaming at you to just grab it. “we’re not in a cheesy rom-com.”

“are ya cold or not?” he asks, extending it a bit further. 

“yes,” you mutter, grabbing it from him and sliding it on. “thank you, tsumu.” you’re enveloped with him, soft fabric infused with his clean scent, and you’re not sure you’re going to give this back, so you hope it’s not that important to him. “it’s cute that your accent comes out when you’re short,” you point out. 

“shuddup,” he says, shaking his head. you scooch over closer to him, legs pressed together. he throws his arm around your shoulder, picks at your lunch, and you’re very aware at how much of a couple you look like right now. it’s quiet, peaceful.

he breaks the silence with a sentence that you’re confused by how he thought it was a good idea, “don’t be mad.”

you immediately face him, expression contorted into confusion and maybe a bit of anger for no reason other than what else are you supposed to feel when someone prefaces with that?

he explains, “i’ve been thinking about what you said last night and-“

“TSUM TSUM!!” 

you jump at the loud voice and nickname. you can’t locate the source so you swivel your head. you search for whoever is calling for atsumu while he continues to explain, “so maybe i told my friends that i think they could meet you and we were getting lunch today.”

“bo, come on, you said you’d be chill,” another voice, a different voice, says. 

“and maybe they didn’t even let me explain, just said they would be there and maybe were a bit too enthusiastic about it?” he shrugs.

you spot the source now, the same buff man from the selfie smiling at you wide and waving excessively. you offer a small wave back. 

“me? meet your friends?” you ask, shocked. you obviously were about to meet his friends. they were crossing the lawn as you spoke. 

“i meant it last night, i just didn’t know you wanted to meet them,” atsumu says plainly. “and if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” ba-bump. 

you nod, because you’re certain that if you tried to speak, your words would come out jumbled. 

the two men take a seat across from you. the man with black and white hair beams, “it’s so great to meet you finally. we told him, said she’d probably love to meet us, but i think he’s just been embarrassed about us or something.”

“yn, this is bokuto,” atsumu introduces you. 

“and i’m sakusa,” the man with black hair and curly hair says, introducing himself. 

“it’s really great to meet you both,” you offer.

“hinata is going to be so sad he missed this,” bokuto says, “missing out on finally meeting the girl tsum tsum’s been talking about for weeeeeeks.”

“that’s enough,” atsumu says, shaking his head as he uses his free hand to shake it in front of bokuto. 

“bo’s right,” sakusa reasons, “atsumu does talk about you a lot.”

“guys, see, this is exactly why i didn’t want you to meet her, god,” atsumu says, clearly embarrassed, not used to being on defense around you, not like this. 

bokuto and sakusa are just smiling. 

“she deserves to know,” sakusa reasons, gesturing towards you. 

“yea, i deserve to know,” you speak up. there’s a prideful smile on sakusa’s face.

“never letting you guys interact again,” atsumu shakes his head, scrapes his fingers against your hip in a way that almost makes you jump. you can hear the lightness in his voice and when you turn to look at him, you can see the smallest warm smile. 

“so how do you guys know tsumu?” you ask, nickname slipping out just on instinct. 

neither of them tease you for it explicitly, but they do exchange a knowing look. if you were closer to them you could decipher the hidden meaning of she said it. she said the name. 

“volleyball,” bokuto says, “we all met at volleyball. atsumu is our setter. but also now our best bud.”

“yknow, i don’t think i’ve actually ever asked anything about your volleyball stuff,” you say to atsumu, putting your hand on his knee. you’ve always just talked about it vaguely, no real details. 

“but he's the volleyball guy,” sakusa smirks. 

“no-,” atsumu says.

“yeah! that’s what that guy called you? right?” bokuto asks. atsumu is about to interrupt again, a last-ditch plea on his face, but bokuto doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it, “maki.” your best friend’s name comes out of this stranger’s mouth in a mocking tone and oh my god atsumu talks shit about maki to his teammates/close friends.

there are a million ways you could react to this statement, stammering and stumbling over your words as you land on a sharp laugh. “i- you-,” you can’t stop laughing, “is that? does atsumu-.” you really can’t talk. 

“what?!” atsumu asks as if he has any room to be the one questioning you.

“you just,” tears are forming at the corners of your eyes as you lean into his shoulder, forehead against his jacketless skin, “fuckin- it got to you that badly?” you turn your attention towards bokuto, “is that how he said it?” 

bokuto, ever the betrayer of atsumu, nods his head. 

“quit it,” atsumu says, less shocked and embarrassed now, your laughter infecting him. “that’s how he said it.” there’s a smile behind the words, soft laughter coming along with it. when you don’t stop laughing for another few seconds, and then a few more, atsumu wraps his arms around you, smothering him in his strong arms. “yer being ridiculous.”

you push away from him and in between your fits of simmering down laughter, subsiding for only a few seconds at a time before picking back up again, you catch the smile on sakusa’s face that says so clearly that you can tell without knowing him at all, so this is why he can’t stop talking about you.

once you’ve finally composed yourself, you turn to sakusa and bokuto, “and you guys play?”

“we both play outside hitter,” sakusa explains, looking like he’s about to elaborate a bit further, but atsumu interrupts.

“since i’m the setter, that means that i’m kinda like the brains of the operation.”

“oh, fuck off, miya,” sakusa says, rolling his eyes. 

you laugh, “i know what a setter does.”

“how? we’ve never talked about it?”

“well, no, but i’ve seen maki play plenty of times,” you note, “oikawa’s a setter. maki and iwa play outside hitter. you didn’t know they played too?”

“oh my god, they’re both the volleyball guys,” sakusa comments, leaning back in his seat like he’s just had the biggest epiphany. 

“fuck off, omi,” atsumu sneers and then turns his attention back to you, “you never told me.”

you put your hands up, “i don’t know! i guess it just never came up.”

bokuto reaches out his arm, grabbing your forearm excitedly. “well, one day you’ll have to come watch us play, yn,” he says, smiling brightly at you. 

“i would really love that, actually. tsumu’s never invited me to one of his games before, so,” you say, shrugging. honestly, it had never been a thought on your mind before, a lot of things hadn’t been on your mind before, but now that you’re sitting here with his very fun friends, you really want to be a part of it all. a part of this side of his life, not the one that you’ve created and pulled him into, lunches and tiny meet ups and dragging him to the grocery store and having him babysit your plants, but whatever this is that’s making your chest feel so light. 

“or let you meet us,” sakusa chimes in. 

“yea, for good fuckin’ reason,” atsumu quips back.

“well, consider yourself officially invited to our next game,” bokuto nods, “here, give me your number and we can-.”

“no way,” atsumu interjects. 

you’re already reaching into your bag, pulling out your phone, ready to punch in bokuto’s phone number. 

“i really don’t need you guys to have more ways to talk shit about me,” atsumu says, but there’s no malice in the words. 

“i wasn’t going to talk shit about you, tsum tsum,” bokuto rolls his eyes, offering out his hand for you to drop your phone into. atsumu is skeptical as he lets you give your phone over to bokuto. as soon as his fingers curl around the phone, bokuto finishes his thought, “but there are plenty of cute photos of you that i have that don’t seem very fair for yn not to have.”

atsumu lunges forward to grab the phone out of bokuto’s hand, but bokuto pulls it back quickly. “bokkun, i swear to god,” atsumu says, standing up as best he can while still being inside of the bench. bokuto is already two steps ahead, springing from his seat, nearly hitting sakusa as he does. 

“watch it,” sakusa warns. 

bokuto is gone, running away as he presses buttons on your phone. atsumu is much more careful on his side, makes sure to unravel from you before stepping out of his seat. “i’m not kidding!” despite the head start bokuto acquired, atsumu is already almost on his heels. bokuto is laughing, head thrown back as he messes with your phone. 

sakusa takes this moment of chaos to talk to you directly. his voice pulls you out of this awestruck daze watching atsumu jump on bokuto’s back. “i can see why he talks about you all the time,” sakusa says lowly across the table as bokuto runs in circles with atsumu on his back as if he weighs nothing at all.

you’re feeling a bit more confident at this sentence, a bit more easily yourself, so you let it slip as you turn to face sakusa, joking as you say, “what? i’ve proven how cool i am in this tiny lunch?”

sakusa chuckles, breathy, before nodding affirmingly, “not exactly what i meant, but yes, that too.” he pauses, contemplating if the thing he’s about to say next is pushing a boundary, saying too much, figuring out how to phrase it before it actually comes out of his mouth. “i meant more that i understand why he talks about you all the time.”

you’re quiet, tilting your head curiously. 

he doesn’t let you sit on your thoughts, finishes his sentence right as bokuto and atsumu are running back towards the table, “because he’s really into you.”

you don’t get to respond, interrupted by bokuto hiding on one side of you, finishing whatever he’s doing on his phone before thrusting the phone back into your hands. he sticks his tongue out at atsumu and atsumu narrows his eyes. “atsumu’s just worried that he’s going to fuck up at our game when you’re there.”

this is all so cute, the bantering and the things that bokuto is saying, but you have so many fucking questions. you want them to run back over there for hours so that you can have a long, in-depth conversation with sakusa about what exactly he fucking means. 

you don’t want to seem unresponsive or like you can’t keep up, so you reply, “maybe i’ll bring maki along and he can show off like he always does.” you almost regret it, but sakusa and bokuto start laughing just like you were laughing earlier and bokuto is slamming his fist on the table and atsumu doesn’t look hurt at all, he looks amiable. 

you turn your head towards atsumu, the laughter allowing you cover to speak just for him, “or i’ll just go and cheer you on. if you’ll have me there.” atsumu gives you a short, affectionate nod. 

sakusa and bokuto leave about a half hour (that’s spent mostly making fun of atsumu the entire time) after that, saying that they’ll see you again soon, they’re sure, and waving as they leave. as soon as they’re out of earshot, atsumu lets out a huge breath. 

“i told you,” he says, shaking his head, body finally relaxed in a way that makes you realized he was tense the entire time. “i told you that they were fucking weird.”

“they’re not weird, they’re sweet,” you say back. there is a certain peacefulness now that you assume only exists because of the huge absence of noise. it’s not better, just more familiar. you slot your fingers into atsumu’s, holding onto his forearm with your other hand. 

“yea, if you’re not on the other side of all of their bullshit,” atsumu shakes his head. 

“maybe if you didn’t talk about me so much,” you tease.

“don’t let it go to your head,” he says, lifting his arm that you don’t have a hold of and tapping on your forehead. you press your forehead into him, laughing. 

the two of you sit together for another few hours, pulling work out of your bags that neither of you really focus on. you mostly spend the time cracking jokes at the other’s expense or for the other to laugh at and finding new ways to get tangled into each other on a picnic table bench until it’s time to leave.

“i’ll see you sometime tomorrow, yeah?” you ask, moving around school work and responsibilities and seeing maki in your head to make room for atsumu in your day.

he leans forward, presses the quickest, smallest kiss into the side of your cheek, “obviously.” as he leaves, the warmth stays, on your cheek and down your chest, through your fingers and toes. partially because of the kiss, sure, but mostly because of the hoodie he’s entrusted in your care. 

/++/

you are both so excited for and dreading your night alone.  you are excited because it’s been awhile since you’ve just had some time in your room by yourself. you are welcoming the extra time to catch up on assignments and take a shower and not do anything else that requires thinking. 

you are, however, despite all of this, mostly filled with dread. saturday night is a staple miya atsumu hookup night. last week it was fine, the week before that, sure, whatever, but after last night, the thought of atsumu hooking up with some random girl that he found out at a party is bringing back a familiarly upset stomach. if you hadn’t had spent the night last night as you did, a taboo listening session might even have been in the stars tonight, would have been maybe really welcomed. 

but now you’ve slept in his bed. you’ve been in his arms. you’ve been on the other side of the wall. there are memories attached to this vision of him now. when you close your eyes, you can see his room so clearly. if you had to think about them in his bed, the one that you felt safe cuddled next to him in, the one where he told you about all of his childhood friends, if you had to think of her on his pillow instead of you? 

you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will have a great night all by yourself even if that means sleeping on the farside of your room and using your noise canceling headphones at full volume.

the later it gets into the night, the more antsy you’re getting. hours are ticking by and you have never been this productive in your life, assignment after assignment finished just to stop yourself from thinking for longer than a few seconds. you won’t have to worry about school work for the next few weeks. 

it’s nearly 1 am by the time that you’ve finished all of the work that you possibly can, which, in hindsight, was such a horrible idea. finishing all of your work before the 1-3 am time of the night? 

well, maybe if you’re just not in your room when he gets back, you can just put your headphones on and not have to think about it at all tonight. you grab a change of clothes, your towel, all of your bathroom essentials, and make your way to dorm showers at the other end of the hall. 

your shower takes much longer than it should because you make sure that it does, but somewhere along the way you must have pissed someone off, something from your past must be coming back to haunt you because instead of timing it perfectly to miss him completely, you’ve timed it perfectly to catch him completely. 

he’s all dressed up, hair perfectly done in a way that begs to be messed up, stupidly cute outfit, something plain but looks insanely good on him, enough cologne to fill the entire hallway, and, only when he sees you walking down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. 

you feel extremely underdressed, walking up to him. partially on account of the fact that you are wearing a huge tshirt, underwear, and absolutely nothing else. you don’t know if he’s already been drinking, if he doesn’t notice, or if he doesn’t care, but his eyes follow down your body slowly. 

every single moment in your life has happened because of a culmination of things; this is just a fact. everything that has happened in your life up until this moment has built up to this moment, that’s how living works. you knew this. 

but god you wish you could see a chart, could zoom in on every single point that had a hand in this moment and alter them in some sort of way that wouldn’t have caused you to say what comes out of your mouth. 

you look down at your phone screen, checking the time. “woah, you hung out with me on friday and no company tonight?” you ask as you step around him and in front of your door. why would you say that. 

you know why, vaguely, not completely. you’re not completely sure why you chose to essentially divulge the biggest secret you’re harbored of your entire college career in one sentence, but you know that it had something to do with how flustered you were in that moment, how good atsumu looks in front of you, and maybe the fact that it’s all you’ve been able to think about tonight.

it slips out, really, no barrier of judgment. you guys have been friends for too long. the quips and the teasing come so naturally now that you can’t help it. 

this is the first time that you’re admitting this to him. your heart is pounding as you wait for him to respond. he’s not responding quick enough. you hope that he just doesn’t clock it, doesn’t understand the implications of the joke.

he furrows his eyebrows together, stopping completely, “what?”

your body is burning. how do you backtrack from this. where do you go from here.

when you don’t answer immediately, his mind starts filling in the blanks, and he starts asking more questions, “company?”

“yea, like,” you clear your throat, shifting your towel under your arm, “y’know saturday nights and company.”

he turns to face you completely and you feel like this is your first time meeting him. you feel small, tiny, chest aching because of the violence of your heart. even more so when you see the embarrassment creeping onto his face. “how would you know if i have company?”

this is it. the fucking moment. it’s been over 4 months. the two of you have lived next to each other for nearly an entire semester. you went 2 months without even knowing him, 1 month with fixing all of your previously conceived notions, and this past month falling for him and it’s all about to go crashing down because of a stupid joke you’ve made. 

“you weren’t exactly subtle about it,” you answer and you’re amazed at how your voice is actually audible. 

a lot of things click for atsumu in that moment, you can see it on his face. 

“you heard that?” he asks, quietly stunned.

“all of it,” you answer.

it’s quiet for a moment. you can’t even hear the hum of the lights or the beat of your own heart as you wait for his reaction to the admission. 

“fuck,” atsumu says, palm smoothing over his face, “god, i can’t recover from that at all can i? holy shit.” he doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him. he doesn’t look put off or uncomfortable. “holy shit. okay. well, fuck.”

you’re about to apologize when he shakes his head, fingers pushing through his hair. you can’t exactly read whatever emotion is there, maybe panic? you can’t get a good read because it’s gone soon thereafter. 

“no,” he says slowly, “i don’t have company tonight. was going to go out and drink with some friends, but i left my ID in my room.” he gestures to the keys in his hand, knuckles white around them. “you still alone this weekend?”

you nod, not really knowing what to do, where to go from here still. he’s not being weird. he’s trying to resume conversation with you, but something feels off. you want to say, “yea, i said i’d be alone all weekend, don’t you listen?” but any joke that comes to you feels too harsh, too out of place, terrified that it’ll end up an admission of something else.

“do you want-,” he begins to ask, but you shake your head so hard that you’re convinced you shake water droplets out of your hair and onto him. 

“no, no, are you kidding? i look like this,” you gesture down.

atsumu looks like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. fuck. you’ve really ruined things now. 

“go out with your friends,” you say, nodding your head down to the elevators. 

“we don’t have to go out,” atsumu adds.

“i’m not keeping you in on the weekend again,” you say, shifting your weight. “seriously, i’m okay alone tonight, you go on out.”

“do you want to drink?” he asks, persistent as always.

“tsumu, i told you, i’m not going out tonight,” you say. the nickname is muscle memory at this point and you’re glad that at least you have some sort of remnants of a few minutes ago. 

“just, here, we can drink here,” he gestures to his dorm room. you feel like a fucking freshman again. “if you don’t want to drink, that’s cool. i just-” he hesitates. it looks more difficult than it ever has, but he steps towards you and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “it feels weird for the first time between us and i don’t think i can leave if you’re not feeling okay,” he finishes, overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be, and you feel so horrible.

“tsumu-,” you start, but he isn’t having any of it.

“i’m serious.”

“one drink,” you say, “and then you go out with your friends.”

/++/

the thing about one drink is that nobody really has one drink. 

or, rather, you do at first and then you have another because the guy that you’re really into is in front of you, telling joke after joke trying to make you feel better about your relationship because you’ve just admitted that you’ve heard him having sex all semester.

and unfortunately for you and your self-deprecation, the guy that you’re really into is really good at making you feel better, not just with jokes and compliments, but with soft touches and genuine smiles. 

“i can’t believe you’re staying in with me when you look like that,” you say, shaking your head. you didn’t even have time to change, are still in the same post-shower outfit that you were before. 

“come on, you look better than i do,” he says, shaking his head, taking a sip of his drink and gesturing to you with his cup.

you’re sitting on his floor because the bed was a bit much after the painful conversation you had in the hallway. he’s sitting in front of you, back against his desk, as he sets his drink on the floor beside him. you let yourself flush, accept his compliment if only to fasttrack back to how it felt between the two of you before. 

the thing about more than one drink is that nobody really chooses a stopping point, not when the awkwardness has faded and the guy that you’re really into continues to stay the night with you. and definitely not when said guy has taken root next to you, pressed up against you completely. 

“fuck,” he shakes his head out of nowhere. he doesn’t even give you an opportunity to ask what, just repeats himself, louder, “fuck.”

“what?” you ask, turning to look at him, but not moving a single inch away from him.

“i can’t believe you heard all of that,” he says, shaking his head against the side of the bed. he laughs lightly, unbelievably. “that’s really just so embarrassing.”

for the first time tonight, at the mere mention of it, you don’t want to crawl into your room and cry. you’re not sure what exactly it is (it’s the alcohol), but you laugh with him, light at first, and then growing until you’re shaking your head. it is actually kinda funny. 

“it was funny at first, honestly,” you tell him, “i was like oh my god?? and then it progressively got, yknow, not as funny when i had morning classes and exams.”

“is that why we didn’t meet for the first two months of living next to each other?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. and he does, look at you, stares into your eyes with the amount of focus that someone as drunk as the two of you should not have been able to do.

“not really, more like a gift from god,” you say.

“hey,” he whines.

“yea, that night we met i was coming back from maki’s because i couldn’t take it anymore,” you admit to him. you can see the embarrassment settle in even heavier than before, a remorse coming alongside it. after all this time, you really didn’t mean for him to feel bad about it. “you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“i mean, that’s so- i can’t believe-,” he stammers. you’re not used to seeing him like this and you understand why he had to have at least one drink with you before going out, because right now atsumu is feeling exactly how you felt out in the hallway and all you want to do is fix that.

even if it is at your own expense. 

“it’s fine, really, it’s fine,” you say, “it was funny at first, and then annoying, but i mean, eventually-” don’t you fucking dare “eventually it was good for me too.” stop fucking talking.

now he looks really confused and if you don’t explain no fucking stop he’s going to be even more weirded out. 

“well, i just mean, like,” you shrug, “like eventually i started to enjoy it.” shut the fuck up. 

he chooses his next words carefully, or as carefully as he can when the room is slightly moving. “like how?”

don’t say a fucking word. “like listening,” you admit. even in your drunken state, your stomach does flips. 

his face still has tiny elements of confusion, but most of it morphs into something much needier than that. “to me?”

you nod, movements barely noticeable but they’re making your head spin. the air is still, room quiet save for both of your quickened breathing. then, the only thing you can see is his hand, moving so slowly that you assume he’s afraid he’ll scare you off. he reaches across you, cups your cheek and pulls you to face him. when you’re looking at him, he doesn’t move his hand. 

he leans in towards you and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your body or the fact that an hour ago you were terrified that you would never be able to be in this room again, but you lean forward to meet him. he stops, just shy of your lips, talking so low that you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “and doing what?” he asks.

the whimper comes from your throat, lips tightly shut so it doesn’t have a chance to escape you. you lean forward further, pressing your forehead against his as his hand slides down your cheek to your jaw, fingers spanning your neck, curling softly so that his nails drag against your sensitive skin. you can feel it in your entire body. 

he lowers his head, nudges your chin with his nose, pushing your head further into his hand, exposing your neck. “can i?” he asks, breath tickling as he speaks. you’re not sure if he realistically thought you would deny him right now of anything that he wanted, really. you nod softly, not wanting to break out of his grasp.

the first thing that you feel are his teeth, scraping against the softness of your neck. and then you feel his lips closing around the skin. you close your eyes, no point in keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, anyway. atsumu licks a strip up your neck before moving down again. he uses his free hand to pull at the neckline of your shirt, exposing your collarbones. he wraps his lips around the bone, sucking repetitively until you’re positive that there’s purplish marks wherever he picks his head up from.

his moves his hand from your jaw, trust you to keep the position that he’s moved you into, and you do. he rewards you for this, both hands smoothing down your body, following your curves, digging into them as he pleases, latheing his tongue over the same spots on your neck and chest. 

“tsumu,” you whine, not really sure for what, but just for more. his hands are on your thighs now, his fingernails pressing harshly into the fats of them before sliding upwards underneath the hem of your shirt. he can feel your skin in his hands now, can’t get enough of it as he moves his hands everywhere and anywhere he can. 

when he gets to your chest, takes both of your perfectly soft tits into his hand, you hear him stifle a grunt. he moves one hand quickly, grabbing at your hip, sliding down from your waist, pulling you towards him, facing towards him so that he can feel you again, so that he can play with your tits better. his touch is harsher this time, more desperate, more purposeful as he goes straight for your tits, no longer ghosting over your skin, but aching for your heavy tits to be in his hands. 

god, he can only imagine what they fucking look like all pretty and bouncing for him. fuck he needs to see them.

he pulls away from you, sits up from against the bed, moves in front of you. he’s on his knees, towering above you in your seated position. you’re looking up into his eyes, whimpers falling from your quivering lips. he cups your face again. you’re ready. you’re completely ready to recall every little thing that you have heard over the past month. you know atsumu, you know exactly what he likes, and you’re going to blow his fucking mind. 

knock knock knock.

just before his lips can touch yours, there’s a pounding knock on his door. 

“no fucking way,” atsumu says under his breath. 

“miya atsumu, get your ass out here now or i’m breaking down the fucking door.” knock knock knock knock knock knock. it's almost scary until you hear laughter from the hallway, snickering at first and then boisterous. 

“come on, i don’t even interrupt,” you say to atsumu, looking towards the door. 

knock knock knock knock knock knock. “we know you’re in there.”

“they’re not going to leave it alone until i answer,” he says, defeated, “i have to answer and then- then i’ll be right back and-.”

“atsumu, you have 10 seconds and i’m gonna start ramming,” the voice says.

atsumu scurries up from the floor, walking quickly over to the door as you adjust yourself, smoothing out your oversized tshirt and patting your hair. “what?” he hisses as he cracks the door open. the person on the other side of the door pushes it open completely. 

“we’re going out,” one voice says.

“another night,” atsumu says, the door already closing.

“i’m not leaving without you,” another voice replies, not pushing the door back open. 

“and i’m not leaving,” atsumu says, and you can tell he’s getting impatient now. 

from your spot on the floor, you recognize one of them as a guy from one of the photos. dark hair, carefree attitude. suna? you can’t remember exactly if you’ve gotten the name right. you’re surprised that you’ve even noticed the person at all. you don’t recognize any of the other two guys that are with him.

one of them, not suna, makes eye contact with you for the tiniest fraction of a second, “you literally have any other day to hookup with some chick.” you wonder if he thinks they’re being quiet. your cheeks burn. you want to be back in your room now. 

“it’s not like that,” ba-bump, he says, trying to quiet them a bit or at least just bringing his own volume down. 

“doesn’t matter,” one of them says.

“i didn’t want to spoil it, but,” suna says, “samu’s here.”

atsumu gets quiet for a second, really mulling over the weight of everything that’s happening, at the two sides that are pulling him in different directions. “samu’s here?”

“yeah, he was supposed to be here earlier, but his train got in super late and so he just got here and he wants to go out because it’s a saturday night. it was supposed to be a surprise or whatever, but you’re not listening to me, your best friend, and just leaving now. so that’s what you get,” suna spews.

“but i-,” atsumu says, instinctively looking back towards you. the look that you’re wearing almost makes him stay. “fuck.” he slams the door on the trio of guys and you are so grateful. you finally feel like you can breathe, can relax just the tiniest bit. he walks back over to you. “i’ve gotta-.”

you push yourself up from off of the ground, stumbling a little bit as atsumu helps you back onto your feet. “you don’t have to explain yourself, tsumu, go hang out with your friends.”

“if samu wasn’t here, i wouldn’t-.”

“i know,” you say. and it’s the truth. you 100% fully believe him with all of your heart. 

“you could go out with us,” he offers.

you’re not sure that you could handle being referred to as some chick all night or atsumu’s side piece or looked at like you’d never be looked at again. you weren’t ready for a miya atsumu night out and definitely not when you’re already feeling it as much as you are. you shake your head. “you go and have fun, see your brother.”

he looks so torn, so frantic as he tries to think out the rest of his night, how to get drunk you back to your dorm without having to expose you to the people in the hallway. “i’m probably going to stay with rin and samu tonight anyway. do you want to just stay here and maybe,” he hesitates, the knocking starts again, “you can meet my brother in the morning?”

“really?” you ask. 

knock knock knock knock. “it’s literally so getting so fucking late. hurry your ass up.”

atsumu helps you into his bed in not exactly the way he wanted to help you into bed tonight. “yes,” he answers, pulling the blankets over you, the softness of them so familiar. “and samu will love you and you will love him unfortunately.” atsumu reaches down and kisses your cheek. somehow it has you more flustered than anything that’s happened tonight. “tomorrow, okay?”

you nod. 

he moves quickly after he’s noticed how content you are, throwing on his shoes, grabbing his ID from his desk, muttering under his breath things that you’re not sure are meant for you. fucking kidding me now? gonna beat the shit out of him for fucking i can’t fucking. 

“goodnight, yn,” he says, reaching for the door, but not opening until you’ve said it back.

“goodnight, tsumu.”

you hear a click of the door, your eyes closing softly. and then you hear the voices. 

“you’re seriously leaving her in there?”

“guys- seriously,” atsumu says, trying to stop the questions about what was happening in the room before they showed up.

“why’re you leavin’ a one night stand in your-”

“i said it wasn’t fucking like that. leave it,” atsumu says through gritted teeth. you hear the lock click.

“no fucking way. that was fucking her wasnt it?” suna asks.

“stop, she can fucking hear you, the walls are thin,” atsumu snaps. 

you listen for the footsteps as they get quieter and quieter until you can’t hear any at all. you know you should be tired. you are tired, but you’re also in atsumu’s bed all alone. your eyelids are heavy and your breathing is slow and-

you reach your hand down between your legs. 

with the scenes that are playing in your mind, you’re almost sure you could make yourself come with one tiny finger. you spread your lips apart with two fingers, sliding your middle finger down your drenched slit. you push the tip of your finger against your hole, head tilting back messily into his pillow. 

he barely did anything to you at all, felt you up and kissed your neck, and you are soaking wet. your mind won’t stop wandering at where the night could have taken you if you weren’t interrupted. how deep he would be inside of you right now if you hadn’t been interrupted. at that thought, you plunge your fingers inside of you, moaning at how good they feel, but they’re not enough.

you’re missing your dildo, your fingers can’t reach deep enough, not even as you shove another finger in and circle your hips on them. you make the mistake of kneading at your tit, but it only leaves you missing the feeling of his huge hands grabbing at them. you’re feeling so fucking needy. it’s not enough that you’re doing this in his bed, you need to be doing it for him. you roll your hips against your fingers.

your clit rubs against the rough texture of the blanket and you almost come on the spot. “fuck,” you say aloud. you take your other hand on the outside of the blanket and push the fabric in between your legs, circling your hips against it. “mm fuck, tsumu.”

the blanket feels so good against you. he’s slept underneath these blankets, has probably jacked off to the thought of you underneath these blankets “fuck!” you say louder. you know exactly how loud you’re being, but you also know that no one that you care about is around to hear them. 

your hands search around the bed. you don’t have time to feel any regret. it feels so good, you’re chasing this high, so fucking close. your skin feels like it’s crawling, aching. you fucking need this. you throw the blanket off of you, take your panties off and throw them across the room somewhere that you’re sure you will regret when you have to get them in the morning, but you need to feel it completely against your swollen lips and pretty clit. 

you take the pillow that’s underneath your head and shove it between your legs. you press down on the soft pillow as hard as you can to get as much friction as you can as you fuck your clit into fabric that smells so fucking much like atsumu. you’re drenched, sloppy against his pillow but you can’t stop. your fingers grip into the cushion, his name falling off of your tongue like an unheard prayer. 

“please, so close, so close,” you say, thrusting your hips against the pillowcase faster. you’re going to come. you’re going to fucking come on the pillow that he’s going to sleep on. “oh my fucking god,” you cry and you let yourself go, flooding as you come against his pillow. you can feel the mess that you’ve made smearing against the textured fabric.you can’t move. your bones feel like they’ve been replaced with bricks, but you need to see it. you pull the pillow up, your eyes instantly drawn to the large wet spot right in the center. fuck. you throb, so painfully empty. “fuck,” you mutter to yourself and put the pillow back between your legs, “not enough.”

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[yet-another-haven-of-dollya]

i was catching up on your blog, and honestly your, or well, your PCs' opinion abt Sydney is so fascinating to me. when i first played the game for real (after trying to previous times and ending up in the forest being raped by wolves and kidnapped by Eden without knowing wtf was going on, and then my second try ending up in a rape cycle that ended in the asylum) i started pursuing Sydney for the first time, thinking that she'd be like every other goody-two-shoes uninteresting character that is usually a part of dating games, the stereotype that fails to interest me no matter what. then i found out i could corrupt her, and i decided to make her "fall from grace" together with my PC, and the more i interacted w her the more and more i fell in love w her character, to the point that my PC became as obsessed w her as she is with him

Sydney might honestly be my favorite LI, so to find someone who doesn't like them v much is quite the interesting experience lol. i think the part that most called my attention is the privilege part of their character that you brought up, and i think that stuck w me mostly bc i never truly saw Sydney's "privilege" like that. Sydney never gave me the impression that they were completely oblivious to everything and anything wrong that happens in the world just bc it doesn't affect them - quite the opposite, actually

Sydney isnt immune to the world they live in, not a single character in this game is (which is why i love it sm tbh). they might be extremely sheltered and protected as much as Sirris and the temple are able to make them, but when you pray w them in the temple and someone comes by to harass you she knows exactly what is happening and how to stop it. she's probably been harassed by monks and nuns as well, and unable to fight back without losing her grace. that's without even going into the Leighton punishment event, and how they react to it, which i think gives a v good view into how they cope w the world they live in depending on whether they are pure or corrupted and how that affects their interactions w PC...

ok im just rambling now, my point is, Sydney is a very interesting and complex character to me and seeing your interpretation of them was really interesting/insightful, and gave me some answers to things in your PCs' story that i used to question but always forgot to send an ask abt (such as their distaste for Sydney). thanks for reading my ramble, i love the things you're doing w your PCs and how you interpret their world <3

-smthishunting

Just in case you still don't understand the nature of the situation, the "privileged" part can be translated into "ENVY"

Sydney has had good things growing up. PC has nothing of those, which I have mentioned. "Why can they be optimistic? Why can they believe in the good in people? Why their parent doesn't demand they rent every week? Why do they have parents but I and Robin don't? Why can't I and Robin have those things that they have?..."

It's bitter, but I firmly believe, just like a redeemed bully can never achieve true peace, a sheltered child growing up with a silver spoon inside their mouth can never understand poverty and desperation either. Something bad happens to them, but they have family and financial support to overcome it, that's why they can stay pure and stay good. Robin stays ignorant too, they essentially avoid the outside world completely and if PC doesn't step up to protect them, they're ruined. That's what happens with pureness and goodness if they bloom in mud, unprotected. That's what happens on a daily basis with the children of the orphanage.

That's why my PCs are Robin's protectors. I make them taste the bitterness when realizing some things even try as they might, they can never achieve, while Sydney has those things handed to them, lovingly and matter-of-factly, as easily as falling to sleep in a soft fluffy bed. To me, that's what makes them even more protective of their waifu/malewife and more determined to shelter Robin as much as possible. They strive to give Robin what Sydney's having, their childhood together sucks so yeah let's try hard for a better future :D

As for Sydney... Well, unless future updates give them some trauma, throw them into some real fuck up situation like what PC faced daily, or reveal that they had some beef with Harper in the past and had lifelong psychological trauma, I don't think I can give them more credit.

[honouredsatoru]

pornstar!satosugu with neighbors you : you were that cute little thing that lived next door and that got them so riled up they could barely go a day of work without fucking a costar to the thought of you.

when they get you you go through a series of events in which you get godlike sex ?? the thing is they forget that you're not built like them and it shows most when they decide to bet on which one can make you cum the most ??? they'll have you fucked out on the bed, desperate to be freed because you think that if the keep going you'll die but they're not stopping because they keep on one upping the other ??

like you're shaking, pussy throbbing and still processing your previous orgasm when you see geto kneel in front of the bed because he's about eat you out AFTER GOJO JUST REARRANGED YOUR GUTS ??? and when you cum, he's not done, he's between your thighs plowing your cervix and your sweet spot so much, you won't walk for a few days. when you try and run away from his dick, he grabs you by the ankles and slams you against his cock ??

"stop. fucking. moving. I'm not done with your little cunt, princess. you'll give me one more and then I'll see. but that pussy stays stuffed until i say otherwise. don't make me spank you, you dirty little cockslut."

and you shake harder, feeling so exposed when gojo gets closer, watching his best friend fuck you raw and rough.

"look at what you're doing to her suguru, fucked her so stupid shes running away from you like her pussy wasn't creaming all over you. she's adorable ain't she ?? can't even think straight"

I... don't know who you are but all I can say is, I love this so much. Oh my god. Pornstar!satosugu who can't stop stuffing you with their girthy, veiny cocks, your neck and chest filled with love bites and marks, as they fucked you one last time, for the night by the way, they unloaded their cum all over you, focusing on your face and your tummy. Once they are done, these two just sit back to admire their work of art as you laid on the mattress, like the breathlessly sweet fuck doll you are. And for the next few days, they take good of you, babying their favourite beautiful, precious neighbour.

Ohhh. If your body is much smaller than theirs, I can see them developing a size kink because of you. Who knows? They might even move you in with them, keeping you to themselves.

p/s : sooooo sorry for this extremely late answer to you, anon 😭 i remember asking people to send me tokyo rev/jjk smut asks. im finally back-ish?? now the jjk2 is close to coming out and i am close to my semester break.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 47

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: hi again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You give up on escape. You don't want to upset Loki any more than he already is. You go back to the bed and sit against the headboard as you think. It would be a lot easier if you weren't here so why has he locked you in? 

The laptop continues to play the show you've lost track of. You wring your hands and close your eyes, skull pulsing as your nose throbs. The smell of grass and snarling grunts fill your head and you force your eyes open. You're in that room, not there…

You reach over to the cell phone on the night table and bring up Loki's conversation. 

“May I have some water?” You send the text and sigh. He said if you need anything, to ask.

You wait, not certain if he's seen the message or even if he'll answer your request.

Some minutes pass as you examine your palm, tracing the lines listlessly. You might be waiting for nothing. It feels like you've been doing that all your life.

You slump down and mindlessly stare at the laptop. You run your fingertips lightly over your bruises and the thin cuts on your arms. The movement raises goosebumps on your skin.

You might take a bath, it might calm you. Maybe that's what you need. You can't figure out what exactly that is, just warmth, just... certainty.

You sit up but stop yourself as you hear the lock click. You glance over as the door opens little by little. Loki enters, gingerly balancing a tea cup in one hand.

"I forgot," he says as he speaks quietly, "I thought perhaps you might be sleeping."

"Oh, uh, thanks," you turn your legs over the edge of the bed and fold your hands one over the other. You watch him place the cup and saucer on the night table.

"Not at all, my pleasure," he assures, taking a pointed step back as he faces you. "Are you hungry? Or perhaps you require another blanket--"

"Why did you lock the door?"

He blinks and raises his chin. For once, he doesn't have an answer ready. He looks at the door then back to you.

"To keep you safe," he replies as if it's obvious.

"I am... aren't I? It's just us--"

"It is only an extra measure. Last night..." he trails off, his green eyes flitting back and forth, "we needn't talk of it but we know now we can never be too safe."

You frown, "but... but you don't need to lock me in--"

"I must," he insists and throws his hands up, marching away, "if you only require tea, then I must return to my work."

"Loki," you stand, "I want..." you hesitate, "I want you to lay down. You don't need to work. You need to rest."

"Me?" He presses his hand to his chest, "I'm quite well, thank you."

You shake your head, "I don't think--"

"I will be back again to check on you," he dismisses as he spins away, "enjoy the tea."

Before you can argue further, he's gone. The door snaps shut behind him and you rush forward. The lock loudly grinds into place and you wiggle the handle.

"Loki," you slap the door, "please..."

You hear his footsteps on the other side, walking away from your pleas. You huff and let your forehead rest against the wood. What is wrong with him?

✨

After a long but unsoothing soak in the tub, you return to bed. You put on a movie, and lay on your side as you curl up. You don't know what else to with yourself. You don't have the energy to bang or holler at the door.

The windows darken and cast a haze over you, adding to the darkness creeping through the silent house. You wish it would just be over. That he'd stop feeling sorry for you and just send you off. The only reason he hasn't is because you look like a beat cat. You saw yourself in the mirror, you are pathetic.

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. The lock once more ticks. You lift your head as Loki enters. This time, with a tray. He places it on the dresser then comes to take your empty cup.

"Dinner, pet," he announces.

You sit up, leaning on the heels of your hands, "have you eaten?"

"Don't worry for me," he chimes in a shallow tone, "you must eat."

You push yourself straight and cross your arms, "will you eat with me?"

"I'm not hungry," he clinks the cup on the saucer.

"You should eat anyway--"

"I have," he interjects so quickly he must be lying.

"Loki," you stand and once more he's on the retreat.

"Please," you step closer and he evades you. "Why are you doing this? What did I do?"

He stops, just by the door. He clutches the cup tightly.

"You did nothing," he says, "and I should've done more."

He turns without another word, before you can think of any response, and leaves you to ponder his cryptic statement. You sigh and listen for the lock. Click. You look over at the tray of food.

There's enough for two there. More than. If he'd just come back, you'd share it with him and you could talk. 

If you weren't so afraid of talking, maybe life wouldn't be like this. If you'd been braver with your dad, asked him why he didn't love you, asked him what you could've done to make him. You think you're done being quiet.

Your stomach growls loudly as the scent of the pasta tugs at your nose. You near the dress and consider the heaping plate. It was nice of him but he shouldn't have to keep you like a mouse in a cage.

✨

Loki returns to gather your unfinished dinner. He doesn't linger, once more abandoning you to silence. You lay in bed, alone. He doesn't return.

The morning arrives and you get up to look out the window. You take in the greenery below, longing to sit among it. You open the pane as far as it will go and let in the scent of pollen and dew. The song of birds only has you distraught. You’ve never felt more desolate.

You shut the window and go back to bed. You’re exhausted. You can’t worry anymore. Not about him or even you. The dread is eating you up. You can’t fight the inevitable. So you’ll just let it happen. You give up.

You cocoon yourself in the blankets and close your eyes. You drift into a vague sleep. You hear the door and Loki’s voice but pretend to be asleep. You don’t want to talk to him when you won’t get much of a response. He can just get it over with already or leave you alone.

You slip back into unconsciousness. When you wake again, there’s a cup of cold tea and porridge waiting for you. You eat the gummy oats in stale milk and sip the tea. You roll back into the thick duvet and cling to the only escape you have; sleep.

The day passes in that pattern. You wake to nothing at all or a glass of water, a clementine, a turkey sandwich… The only marker of time is the hue leaking in through the window. The night welcomes you kindly into darkness and you sleep deeper than before. 

Another morning. Your head aches. You can’t sleep anymore. You can’t keep hiding in the blackness.

You moan and watch the sunlight on the ceiling. Loki lets himself in, the click of the lock announcing his arrival. He puts a cup of tea on the nightstand.

“Good morning,” he greets.

You don’t answer. He stands straight and peers down at you as you ignore his gaze. He hovers.

“Would you like me to draw you a bath?” He asks.

You blink and stay silent. You refuse to move.

“Pet…” he says tentatively.

You roll your back to him, “leave me alone.”

You hear him inhale but he keeps from his retort. He hums and clucks. His footsteps trail away from you, the door shutting gently right before the lock slides into the slot. If he’s going to lock you up, you’ll do the same. You’ll lock it all inside.

You don’t touch the tea. You get up to sit by the window and watch the cardinal soar in red smears in and out of the trees. Blue jays hop along branches and grackles peck at the grass. You cup your chin and lean on the window ledge as you imagine yourself out there.

The sun reaches its peak but Loki doesn’t show. Good. At least you understand each other. Your stomach growls but you ignore it. You go into the bathroom and draw another bath. You bask in the heat and emerge, less than refreshed as the grimness remains.

You knot a towel above your chest and stand at the mirror to change the bandages on your nose. The doctor told you how before he set his attention on Loki. You do your best to remember what he said. You finish, nose thrumming.

You go into the bedroom and stop short. Loki’s there at the foot of the bed. He looks at you as you enter. There’s some stubble around his jaw and his hair is uncombed.

“You are upset,” he says.

You shrug and cross your arms.

“You should be, I failed you,” he begins, “my brother…”

“Not that,” you say. “Loki, let me out.”

He leans back on his heel and peers over at the door. He returns his gaze to you, eyes narrowing. His jaw clenches and his throat tightens.

“Why?” He asks, “you’re safe here.”

You heave, “I’m tired. You need to let me go. You don’t want me and I don’t want this. I don’t want to be stuck inside forever. I don’t want to be a burden anymore…”

“You can’t go,” he shakes his head, “why… you think I don’t want you?”

You sniff and gulp tightly, “I’ll be okay. I’m feeling better and you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“I want you,” he says.

“No you don’t. You barely look at me. You leave me here all alone. You won’t sleep beside me, you won’t let me touch you. That’s what we agreed to, or maybe I misunderstood.”

He lowers his chin and sucks in his cheeks. He shifts on his feet and flutters his fingers at his side. He’s silent as you wait for his final word. Go, get out, leave.

“Loki!” You scare yourself as your voice rises, “you have to talk to me. You can’t do this. You can’t keep me here and just ignore me. You can’t… keep me in this prison.”

“Pet…” he murmurs, “I have to… I have to…”

“I can’t– I can’t do this. If you won’t tell me to go, then I’ll just go,” you warble, shaking, “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

You go to the dresser and hastily grab clothes. You look at them, all you need is a top and a bottom, you must have some shoes on the mat. You storm towards the door but he catches your arm and spins you back, inserting himself in your path.

“Loki,” you clutch the clothing to your chest as you rip away from him. You back up, facing him as he blocks the door. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do this.”

He startles you as suddenly he’s charging at you. You stumble back, dropping the clothing as you backpedal away from him. Your heart lodges in your throat as flames lick in his irises. You hit the door frame as he corners you by the wall. 

His hands come up to frame your face and he leans in to kiss you. You squeak as his nose brushes your painfully and he grips you tightly, urging his tongue between your lips. You touch his arm, squeezing it as he devours you.

His urgency is terrifying. His arm loops around you as he presses himself against you, crushing you to the wall. He enshrines you and you hit the dresser as he throws you off balance. He staggers with you as you bounce off the wood. He keeps you against him, clinging to your lips as he moves blindly around the room.

You hit the footboard then the bedpost, grunting into his mouth as breathes you in. He stops you at the side of the bed and lifts you off your feet, breaking away to toss you onto the bed. You cry out as he crawls onto you, penning you in as he holds himself above you. He pants down at you as you writhe and whine.

“Loki…” you gasp.

“I want you,” he repeats, “I want you. You are mine,” he lowers himself to kiss your lips again, “all mine,” he pecks your cheek, “you belong to me.” His lips make a path along your jaw and down your neck.

You squirm as he covers you in kiss, tickling down your neck and across your shoulders. The towel slackens and falls open as he pins you down, your knees splayed around his. His fingertips brush along your skin as he dotes on every inch. Just along your chest as he follows the curve of it.

You look down at his dark hair, hanging in a disarray of coil. You clutch the blankets beneath you and murmur. He stops and flips back his locks, looking at you. His gaze gleams with desperation. His hand frames one side of your chest and his eyes cling to yours as he slowly leans down to kiss the swell of your breast.

“I will show you how I want you,” he rasps.

[radiant-reid]

So I always wanted a scene where Reid keeps going home right after work and the BAU is sick of him being all anti-social and skipping out on team dinners/happy hour and stuff so they knock on his door to literally drag him out for a fun night and he answers but his gf is in his apartment and the BAU can clearly tell that they were just having sex and they're all so shook

you want a scene ?? i'll write you a scene

"I'm worried about him," Penelope says, leaning against Spencer's desk as she inconspicuously looks over his things for some sign of what he's been doing.

"Baby girl, don't worry about him," Morgan tells her, ready to leave the office for the bar. "He never comes out anyway."

She shakes her head adamantly, looking at JJ for support. "Normally he comes out, even just to drink apple juice."

"Maybe he had plans." Emily offered in his defense.

They were all thinking the same thing about why he might have been sneaking home early. Any change in his behavior triggered that response, and none of them had seen one like that until recently.

"If it makes you feel better, we can go by his place, see what he's doing?" JJ offers, squeezing her concerned friend's arm.

"That would make me feel better, and I'd be able to enjoy my Mai Tai if I know he's okay." She agrees.

The drive back into DC doesn't have the usual rush hour traffic, and they arrive at Spencer's apartment building together with the tension in the air, and the concern for what state Spencer's in, they silently make their way up to his apartment.

Penelope knocks on the door, desperate to relieve her worries.

~

A knock on the door is not what you and Spencer are expecting so soon. Thankfully, you're both dressed- unlike half an hour ago-

You frown at him, watching him hang his suit jacket up since it was dumped on the floor almost as soon as he got in.

"Pizza?" Spencer suggests.

It must be. You're not expecting anyone else tonight.

You get out of his bed, tugging the shirt of his that you borrowed out of his closet down. "I'll get drinks." You tell him, walking to the kitchen.

Spencer nods, grabbing his wallet from his pants and following you out of his bedroom to the door. "Uh, hey." You hear him say, confused that it doesn't sound related to pizza.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you make your way out into the living room to see what's going on. Instead of it just being Spencer in the room, it's four other people you recognize from various photos throughout his apartment.

All four of them send looks between you and Spencer, clearly having made some correct assumptions. It's not hard to when Spencer's cheeks are bright red and he's shifting his weight on his feet. You look guilty too, even just from what you're wearing and the embarrassed expression on your face because you know they know.

"So, you're okay, and we should go," JJ speaks first, looking like she wants to run out of there.

"He's more than okay." Emily giggles, raising her eyebrows at both of you.

Morgan holds his fist out to Spencer as a form of congratulations, and your dorky boyfriend wraps his hand around it.

"Uh, so, guys?" Spencer trails off, looking past them at the door like he's prompting them to leave. Penelope pouts and somehow, Spencer knows how to interpret that. "Everyone, this is Y/n. Y/n, these are my annoying, interpreting friends." He introduces you. He speaks again after another look from Penelope. "Yes, she's my girlfriend."

The blonde squeals before she can help herself. "Tell me you're bringing her to Rossi's. You have to." She insists before looking at you. "Tell me you're coming to Rossi's tomorrow."

"Sure, if you leave now." Sassy Spencer comes out, and you avoid a giggle. With his threat, and the fact they didn't know you were already scheduled to come, they left, sending waves to you and you shyly wave back, aware that tomorrow night was going to be interesting.

[littlespacereader]

Can I request cg!spiderpunk with spidey! little reader who starts having accidents in littlespace and she's rlly embarrassed cause she's a hero? Thanks! Feel free to ignore!

Heck no I’m not gonna to ignore!! I absolutely LOVE this idea!! This is such a huge issue a Regressor superhero might have! Trying to save the world but what if you need someone to save your world?! What if an accident happens while fighting crime?! I couldn’t love this idea more! So I hope you enjoy this fic! Feel free to send me another idea!!

The Little Spidey

Caregiver! Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) & Spidey Fem Little! Reader

Tags: an accident, pull-ups, fighting, stuffies, hiding/reveal of regression, sippy cups, stuffie,hurt&comfort

Nicknames: darling, sweet one, love

Alright let’s do this one last time.

My name is Y/N L/N. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for 3 years I’ve been the one and only Spider-Girl.

Thats is, until I realized there’s a whole multiverse full of different Spider people! Recently I became a part of this Spider-verse, which had its ups and downs.

My universe was completely different from everyone else’s, which took some getting used to. In my universe Age Regession was a normal every day thing for people. It wasn’t shamed at or thought of the wrong way.

I’m one of the age regressors in my universe. I regress really young so on missions I usually wear a pull-up, just in case I begin to regress or can’t find a bathroom in time. And trust me, with the long hours of crime fighting, this has come in handy on numerous occasions.

My suit is designed by yours truly. It has a special feature that wearing a bulky pull-up or diaper isn’t shown. It just looks like a normal Spidey suit. I carry a backpack with me at all times with supplies for myself and some extra gear for missions.

Because regression it wasn’t mainstream in most of the other universes, I kept it to myself. That way I wouldn’t have to embarrass myself infront of the other Spideys. There were some universes where regression was just a normal every day thing like mine but those were rare to find, and it was hard to ask incase the answer was no.

After joining, I quickly became friends with Hobie and Pav, my two best friends. The three of us would travel to different universes and kick some butt together! We really worked well as a team!

Pav always strikes me as a Regressor. But I never have the courage to ask him in fear of him asking me if I’m one.

I often visited Earth-50101 to see Pav and spent time in Mumbattan. But I spend most of my time with Hobie in Earth-138 London.

Hobie and I are the closest. He made me feel welcomed the moment I joined the group. Miguel and Jess can be a bit intimidating at times, but Hobie always takes me under his wing.

He makes me feel comfortable and he never lets anyone yell or order me around. He’s a very free spirited freedom fighter. In London I watched his concerts with his band and in my universe we got ice cream together. He’s versatile.He also has the coolest Spidey moves with his guitar! It’s sick!!

He introduced me to Pavitr. Now the three of us hang out all the time! And when we’re not hanging out we’re fighting crime together!

Despite our close friendship I’ve kept my regression hidden from them. When they come over I just hide all my little gear and when we’re out I fight my hardest not to regress.

So with my regression under wraps I continue to fight crime now not only in Queens, NY but in the multiverse as well! Nothing can go wrong!…….Or so I thought.

~~~

Today was my day off, if that’s even possible for a Spidey. I decided today I’m going to regress and relax the rest of the evening. Hobie is practicing with his band, Pav is on a date with his girlfriend and my watch hasn’t gone off with a new mission. So I’m taking a me day.

I ran to my bed room and grabbed the box from underneath. I ripped the box open and grabbed my favorite stuffie and pacifier immediately. Then I had a choice of sippy cup: am I feeling princess or hearts today? Ummmmmmmm…….hearts!

With my things in hand, I walked into the kitchen. As I washed and filled my sippy cup I started to ramble off everything that’s been going on to my stuffie. Gotta let him know all the juice crime fighting details.

Then I made my way to the couch, plopping infront of the tv to watch hours and hours of cartoons. And hours and hours and hours…..

I woke up some time later to the buzzing of my watch. I quickly jumped up and spit my pacifier out before answering.

“Y/N! Where have you been? We been trying to contact you.” Jess aka Spider-Woman yelled at me.

“Sorry I was asleep after a long day. What’s up?”

“We got another anomaly. Suit up we’ll be there soon to pick you up.” And with that the call hung up.

Be there soon?!?!?!

I immediately started to shove everything under my couch or in the couch cushions. Then I ran into my bedroom to get changed fast! I quickly suited up but not without pausing in my bathroom.

I forgot a pull-up, how stupid of me let me just-

Suddenly I heard a portal open in my living room. “Y/N! Where you at?” Hobie yelled out.

I eyed the pull-up and then the door. It’s okay, it probably won’t be a long mission anyway. Just in and out and I’ll be back before I know it. I’m totally not feeling Little in the slightest so I should be fine without protection. Wait who am I lying to?

With that little pep talk I stormed out of my bathroom, grabbing my back pack on the way, and greeted everyone in my living room. There stood Jess and Hobie ready for the next mission.

“How was practice?”

Hobie rolled his eyes, “Don’t get me started! What practice? I was two second from going on when these guys called.”

“Don’t they know you’re trying to be an artist!” I said all dramatically.

He laughed and smirked, “Oh darling don’t you know? I’m already an artist.”

“Come on you two, we got a mission to complete.” Jess redirected.

The three of us set our watches to Earth-3624 and then we took off into the portal.

~~~

The mission is simple, or should I say was simple. There was a Doctor Octopus found in the wrong universe. We were tasked with finding him and sending him to the right Earth. Only problem is he was somewhere in the middle of NYC. So we had all of NYC to find him…just the four of us…looking for one person…in all of NY.

If you’re saying to yourself “Wow that sounds impossible” you’re totally right.

The night began to drag on and on and on. I was exhausted from the constant searching for hours on end. It didn’t help I was also fighting myself from regressing. But as the night dragged on it seemed Doctor Octopus was winning and I was losing.

My regression nagged at me every single moment. All I wanted to do was find a place to curl up, grab my pacifier and take a nap. But I couldn’t! Not now! I had a job to do!

What didn’t help the most was the nagging feeling of needing to go to the bathroom. I know what you’re thinking and you’re right, I should’ve gone before I left. But I was in a rush! I didn’t even know I had to go! Now I’m sitting on the roof squirming every two seconds.

Everything was so frustrating! I’m stuck on some stupid Earth looking for stupid Doctor Octopus in the middle of the stupid night!!…..Okay, maybe my regression was kicking in more than I thought it was.

“Hey,” Hobie swung up onto the roof I was sitting on. “How’s the search going?”

“It’s going.” I said a bit frustrated. “How about you?”

“About the same.” Hobie said, sitting on the edge of the roof next to me.

“I can’t believe they got us working this ridiculous mission. You think Miguel and Jess could just handle this on their own. But noooooo. Instead they pull the two of us in the middle of the night to try and find this wackjob.” I ranted away.

“That’s right Y/N! Stick it to the man! Let that frustration out.” Hobie smirked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I started to squirm in place a bit. I crossed my arms infront of my chest in an effort to mask it.

Hobie eyed me curious but didn’t say anything about it. “I know Jess is searching on the upper east side. I just wanted to join you midtown and make sure you’re doing alright.”

“I’m doing okay. Tired but okay.” I tried to reassure him. But I felt as though he could see right through me. Before he said another word I changed the subject.

“I don’t understand how we’re supposed to find Doc Oct in all of New York.” I said dramatically.

Hobie laughed. “Yeah, what do they expect? Him to come to us?”

The moment those words left Hobie’s mouth we both felt it, our Spidey sense. Of course we jinxed ourselves.

We flipped backward and just out of range for a giant sign that was flying towards us. I landed back on the roof and looked over to an adjacent building. There, standing bold as ever was none other than Doctor Octopus.

“Hello Peters.” He smirked.

Hobie swung over first. “Yeah you’re wrong on both fronts mate.” He swung his guitar at him, landing a nice blow sending the Doctor backwards.

“Once you go against one Spider-Man you go against them all.” He swung his arms again, this time hitting Hobie and sending him backwards.

Now I stepped up, running up, casting my webs and swinging full force towards the doctor. I managed to wrap one of his arms up, but while I did he grabbed me with another. With my leg trapped in his claw, he leaned back and threw me to the roof of a building next to him.

The back of my head hit the ground hard and for a moment I was seeing stars. I was drifting, I wanted to get up and help but my body just wouldn’t let me. I started to fade into darkness for a moment. Both in and out of consciousness.

It was at this time my regression decided to give in. Choosing for itself that it needed to regress more than anything else. What tipped it over the most was the warm feeling I started to feel between my legs. Tears started to fall from my eyes as I realized I was having an accident.

Then came the float gates. My regression wrapped around me like a warm blanket, trying to comfort me in a time of pain and embarrassment. I just want to go home. I don’t want to be here with my wet suit and headache! I just want to go to sleep with my stuffie at home, my pacifier and my pull-up.

I shut my eyes, not wanting more tears to escape. I had to get up, I had keep fighting. What kind of hero would o be if I couldn’t.

“Y/N? Hey! Y/N! Are you okay?” Hobie’s voice echoed in the background. I could hear his footsteps as he ran over to me.

Oh no. Nonononono!

Hobie and I caught eyes the moment I opened mine. He saw everything already. How could I explain the puddle beneath me or the tears streaming down my face?! I’m supposed to be a hero, someone who takes care of others. But I can’t even take care of myself.

There Hobie stood, not disgusting or confused, but worried and concerned about me. “Awwww sweet one-.”

“I’m fine.” I said with a cracking voice. Tears still fell from my eyes as embarrassment filled me.

I tried to sit up fast but he stopped. “Wow wow wow there darling you might have a concussion. Easy does it, easy now.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and helped me to sit up slowly.

He sat beside me, letting me lean on him for support.

I tried my hardest to talk between crying, “ I-I can explain…it just…just-”

“You’re a Little? I figured as much. No need to worry yourself with worries. You’re okay, it’s all okay love. I’ll take care of everything.” He said plain as day.

Maybe it was the concussion. “What?” Was all I managed to say.

“You know, on my Earth everyone knows about regression. It’s more common than you would think. Plenty of Earths know about regression, even if they aren’t as open about as our Earth’s are.” He went on to explain.

“But all of that doesn’t matter right now. Right now we need to get you changed and padded. Then we need to take care of you and your concussion.” Hobie threw his guitar to his back and lifted me bridal style into his arms.

“Wait.” I tried to say.

“What?” He raised an eye brow.

“Don’t we have to get the bad guy?”

“The bad guy? First off, I don’t listen or do what anyone tells me, especially Jess or Miguel. Second off, I already too care of that for us.” He gestured to the roof across from us. There all webbed up stood Doctor Octopus.

“I already phoned Jess who’s on her way to take care of the boring details. I say we get a move on before she starts ask questions we’re not going to answer.” He explained.

After a moment I nodded my head, wrapping my arms around his neck. With the click of his watch Hobie and I were soaring into another portal.

Before I even realized it we were back in my apartment. Hobie walked us into my bathroom, setting me down on the counter top. Then he began to search around.

“Where are your pull-ups at Y/N?” He asked searching under the sink.

To be honest, I was still in shock from this day. Blame it on the concussion but I couldn’t even fathom that this is even happening.

As I watched him raid my bathroom I spoke up, “What are you doing?”

“I just told you I’m looking for your pull-ups.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He stood up and walked back over to me, “Because we need to get you changed before you get a rash or worse.”

I stared at him, still in disbelief. “Why are you doing this for me? How come you don’t think this is weird and why are you being so-.”

He immediately stopped that train of thought by holding my hand in his. “Hey, hey hey. No more worrying about big thoughts okay? Like I said earlier, regression is something I’m familiar with. I’m happy you have an escape from this life as a Spidey. It’s a safe and healthy coping mechanism. I don’t find you or any of this weird. More than anything I want to take care of you.”

“You don’t see me as a weak Spidey because I’m a Little?” I asked, still a bit insecure.

“A weak Spidey?! Hell no!!” He shook his head. “Do you think Pav is a weak Spider-Man?”

I looked at him confused but shook my head no.

“That makes two of us. Pavirt is a Little too. He regresses around the same age as you. Doesn’t matter if you regress, you’re still a Spidey. Don’t get me wrong, I love Pav and I take care of him from time to time when he regresses. But his girlfriend tends to him most the time, I’m just the babysitter. But there’s something special about you. You bring out a side of me that I didn’t know I had.”

He sighed, “I realized early on you were probably a Little, so I kept a careful eye on you. Before you, I was still the cool artist you see before you today. But I was always missing something…something amazing. And I realized that amazing something was you. Without or without your regression. I think you’re truly amazing.”

He leaned forward and took my hand in his, “If you’ll have me, I’d like to take care of you whenever you’re regressed. That way you have someone watching out for you and taking care your needs. I can see you regress pretty young so you’re gonna need a careful eyes watching your trouble maker self.” He smirked.

“So…what do you say?” He asked.

I honestly couldn’t believe my ears. Hobie wants to be my Caregiver?! Also Pav is a Little?!! But mostly, Hobie the “coolest, mysterious, rule breaker” Brown wants to be my Caregiver?!

In disbelief yet happy beyond belief, I smiled and squeezed his hand. “Yes. I’d love for you to be my Caregiver.”

Hobie smirked and squeezed my hand back. “Trust me darling the honor is all mine.”

“But first and foremost let’s get you changed out of that wet suit and into something more comfortable. Now for the final time where are your pull-ups at?” He said dragging the last part out.

“They’re in my backpack.” I shrugged it off and handed it to him.

Hobie took the backpack from me and started to take all the supplies he needs out.

“So you don’t think I’m gross?” I asked, still anxious about the whole accident.

“Nope. You’re a younger Little. Happens all the time. It’s no big deal at all.” He said as if it was nothing. But he’s right, it really is nothing. It’s just an accident. “Alright let’s get you changed darling.”

Hobie helped me take my suit off. He grabbed me a fresh pair of pjs and a new pull-up then proceeded to change me into both.

“There,” he stood back admiring his work. “All nice and cozy!” He picked me up and carried me into the living room. “See? Nothing to worry about. It’s as if it never happened.”

I hugged him tightly in his arms, “Thank you.”

He smirked, “This is just the beginning.”

He carried me over to the couch and set me down. “Hold on, who’s this?” He pulled my stuffie from the couch cushion. “Y/N you didn’t tell me you had a friend over. Introduce to your mate.”

“Hobie this is (your fav stuffie name).” I said introducing the two.

“Pleasure to meet ya.” He said, shaking the stuffies hand. I started giggling.

“Now, I want you resting on this couch. I’m going to get you some juice and a cold compress for your head, okay?”

The moment Hobie left I immediately started to miss him. He’s only been my Caregiver for not even 5 minutes and I’m already so attached to him. Plus he wasn’t even that far! He’s literally just in the kitchen.

Luckily he returned soon, sippy cup of juice in one hand, and a damp towel in the other. “Alright sweet one sit up for a second,” he sat down on the couch and pulled me into his lap. “There we are.”

He laid the towel on my forehead which felt sooooooo nice! He handed me the sippy cup before he grabbed the tv remote. “Alright let’s see what your earth has on the telly.”

I always thought that as Spider-Girl I had to be the one taking care of everyone else, but Hobie made me realized what I needed more than anything was someone to take care of me too.

I haven’t felt safe like this in a long time. Just leaning against him, watching some mindless show on the television and feeling safe and cared for. I curled into his side and rested my head on his shoulder. He leaned forward and placed a kiss to my head.

We stayed like that the whole night, just Little Spidey and Caregiver Spidey.

[lambertdiary]

Same Mistakes

Anon requested: Dalton cheats on reader and she doesn't know but she notices their relationship is coming to an end cause he's acting weird and distant, then when she finds out and confronts him about it he begs her to stay.

A/N: As we all know I'm stupid and now my inbox is gone, but I started working on this request before I deleted it and I'm like 85% sure that's what the request said. If this is your request please let me know if this is what you wanted!! Thanks for requesting, I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 5.2k+

Warnings: angst, cheating, language, heated arguments, brief mentions of sex

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

She had a bad feeling but she was too scared to look into it, terrified she would be right. 

Truth is, she started feeling like that just a few weeks ago, when she went back to Dalton’s dorm to surprise him with lunch and found an empty room and the bed unmade from somebody sleeping on it. Any other day that would’ve been completely normal, but she had stayed with him the night before and made the bed as soon as they both got up to get ready for class, leaving a perfectly made bed for them to come back to. 

Before that day, she would’ve never in a million years thought that Dalton would cheat on her. He had always been so loving and caring, even before they started dating, and once they became a thing he would constantly remind her how much he loved her, and on special days he was the most romantic person ever, and she always thought that she would spend the rest of her life with him, but now… she didn’t wanna think about it, but she couldn’t bury the thought of him with someone else after it crossed her mind briefly while looking at the messy bed.

Later that day she asked him about it, trying hard not to sound like she was accusing him of something, but his excuse just made her feel worse, her suspicions growing.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he inspected his bed, unsure of what was wrong with it. 

“Well, you know, I made the bed this morning before we left, remember?”

“Oh, uh- yeah, I came back to- to take a nap” He stuttered, not even looking at her. 

But it kept happening, a few more times.

Things started to change after that. He cancelled on the plans they had, he suddenly was too busy every afternoon and her presence might be a distraction, he was so tired at night he didn’t have the energy for anything and he even asked her to go back to sleep in her own dorm, claiming the beds were too small to comfortably fit two people, even though they were used to sleeping together.

Long story short he was distant, he was never around anymore and even when he was, she felt like she was missing him. He was just… different, and she was beating herself up wondering what had changed.

He on the other hand didn’t miss her, seeing he didn’t make an effort anymore and he could go days without answering a text or returning a call, ​​and it was not because Y/N took a long time to reply, she would always respond in a heartbeat if it was him. If it weren’t for her visiting his dorm every now and then to make sure he was doing okay, they wouldn’t talk to each other at all.

But today she was feeling hopeful. It was their anniversary and they had a date night planned, a date he didn’t cancel, so she took the entire afternoon to do her nails, her hair and pick a beautiful dress to wear. Her makeup took her a while but she still managed to be ready on time, so she made her way to his dorm, her palms sweating when she knocked on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Was the first thing he asked, wiping her smile off of her face.

“I thought we would go out tonight” She replied, looking down at her hands to hide her disappointment.

“Oh- I guess I forgot to tell you but I remembered I have an important project for tomorrow, so I’m not gonna make it” The door was barely open and he was standing where the crack was, blocking his room as he held the door with a strong grip.

“Okay” Her voice was so faint she barely heard it herself “Do you need help? I could stay here for a couple of hours”

“No, don’t worry about it. I think it’s better if you leave”

Tears pricked her eyes, swallowing the small lump forming in her throat “Why?”

“Well, I’m busy with schoolwork and you can’t really help me with an art project, can you?”

She shook her head slowly “I guess I’m leaving then”

The tears she had been holding started to fall as soon as she turned around, she could feel her mascara clumping on her eyelashes and forming black streaks down her cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight she applied in hopes of impressing her boyfriend. She ran upstairs, knocking on Chris’ door desperately. 

“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay?” Chris asked her when she saw the mascara tears.

She shook her head as she entered the room, small whimpers leaving her lips as she tried to stop the crying.

“What happened?” Chris took her hand and guided her to her bed.

“Dalton” 

“What about Dalton?”

“I think he’s cheating on me” She had never said that out loud, and saying it broke her heart even more “I wish I was crazy but the signs… I know he is”

“I’m not trying to defend him or anything, but what makes you think that?”

“Everything, Chris. He has been acting so… distant. Ever since-” She stopped herself. She never told anyone his relationship with Dalton wasn’t doing so well, making up excuses to cover his. She just wanted to hold on to everyone else thinking they were a perfect couple.

“What? Have you guys been fighting?”

Y/N took a deep breath before saying “Remember the last night I stayed over at his dorm?” She nodded in response “Well, later that day I went back to surprise him with lunch, but he wasn’t there and the bed was a complete mess, and you know I always make the bed when I wake up. He said he went back to take a nap but you know Dalton, he has a hard time sleeping and when he does sleep it’s never during the day”

Chris didn’t know what to say, she wanted to comfort her but she didn’t know how “And he’s been acting weird since then?”

Y/N nodded, wiping her tears “Yeah, he’s been pushing me away since that day. Telling me he doesn’t have time to hang out, which I understand but not even answering a couple of texts? And cancelling every date we had planned?”

“Is that what happened today? I thought it was your anniversary”

“It is” She was nibbling on her lip profusely, looking up so tears would stop falling “I don’t know what I’m gonna do”

“Have you told him how you feel?” Y/N shook her head, she hated confrontation and she was hoping she didn’t have to do that “I think you should go talk to him”

“Right now?”

“If not now then when? You say you’ve been feeling like something’s off for a while but you haven’t said anything to him”

“I don’t know Chris-”

“If he is cheating on you then you need to break up with him, you don’t deserve to be in that situation and you deserve to know the truth”

Y/N inhaled as she considered what Chris just said. She was right, but she wasn’t ready yet “I really want to know, but I can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because what if he is?” Tears started rolling down her face again, Chris hugging her tight as soon as it happened “I love him and… I just want things to go back to normal”

“I know you do, but believe me, it’s better if you know”

Y/N stayed there for a while. She decided to go talk to him, but she needed to put herself back together before confronting him. Chris helped her to wash her face and fix her hair, comforting her and offering to stay with her once they were done talking. Y/N accepted, she didn’t want to be alone, she knew it’d be a long night.

Once she felt better, she went downstairs, repeating in her head everything she wanted to tell him. She knocked loudly, and didn’t stop until he opened. He looked annoyed, and she stormed into his room as soon as he opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk”

“About what?” 

She blinked at him twice, did he not think they needed to talk? “About us, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Okay, now she was mad “Dalton, you have been ignoring me for days, and I understand if you’re busy but it doesn’t explain you pushing me away at all times”

“I’m sorry if you feel that way”

There was a moment of silence, both of them staring at each other as she tried to remember the questions she was supposed to ask, but none of them seemed to make sense now that she was standing in front of him “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“What do you want me to say?” 

“How about you tell me exactly what’s going on”

They were both raising their voices, but Dalton especially “I told you already, I’ve been busy with projects-”

“I could’ve stayed here with you, like we have done before”

“But why would you want to stay?”

“To keep you company, maybe?” 

“But all you do is lay on my bed while I try to paint”

“Dalton, do you know how many afternoons I’ve stayed here with you just so we can spend some time together? And you don’t even care anymore, you didn’t even cared to say thank you”

“I never asked you to stay,” He mumbled.

She scoffed before shaking her head “I wanted to, you know I worry about you when you work on a project for too long, you tend to overwork yourself-”

“I. Never. Asked. You. To. Stay” He interrupted her, his tone punctuated with each word “I would’ve been fine without you, I don’t need you in my hair at all times” His eyes hardened, his mouth opening to speak again “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I just- I guess I thought you liked to be with me”

“I do, but you don’t have to be so clingy all the time”

She didn’t say anything, hoping she heard it wrong or that he’d apologise, but he didn’t “What?”

“You know, we do everything together and-”

“No, we used to do things together, not everything” She corrected him.

He took a deep breath, as if he was done dealing with her “Right. Look, I’m tired, we can talk tomorrow”

Y/N nodded, holding back the tears as she walked towards the door “Happy anniversary” She said before slamming it closed, running back to Chris’ room.

Dalton sat on his bed with his head between his hands for a moment, how could he forget? He took a deep breath as he got up, looking for a ribbon and a canvas he hadn’t touched in who knows how long. 

He made his way to Chris’ dorm, he was sure that’s where Y/N was, and knocked on the door a couple of times before saying “Baby, I’m sorry. I was caught up in schoolwork and I didn’t realise what day it was” But he got no response “Y/N please, I know you’re here, will you please talk to me?” “Go away, Dalton” Chris was the one to yell, making Dalton realise he would not be able to fix it, not tonight anyway. 

“Okay, I’m leaving this here, I- I love you”

Y/N skipped school the next day, her sore eyes and pounding headache being the only things she could think about. Well, that and Dalton.

She was staring at the portrait of them, the portrait he painted for their one year anniversary they were supposed to celebrate the day before. It looked… unfinished, like he didn’t even care enough to finish it but the paint wasn’t fresh, so she was wondering how long ago he stopped working on it.

The days after that were rough, long nights of wondering what she could have possibly done wrong, but even then she didn’t talk to Dalton. He tried to, a couple of times, but she needed a little bit of time.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★

Everyone went home for thanksgiving, but she couldn’t afford to travel across the country and back so she decided to stay on campus. She wasn’t planning on going home anyway, she had made plans to go with Dalton to meet his parents and siblings and spend thanksgiving with his family, but obviously that wasn’t happening anymore.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Chris asked as she put down her suitcase.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me” Y/N gave her a reassuring smile before hugging her “Have fun, I’ll miss you”

“You could come with me, you know? My parents love you”

“I know” She replied as she pulled away “But I need to catch up on all the classes I skipped”

“Okay. Well, I’ll miss you too, but I’ll be back in a few days”

They hugged one more time, Chris letting her know she could call her if anything happened. Y/N was thankful for Chris, she really was, but sometimes crying alone did more for her than having someone telling her ‘everything's gonna be okay’, she was tired of hearing that.

Hours later she found herself catching up on her homework for three different classes. It wasn’t really that much of a workload and she didn’t need to stay up all night to do that, but she was going to anyway. Perhaps she wanted to be productive, or maybe that was her trying to occupy her mind from the possibility of her boyfriend cheating on her.

She looked at the clock, it was 11:30 PM. She sighed, scribbling the answer after reading the question on her laptop, her eyes sore from staring at it for too long, when a text message interrupted her.

Unknown: Attachment 1: Image Unknown: I heard they have been at it for a while

That text message induced such a great shock on her tired, worn out body, tears falling down her face as soon as she read it. She didn’t wanna open it, but her curious mind was stronger.

Tapping on the notification, she prepared herself mentally to confirm her suspicions. And they were confirmed.

Her vision was blurry from the tears, but she was able to see Dalton standing at the bottom of the stairs in the art building, and he was with someone else, except she couldn’t see who it was, the big jacket and a beanie protecting her identity. He was smiling down at her, eyes full of… love? Those blue eyes she thought he reserved for her only, but clearly she was wrong. His big hands were around her waist as hers went around his neck, and his lips were stained with lipstick.

She broke down crying, curled up on her bed as she wore one of Dalton’s hoodies that still smelled like him. She now knew what the truth was, but she didn’t want to accept it. What happened to them? When did he stop loving her?

It was like her heart was ripped from her chest, all that time they spent together down the drain like it was nothing, like it all meant nothing to him.

She didn’t know for how long she cried the night before, but it was now 1 PM and she was just waking up, so she probably cried for hours. There was nothing left she could do to save her relationship so she made up her mind to break up with him as soon as he came back to campus.

Y/N: We need to talk, just let me know when you’re here

The message was left unanswered, as usual. She rolled her eyes and put her phone down, returning to her facetime call with Chris.

“Do you know who that is?”

“No, sorry” 

Y/N sighed as she sipped her hot coffee “What about the number? Do you know who sent the picture?”

“What’s the number? Maybe I can ask around to see if any of my friends know”

Y/N sent her the phone number, along with the picture of Dalton and the other girl “Thanks. Don’t show anyone that picture thought, I’m already embarrassed as it is”

“Embarrassed? Y/N, he should be the embarrassed one, you didn’t do anything wrong”

“Maybe I did-”

“Y/N no, stop doing that to yourself. We both know it’s not your fault”

She nodded “I can’t help it. I just don’t understand”

“Understand what?”

“Was I not enough? Why did he need to find someone else?”

Chris hated to see Y/N going through that, how she felt like she was not enough or that it all ended because of her, and she hated Dalton for causing all of that “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise you’ll understand that none of this is your fault. Y/N you’re amazing, and he’s an idiot for not realising”

Talking to Chris made her feel better, but all those terrible emotions came back whenever she looked at the picture again, a million questions in her mind. How long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love me? What did I do wrong?

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★

A couple of days later Dalton finally answered her.

Dalton: Just got back, I’m in my dorm

Her heart sank at the notification, she didn’t want to talk to him, she didn’t want things to be over. There was still a part of her that hoped everything was just a misunderstanding, hoping he wasn’t cheating on her and she was just a friend. But deep down she knew the truth, and the possibility of it being a mix-up was down to zero, and after he made it clear that he didn’t wanna be in a relationship with her anymore, she decided to fulfil his wishes.

It was a long walk to his dorm, the cold weather bothering her more than usual but she still was slow, dreading the conversation she knew was about to happen.

She took a deep breath before knocking on the door, Dalton opening it almost right away.

“Hey” He said faintly, worried he got caught.

“Hi” She entered the room and looked around. She had been there a million times, and so many of those times were special little moments they shared together, but right now it felt like she was disconnected from the space “How was your break?”

“It was good. I’m tired but it was good” He tried to give her a smile, but stopped when he noticed her stare full of fury “What did you want to talk about?”

Seriously? “I’m breaking up with you” Her voice was weak, but she did not dare let a tear slip past her waterline, he didn’t deserve to see her cry. 

“What?” The shock in his eyes looked so real that Y/N almost believed him “Why?”

“Did you really just ask that?”

“So that’s it? We’re over?”

“Dalton, come on, we’ve been over for a while” She stepped closer to him, pain and anger written all over her face as the tears struggled to stay on her eyes “We didn’t even feel like a couple anymore, Dalton, you forgot our anniversary, and that day you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. And to think I planned a beautiful night for us and bought you an expensive gift. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?” 

“I didn’t know you were feeling like that”

“Of course not, when have you ever listened to me anyway?”

Dalton rolled his eyes “Okay, I understand but we don’t have to break up, I already explained what happened that day, I was busy and completely lost track of time”

“And I guess she doesn’t have anything to do with this?” Y/N showed him the picture, his demeanour changing immediately.

“Y/N I- I’m sorry, baby I’m so sorry” His eyes and his voice softened as he tried to reach for her, but she turned around and wiped the tears that left her eyes, a million questions flooding her mind.

“So it’s true” She was just confirming to herself what she already knew. Anger and pain washed over her body. Why her? Why her when she’s been nothing but perfect to the man she loved the most?

“Baby, I can explain” 

Y/N turned around to face him again “Who is she?” He shook his head, his eyes begging her not to make him say it while hers watered “Who is she?” She repeated.

“You don’t wanna know”

“Why? Cause I might find out you’re cheating?”

A few tears started to roll down his face, his hands desperate to hold hers “I can’t”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re gonna hate me even more” Y/N stared at him, even more tears falling as she tried to think who the girl could be. 

“Did you two- did you sleep with her?” His nod was barely perceptible, if she didn’t already know the answer she would’ve missed it. Maybe he was right, maybe it’d be better if she didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, baby I’m so sorry”

“Stop it”

“I know I fucked up but she doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear”

“Shut up, Dalton. I just… I don’t understand”

“Let me explain-”

“And I don’t care how many times you apologise, how do you expect me to forgive you?” She took a couple of steps back, trying to figure out what caused him to do such a thing “Even if we stayed together and got married and started a family, how can I ever look at you and not think about that?”

“Baby I want all of that, I want the rest of my life with you, like we talked”

“That was before you ruined everything”

“I know what i did is wrong-”

“Wrong?”

“But we can work this out”

“What? No, Dalton, stop”

“Just give me another chance, please”

“Is that why you've been so distant, huh? Was she here on our anniversary?” Dalton didn’t say anything, and the flashes from Dalton’s knuckles turning white from holding the door closed that night creeped her mind. Her heart ached so much that every time she breathed deeply, it was scorching her to the core “How could you do that?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry”

“Stop apologising”

“You know I didn’t mean it”

“Just stop… god”

“Y/N just hear me out, I swear it only happened once”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that’s not true. Do you know how many times I came to an unmade bed? And how many excuses you made?” He stayed silent “I don’t care how many times it happened, you still did it and nothing is gonna change that”

“I know”

“You’ve been hurt before, right? What if I was the one cheating, would you just forget it ever happened and come back to me?” Once again, he didn’t say anything “Of course you wouldn’t. Dalton, how could I ever forget what you did? Or everything you said to me when we were fighting, and the fact that you lied and- and cheated-”

“But you came all the way here”

“Because I care, and you… you never cared, you never tried-”

“I care, I care so much. Baby please, you have to believe me” He tried to reach out to her, but she pushed his hand away.

“No you don’t, and if I’m here it’s because i know after this we’ll never see each other again, we’ll never talk again and this just has to end”

“But I don’t want it to end”

“Well, you ended it when you cheated on me”

He stared at her for a moment before saying “But… I want you, she didn’t mean anything to me” He approached her again, his hope growing a little when she didn’t stop him. He put a strand of hair behind her ear, softly brushing her cheek “I know I fucked up but I can’t go on without you, I just can’t”

“Well you have, countless times while I was left in the dark wondering if I had done something wrong, crying myself to sleep when I couldn’t get a hold of you, Dalton, and in the meantime you were with her”

“I’m sorry-”

“And you have the nerve to say all that shit to me, acting like I was suffocating you, when in reality I was trying to save us!” She pushed him away.

“I’m so sorry”

“No, you’re not”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. Was she worth it?” He shook his head, ready to leave his pride behind as he kneeled in front of her as he grabbed one of her hands “What are you doing? Stop”

“I promise it was an accident, it won’t happen again”

“An accident? Dalton, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Please, don’t let me go” The grip on her hand tightened, pulling her closer to him.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“No. I don’t want anyone else, I want you, Y/N”

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore”

“But everything I said… I meant it, I love you Y/N and every second we’ve been together has meant everything to me, baby you have to understand”

“Liar”

“I’m not lying, you know I’m not” She pushed his hand away, rolling her eyes when another tear rolled down his face “I know I don’t deserve it but please… just one more chance and I can fix this”

“Give you a chance? I gave you a chance when I believed your excuses, when I forgave you for cancelling every date we had planned, when I tried to understand why you locked me out and when I almost forgave you for forgetting our anniversary, I gave you so many fucking chances!”

“But I swear it wasn’t like that, she meant nothing.”

“You’re unbelievable… god, what are you saying?”

“Just think about how great we are together” He said, trying to hold her torso, but once again she stopped him. 

“Dalton, stop that”

“We’re a great team, aren’t we? We understand each other so well, we know each other better than anyone else, god, I’ll do anything, I swear”

“No, it’s not gonna work”

“Yes it will, and I’ll make sure of that”

“No” She was having a hard time blocking out how much love she still had for him, but she wasn’t forgiving him, there was no way.

“I swear I don’t want anyone else” He held her hands and started kissing them, his lips giving her a sense of home that she missed “Y/N please, I love you” 

“I know” Her response was weak as she started crying again.

“You know I love you and I would do anything for you” He continued kissing her, a few tears falling on her hands “Do you still love me?”

“I love you… oh god” She released one of her hands from Dalton’s grip, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her face.

“See? It will work, we will make it work” Y/N shook her head, she was feeling stupid for almost falling for that “Baby look at me, everything’s gonna be alright. Just think about how great we’re together”

“Who is she?” She dared to repeat the question as she looked at him again.

Silence filled the room for a moment, his voice barely above a whispered when he finally answered “Annie”

Annie, her roommate Annie. She was in Dalton's art class, and she was the reason they met when Annie introduced them one day after their art class. She felt betrayed on a whole new level, not only by Dalton but by her too. They were friends, they had been roommates since day one so they were close, how could she do that? And these past weeks when she had been mourning her relationship, she was there the whole time and she knew exactly what was happening.

“How long?”

She was getting annoyed at how long it was taking him to answer her questions “The day we went to town… I walked with her to your dorm after our class to pick you up but you weren’t there yet”

“So you did it in my room?” It wasn’t really a question, and she felt even more disgusted at the thought of them in her own room.

“It was one moment of weakness”

“One moment of weakness?” He nodded, his hands now holding on to her hips “But it didn't stop there, did it?”

“I’m sorry”

She swiped the tears away to her temples “What does she give you that I can't?”

Dalton shook his head quickly “Nothing, you’re everything I could ever ask for”

“Then why did you do that?”

He didn’t have an answer, he didn’t really know how it happened or why it kept going, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it before he got caught “I don’t know” He whispered.

“Do you love her?”

“No, of course not. I love you” He was holding her tighter, convinced that if he held her long enough she’d want to stay.

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid”

“You know it didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake-”

“Get your hands off me, I’m leaving” She said as she tried to free herself.

“Baby, please don’t leave, you have to hear me out”

“Dalton let go, I don’t wanna be here” Her words struggled to come out from how much she was crying. 

“Please no, I don’t wanna let you go” He looked up at her, his eyes begging for forgiveness “Let’s just talk about it, yeah? Let me explain”

“Save it Dalton, it’s over” 

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. This is obviously my fault but I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay” She finally freed herself, and her only goal was to go back to her room. She turned around and headed to the door, his hand tried to come to stop her, but she flinched away. Y/N could hear him spittin nonsense, but she was drowning out his words “Baby please, I love you”

She turned around to face him one last time, spotting Dalton still on his knees in the middle of his room “So you’ve said, but how can you hurt someone you claim to love so much?” He was about to say something, but she didn’t wanna hear it “There’s nothing you can do to get me to stay, you threw everything away”

“I know, my love, but-”

“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna stay here, just… leave me alone, I don’t ever wanna see you again”

Y/N exited the room, leaving Dalton alone and a complete mess. He regretted what he did, and he wanted to think that if she would just give him a chance to explain she’d forgive him. But he knew that would never be the case, and that his mistake was bigger than any apology, she was right to leave him.

He stared at the door for too long, taking in every emotion he was feeling: remorse, anger, pain, agony… he just felt like life was being sucked out of his body because he ruined the most important part of it, and there’s no one to blame but himself.

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!!

[jaemmphilia]

★ mixtape: king of amarillo ★ || han j.s

★ summary: it's the next morning, and you and han are awoken by a certain puppy barging in and teasing the two of you after last night's activities. filming continues and you're left wondering what's next for you as the newest member of stray kids.

★ pairing: han jisung x 9th member!male!reader

★ warnings and rating: (16+ rating), language and mentions of a injury, mentions of surgery, reader was in a bad injury and has some long-term damage, mentions of possible nudity??

★ word count: 2.3k (2399)

★ binnie's thoughts: guys... this is the final part of the black diamonds series!! i'm a little sad that it's over, but i'm relieved because now i have time to bring you all more content!! also, i switched up the mission where they replicate each other's baby pictures just so i could fit in the reader. so, it doesn't follow the episode exactly.

★ requested?: X

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO WAY represents the stray kids members as people or as a group. this is simply just a work of fiction for entertainment, so enjoy!

© triplejracha, 2023. please do not copy to any other platform.

“Stay, join me in waking up these rowdy members.” Seungmin whispers to his hand-held camera as he ventures through the house, going room to room waking up his members. 

Once he makes his way to your room and he cracks the door open, peeking inside. He makes sure the camera can’t see inside the room, and he snickers at the sight of a naked, toned back. That has to be YN-hyung, he thinks to himself before turning off the camera. He slips into the room and hovers over the bed. He takes out his phone and snaps a few pictures and sends them to Lee Know, who he can hear gasp dramatically with a loud, “i knew it!” ringing through the house. 

Seungmin shakes your bare shoulder, watching as you stir and pull Han’s sleeping body closer to you. Seungmin shakes you again but harder this time, smiling as you squint up at him. 

“Seungmin-ah, what are you doing here? What time is it?” Your voice is deep with sleep, the raspines of it making Seungmin’s eyes widen a little.

He straightens up before answering you, “It’s almost eight in the morning. Everyone else is already awake. You and Hannie are the last ones, but it seems like you might need some extra time to, you know,” he snickers, “get decent and covered up wherever needed.” 

You’re definitely smelling what he’s stepping in, and you’re already annoyed by it. You wave him off and remove your arms from Han’s sleeping form, earning a soft whine from him. You begin to sit up, making Seungmin’s eyes go wide as he notices the blanket falling off your naked body. He bolts out of the room. He doesn’t want his innocent eyes to land on anything they aren’t supposed to.

You roll your eyes and shake Han gently. You listen to him huff before he finally wakes up. “Was that Seungmin’s voice I heard?” He asks groggily, and you hum to confirm. You’re pulling on a fresh pair of boxers and a pair of sweatpants. You toss Han’s clothes at him blindly, not realizing the poor boy got pelted in the face. He lets out his signature strangled noise as he falls back onto the bed dramatically. 

You turn to him simply and huff. “Han what are you doing? Stop fooling around and get dressed before anyone gets suspicious!” You bark out to him, slipping on a black and orange hoodie. 

“I’m not fooling around, hyung! You just pelted me with my own clothes!” He cries out as he puts on the clothes you oh-so-rudely threw at him. “This is the thanks I get after last night? How rude.”

You snort and fix your hair in the vanity mirror. You glance at him through said mirror, watching as he covers his toned body. You watch as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulder loosely. He peppers light kisses against the side of your head, and you lean into his touch. You can’t help but like the way this feels. The way his warm hands touch you so gently, leaving your skin tingling when he pulls away. 

But how long would it last? 

The question had bounced around in your mind all night long, causing you to toss and turn in your sleep. It wasn’t until Han wrapped his arms around you that you calmed down enough to sleep fully. His presence alone had calmed your thoughts, lulling you into an enjoyable, soothing slumber. 

“You’re pretty, hyung,” Jisung says, and your eyes snap up to look at him through the mirror  in shock. You stare at him as if he had grown two heads, your mouth parted just a bit. “Why are you gaping at me like that? It’s true!”

“You can’t just say it so– so nonchalantly!” You sputter out, covering your rapidly warming cheeks with your hands, which makes Han chuckle. 

“But you are pretty. Your lashes are long, and the way they lightly lay on your cheeks when your eyes are closed makes me feel all nice inside,” he starts his gaze not once leaving your face as he continues to look at you through the mirror. “don’t get me started on your lips– my god are they soft.” 

You put your hand up to stop him from talking and flustering you any more than he already has. You’re relieved when he actually stops talking. “That’s enough, loverboy. Save it for when we’re alone and don’t have a group of people waiting on us.” 

And with that, you and Han leave the room (at different times so as to not raise suspicion), and you both part ways for the first time since last night. 

You’re sitting at the island in the kitchen, enjoying a pack of strawberries when one of the filming crew tells you to go outside and retrieve your mission. So, with a mouth full of strawberries, you go outside and pluck an envelope from the staff member’s hand. He tells you that whoever’s name is in the envelope, you have to replicate the baby picture and take a photo for proof. You think it should be easy, hopefully you don’t get one that’s intricate and difficult. You open the envelope and you take out the picture. You examine it and you realize that you picked Changbin. You let out a loud “awh, so cute!” and begin to laugh at the picture and you run off to find someone to show. 

You find a very sleepy Chan slugging his way to the same staff member that explained the mission to you. You jog over to the oldest male and you hold the picture out to him. “Look, hyung! I picked Changbin!” You say, which earns you a chuckle in response. He then shows you the picture he picked. 

“I picked Hyunjin, not sure how I’ll find a headband that looks similar to this one, though.” He says looking around his surroundings to find the right place to take the picture. 

You hum with a nod, letting him know that you understood, “Yeah. I’m not sure how I’ll manage to find something similar to the ball in his hand..” you trail off, looking at the picture a bit harder. “Well, good luck, hyung!” You say and you make your way back inside to find an item that’s close enough to the ball in little Changbin’s arms.

When you walk inside, you see Hyunjin propped up on the couch, his legs all pretzeled up under his slim body– he looks mighty comfortable, you think to yourself as you spot a pack of balloons on the couch beside the long-haired male. You plop your body down on the opposite side of him, tearing open the pack of rubbery items. 

“Who did you get?” Hyunjin asks, ripping you out of your balloon trance. 

You continue to rummage around in the bag, trying to find one– just one, yellow balloon. “I got Changbin-hyung. What about you?” You ask in return, not looking up from your current task of yellow-balloon hunting. 

“I got Minho-hyung. But I don’t even wanna do his picture! His post is all intricate and difficult!” Hyunjin whines, and he pushes the picture into your view. You examine the picture and you look at Hyunjin with a blank stare. 

“Hyune, it’s really not that hard.” You say, and you finally find a yellow balloon. “Ah-ha! Found it!”

“But it is that hard, hyung! He’s all bent down and the angle has to be right!” Hyunjin continues to complain, and you have half a mind to just tune him out.

You begin to blow up the balloon, and in between breaths of air, you answer him, “I'll help you if you stop whining about it.” 

And with that, Hyunjin’s whines were silenced. 

After about twelve breaks for air, you tie the balloon at the end and take a look at your craft. You’re very proud, a little lightheaded, but still proud. 

You and Hyunjin help each other with your pictures and you reveal them to the staff, who approve of both of you. You give each other a high five and make your way outside to see if anyone else needs any help. 

Once all the missions were complete, it was time for breakfast. You all cooked a nice meal together, just as you did the day before. You all worked in tandem, not once getting jammed in the kitchen space. You danced around each other, getting shit done. You all sat down and ate breakfast, a multitude of moans and hums of how good the food tasted. You and Han sat next to each other, and his hand not once left your thigh under the table. You would get a shiver every time his slender fingers would draw little circles on your covered skin. 

Those shivers did not go unnoticed by the remaining seven men at the table. 

Once you all clean up the remains of breakfast, it was time for another game. This time it was soccer. You mentally groaned when the staff told you. You honestly don’t know if you’ll be able to participate this time around. Your left knee probably wouldn’t allow it, and you didn’t bring any tape for it. 

Several years ago, you were in a car accident with your grandma, and your knee was completely shattered after being crushed under the weight of the crash. You had gone through multiple surgeries in the span of a year,  just to get your bones back in order. Physical therapy was hell for you, endless nights of pain and suffering just wanting the pain to stop. You had to learn how to walk all over again, and even now you still have issues with it. One wrong step could end your idol life before it has the chance to even begin. 

“Oi, YN-hyung! Wake up!” A voice calls out to you, a snapping noise accompanied by the voice.

You shake your head, blinking a few times. You look around you, eight pairs of eyes zeroed in on your frozen body. “Huh, what’s going on?” You ask, looking at them owlishly with a warm face. 

“We’re gonna play soccer! Are you coming?” Jeongin asks, a bright smile on his face, his eyes disappearing behind his cheeks. 

“Oh. Well, wouldn’t that make the teams uneven?” You ask, and everyone lets out an elongated ‘oh’. “Besides, I can’t move my knee like you guys can. I had a pretty nasty injury that really limits the movement of my left knee. Especially in this chilly weather.” You explained, lightly itching your cheek as you averted your eyes.

They all seemed to understand, because they hummed and nodded. All of you avert your attention to Felix, who snaps his fingers with a grin on his face. “Why don’t you play referee?” 

A round of agreements goes around, and they all turn back to you to see your reaction. 

You nod with a smile and you all rush outside to play some ball.

A few hours later and the game is over. You all had a great time, laughs and petty arguments keeping you all busy. You’re all left to do whatever you want, so you go to take a little nap on the couch. As you’re walking to the couch, you see Han spread out halfway on the couch, and he lets out this battle cry mixed with the screech of a dinosaur. You look at him sideways before you curl up on the arm of the couch. You happen to hear a small bit of the conversation between Han and Chan before you doze off. 

“Han, come chat with me for a second.” Chan says, nodding his head towards an empty room away from any cameras and unwanted listening ears (a.k.a. Lee Minho and Kim Seungmin). Han quickly gets up and goes into the room, feeling like a little kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

The two sit on the bed, a light layer of awkwardness surrounding them. Chan speaks up first, “So, you and YN?” he asks, his arms crossed and his face very very serious. 

Han gulps before replying, “Yeah. I think I really like him, hyung.” Han admits, looking down at his clasped hands. Chan just nods.

“I hope you know that if you plan on doing anything further with him, you’ll have to be extremely careful. I know our dating ban is lifted, but this is so much more than just dating,” Chan says, before he pauses, “this is dating a member, someone of the same sex. There could be a lot of backlash if the public finds out.”

Han lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, “I know. Shit, I don’t want to mess up our careers, we’re at the top right now, hyung.” Han says, wanting so desperately to bite his nails, one of his nervous habits. 

“I’m just saying that you have to be really careful. You have my support, and I’m sure you have everyone else's, too.” Chan says, his hand coming up to pat Han’s back to try and comfort him a bit. 

“We’ll be careful, I’ll be sure of it. I don’t mind hiding us from the public, as long as I’m his and only his.” Han says, finally looking at his oldest hyung, there’s wetness in his eyes, the idea of his career ending just because he fell in love with someone of the same gender, making his head hurt.  

“Good, I’m rooting for you guys, just so you know,” Chan chuckles before wrapping his toned arms around Han.

A few hours later, you all are packed up, getting ready to head back to the dorms. The staff are putting all of your luggage away, and the nine of you are settling down on the bus. You and Han are seated next to each other, a blanket laid across your laps. Your hand is in his, your fingers intertwined as you share headphones connected to your phone. 

You lay your head on his shoulder, your eyes closing as the bus begins to roll. You smile to yourself when you feel Han squeeze your hand. At first you had your doubts about joining Stray Kids, but now you think this could work out just fine.