#i should finish that too as soon as i can draw again

[dandelion-roots]

[ID: a digital drawing of margot and christine against a gold background. margot is cradling christine's left cheek as she kisses her right; her other arm is around christine's shoulders. christine has her hands on margot's waist. both women are blushing. end id]

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[restinpeacesensei]

traditional style 💖

[zosanbrainrot]

part 05!!

01 02 03 04 05 06

It's been a while since I last worked on this comic, I've been busy

☘️🦋☀️ experiencing summer ☀️🦋☘️

which was and still is a lot of fun!

ANYHOW, I feel like when I stop drawing for a while it usually does me good, like, I'm very happy with my art quality in these panels and I didn't change much since the first draft (I still overthink some of the decisions but not as much as with the last part lmao).

It's like when in games you have a separate bar for running/stamina and it can only fill back up fully once you go slow and just walk for a while, but if you insist on running all the time it's never really at full capacity. Can't think of a better analogy, but lmk if you feel the same!

One of the things I maybe would have done differently is to have Yonji take the spear out of Zoro's shoulder, maybe?? It was so good when I first saw people draw a parallel between Zoro and Yonji because of their hair color and that maybe Sanji subconsciously has thought about this too ever since he and Zoro met. Not a meaningful thing for their relationship but more of an offhand thought that would surface from time to time. Him carrying the memories of his childhood all the time with him.

But! The upside of me not picking Yonji is that both Ichiji and Niji have the goggles so without their eyes visible they feel kinda distant emotionally and that works both bcs of who they are and also bcs the comic is not about them, in that panel where Niji has Sanji in a headlock the emotional focus is solely on Sanji.

And also Yonji just turned out so good there that I didn't wanna go back and change him lmao

I admit, when I was coming up with the plot of this comic in a frenzy right after watching these eps I kinda forgot about Nami slapping Sanji lmao I only recently remembered :' ) Don't wanna dwell on it too much though.

This part feels maybe more distant overall - I don't have any closeup shots (except the spear!) and the last moment you see Sanji's face fully is when he looks at Zoro. Zoro who got hurt. Again. Because of him.

I can't remember what I'd been thinking while boarding these, it'd been mostly vibes based, but I think the function of this part ended up being about showing a sequence of events rather than focusing on the emotions. It's pushing the plot forward and I think if I added closeups to the Vinsmokes then it'd be derailing a bit, again, it's not about them.

On the other hand it also works for Sanji shutting his emotions off, once his brothers and Judge enter the scene he has no leeway, he can't let his true feelings show. He's already shown too much. And what did it lead to? Everyone getting even more hurt. He let himself slip up during his fight with Zoro and Judge quickly put him back in his place. As long as the Strawhats were on the island they weren't truly safe. So he turns on his heel and walks back to the carriage, not looking back, he can only hope that Zoro's gonna pull through. He always does, he's been through worse, right? Right? They've never fought like this before though... The burn marks will take long to heal... And Luffy, has he woken up yet? No, no, no, he can't look back. And Nami...

So that's that! I got part 06 half finished already, so that should be out soon <333

as a bonus thing - some of the refs I've used for this part

3D models posed in Magicposer!

[fastandcarlos]

One More Won’t Hurt, Right? : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: watching your family at the paddock gives charles all the feels

Your eyes glanced to your left as you overheard someone clearing their throat, watching as Charles walked into the driver’s room, taking his rightful spot beside you, offering you a warm smile.

His attention was soon captured however by the pair of giggles that came from across the room, your two children playing happily with each other until they realised that their dad had re-entered the room.

“Daddy! You’re here!” Your daughter squealed, unsteadily rising to her feet.

“Hey princess,” Charles grinned, kneeling down so that he was at the same height to her, engulfing her in his embrace. “I hope you’ve been good for mummy.”

Her head nodded as her arms loosely wrapped around Charles’ neck. “We’ve been really good,” she giggled, feeling a kiss be pressed by Charles against her cheek.

He’d spent the past couple of hours having his final practice before qualifying, and although the car itself didn’t feel great, all of that was forgotten as soon as he was back with his family – his three favourite humans.

“We missed you.” Your daughter then suddenly added, taking Charles by surprise.

The two of you had done a great job raising your kids, plenty of people around the paddock complimented you on how well mannered and kind they both were.

It didn’t take long for your son to join in with the action, throwing himself at Charles with a groan. Luckily for him, Charles just about managed to react in time and pull his son into the other side of his embrace.

“Daddy, we played with cars, ate ice cream, and mummy even let us go up onto the roof terrace,” your son hurriedly informed Charles, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I hope you were watching daddy’s car,” he teased, pulling back to study them both, chuckling loudly when they both nodded back at him.

“Let’s finish our drawing,” your daughter suggested, pointing to the pieces of paper on the floor, dragging your son away from his father. Charles’ brows furrowed but your daughter insisted that he was not allowed to see anything.

As the two ran away, Charles stood back up again, snaking his arm around your waist as you both continued to watch your children smile and joke with each other.

“How did we do it?” Charles pondered, feeling your eyes staring back at him. “I mean, how did we get so lucky to create two perfect babies?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you felt Charles press a gentle kiss against your lips, pulling you closer towards him the moment he felt you linger a little longer than you should in such a place.

Your smile was wide as you pulled away, “they must have got the good genes of their mum.”

Charles’ eyes went wide as you spoke, jabbing into your side to make you squeal, pushing his hand away from you.

“We’ve really got the perfect family,” Charles whispered, resting his head against the top of yours in admiration.

“What are you doing?” Your son called out, cringing as he watched the two of you affectionately hold onto one another, everything that your kids hated to see.

“We’re making a baby,” Charles blurted out, earning himself a slap on the chest from you. Luckily for Charles, your son was far too innocent to understand, simply nodding his head.

“Okay,” he shrugged, averting his eyes back to his drawing.

Although the time wasn’t now, you knew in a few years your son would be the image of Charles, they had the same cheeky humour that had everyone around him in fits of giggles.

“I can’t believe that you’d tell him that.”

“Would it be such a bad thing?” Charles challenged as your stare hardened, eyes looking at him in disbelief. “The first two turned out pretty perfect, why not see if we can make it a hattrick?”

You found yourself speechless for a few moments as you tried to take in what Charles had said. Sure, the two of you discussed having another baby sometimes, but never as seriously as Charles seemed to be right now.

“What are you thinking?” Charles asked you, trying his best to read you and get a picture of what you were thinking.

“That you’re an idiot,” you joked.

“I’m right though, aren’t I?” He pushed, “one more won’t hurt, right?”

“Charles, are we really doing this now?” You chuckled, taking a look around the room.

“Why not? I mean, we could ask Carlos to take the kids for a bit,” he whispered.

Your hand hit against his chest once again, sure, a third child would be like a dream, but Charles’ driver room was not where you wanted that dream to become a reality.

“How long have you actually been thinking about this?” You enquired, keen to know where his sudden enthusiasm had come from.

“Honestly, since the day that I met you,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“The second I met you I knew that I wanted you to be my forever, but more so than that I knew that you were going to be the best mother to my kids. Truthfully, that day I decided I wanted a family of thousands, just to see you be the best mum in the world.”

There was a moment of silence between you both as Charles took your hand. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing good in life was, but he was absolutely determined that the two of you would make it all work.

When you remained silent, Charles cleared his throat. “Why don’t we have a think when we’re back at home, sit down and really think about if this is something we should do.”

If you were honest, you didn’t need time to think. Your mind was made up. Having another mini Charles running around the apartment was something you adored.

“Let’s do it…but perhaps when the kids aren’t around,” you smiled.

“My offer still stands,” Charles teased, but your head shook, you could never move your kids when they were having so much fun.

“Later.”

“Like, tonight later?” Charles whispered close against your ear, pressing a trail of kisses down the length of your neck.

“Play your cards right,” you hummed in response, trying your best to avoid Charles’ advances beside you.

You knew what he was doing. And so did he. But he just couldn’t resist the temptation of trying.

“Later,” you repeated, untangling yourself from his hold. “Duty calls,” you smirked, just as your daughter called you both over. Charles’ eyes rolled as he walked over too, keeping his eyes firmly on you.

“I’m holding you to that one.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[nitewingbabi]

↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth

2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.

‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 

Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 

It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 

Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 

Unknown Number +1**********

➤ quiet night? 

➤ parents aren’t home. 

➤ neighbours are out of town. 

You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 

Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 

Unknown Number +***********

➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 

➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 

You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 

Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 

Unknown Caller 

You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 

“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 

“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 

“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 

“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 

“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 

You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 

You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 

“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 

“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 

Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 

It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 

Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 

“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 

The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 

His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 

Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 

It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 

Unkown Number +**********

➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 

➤ leave your window unlocked

➤ i know your parents wont be home

➤ hope you like it rough princess

[cherricloverr]

been running low on steam and ideas for drawings recently so I think I gotta do like some proper studies but that's boring I just want to draw the blorbos that r rotating in my mind

[supershot73199]

Ok I'm back with another dcxdp overprotective Danny fic/prompt. No specific ship for this one.

Though Barbara is there this time.

Barbara couldn't help but smile as she looked at all the little kids in the library doing arts and crafts. She loved seeing all the kids different art projects though if she had to be honest she had a favorite little artist.

"Ms Barbara look look! I drew the Signal he looked so cool on his motorcycle!"

Speak of the devil, the little girl proudly running up to show of her art was named Dawn Nightingale a precious four year old who had mistaken Barbara for her Auntie Jazz the first time they met. (Not that Barbara blamed her she had seen a picture of the girls Aunt and they looked almost identical.)

"That looks wonderful why don't you go pin it to the art wall by the door so everyone can see it?" Barbara said as she looked at the surprisingly well done drawing.

As the four year old ran to do so with a cheer Barbara took a quick look over at the girls father, Danny Nightingale was a single father who from what conversations Barbara had with him had his daughter thrust upon him as a teen and was forced to leave home because of prejudiced parents. Despite this he was a natural father and was doing well to care for her even going so far as to be enrolled in engineering courses at Gotham U even while working full time to support his kid.

The single father was helping some of the younger kids while ignoring the single mothers trying to flirt with him with either practiced grace, or density befitting a black hole.

Before she could go to scare off the more persistent women (for Christs sake some of these women were over a decade older than him) there was a sudden bang as the doors to the library burst open revealed the Joker in all his pasty faced glory.

"Well well what fun! A group art project! It's a good thing I was in the area because now you kiddos get to help with Uncle Jokers art. C'mere brat."

Barbara had hit the panic button on her wheelchair the moment the Joker came through the door but she is not too proud to admit that she froze the moment he reached out and grabbed Dawn who had still been near the door hanging up her picture.

She could see the fear on the child she considered an honorary niece and found it hard to listen to what the demented clown was saying. Not that it mattered as before the Joker finished demanding the library patrons do what he said or else he was suddenly stepping back from the heavy blow that an enraged Danny had dealt.

The Joker having let go of Dawn, who ran to Barbara as soon as she was free, could not even seem to muster a defense as Danny beat him right out the door. Every weapon or gag he tried to pull out was either knocked aside or grabbed and used on him. The last thing Barbara saw before the door swung shut was Danny taking the flag gun the Joker tried to pull out and breaking it on the Jokers face.

With her arms now full of crying toddler Barbara did her best to comfort her and just as soon as she managed to calm her the door opening made her look up only to see Danny walking back in.

"Daddy!" The ballistic missile shaped like a toddler leapt into her fathers arms as he held her close.

"It's OK. It's all good. Daddy won't ever let anyone hurt you OK? There isn't anything in this world or the next that will keep me from you."

Barbara turned from the heartwarming display but only because she heard the door opening again thankfully this time it was Signal walking in Barbara figured he must have already secured the Joker since he didn't seem to be in a rush.

"Hey is everyone OK in here? Any injuries? No ok then I'm going to ask you all to stay in here and stay calm until the GCPD can take statements and get done scraping the Joker off the curb." The nervous undercurrent to Dukes voice should have clued Barbara that something was different but then that last statement hit her. Danny must have knocked the Joker out before coming back inside.

Speaking of Danny he was walking over with a Dawn who had fallen asleep in his arms after crying herself out.

"Hey I wanted to thank you for comforting Dawn. This situation was not something she should have been exposed to and I'm glad that she had someone trustworthy nearby to go to. And I am sorry buy I need to ask you one more favor... do you think you could watch Dawn until my sister gets off work if the cops detain me?"

Barbara couldn't help but double take at that.

"I don't mind but I doubt that will happen." She assured.

"Maybe but I did just stain the street with Jokers brain matter. So it's definitely a non zero chance."

Barbara couldn't help it, she was dumbfounded clearly she was mishearing.

"I'm sorry I must be hearing things, it sounded like you said you killed the Joker."

"Yeah I did. I won't let anyone hurt my family especially not that Steven King reject."

The next couple hours passed in a haze of reassuring parents and answering questions from the police for Barbara.

Thankfully Danny was not detained and was allowed to take Dawn home. Though he did ask Detective Bullock if he needed to be worried about and charges being pressed.

"Haha kid your more likely to get a medal or a holiday for this. Everyone has been hurt by that clown in some way.

Later when she was finally able to get the the clock tower she was unsurprised to find Jason waiting for her there. Clearly he had the same idea that she had, that is using her camera outside the library so that she could see what happened for closure.

The pair watched as this young man beat the Joker back at a different angle than when she saw it earlier that day. But shortly after the door shut she saw it happen so fast a trip over the step with Joker having the wind knocked out of him throwing a loose piece of concrete at the single father who caught it and the proceeded to bash the failed jester until he was unrecognizable.

Jason was the first to break the silence.

"I'm going to need a copy of that video and I suggest you make another one to give to Harley at your next girls night with the sirens."

"Deal but only if you get Alfred to help me cook him thank you meal."

[little-lynx]

Does that make any sense?..

My feet move soundlessly across the tiles. I’m only yard behind him when I say, “You should be getting some sleep.” He starts but doesn’t turn. I can see him give his head a slight shake. “I didn’t want to miss the party. It’s for us, after all.” I come up beside him and lean over the edge of the rail. The wide streets are full of dancing people. I squint to make out their tiny figures in more detail. “Are they in costumes?” “Who could tell?” Peeta answers. “With all the crazy clothes they wear here. Couldn’t sleep, either?” “Couldn’t turn my mind off,” I say. “Thinking about your family?” he asks. “No,” I admit a bit guiltily. “All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course.” In the light from below, I can see his face now, the awkward way he holds his bandaged hands. “I really am sorry about your hands.” “It doesn’t matter, Katniss,” he says. “I’ve never been a contender in these Games anyway.” “That’s no way to be thinking,” I say. “Why not? It’s true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and . . .” He hesitates. “And what?” I say. “I don’t know how to say it exactly. Only . . . I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?” he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself? “I don’t want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I’m not.” / The Hunger Games, chapter 10

——————

————

this incredible moment was commissioned by wonderful @thehellcaster , I finished it months ago and it’s time to share it with you guys ❤️

It’s #2 for my Everlark Moments series and well it’s rooftop again haha. What a way to start a series ;) I actually work on #3 now (for a while now 😫) but since I kind of back in my work condition I hope to finish it pretty soon too ❤️

thank you again @thehellcaster for being such a wonderful person ❤️ these moments are amazing and I have such a great time drawing them for you ❤️

[casuallyimagining]

refuge | xmh

xu minghao x reader

"they're so loud." genre: fluff | wc: 592 | warnings: none

For the briefest of moments, the sound of laughter and old friends reminiscing bubbles up and punctures your quiet little hideaway outside. It’s a little chilly–autumn finally has the early October nights in its clutches–but you managed to turn on the small fire table before settling into a corner of the wicker sofa with your book. The noise dies down with the sound of the patio door sliding shut, and it takes only a moment more for the cause to appear.

Minghao leans down, presses a kiss into your hair, and hums at the warmth that the fire table gives off. “You’re quite cozy out here,” he notes, settling down into the space beside you. “I brought you some tea.”

You take the offered cup gratefully, setting your book down spine-up in your lap. “You lasted far longer in there than I expected.”

“They’re so loud,” he whines, a pained look crossing his face. 

“You love them.”

Just then, as if to punctuate his point, you can hear shouting from inside. Vaguely, you can make out Seungkwan’s voice. Hao looks at you flatly, as if to say ‘see?’

You bat at his chest playfully and you both laugh. It fades to quiet after a moment, and the silence of the night envelops you again. You pick your book back up and lean forward to set your mug on the edge of the fire table before cozying back into the sofa. Hao moves over, almost imperceptibly, but you can feel his body pressing into your side, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer.

Beside you, you can feel Minghao relax, his breathing evening out as he drifts into his thoughts. You let your focus fall back into your book, and for a while, you sit there together, completely at peace.

“We should get one of these for the balcony.” Hao’s voice is soft, and when you look up, he’s staring into the fire.

“Add it to the list.”

And he smiles. A soft, shy little thing that he tries to hide behind his cup of tea. The two of you have been half-joking about moving in together for months. It’s not the right time for either of you–he’s busy and your lease is nowhere near up–but the promise of more keeps you going.

The noise bubbles up again as the door opens, and Soonyoung’s voice punches out into the night. “Minghao! Come back inside and play with us! Vernon went to sleep and we need even teams.”

Hao shoots you a pointed look. “Loud,” he repeats, just loud enough for you to hear. 

You giggle. “Go in and spend time with your friends.” You kiss him quickly, his soft lips moulding against yours for the briefest of moments. “I’ll be in soon. I just want to finish this chapter.”

“Minghao!” Soonyoung yells again, and even without looking at him, you can tell he’s taken a step outside toward the two of you.

Hao rolls his eyes and kisses you quickly before standing. He takes his teacup with him. “I will give you 5 million won to forget my name,” he tells Soonyoung, and the older man giggles like a deranged toddler. 

The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you watch your partner disappear into the house. The night once again goes silent. You know he’s not always up for the raucous energy of his 12 chaotic brothers, but you’re always happy to be here when it gets too much. You’ll never tire of being his refuge.

minghao has really dug himself into the soft spot in my heart recently. I love him a whole lot, and I need more minghao content in my life. if you've got any recs, send them my way, but in the meantime, let me know what you thought of this, maybe?

[villainousauthor]

The hero wrinkles their nose at smell of antiseptic wipes, at the cold feel against their skin, as the villain prepares to draw more blood. They've lost count how many vials Villain has taken at this point.

Hero winces, trying to flinch away at the inevitable sharp pinch, and Villain digs their fingers into their arm some more. They press hard, cold hands keeping them still. "If I mess up, I'll have to stick you again." They warn, voice level. Paper crinkles under where Hero sits, the soft sound filling the silence.

Hero keeps their gaze downward, the bright florescent lights over head giving them a headache. You think with how long they've been here, they would have gotten used to the ugly, artificial glare, but they miss the sun.

They look up at Villain through their lashes, who's currently too focused on their current task to notice, eyebrows pinched together as they seem deep in thought.

"I doubt you're even certified to be drawing blood in the first place." Hero ribs, voice quiet, the words light but the humor just quite not there.

Villain snorts, as they finish and pull the IV out gently. "I've seemed to be able to do it fine all these weeks." They apply the cotton bandage to the area, securing it in place, though it's honestly not necessary, the small wound already likely healed.

Hero knows they shouldn't be trying to make Villain laugh, or trying to lighten the tense air that surrounds their every interaction. They should be attempting to escape, should be fighting tooth and nail against the strange experiments their arch nemesis insists on trying, but so many failed escapes and so many weeks without the presence of any other person has them weak for any human contact they can get.

They've almost begun to mistake the way Villain grabs their arm when taking blood, the way Villain's cold hand holds their face still when swabbing their mouth, the way they stand close when checking their vitals, as misplaced forms of affection.

It's pure delusion, Hero knows this, but they crave another persons touch so much they can almost believe it. Thinking about it too much makes their head hurt more than even the obnoxious overhead lights do.

Villain takes their silence as a sign to continue speaking. "Soon enough, I'll find the secret behind how your regenerative abilities work and then I'll be unstoppable." They say cleaning up, and placing the three tubes of blood they took on the tray to their left. Hero's head swirls as they watch the swishing of the dark red liquid.

Facing them again, still standing close, Villain's eyes finally meet Hero's and their voice softens slightly when they say this next part. "I won't have to poke and prod you so much when I do." Their voice is gentle enough that Hero wants to believe them, to trust them.

Hero licks their dry lips, voice cracking slightly. "Will...will you finally let me go once you do?" The question Hero has been avoiding asking this whole time.

The question gives Villain pause, as they seem to consider it for a moment. They step closer, placing their hands on either side of where Hero sits, bracketing them in. "I could...I probably should.." Villain's voice is whisper quiet as they stand inches away, breath fanning over Hero's ear.

"But I think prefer keeping you for myself."

[jilixthinker]

i always know

=͟͟͞♡ seungmin × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ fluffy period sex

word count: 4K

content warning: smut, explicit sexual content, established relationship, kinda sub!seungmin, period sex, unprotected sex (piv), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), it's grafic and fluffy

a/c: i wrote this for my pure enjoyment because period!sex should be debunked and seungmin is just so... fitting. enjoy this ♡

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

"What do you need again?"

Seungmin's voice is ruffled and far. You can hear people talking in the background and the annoying beeping sounds of cash registers.

"Just the regular pads I always buy." You huff, hot bottle strategically placed on your lower stomach and phone on speaker. The fact that you had to do anything today is literally a crime. You had to go to work, 8 infinite hours of cramps and shivers, and then grocery shopping. And, of course, you forgot to buy your pads.

Seungmin finished his shift 30 minutes ago, and he called to check on you, asking if you were feeling like eating Chinese for dinner. That's when it popped into your mind.

"Uhm. The purple ones, right?". You can hear him searching through the boxes to find the right one.

"Yes, just those." You mutter, another dart of dull pain spikes through your abdomen, making you curl on yourself.

The painkiller you took with lunch wore off hours ago and you cannot take another one without eating before, or it will upset your stomach.

"Okay. 10 minutes and I'll be home. I am so sorry".

You roll from your side onto your back, hugging the hot bottle tighter to your tummy and drawing your knees towards your chest. Kim Seungmin is the best boyfriend in the entire world, a true angel, and you know it. That's why you say it all the time.

"Kim Seungmin, you are the best boyfriend in the entire world."

Seungmin's laugh is quiet and shy while you hear him paying for your box of pads.

"I'm not. Coming."

You close your eyes trying to relax, but it doesn’t work. You watch your own chest rise and fall in the overwhelming quiet of the room until the silence is too much, and you look for the remote, stuck under the million of cushions on your sofa. You put one of your favorite kdramas on, and you lazily start to watch it until you hear the sound of keys just outside the door.

You sit up, keeping your hot bottle on your stomach. The sound is followed by the shuffle of footsteps and the sound of Seungmin's soft voice.

"Hi." He waves as soon as he sees you, splayed on the couch.

"Hi," you respond. You try to keep the discomfort out of your voice, even if Seungmin knows how much painful your periods can be. Your pale face doesn't hide anything as well.

He rounds the corner and he tilts his head at you. His new blondish hair partially covers his puppy eyes, but it makes him look so soft and cuddly that you don't mind.

"Are you alright?". He asks you while he starts to set the table for the take-out.

"Yeah, fine". You rub your face and move against the arm of the couch. "Always the same".

"Mhm." Seungmin nods and places two napkins and your chopsticks on the table before heading for the kitchen. You watch him opening two boxes of stir fried noodles and one of caramelized tofu, together with some mushrooms and veggies.

"Ready." He smiles and comes toward you, offering his hand as a support for standing up. When you both sit at the table, he fills your plate before his.

"Why are you so sweet today?" You ask, picking up your chopstick and starting munching on some veggies.

He ducks his head with a cute wink. "I am always sweet. Also, you are hurting." He squeezes your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. You stuff a piece of tofu inside your mouth.

"I am not hur-".Then another cramp twists through your lower belly and you groan.

"Oh, love." He coos, and looking up, you realize he has a worried look in his eyes. "Wait, let me help you eat".

Before you can mount any protest, he takes your chopsticks from your hands and bring a piece of tofu and mushrooms in front of your mouth. You look at him steadily.

"I am not a child." You huff, but the pain humbles you quickly with a sharp cramp.

"How many times have you mothered me when I was sick? Let me pamper you every once in a while." And then he looks at you with the softest eyes he could master. "Please?"

You lift your legs to place them on his laps and you silently open your mouth. The flavorful taste of the food calming your senses just a little. Seungmin alternates one mouthful of food for you and one for himself for a few minutes. The vision is so caring and sweet that makes your heart ache.

When you both finish eating, Seungmin places a tiny kiss on your cheek before starting to clear the table. You patiently wait for him to finish and, when he is done, he hands you a big glass of water with one of your painkillers.

"I feel awful". You admit after chugging the pill together with half of the water.

Seungmin nods, and he gently circles your hips with his arm, helping you standing up again. He rests one of his hands on your hipbone and caresses it. "What can I do?".

"Nothing, Min." you reply. "I'm not dying. It will pass, eventually. It happens every month". You glare and hope he can stop worrying that much before you start feeling guilty.

"Why don't you choose something nice to watch while I prepare the bed and make another hot bottle?"

The thought of you two cuddling on your warm bed until the painkillers kick in and you can fall asleep is very tempting.

"Sure. I am gonna change my pad real quick and put my pajamas on."

Seungmin smiles and you pick up the box he bought for you from a shopping bag, heading to the bathroom.

After taking the quickest shower and putting a fluffy set of pajamas, you enter in your room. Seungmin turned on just the background lights, the softer ones, and he is waiting for you under the covers. He created what it seems to be a nest of blankets, soft and warm. You snuggle next to him and he covers you with one of them, the hot bottle waiting for you.

You hug his chest and he places one arm around your shoulders, pressing the bottle on your stomach and making sure you are all covered with the blankets. The TV in front of your bed is already on.

"I don't deserve you." You whisper, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck. He smells nice, fresh and clean as always.

"You deserve any of this and more". He turns his head to press a peck on your forehead, and he tightens his hug. You puff some air while snuggling up. The warmth of his body feels just right against your aching stomach, and in just a few seconds you begin to feel better already.

"How can you always find out what I need?" You ask, the sound of your voice is muffled by the skin of his neck, and Seungmin lets out a tiny laugh.

"Well, it's simple. I love you. I always know." He murmurs, settling his hand on the nape of your neck. Your eyes slip shut, you still  feel an uncomfortable tightness in your lower stomach, but it's definitively decreasing.

Seungmin finds the remote control and clicks on the same episode of the drama you were watching before. His touch melts down your skin, warm and soft, soothing the tension of your muscles and bringing you the relief you’ve been craving the whole day.

The voices of the drama seem far while you bring your right leg to straddle Seungmin's.

"This feels so nice". You whisper on his skin.

Seungmin smiles and starts to hum a lullaby. The vibrations are low and you start to think you might even fall asleep like this. Then, another cramp hits you and suddenly you are wide awake again.

"That bad?" Seungmin's hands settle on your hips and travel to your back, massaging your spine in tiny circles, trying to help you with the pain.

"Uhm." You reply. His fingers catch on the hem of your pajamas shirt and he starts to press the pads on your bare skin. He keeps the pressure consistent and your back arches slightly into his. You shuffle closer to him. The heat of his hands on your back is a pleasing distraction from the ache spreading through your pelvis.

"Does it help a little?" He whispers while pressing another kiss on your temple.

"It feels good." You mumble. The noise is muffled in the soft fabric of Seungmin's sweater.

He nods, and for a few minutes he keeps alternating between applying pressure to your back and running his hands up and down your spine. You hum from deep in your chest as you feel yourself go loose in his arms. The cramps on your abdomen lighten and you tilt your head to the side to face him.

"Kiss?" You demand, voice all groggy and low.

Seungmin lowers his face to press his lips against yours. They are plump and soft, and they taste like mint. You lazily open your mouth and let your tongue lap his lower lip. He lets you do it for a bit, until you start nibbling at it and you feel getting restless under the warm covers.

"Getting better?" He asks without letting your mouth go.

You nod and his right hand comes up to cup your cheek. The other one is still on your lower back, caressing the skin over your pajama pants.

Seungmin hums slowly and the sound vibrates into you. He parts his lips and licks into your mouth while your grip on him becomes tighter.

"Can I try something?" He breathes on you. The pressure of his hand on your back is firmer than before, and his fingers feel hot against your sensitive skin.

"Something like?" you stop to look up to him. He looks a little bit flushed, but you're sure you look worse.

"Something than can help you. And something that I wanted to try for a while."

You feel a slight shiver on the skin of your back. You nod and lower your face to press your lips on his cheek, leaving an open mouthed kiss on it. Seungmin cups your chin again and slips the tip of his tongue inside your waiting mouth. You hum pleasantly, trying to deepen the kiss, until finally Seungmin gives in and lets you.   

Your lower stomach is still throbbing with pain, but you quickly feel a wave of warmth spreading on your belly. It feels like Seungmin is making everything hot, every little part of you that he gets to touch. He starts to drag his warm tongue along your lips while his hands tease the place where your skin meets the fabric of your pants. When he starts to play with the elastic band underneath, you lazily detach your mouth from his.

"Min?"

"Uh?" He leans back a little, but his lips find the tender spot under your ear and he begins to kiss you there.

"I am getting really horny." You admit. Your eyes slip shut and you lean on his touch.

"That's perfect." He murmurs, sucking a tiny portion of skin into his mouth and bringing his hands to cup your ass over the fabric of your pajamas. You moan at the touch and you press your body firmly against his.

"Is this okay?" He asks, sucking another bite into the skin of your neck.

You roll your head back onto the pillow under you, giving him more space. The soft light reflects on his brown eyes, glazy and dusted with arousal.

"Very."

Seungmin licks a stripe up your throat, all the way to your ear, and he gently rolls you on the bed until you are laying completely on your back. Even if his touch is light, you wince when he lays a hand on your stomach, slipping his fingers under your waistband. He dips his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, and then at the exposed skin of your collarbones, where the collar of your pajamas has slipped to the side.

You gasp when he slowly slips his hand underneath your pants and his fingers find your underwear. You stop tensing your legs, letting them fall apart slowly, and his fingers brush lower, over your inner thighs.

You’re so sensitive like this that you feel you could explode any moment now. The warmth of the room, combined with all the hormones flooding your body, heighten every little touch.

Seungmin's knuckles brush against the fabric of your cotton panties, and he slips a finger under the elastic band, finally pulling them off together with your pants. The induments fall on the floor, and that's when you remember your conditions.

"Minnie... I think we should grab a towel."

Seungmin kneels on the mattress in between your parted legs, and grab your knees to keep them open. "I don't care about the towel."

You are about to protest when one of Seungmin's hands slips lower and you feel the first brush of his fingers on you. A moan escapes from your mouth and your eyes flutter shut. And when he finally touches you, you keen.

He cups you fully, his palm resting over your pulsating core and thumb starting to rub your clit. You feel his pad tickling the tight bundle of nerves before dipping his fingers lower to tease at your entrance.

"Fuck."

You smell your own blood and arousal thick in the air, and it's so primal and raw that you feel lightheaded.

Seungmin presses in, his fingertip just dipping into you, and you drop your head against the pillow with a long a whine.

"You look beautiful." He murmurs. He inches his middle finger deeper and you can feel the squelching noise your pussy is letting out. The gushing sound reverberates in the room and it makes your head spin.

He presses the heel of his hand down and grinds it against your core, while he places his other hand on the lowest part of your belly.

"You look so good between my legs." You breathe out, circling your hips into his touch. His finger is fully inside inside you, but you are so wet that you need something more to feel stuffed.

Seungmin chuckles and he kisses your abdomen, pushing his finger in and out and pulling lewd noises out of you.

"Give me another one."

"Yes." He eases another finger into you, circling your folds with his pad before fucking it into you.

"Good boy."

He holds your body steady with his arm around your left thigh. He crooks his fingers to rub against the spongy spot inside you and your leg twitches. Your whole body is thick with desire and you feel so sensitive that you could come just from the obscene sound of Seungmin fucking your own blood into you.

He keeps you open like this for a few minutes, thrusting his fingers inside, and then smearing all of your liquids around your folds. Then he curls them again deeper into you.

When he slides his third finger in, you can feel yourself dripping on his wrist. And it should be gross, it should be revolting, but the only thought your brain can produce is hot hot hot hot. You bring your hand down and grab Seungmin's forearm, regulating his pushes and feeling his muscles flexing under his skin as he fuck you steadily.

"I wan' taste." Seungmin hums after a minute. His chocolatey eyes are staring hungrily at the way you pussy ingulfs his fingers.

"Yes, fuck. Taste me." You moan, the noises stuck in your throat come out groggy and low.

You drop the hand that was holding his arm and Seungmin just leans in, tongue lolling out of his mouth before he brings his lips on your pussy, flicking his warm muscle on your clit.  

You hiss and your body tense up feeling Seungmin get lost in you. He closes his lips around your bundle of nerves and he sucks, hard.

"Seungmin."

You moan, hips bucking into his face while he dips his tongue against your entrance and you let out an audible gasp. Your eyes flick down to meet his, fully blown out with arousal. He pulls his tongue out and he keeps giving kitten licks, as if he was savoring a rich glass of wine.

Your head fall back on the pillow as you let him continue. Seungmin brings his fingers to your entrance once again, and he push just his index in, licking a fat strip from your entrance to your clit, purring with enjoyment.

"Taste good?" you ask, and you sound out of breath. Everything is so hot around you and you feel more drops of blood gushing out of you.

"You cannot believe how good." Seungmin whispers, looking up to meet your eyes and licking you deep at the same time.

The whole room is almost dark, the few lights that are still on don't allow you to see Seungmin in his interity. But it's enough for you to see him almost suffocating himself in your drooly cunt with your blood smeared on the corner of his mouth.

"Baby... Min, god. Need you inside."

Seungmin hums against your folds and sucks one more time before he wipes his mouth on his own wrist, pressing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

He reaches down to fumble with the elastic band of his pants, clumsily tugging his erection free from the constriction of his underwear as he leans into you and smashes his lips against yours. You moan loudly when he opens his mouth and swirls his tongue inside, the metalic taste of your blood filthy and intoxicatic. Seungmin bites on your lower lip, and then he soothes it with his tongue. Everything is so raw that you feel yourself getting close already.

"It's not gonna be impressive." He whispers, bringing his hand down to messily stroke himself, thrusting into his own fingers just a couple of times. You can feel his tip bumping into your hip, all red and puffy, precum dribbling on your skin.

"I didn't touch you". You huff on his lips, licking his cheek and biting it lazily.

"You tasted too good. I almost came." He admits. He brings his cock in front of your pussy and he slides its chubby head on your clit. There is a mess of blood, spit and slick all mixing together and you moan at the feeling.

"Don't care. I am close. I jus' need your cum."

Seungmin swallows, fidgeting a little as his cock taps against your swollen clit. You circles your hips against him and your pussy catches the tip. You kiss him.

"Baby, Minnie. Wanna see my blood and your cum leak out of me after you fuck me nice and hard?"

Seungmin lets out a small noise at that, biting his lip. You can tell he is close by the way his breathes come out staggered.

"Yes, please". He agrees, finally pushing himself inside of you in one thrust, trying his best not to come immediately.

You moan pleasantly at the strech as he bottoms out. You feel his swollen balls rest on the fat of your thighs and from the sound you hear, you are making a mess on the bed sheets under you. You try to remember why is this the first time you are doing this, and you cannot find a reason.

Seungmin is shivering on top of you, and he delivers a first shallow push. You sigh in pleasure and he starts rocking his hips against yours. The wet sounds fill the room together with Seungmin's sweet hiccups. He held back for too long, and now he cannot help himself no more.

You cup his chin with your hands and you press a light kiss on his lips.

"You like it Minnie, uh? How long did you wait for this? You could have asked, you know. I would have said yes from the first time. I would have let you shove your cock inside me and cover it in blood. All nice and wet for you. Nasty boy."

Seungmin blushes heavily as you open youd legs, lowering a hand to spread apart your folds.

"Cum inside me, c'mon."

His thrusts are messy and errating, unable to bring himself to look at you in the eyes out of embarrassment. You dig your nails into his broad shoulders and he whines loudly as he pushes frenetically into you.

It is just a matter of time considering how close both of you have been from the start. The wet sounds that come with every thrust, together with the sight of your pussy stretched around his cock, are so sinful that Seungmin has to look away, a tight ring of slick and blood forming on his girth.

"G'na cum." He stutters, giving a few hard thrusts.

You nod and bring your hand in between your bodies to start rubbing at your puffy clit. The pressure combined with Seungmin's thrust is enough to bring to to the edge in a few seconds, and with your free hand you cup his face and you kiss him deep.

"Cum, baby boy. Fill me up."

Seungmin trembles and gives two final pushes inside of you before hitting his limit, groaning out as he cums. His fingers grips tight at your legs as he spurts hot cum all over your walls.

You whine as you feel his sperm coating your insides, dragging your nails down his back and letting out a loud moan as you finally cum around him, pussy swollen and tight, milking him till his last drop.

After what it seems to be hours, Seungmin collapses onto you and pants on your neck, his soft bangs all sweaty and curly on his face. You catch your breath for a few seconds before feeling him pulling out.

As his softening cock is pulled out of you, you feel all of your liquids leaking out of your entrance, mixed with his cum. You whine and Seungmin kisses your chin.

"Did I hurt you? Are you alright?"

"You didn't hurt me. I am great." You move your head to face him and he kisses your cheek. Then your nose. Then your lips. "I am just concerned about the state of our bed."

"Oh, well. I think Jeff Dahmer had a cleaner bed." He chuckles, after taking a quick look at the sheets underneath. "It's my fault. I will clean them myself."

"You better." You laugh. Seungmin laughs with you and it's a soft exhalation of breath that tickles your cheek.

"Yes ma'am". He shifts a little in your embrace, and you turn over so your cheek can rub against his shoulder.

"Does it still hurt?" He asks.

You let it out on a satisfied sigh, your cramps long forgotten. “Nope.”

"Good." He smiles softly and he kisses you on your forehead. You wrap your arms tightly around him and bite his shoulder.

"How can you always know... wait, no, it doesn’t matter."

The voices of your kdramas are still a background noise.

Seungmin chuckles. "I told you. I love you. I always know."

©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[tojisun]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8tQfwXt/

this with biker!simon 🤭 the way he just melts omg

OH MY GOD I YELLED

nono fr omg the way he melted as soon as he heard it and the way he literally looks like hes about to lose his mind on the highway??? SCREAMING

!! suggestive - minors dni; sexting ig // biker!simon mlist

thinking about how this isn’t really something you’d usually send—you’re so used to his friends snooping on his phone so of course you two have to be careful. discreet.

but.

it’s been a while since you two have done anything more than rushed make out kisses. even the last time you two tried to squeeze a quickie, it was still, somehow, interrupted by your conflicting schedules.

you’ve tried to hold onto your patience. tried holding back even when all you wanted to do was jump simon because there he always is, beautiful and hot and just overall so goddamn attractive, it should be illegal to be that good looking.

but it’s been a while now. and you’ve missed him dearly.

it didn’t help that his last meet was all over social media, getting mixed into edits because of fucking course he is a tiktok edit now. you really can’t blame anyone—you were there, after all.

you’ve seen, first hand, the way he unveiled his new shop project before pairing up with that guy who you all still call konig. god knows what his name is but honestly you’re not even curious anymore. not when simon stole the goddamn show. again.

then the asshole had the audacity to point at you, black leather gloves stark against all the flashing cameras, and you watched as he made a little fucking heart with his hands. if the cameras weren’t going ham on simon then, they sure were after that little flirty stunt.

you felt yourself be engulfed in flames so, yeah. you really can’t blame anyone for sharing every pictures and videos they have of simon that day all over the internet.

still, somehow, you want to monopolize him. possess him.

and, if you’re not blaming anyone for sharing every sliver of simon’s meet, well, you hope no one can also blame you for what you’re about to do.

-

simon grunts as he finishes rounding a corner and begins easing into the highway. he rights himself up and blazes past the straggling sedans to get into the thick stretch of the road.

it’s not too windy today but dusk is breaking out and simon’s just glad he’s finally en route to your place. it’s been a long day and gods he’s missed you.

he gets the notification a few minutes in.

“hey, baby,” your message starts. “i missed you.” there’s a pause. “i’m wearing that lingerie you’ve always liked, you know the blue little thing? i forgot how lace feels since it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

simon’s breath is suspended in the pathway through his lungs, his eyes going wide as your words draw on. not even siri’s robotic voice can shake away simon’s thoughts—the vivid imagination of coming home to see you in that lace bralette and panties and—he grips the hand clutch tighter—the matching lace choker it came with.

fuck-

“might start without you, lover boy. so drive home—to me—safe, okay? see you soon, baby. love you.”

fuuuck.

simon books it home.

AAAAHHHH SCREAMINNN no bc this is me w simon!!

[darksigns-exe]

dors encore jusqu'au jour où tout ira bien* - noah sebastian x f!reader

*sleep on until the day when all is well

warnings: Swearing, discussions of mental health, depression, burnout and relationship issues

word count: 5.9k

note: This is a hefty one. It gets very angsty in certain parts, but if you know me, you know that I cannot bring myself to write a bad ending. Regardless of that, please think of yourself first and feel free to sit out on this one if you’re not in the headspace to dip into almost 6k of angst. Thank you to @deathblacksmoke and @circle-with-me for your feedback <3

masterlist | taglist sign-up

You’re not sure when it happened. 

It feels like one day everything was fine and the next he’s pushing his dinner across the plate as if it’s the most revolting thing he’s ever seen. 

You’ve never seen Noah like this. 

Sure, he gets quite sometimes. He has days when he locks himself behind the door of the studio and only emerges to eat and to take a bathroom break. 

This is different, though. 

When you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile or heard him laugh. You’re sure that it can’t have been long, surely you haven’t missed him tumbling into his hole. 

You don’t realise how bad it actually is until he starts to miss appointments, until you have to convince him to get out of bed just to have breakfast with you. He retreats back into the safety of your bedroom as soon as he’s finished with what you know to be too little food. You know that he’s only coming downstairs for your sake. And somehow that makes it worse. 

You sit in silence for a long while on that morning. You’ve watched him wither for too long already. And maybe that’s why you call Nick that morning, hoping that he can give you some kind of insight. Nick has all the answers, he always knows. 

He doesn’t this time. 

All he can offer is what you already know. 

Knowing Noah, he’ll be resistant to help until it's almost too late. Still, you make your way up the stairs towards your shared bedroom. They feel impossibly long today. It’s not like you’re going to break horrible news to him, but you know your boyfriend well enough to know that he’ll deny that anything is wrong. He’ll insist that everything is just fine, even when you both know that the exact opposite is the truth. 

The worst thing, you think, is that you don’t know why he feels like this. You’ve tried to ask him if he’s looking forward to the shows, to playing the new songs, but all you ever got in response was a half-hearted shrug. Watching him lose all passion for the thing he loved had broken a little piece inside of you.

You knock on the door before you crack it open just a little bit. 

“Noah?” you ask softly, not sure if he’s still awake or if sleep had already taken him over again.  

No reply. 

You force yourself through the crack in the door and close it as quietly as you can. He’s curled up on his side, turned away from the door. The sight breaks your heart even more. His body moves with slow breaths, and you’re still not sure if he’s awake or not. 

You sit on the edge of the bed behind him. You place your hand on his back, and he jumps at the touch, shrinking further away from you. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, love, but I’m here.” you can’t stop the tears from falling as you speak, “I don’t know how to help you, but we need to do something. I’m worried about you.”

He stays silent, but you can feel him draw in a deep breath under your palm. 

“Nick thinks that you should think about cancelling the shows.” 

You regret it as soon as you’ve said it. 

The look on his face when he finally turns to look at you hurts more than anything else. The anger that suddenly radiates from him makes scoot back from him instantly.

“And why the fuck would I do that? This is none of your business. I don’t go around telling you how to do your job, do I?” he seethes, “You have nothing to be worried about.”

“You’re obviously not well. I’m just trying to help.” you reply, feeling awfully helpless. 

Noah sits up, his back still turned to you. 

“If you think you know me so well, you should know that I’m fine. And I don’t need your help, either. Maybe you should find someone else to pity.” 

He’s out of the room before you can say another word. Deep down, you know that the anger isn’t real. You don’t know what has its claws in him, but you know that it’s bad. 

You don’t know where he disappears to after that. 

The studio is empty, and his keys have disappeared from the little chest of drawers by the door. A part of you wants to abandon him then and there. If he wants to soak in his misery, let him. But at the same time, you know that he needs you more than ever now, even if he isn’t ready to see that yet. 

You get a text from Jolly not long after that, letting you know that Noah showed up at his door looking all kinds of messed up. He lets you know that he’s out cold on the sofa for the time being, but that there needs to be a conversation before long. 

Jolly drops of a clearly miserable Noah the following morning. 

“You should shower before they get here.” Jolly says curtly as Noah disappears up the stairs once again. 

You both watch in silence as he disappears into the bathroom, and you let out a sigh when you hear the shower turn on. Without asking, you’re wrapped into a tight hug and finally the tears you’ve been holding back all day break free from you. 

“I talked to him.” he says, still holding you close, “I think he understood. The Nicks will be here in a bit, and we’ll talk about cancelling the shows.”

“Thank you.” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt. 

He gives you another squeeze before releasing you from the hug, “How are you doing? I know this has to be hard on you too.” 

You do feel a little bit bad for pouring your heart out to him like this, but it feels good to finally talk to someone besides yourself about any of this. 

Before long, your conversation is interrupted by the bathroom door opening again. You think Noah resembles a wet puppy more than he does a man, and it makes you feel impossibly bad for him. He stands at the top of the stairs, wrapped into one of the hoodies you know he likes, watching you intently. His hands wring together nervously, brow furrowed so deeply that you’re sure that it aches a little. You excuse yourself and swiftly come up to meet Noah. 

“Can we talk?” he asks quietly, barely managing to meet your eyes, “I want to apologise.”

You follow him into your bedroom.

Noah sits down at the foot of your bed. You sit next to him, a hands' width away from. 

“What I said — that was not okay. I shouldn’t have said that.” he remains focused on his still fidgeting hands, “I’m really sorry.”

The way he’d looked at you a day earlier still lingered in your mind, and even though you know that he didn’t actually mean what he said, you can’t help but feel hurt. 

“I know you are. I know you didn’t mean what you said. It still hurt.” you reach for his hands, interlacing yours with one of his, “But we’ll be okay. I just need you to talk to me. I don’t know what to do if you don’t talk to me.” 

Noah squeezes your hand just a little bit, “I’m sorry that I let it get this bad.”

You pull him into your arms and Noah folds almost instantly. His head drops to your shoulder. The fabric of your shirt grows a little damp, and the silent sob that shakes through his body makes your chest ache. 

The other two arrive within the next thirty minutes, with Folio running a little late because he once again misjudged the time it would take him to get to your place. You stay in the living room while they talk in the kitchen, despite Noah’s protest. As much as you want to sit with him and hold his hand, you know that he has to do this on his own. In the end, the conclusion is that the shows need to be cancelled so that Noah will have some kind of chance to recuperate. You overhear his quiet admission that maybe he has piled a little bit too much onto his plate, that he’s tried to do too much in too little time. You know that all he’s ever wanted was to see this band do well, and when they finally got that, he’d done everything he needed to make sure that they’d stay up there. And now, in retrospect, you know that you should have tried to do something earlier. 

Hindsight is evil like that. 

The three of them don’t stay for dinner. Nick stays for a while longer, but you can tell that Noah longs for the house to be quiet again. And he practically falls into your lap as soon as you’ve sat down next to him again. Your fingers card through his hair, just how he likes it, while you sit in silence. He falls asleep a little while later. His brow remains furrowed, and you can easily tell that he’s clenching his jaw. You let Noah rest like this for a while, before you carefully slip out from under him. He stirs a little, blinking up at you with drowsy eyes. You kneel down next to him, placing your hand against his cheek. 

“I’m gonna order us something for dinner. How do you feel about Korean?” 

His expression only changes minimally. 

“We can get whatever you want.” Your thumb drifts across his cheek, “But you need to eat something, darling.”

You end up heating up a portion of frozen tomato soup for each of you. You’re sure that you see a faint trace of a smile on his face when you place the grilled cheese in front of him. 

For the first time in weeks, you think that things are looking up. 

Despite your best efforts, you watch him sink deeper and deeper into this hole. He’s distant, drifting along as days pass and turn into weeks, and you feel as if there’s nothing that you can do to make it better. You’ve managed to convince him to see Ash at least once a week, but even that had felt like an uphill battle. You feel awful for making him leave the house when he so evidently doesn’t want to do that. At the same time, it feels like the only thing you can do besides holding him close when it gets so bad that he wakes in the middle of the night, body shaking with bitter sobs that sear right through you. 

You know that you can’t force Noah to talk. But at the same time you wish that he’d at least divulge a little bit of what is going on in his head, maybe that way you could do more. 

You think that he’s coming up on the other side when you find him in his studio one afternoon. It isn’t until you actually step inside the room that you notice his face buried in his hands. In a split second, you find yourself kneeling at his side. At first, he doesn’t move, remains stuck as he is. 

“Talk to me, Noah. Please.” You plead, placing your hand on him as best as you can with this weird angle, “I want to help, but I don’t know what you need if you don’t talk to me.”

Reluctantly, he swivels the chair towards you, allowing him to somewhat drape himself over you. The silent tears break your heart even further. You’ve seen him cry before, more in recent weeks than ever before, but this feels different. He sinks down in front of you, utterly broken down. And all you can do is hold him close, whispering soothing things to him. You don’t know if your words even reach his conscious mind, but maybe they sink into him somewhere, maybe deep down they find a home in him. 

“It doesn’t work. I can’t do it any more.” He whispers after some time. 

Your fingers card through his hair, trying to get him to look at you, but Noah resists, keeping his face pressed against your shoulder. 

“What doesn’t work?” You ask softly. 

Instead of giving you an answer, he throws a hesitant look towards the still opened editing software on his monitor. 

“Oh darling.” You sigh, wrapping him even tighter into your embrace.

“This is all I have.” He says feebly, “This is who I am.”

“Noah.”

He pulls away just a little bit. The only way you can describe the look on his face is panicked. 

“What am I going to do if I can’t do the one thing I’m good at any more? I — I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He hiccups in between words, and it’s evident that he’s barrelling towards a panic attack, “I can’t lose this.”

He descends into rambling, chest heaving frantically, and for a second you feel so very helpless. It doesn’t matter what you say, your words won’t reach him, no amount of it’ll be okay can fix this, and it hurts so terribly. 

You place your hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look at you as a last ditch effort. 

“Look at me, Noah.” You’re not sure where you find the energy to be this firm with him, “I need you to listen to me now, okay? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens. The guys aren’t going anywhere. The band isn’t going anywhere. Whatever happens, we’re all here. Your friends are here, and we love you so much. It doesn’t matter how much time you need. We’ll all be here when you’re ready. And even if that’s in a month or a year. And if it gets worse, and you never get there again, we’ll still be here. No one is going to leave. I won’t leave.” 

He’s quieted down to sniffles by then. His cheeks are so awfully red and splotchy, and you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look more exhausted before. 

“I know this is scary. And I know that we can make it through this, but I need you to talk to me. Watching you suffer through this in silence hurts a lot. I feel so helpless watching you fall apart like this.”

“I’m just so scared of losing all of this.” The admission comes so quietly, “What if we can’t keep up with the demand? What if we can’t —“

“What happened to doing whatever you want regardless of how it’ll sell?” You reach for his hand instead, “I know this sudden rise felt good, but this is not sustainable. You can’t spend months on the road, barely sleeping, just so you can keep up with all of this. This — the band, the fans, the music wouldn’t be here without you. All of you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly. 

“We’ll figure this out, Noah.” You press a kiss to the back of his still trembling hand, “I promise.”

He lets out a heavy breath, folding in on himself just a little bit. 

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with this.” He sighs. 

“I would do it over and over again. As often as I have to. And I know that you’d do the same for me.” 

Noah’s the one who brings up the idea of a vacation. He doesn’t make a direct suggestion, but you find a print out of an Airbnb in Oregon on the kitchen table one morning, and that’s good enough for you. You’re glad for any kind of active participation he’s willing to give. It’s been a difficult few weeks, but you think that he’s starting to feel a little better. On some days, you think that he’s almost back on top. He’s all smiles and sweet words, just to fall back down the next day. It’s a slow climb, but you’re moving forwards. 

Oregon will be nice. 

The drive is nice, albeit awfully long. Noah had admitted that he didn’t feel good enough to drive, and you’re glad that he’s able to see what he is and isn’t ready for. He seems to be quite comfortable navigating and selecting music, though. You don’t say anything when you hear him humming along to one of the songs, afraid that it’ll make him shrink back into his shell. Hearing his dumb little laugh at a street sign reading Weed gives you a little bit of hope. 

In the months since Noah had been at home, the intimate side of your relationship had been practically non-existent. For a while you’d felt as if you were living with a friend rather than your boyfriend of three years. Noah had never one to shy away from intimacy, your relationship had always been interlaced with soft touches and kisses. To watch him recoil at your touch had been incredibly hurtful, even when you knew - or rather hoped - that it was only a momentary thing. 

By the time your first week in Oregon is almost over, you dare to let your hands wander across his chest once again. It’s strangely foreign. You’d been so used to touching him like this, and now it almost feels as if you have relearn everything again. 

You’ve laid awake for the past hour. He looks much more relaxed now compared to some weeks earlier. The persistent furrow in his brow is slowly easing, and his sleep seems to be a little more restful. 

You do feel a little bad for disturbing his much-needed rest, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so beautiful in the warm morning light falling through the open sliver in the curtains. 

Your fingers trail across the streak of light that runs across his tummy and chest. The muscles twitch beneath your touch, but he doesn’t quite stir yet. You try to keep your touch as gentle as you can. Noah only wakes when your fingers brush against his hip. He stretches, letting you a soft noise as he does. There’s no protest when you trace up the length of his side. He’s still so sleepy, eyes all soft and warm, and you absolutely have to kiss him. 

He leans into your hand when you place it against his cheek. You draw him in for a kiss for what feels like the first time in months. It’s so gentle and chaste, barely there, but it seems to ignite something in Noah. A second later you find yourself on your back, with him hovering above you. One of your hands drifts along his back, before it settles at his waist, guiding him towards you. 

It’s over as quickly as it has started. 

“I can’t.” He says quietly, forehead once again dropped against your shoulder. 

“It’s okay, honey. We don’t have to.” You soothe, carefully threading your fingers into his hair, “We can just have a little cuddle instead.”

“I can’t.” He looks absolutely miserable when he detaches himself from you, “It doesn’t work. This is so fucking embarrassing.”

You realise then when he means. The agony and embarrassment on his face make you wish that you could just magic it all away. 

You want him back, not just for yourself but because you can see that this is torture for him too. 

“I’m sorry.” Noah adds quietly, “I’m — I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You don’t let go of him though and his efforts to leave are quickly squashed when he flops back down next to you. 

“Can you look at me for a moment, Noah?” He meets your eyes so hesitantly. 

He almost looks as if he’s just waiting to be told what a disappointment he is and somehow that hurts even more. 

“It’s okay. I’m not upset, and I don’t think less of you because of it. It’ll come back.” You say earnestly, hoping that he’ll take at least some of it to heart, “You’re still my boyfriend and I love you so much regardless of what you can or can’t do at the moment. I know you love me, you don’t have to sleep with me to show that.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flitting across your face nervously, before he settles into the slightest hint of a content smile. 

“I don’t deserve you.” 

“You do. You deserve to be treated with love and respect, especially when you need it most.” 

“I just wish that I could give some of it back.”

“You have. And in time you will again. But right now, it’s my turn to make sure that you know that you’re safe and loved.” 

His expression changes into something you can’t quite place yet. Maybe it’s realisation, maybe it’s relief, or a mixture of both. 

Noah shifts a little closer to you, taking your hands into his, “Thank you. You’ve been so patient with me.”

“Of course. It’ll always be you and me, okay? We’ve gotten through so much, we’ll get through this, too. You’ve already come so far, and I’m so proud of you.”

At the end of your second week, you’d called the owners to extend your stay for another week. Being away from home like this was good for him and if he needed a little more time here then so be it. You could thankfully afford that luxury. 

You find him furiously scribbling in a notebook when you come back from the store one afternoon. You couldn’t remember if he’d brought one of his or if he’d borrowed yours, but whatever had sprung into his mind was important enough for him to need to get it onto paper immediately. You watch him from the doorway for a moment, not wanting to disturb him just yet. Instead, you bring the rest of your shopping into the house as quietly as you can. Noah comes to meet you at the door just as you bring in the last bag.

“You’re back quick.” he states somewhat blankly. 

“Didn’t want you to be alone for too long.” you reply, tossing the pack of toilet roll towards him, “Can you get one of the bags?” 

His face turns down into a frown, before he reaches for one of the bags and marches off into the depths of the house. 

As much as his overall mood has improved, it’s still so changeable. The smallest thing tips him off and you either end up at each other's throats or with you cradling him in your arms while he tries to quiet down his tears. You’re so tired of the fighting, though. You don’t mind doing this for him, in fact you do it gladly, but sometimes it exhausts you. The boys had been your greatest crutch, checking in with you once in a while to make sure you were also taking care of yourself, and you are more than grateful for it. All three of them had been so incredibly supportive in their own ways. As soon as you’d mentioned that you were heading up to Oregon for a bit, Folio had sent you link after link with recommendations of things to do and look at. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him that you were glad if you’d get Noah to sit outside with you in the evenings. You had eventually managed to convince Noah to go on little walks with you, just to get him out of the house and moving a little bit. In the end, he had been the one who had dragged you out of the door in the morning so that you could get to that one nice spot before the tourists got there. 

Noah is nowhere to be seen when you enter the kitchen. The bags are haphazardly placed in front of the counter, with no sight of him anywhere. 

Your call of his name remains unanswered. 

When you don’t see him on the bench out on the back porch, you make your way through the house, checking various rooms until you find him once again sequestered away in the bedroom. 

“Baby?” you ask softly, “Everything okay?” 

Noah makes a somewhat indignant sound then, and you swear that you see him rolling his eyes. 

“Noah.” 

“You can stop babying me. I’m not incapable of living without you.” he shoots back, “You don’t need to hound me all day. I’ll be fine.” 

“I just want to –” 

He scoffs, “I know you just want to help. And why do you think I need your help? I’m not – I don’t need you to pity me.” 

The first tears fall before your jaw has the chance to tremble. 

You try not to listen to the bitter words he hurls at you. They slowly chip away at your confidence. 

“I’m not some lost puppy you need to take care of.” 

Somehow, that’s your last straw. 

“You know what, Noah. I’m sorry for putting my life on the back burner for you. I’m sorry that I tried to help the man I love.” you turn on your heels, leaving the room before he can throw more vitriol your way. 

Your feet carry outside and down the pathway towards the river. Your chest feels so awfully tight. There’s only so much you can take, and hearing him discredit everything you’ve done for him feels as if he’s struck a sword straight through your chest. You collapse on the low bench in front of the firepit you haven’t had the chance to use yet. As much as you try to convince yourself that he doesn’t actually mean what he said, you can’t quite bring yourself to do so. The anger on his face seemed so real. Maybe you had gone a little overboard with your care. All you had wanted was for him to feel better, you had never meant to overstep. 

It feels so heartbreaking. 

Out of all the fights you’ve had recently, this one feels the most devastating. Although, you’re not even sure if you can call this a fight. 

You don’t know if you can come back from this. 

The longer you sit in silence, the worse the feeling gets. Somehow, you had hoped that he’d come out and find you, that he’d try to fix it. Instead, you’re out here on your own, shivering as the air gets colder and colder. You’re not sure how long you’re out here, but no matter how much you try, you can’t will yourself to head back inside. 

The call of your name barely reaches you, not even the orb of the torch you’d brought two days into your stay makes you look up. It’s only when his figure crouches in front of you, hands desperately smoothing along your shoulders and face. 

“You’re freezing.” his voice trembles when he speaks, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

His sweater is draped across your shoulders, his warmth sinks into you almost immediately. 

Noah’s hands curl around yours, holding them just a little bit too tightly. He’s shaking like a leaf. It’s too dark to make out the intricacies of his face, but the fear is obvious. 

“I– I couldn’t find you inside. I didn’t know where you’d gone.” the words rush from his mouth so quickly that he stumbles across a few of them, “I’m so sorry. Let’s get you inside. Please, my love.” 

When you don’t immediately move, his forehead drops to your knees, hands tucked under him so that he can press his lips to your palms. 

“I wish I could take it all back. I’m such an ass. Fuck, you do so much for me and I can’t even say thank you for it.” another kiss to your palms, “Please come inside with me. I don’t want you to get ill because of me.” 

Noah rises to his feet, slowly pulling you with him. 

His hand remains wrapped around yours, as if he’s scared that you’ll vanish again. Through the open sliding door, you can already smell what you think is a pasta bake. Nothing fancy, but he always manages to whip up something good and warming for you. 

He ushers you towards the table, making you sit down on one of the chairs. Within a moment, he places a somewhat cooled cup of tea in your hands. 

“I thought that you’d gone to the other bedroom and I – I feel so bad that I never checked. I just wanted to give you space after all of that and – and now this.” he sits on the chair next to you, hands writhing in his lap, “I don’t know how I can fix this. What I said – I keep fucking up. You’ve given up so much for me, and this is what I do in return. I can’t take it back. I said all of that, and I know that it was incredibly hurtful. But if there’s some way that you’ll forgive me – it doesn’t matter what you need from me – I’ll do it. But if you need me to –” he swallows back tears and maybe that’s when you realise how serious is about this, “If you need me to leave I will. I can be gone by tomorrow if you want that.” 

“Don’t leave.” your voice feels so rough, so shaky, “Please.” 

The tears that roll down his cheek feel so loud when then drop onto the hardwood below your feet. 

“I won’t.” his hands find yours once more, “We can fix this. I don’t want to feel like this any more, but – I need you. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.”

You look at your joined hands. You’ve always thought that they fit together so perfectly, two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle made exactly for each other. There’s no one else who fits you like he does. Sure, you could try and jam two pieces together, but it’ll never be right like this. 

“I told you that I’ll always be here, didn’t I?” you say, still looking at where his hands flex around yours, “I meant that. I don’t know if I could love anyone else.” 

His lips press together so tightly that the colour flees from them. 

“We’ve come too far to give up on this now, Noah. We’ll figure this out, but we need to be better – both of us.”

“I know.” he casts his eyes low, “When we’re back home I’m gonna get myself back into therapy. I promise you that I’ll get myself back on my feet.” 

You free one of your hands from his grasp, so that you can bring it up to his cheek, “We can make it through this. We’ll be alright.” 

Noah eyes you for a moment before he finally speaks up, “Can – can I kiss you?” 

Even if you wanted to, you can’t stop the smile from breaking onto your face, “Please.” 

He surges forward then, pressing his lips to yours so sweetly. He cradles your face in his hands, keeping you close to him until you’re both breathless. 

“I love you, but I think your pasta is about to burn.” you whisper after a few more blissful moments. 

Noah jumps up with a swear, and for the first time in months you can see his previous self break through this shell. 

There’s a tentative plan for the band to return to the stage in late January, giving you another two – almost three months – of this quiet life. Sometimes you think that Noah feels quite comfortable being just a boyfriend and not a trillion other things on top of it. Every day he rises a little easier, seems a little more secure in himself again. Slowly but surely the music returns into his life, and before long he’s pushing his notebook into your field of vision again. 

“Can you have a look at this? I don’t know how I feel about it.” he asks, slumping down next to you. 

You put down your phone and pick the book from his hands. You’ve always loved his boyish handwriting. Something tells you that this isn’t meant for Bad Omens or anyone else's eyes. It’s surprisingly confessional, a somewhat fictionalised account of the last few months that all in all wraps around a single steady thread – you. It’s not a hymn to your efforts, but rather an acknowledgement of everything you had given him and sacrificed because of him. 

Noah's hand wraps around yours. The crowd a few meters away from you roars as the screen changes once again. 

“You’ll be fine, honey.” you soothe, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Feels like I’m doing this for the first time.” 

It’s been almost a year, of course he’d be a little nervous. But you know that he’ll do his best, and that’s all everyone could ever ask for. 

“I know. I can’t be with you up there, but I’m right here. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”

He nods, more to reassure himself than to acknowledge what you said. 

“You’re almost up.” someone says from behind you.

Noah shakes himself out of his stasis. 

“Alright.” he says to himself, “Wish me luck?” 

“You don’t need luck.” you pull him in for a kiss, “I love you. Go do your thing.” 

“I love you.” 

He steals another kiss, before he pulls that damned ski mask over his head. Just a moment later he’s up the stairs and as soon as you hear their screams you know that the little bit of fear that still sat on his shoulder has melted away.

From your position you can watch the show quite comfortably. It takes Noah a moment to get back into the stage persona, but once they’re through the first song, it feels as if he had never stopped doing it. Seeing him back on his feet like this fills you with absolute joy. 

They’re nearing the end of the set when Noah actually addresses their somewhat forced break. 

“We’ve been away for a little bit. I’m sorry if that messed with your plans, but it was a long time coming. We’re all incredibly thankful for what you’ve made possible for us, and we’ve always tried to give all of that back. Maybe we – I’ve tried a little too hard. What I’m trying to say is that it’s thanks to all of your support that I could take this step back, and I’ll never forget that. But I also have to thank someone else.” he turns towards you, giving you that smile of his that makes you feel as if you’ve just fallen in love with him, “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.” 

Whatever he says after that is drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. Noah leads them into the last song of the set so effortlessly. 

The past months still linger with you, and they will for a while longer. In the end, it was worth every single tear. You’d fought tooth and nail for this – both of you had. And you’re so glad that you did it. 

As soon as the set is over, Noah comes barrelling down the stairs towards you. You’re wrapped into his arms. You return the embrace immediately, holding him to you as tightly as you can. For a long moment, both of you remain silent, content to just hold each other close. 

“Thank you, my love.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “For everything.”

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

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@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake

[donniesgirlie]

Another Donnie fic?? Yes, and? Peep the user then say smth😤

(I needed a word for sleep that started with a "k," so I used what Google said was British slang for "sleep" - kip.)

Kisses and Kips: Donatello x F! Reader

.

"Donnieeeeee~" You pull at the side of the doorframe, swinging yourself in and out of the lab as you draw out his name.

He had told you he'd join you in bed an hour ago under the guise of "5 more minutes." You get why he is working so hard, you do. With the recent uptick of Footclan activity, he needed to get the truck up and running again as soon as possible, but goddamn it- you just want to cuddle your boyfriend. You don't think it's too big of an ask, especially considering he's been working on that damn gadget for 3 days now with little to no breaks.

With a sigh and light shake of his head, Donnie sets down his soldering iron. "Yes, sweetie?"

You can hear the edge to his voice, strained from disuse and tilted with frustration. He slips his glasses off to pinch between his eyes, exhaustion clear on his face.

"Come to bed?" No point beating around the bush.

He slips his glasses back on and swivels back to his work.

"I can't. I need to finish this."

You let go of the frame and walk over to him. "You've been up over 48 hours, you're clearly exhausted, and you should rest - even if just for a few hours."

"Y/n, I'm perfectly capable of determining what I do or don't need. Just go to bed, I'll be there soon." You know he's not upset with you, just that the truck is giving him so much trouble, so you ignore his tone.

"You said that last night. And the night before." You accuse.

He doesn't answer. He just furrows his brow and hunches over the circut board even more.

You place your hands on his shoulders, lightly massaging as you lean down to pepper kisses along his neck. If he doesn't want to take care of himself, then you just have to play dirty.

You feel him freeze under you, the soft sizzling of metal stopping abruptly.

"Please come to bed?" You pout, nuzzling your face into him. "I miss you..."

You can feel more than hear the sharp stutter of his breath as his head slightly turns toward you.

Not quite there, yet, then. You drag your hands to his chest, gently tracing along his plastron as you press yourself further into his shell.

He places the soldering iron down.

"Donnie," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Please sleep with me?"

He chokes back a stutter at your choice of words, skin heating under your touch. Donatello heaves out a breath before beginning to switch everything off and put it in its place.

"Fine- fine! You win." He mumbles.

You release your hold on him as he stands, easily towering over you as he turns to offer you his hand. "Let's go to bed."

You return his exasperated smile as you take it, pulling him out of the lab and through the lair to his room. Donnie lets out a snorted laugh at your enthusiasm.

"What?" You laugh with him. "I missed my boyfriend."

Once you're in his room, Donnie all but tackles you, turning mid-air so you land on top of him on his bed. He groans deep in his chest as soon as he hits the plush mattress, sleep deprivation finally catching up with him as he finally faces what he's been missing for the last 72 hours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against him as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you too, baby." He presses a kiss on the crown of your head before reaching to turn the light off. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

[17020]

AFTERMATH.

Reo Mikage faces the aftermath of his actions, and his ex-girlfriend (?) tries to move on. Part two of "ONE." Warnings: Reo Mikage, swearing, violence, fake everything!!! 3.6k angst to fluff to angst(???), both platonic and romantic relationships here, pro! post! bllk boys, no beta because how. this is too long.

REO MIKAGE was an absolute mess.

His mind was of no help, either. The image of you and Seishiro at the club was on his mind, replaying constantly like a broken record. The minute he stepped outside, he met with his white-haired best friend, who received him with open arms.

"I'm so sorry she did that" he apologized, "it's better that she did this now rather than later. Plenty of fish in the sea."

Many tears (and many drinks inside Seishiro's apartment) later, Reo Mikage had been consumed by delusion. The more words that came off his best friend's mouth, the more determined he had become. Because yes, his best friend was right: there were plenty of fish in the sea, and instead of drowning in his own sea of tears, he should swim and see what he can find.

"And what you can find, is, a golden crown with two lions at its sides."

It was a gamble, sure. To distract his broken-hearted best friend with their upcoming matches and championships could earn him an earful, but it was their job after all. Reo surprisingly took it well, and made it his goal to stick to football, as relationships were a hassle. The Premier League was slowly coming to an end, and Champions League just reached quarterfinals. Football was forever. Besides, according to Seishiro, "trophies can't cheat on you, now, can they?"

Delusion had struck him unlike ever before. Reo Mikage was a like a sponge cake, soaking up his best friend's poisonous, yet effective advice. He became a monster, letting his frustrations out on every training session. Reo overworked himself, to the point where he barely had any rest, and it showed.

Draws, losses, yellow and red colored cards raised. Reo Mikage had reached a new (professional) low. A match against Luton was scheduled to take place in a few days, and what came next came as a shock to no one, except for Reo and his loyal companion.

Reo Mikage was to be benched for the next few matches of the season.

The issue with the sponge cake of Reo Mikage was, that he was undercooked. Rising to the very top, then completely deflating after cooling. A hard exterior with a liquid interior, yet to solidify. What seemed like his peak to him, was an all-time low for his peers.

The match against Crystal Palace ended with him earning a red card, after a display of violent conduct against another player. The locker room was like entering a colosseum, as everyone from Manshine City watched Reo Mikage receive lecture after lecture. The last lecture, though, stood out to him.

"As soon as you stepped into this stadium you should've left your home life behind, because you're here to play ball, not with women's feelings. Don't know why you're the one sulking, if you're the one who caused hurt."

Gasps and 'oohs' were barely heard as the everyone in the locker room suddenly quieted down. Reo's eye twitched.

"Say that again."

The man in front of him sighed. "As soon as you stepped into this stadium you should've left your—"

Before he could finish his sentence, his head hit the metal behind him, and a streak of blood ran down his nostril. Reo Mikage had swung at the man in front of him, pushing him towards his locker. "Not sure why you're called a panther when you're so fucking slow."

The man tried to maintain his composure, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood off his nose. "Not sure why you treated Yn like shit, she didn't even cheat."

"What do you know?"

"I know your piece of shit lackey lied to you" the man facing Reo retorted, raising his voice. "I sat in the booth in front of them, Nagi was the one to grab her hand. You should really use glasses you blind bitch."

Reo's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise. He was speechless, turning to his best friend and awaiting his response. In return, Seishiro averted his gaze with a sour expression on his face. It was a no brainer. It was the face of a guilty man.

"It's not true, right? Seishiro?"

Silence.

"Nagi it's not true, though, right? Slowpoke's just talking out of his ass, right?"

Absolute. Deafening. Silence.

"Look, I did you a favor" he spoke up, finally daring to look at his best friend in the eye. "She was a parasite that made you sloppy."

He was shocked, with no words able to come out of his mouth. The persona he had built for the past few weeks came crumbling down before all his peers as he realized what he had done. He was an asshole, and had been led astray by toxicity.

Reo Mikage collapsed.

Prior to getting punched in the face, CHIGIRI HYOMA had spent every minute of his time by your side.

After Reo had left on that fateful night, Chigiri offered a warm, tight embrace, as well as a late night-drive to your apartment, with a quick stop at the nearest convenience store. He was certain you were going to need comfort, and after accidentally watching the whole debacle, it was the least he could do.

You woke up the next morning, seemingly confused as to how you managed to get yourself home. Last night had been a blur, both mentally and physically; your teary-eyed vision was not of any help. Turning to your nightstand, you were stunned.

A gift basket.

It was made up of essentials. Pills (for the raging headache after a hectic night out, and also for your liver), a face mask and eye patches (for the puffiness after crying), cold medication (because crying can lead to a small, yet annoying cold), and electrolytes to help restore your body. It was also, strangely enough, made up of your favorites. Favorite snacks (both salty and sweet), favorite beverage, and favorite... flowers. With a note. Flowers? From who?

'Hope you feel better :)'

Slowly (and carefully), you got up from your bed, sliding your feet into your slippers and heading out towards your kitchen. What caught you off guard, was, the fact that a red-haired Manshine City player sat comfortably on your couch, turning his head your way.

"Morning, Yn. How'd you sleep? You like the basket I left there for you?"

"Respectfully, Chigiri, how the hell did you get in here?"

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "I guess you don't remember, but I dropped you off after last night to make sure you got home safe. You gave me your keys and told me to come back in the morning."

So, you were that drunk.

Before you could even apologize, the doorbell rang. Chigiri stood up from your couch, making his way towards the door and opening it, only to reveal a delivery guy with a few boxes in his hands. Chigiri received the boxes, handing the guy some bills. He turned around and pushed the door closed with his back, walking towards your dinner table and setting the boxes there.

"I got us some toast and smoothies. You need to replenish your body with sodium and carbs after a night out, y'know?"

It was nice, you had to admit. To be taken care of after such a horrific night was precisely what you needed. It was a safe space which you clearly needed: the breakfast was delicious, and Chigiri's company was comforting. It was therapeutic, with you telling him how you felt and letting a few tears slip, and him listening to every word while using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe your tears away.

It was so nice, in fact, that you had not realized that the breakfast turned into a twelve hour hang out, which later turned to weekly hangouts, which later became 'let's just let Chigiri move in and basically become my roommate' hang-outs.

He was the company you never knew you needed, a breath of fresh air, if you will. Every day off he had meant a new activity for you two to try out, a new adventure, and a new fond memory. From painting mugs, to visiting zoos and aquariums, baking, a walk in the park—you name it, you and Chigiri had done it all.

It was hard not to notice the lingering touches, the lost puppy eyes, excuses to be near each other. It was bound to happen. For the past few months, he had been by your side, helping you heal and holding your hand on each step of the way. You wondered if he felt forced to do so, or if he genuinely cared. His actions seemed to insinuate that he did, but there was a sprinkle of doubt on your mind. You guessed you had Reo to blame for that.

It was too soon. Besides, there was the possibility he did this out of friendship, not out of love. Nonetheless, you were certain of one thing: Hyoma Chigiri had become your safe space.

The day of the altercation, Hyoma made sure to stop by his place to clean up his nose before going to yours. He did not want for you to find out, because it really was not relevant, as it could set back your progress towards healing completely.

As he stepped onto the elevator of your apartment complex, he pressed the button of your floor. He felt his phone buzz, and as he pulled it out from his pocket, he read it was a message from Reo.

Mikage I'm sorry. I didn't know the truth about everything, and I'm sorry I punched you.

Hyoma sighed.

Chigiri Say sorry to Yn, not me. (xxx)-(xxx)-(xxxx) That's my therapist. Clearly you need her more than I do. Don't even think of apologizing until you've changed. She doesn't need to deal with your shit right now.

The elevator's doors opened, and he stepped up to your door. With a few knocks, the door opened to reveal a happy you. A better you, that had a giddy smile on her face, instead of her lips curled downwards with tears running down her cheeks. A healed you, that was ready to take on the world, as her eyes gleamed with life.

"Are you ready, Hyo?"

He nodded as he took your hand in his, stepping back inside the elevator with you, going down towards the parking. After the match against Crystal Palace (and its gruesome aftermath), you offered to treat him to some sweets at a coffee shop you both liked.

As you and him arrived at the coffee shop, his phone began to buzz like crazy. His phone began to heat up from the amount of text messages he was receiving. He opened them, only to realize that he was in trouble. The first message he opened was a link from Isagi, which was a tweet leading to a news article.

Isagi "CHIGIRI HYOMA PUNCHED IN THE FACE BY MIKAGE REO IN LOCKER ROOM ALTERCATION. The red panther received a punch after winning 4-2 against Crystal Palace. A thread." This true?

Bachira WELL DID YOU FIGHT BACK?? DO WE NEED TO BOOK A FLIGHT???

Isagi More importantly, does Yn know?

He quickly turned his phone off as he held the door open for you, guiding you to a secluded table at the back of the shop. It was for privacy, because Hyoma Chigiri was one of England's most popular players after all.

It was not unusual for you and him to receive so many weird stares. Especially with the disguises you had on.

It was tradition, and it was something you did even with Mikage. In order to avoid crazy fans or paparazzi, you opted for stupid disguises, like sunglasses, hoodies, sun hats, caps, and more. This time was no different, with Hyoma having his hair tied into a bun, wearing a gray hoodie and a pair of polarized wraparound sunglasses. You, instead, opted for a cap and cateye sheer sunglasses.

The staring felt... somewhat strange. People from the coffee shop already knew you and Hyoma since you frequented the shop, but this time, their gazes lingered a bit longer than last time.

"Umm... Hyo... why's everyone staring at you?" you questioned, genuinely concerned as to why everyone stared at the man in front of you.

"Probably has to do with the fact that I screwed up in our match against Luton" he shrugged, feigning indifference.

Hyoma was glad that you had decided to block both your name and Reo's on your social media tags. It was done for obvious reasons, of course. The mere thought of Reo Mikage would have made your soul leave your body (in a bad way), so you opted to block both of your names to avoid gossip and the media trying to decipher your breakup.

This meant, of course, that only Hyoma and the rest of the world could see the tweets, the paparazzi pictures of you two, the speculation, the blind items of 'trusted sources' (which were garbage), and the overall buzz on what was deemed 'football's biggest love heist'. In the public eye, Hyoma Chigiri was a home-wrecker. A home-wrecker that fell HARD for his teammates ex-girlfriend. A total simp.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain red-head had his eye on you for some time. To him, you had been off-limits. Before, he felt utmost respect for Reo, so there was no breaking 'bro-code' when Reo told him and Seishiro that he was starting to fall in love with you. More importantly, he knew that, as long as you were happy, he was happy, even if it was with someone else. Naturally, that initial attraction faded over time, settling to admire you as a friend instead.

Hyoma internally cursed as he realized that maybe it did not fade completely, and that maybe, just maybe, he had been given a second chance. There was no more 'bro-code', seeing as him and his 'bro' had fallen out, and he already was a home-wrecker to the media, so there really was nothing to lose in regards to reputation.

What Hyoma Chigiri was afraid of losing was you.

He feared that if he were to confess, the beautiful 'whatever-it-was' that you two had (because he knew for a fact this was not a friendship) might end due to his feelings being overwhelming for you. If anyone was to make the first move, it had to be you.

And Hyoma was so glad you did.

After the coffee shop, he drove you back to your place. Hyoma offered to order takeout as a way to thank you for the coffee shop snacks. It was getting late, and as per usual, he was going to spend the night. The couch was all set up and ready for him. It had his blanket and his favorite pillow, along with a stuffed animal (a panther) which you had gotten for him at the zoo. He was about to lay down, when your voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hyo... can you sleep in my room tonight?"

He spared no time in following you to your room, with his blanket and pillow in hand. As you climbed onto your bed, he set the pillow and blanket on the floor. You laughed as you shook your head, patting the spot on your bed next to you. "I meant up here, with me."

Carefully (and while trying to maintain his cool), Hyoma climbed up to the spot next to you. You scooched over to his side, placing your head on his chest and your arms wrapped around his torso. Feeling him tense up, you slowly loosened your grip.

"I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to do that, Hyo. I'm so sorry."

His arms were now on top of yours, readjusting them, thus tightening your grip. He bent down to leave a kiss on your forehead, reassuring you that it was more than okay for you to do so. A content sigh escaped your lips. "I like this" you smiled, "I like us."

"I like us too, princess."

It had been a year since you last saw Mikage.

It had also been around six months since the wish Hyoma Chigiri pushed away for so long had, at last, come to fruition, with him honored to be given the opportunity to call you his girlfriend.

The relationship was kept private. It was as if an unspoken agreement had been settled, with yours and Hyoma's friends not daring to ask about the status of your relationship, or if you had finally settled on a label other than 'just friends.' Aside from the usual photos taken by fans or paparazzi on the street, there were no public appearances or statements to clear things up.

Until the end-of-season party.

The end-of-season parties were hosted by each club once the season is finalized, usually sending out special guest invites to players from other clubs, or even having joint celebrations with them. Manshine City sent their invites, reaching former members of Blue Lock, and even providing each guest with a plus one.

There was no doubt on Hyoma's mind. It was time to go public.

It did not take long for you to be convinced to attend, seeing as this would be you and Hyoma's debut as an official couple. Media involvement was at an all-time high, seeing as there was a rise in popularity for Manshine ever since the 'internal conflicts' between players were shown to the public.

As you got ready for Manshine's end-of season party, you noticed a medium sized velvety box on your vanity. Curious, you opened it, revealing a beautiful necklace, at the center being a pendant in the shape of an initial. Your initial. As you took it out of the box, you heard your boyfriend's footsteps as he walked into your room.

"Hope you like it. Your name is lovely, so own it."

He took the necklace from your hands, swiftly placing it on your neck. Your phone began to ring, the caller ID reading Isagi's name. He had called to let you know he and Bachira were parked outside the apartment, waiting for you and Hyoma. Seeing as they ended up in Champions League quarterfinals and decided to stick around for a while in London, it was no surprise they got guest invites to Manshine's party. This meant carpooling was mandatory.

The party was flooded with journalists.

It was to be expected, of course. As players arrived, journalists approached them as if on queue, each one had a camera and a microphone on hand, as they were expected to cover the whole event.

So it was no surprise when you and Hyoma got approached by a journalist, hoping to ask your boyfriend a few questions about his thoughts on the season, as well as to congratulate him on his performance. The journalist asked Hyoma who was 'the gorgeous woman who stood at his side', to which he proudly smiled, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"She's the love of my life."

After a cordial 'congratulations' and a few pictures (which were definitely going to trend on the internet for weeks), you excused yourself as you walked towards Isagi and Bachira, wanting Hyoma to have a one-on-one with the journalist. You were about to approach them, only to be stopped by a tap on your shoulder. You turned around, your eyes widening in astonishment.

"Hi."

"Oh... umm... hi Mikage."

'This is going to be one hell of a night' you thought, unsure of how the hell Reo Mikage had the balls to actually strike up a conversation. His gaze lowered from your eyes to your chest, fixated on the sparky initial which hung on the shiny, silver chain.

"Uhh... nice necklace."

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry."

Flabbergasted, you raised your eyebrows. He sighed as his gaze was now focused on the ground, as he was unable to look you in the eye. You could tell he was beyond nervous, as he fidgeted with the sleeves of his suit.

"I'm really sorry, Yn. I let my emotions get the better of me, and more importantly, I didn't trust you. I'm sorry that I didn't hear your side of things and just broke things off like that. I've been to therapy since then, and I thought now was the right time to apologize."

You stood there utterly dumbfounded, unsure of how to react. One one hand, it felt soothing to know your ex-boyfriend finally worked on himself, but even then, his actions still cut you deeply, and a part of you wished he never showed his face again. Even with mixed feelings, the corners of your lips raised to form a smile.

"It's okay, Mikage. Let's leave that in the past, okay?"

Sure, Mikage was the one who left you hurting, feeling like you were stuck at the bottom of a well with no one left to hear your pleas. He was the one to destroy you completely, after not caring enough to know your side or even listen to what you had to say. But if there was one thing you learned with Hyoma, it was that, to be at peace with yourself, sometimes it was better to forgive.

Mikage's eyes glimmered as tears threatened to trickle down his face, a smile growing on his face. Slowly, his hand reached for yours.

"Do you think we can... you know... give us another..."

You wasted no time in pulling back your hand.

"I hope you find true joy, Mikage, I really do. I just hope I never get to hear about it."

He slowly inhaled, letting out a shaky breath. You felt a strong arm wrap itself around your waist, and as you looked to your side, there was your boyfriend, Hyoma.

"Everything okay here?"

Mikage's eyes met with the redhead's.

"No—yeah—I was just leaving" he stuttered, "seems like you've got it from here."

"Don't you worry, yeah? I got her now."