#im somewhere between dyed and not caring

[thebleedingeffect]

On god I wish I could talk to someone rn in order to iron out some details of my fic but it is one: so so very late, two: am sleepy, three: this fic is fucking haunting me cause there's several ways I can do this and I'm gonna fucking explode

[murdrdocs]

saber tooth | f. odair

description. just two days out from the Games, your mentor and best friend, finnick odair, comes to your room late at night in a mutual fit of insomnia to fulfill your (potentially) dying wish 

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, loss of virginity sans p in v, canon-complicit angst, mentions of finnick’s trafficking, best friends to lovers, reader’s a tribute, finnick’s her mentor, extremely brief misunderstandings, soft dom finnick, pleasure dom finnick, brief mention of drug use (one line), finnick and annie were never together but he mentored her, he rlly cares abt r :((, giggly sex (sometimes), throw away line abt lack of body hair but i rlly like body hair

a/n: whaddup whaddup! this started as a blurb but it um ,,, clearly expanded. there’s no p in v simply bc im so tired rn however i would like to continue this in the future if my mind would allow it :) also the title has nothing to do with the fic i was just listening to easily by chuck inglish

word count: 4k+ 

part 2

A week of anticipation, festivities, and celebration for the Capitol, was a week of anxiety, tears muffled into pillows, and wishing to be somewhere else for you. 

The week leading up to the 72nd Hunger Games. 

The Reaping, Opening Ceremony, and the three days of training that followed were mostly a blur. Your body picked up on the techniques you would need to survive, and with the help of Finnick, you’d managed to commit them to memory. You remembered the way you’d been trained to sit and talk and the jokes you should slip into conversation with Caesar tomorrow night. 

All of their training was working, and Finnick had told you that you had a high chance of making it out of that area. A high chance. Nothing was guaranteed at this point in your life. Which is why you needed to do a few final things. 

The door to your bedroom slides open. You lift your head from the pillow and squint. There’s a little light coming from the hallway, and it backlit the figure. But even without it, you would know who was coming to see you. The only person who’d been coming to see you since the arrival at the Tribute Center. 

“Hey, Finn,” you mumble, resting your head back against the pillow that’s always cool. 

Finnick takes a few steps into your room, stopping to flick a switch that only turns on the lamps beside your bed, and the two ambient ones in the corners. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, as if he’s tired, but not to the point of already greeting sleep. It’s a little later than it should be, you were recommended to have gone to sleep two hours ago but you couldn’t. There was too much going on in your head, too many unsaid words and undone actions. You couldn’t sleep with your consciousness this awake. 

Finnick voices the matter. “You can’t sleep, can you?” 

You shake your head, deciding to sit up a little, your bare lower half still secure underneath the thick comforter. Your room was always cold, and the silk sheets mirrored the temperature. Physically, you were the most comfortable you’d ever been, wearing the softest cotton undergarments, and a silk button up nightshirt, your toes warm beneath fuzzy socks. But the weight on your mind was the complete opposite. 

With the way Finnick looks at your face, he can tell just how exhausted you are. 

“Want something to help with that?” He asks as he sits at the edge of the bed, close but entirely too far from you. “A drink? Pills? The Capitol has it all, you know.” The way he says it is the opposite of marveling, the words laced with annoyance and frustration. His tone prompts a small smile from you. 

“‘M okay. I trust my body to do what it’s supposed to.” Finnick’s head is turned down, but you see the way the corner of his lip curls up. 

He lifts his head to fully smile at you, one of sympathy and pity and sadness. His hand reaches out and his palm rests over the outline of your shin. Far too many layers are between the bare skin on both of you, but you don’t say so. You just give Finnick an equally sad smile, expressing your dismay for your situation, and you begin to pick at your nails in your lap. 

“What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Finnick shakes his head. “No such luck for me either.” He shrugs as if he’s used to it and you remember that he’s been in this position too. Just a few years ago, a young boy, your best friend, was sitting in this bed, with similar thoughts weighing on his mind. And now his best friend was in that position. 

You push the sheets back, exposing the beginnings of the skin on your thigh, and you pat the space beside you. “C’mon,” you encourage, not ceasing your patting until Finnick scoffs and slides his slippers off, crawling up to slip under the covers with you. 

The bed is larger than you’d ever seen, something your escort called a ‘bed fit for a king’, but Finnick chooses to sit right beside you, the heat of his body warming yours. 

“We could watch something. What plays on the television in the Capitol?” Finnick’s sitting so close to you that you can feel him shrug. Whenever you reach over to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open to grab the remote, you come back to sit even closer to him, where your arms are pressed flush against each other. 

“Mostly shows about the lives of celebrities here.” 

You gasp, turning to face him. “Is that rumor about you appearing on some reality show true?” Finnick’s ears redden and that’s enough confirmation that you need. Your head throws back with a hearty laugh, and you click on the TV with hopes of finding an episode. 

Finnick sits quietly beside you as you click through the channels, reading the titles and watching maybe a second or two of content before you decide to try the next thing. When you’ve gone through most channels, you land on the one that will play the Games. 

He says your name, as a warning perhaps, but you click it anyway, seeing that they’re talking about you. 

“Now the odds of this one making it out are pretty high. She’s pretty, smart, and trained by the Finnick Odair,” a clip of you and Finnick appears, one that must’ve been taken backstage during the Opening Ceremony. He’s standing close to you, crouched down just enough to meet your eye level. You’re obviously nervous, and he’s obviously attempting to soothe those nerves, cracking jokes with a hand held to your heart, both of yours over it.  “The Capitol’s Prince.” The announcer pronounces those words clearly, enunciated, making sure every late night viewer understands Finnick’s alternate title. 

Clips of Finnick throughout the years show and you grow silent, watching how he commands a room better than you ever could. 

“If she were to make it out, I’m sure she could become the Capitol’s Princess, right?” The announcer smiles just as the remote is snatched from your hands and the TV is clicked off, ridding the bedroom of the colorful hues and leaving you and Finnick with the yellow light from your lamps. 

“Why did you–?” Finnick’s interrupting. He’s thrown the remote to the side of him and he’s turned to face you. 

“I want you to make it out of the Games, I really do.” You nod, watching the way his chest rises and falls with breaths that fill the hesitant silence. “But, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.” 

“What do you mean? You don’t want me to be loved and adored by the Capitol?” You say it a tad bit sarcastically, but your tone dulls down when you notice how serious his face is. 

He shakes his head. “No, I really don't.” You scoff, beginning to get upset over the idea that a night that was turning peaceful, began to turn on its head. “Because everything comes with a price here,” he says your name, making sure you’re listening. “The ‘love’ the Capitol has for me is ingenuine, they love me like I’m an object. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” 

“Finnick, I don’t think I understand.” But you do, you really do. 

He tells you as much, that same sad smile from earlier on his lips. 

Before you can speak, he does. “Look, I came in here to ask you what you want.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

“Before the Tributes I mentor get sent off, I like to fulfill their wish. In case they don’t…”

“In case they don’t make it back.” He nods. “So a dying wish?” Another nod. 

“So, what d’you want?” 

You know what you want. You’ve wanted it since you were a teenager, watching Finnick, the most loved victor, leave for the Capitol and come back weeks later. Since you watched him train Annie Cresta and everyone, including yourself, believed there to have been something between them. Since he walked into your room just 20 minutes ago. 

“What I want, I don’t think I can ask you for.” You speak low, your voice a whisper. Your head rests on the headboard behind you, turned to face Finnicks. 

He shakes his head gently. “I have connections. I can guarantee almost anything.” 

“No, Finn.” You don’t think you can ask him for this. Especially with what he’s essentially just told you. It would be selfish, it would be insincere, it would ruin the friendship you have between you two. 

“I can’t.” 

His head’s already facing yours, and he brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No, Finn, I can’t.” Your eyes sting, as does your nose, and you know there’s no use in pretending the tears aren’t there. He’s seen them, he’s acknowledged them by swiping his thumb under your eye, catching the first drop. 

“I would do anything for you. Just say the word.” 

You search his eyes, his face, the tip of his ears, his Adam’s Apple. You’re looking for his tell. But it’s not there. It’s just Finnick. Your Finnick. And he wants the best for you. 

You’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been at this moment; sitting in a bed in the Tribute Center, just two days out from the Hunger Games, a period of uncertainty that is life or death; your best friend, and unrequited crush, as your mentor, having to hold your pieces together at least until the end of this. 

There’s no point in hiding anything. You know you need to lay it all out. So you do. 

“Even take my virginity?” 

The air is still. Stiff. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t breathe. His thumb halts. He doesn’t blink. 

You sit there, watching him, holding in the sob that threatens to wrack across your body. 

“Forget it. I’m sor–” 

“Yes.” 

“What?” 

“Yes.” 

There’s a moment where you don’t act. A moment where disbelief trickles down your body like the tears from your eyes do on your face. 

“Finn…” 

“I would do anything for you. I have wanted you since we were young, but I thought…” 

“Doesn’t matter what you thought then. Not anymore. We go from here now.” 

And there is the nagging possibility that all of this could be because of your potential fate. Maybe he’s humoring you, or letting you in on that final step of human intimacy before your life ends. You prefer not to think about it. Especially whenever Finnick’s moving closer to you and you can feel his breath on your lips. 

Your lips are almost touching, the tanned skin of his face is right in front of you, the same goes for the pink of his lips. He’s almost there, then he says, “Are you sure?” 

“‘M sure.” And Finnick is kissing you. Finnick Odair is finally kissing you. 

He kisses you softly, sweetly, with precision and a gentle nature. As if he’s afraid that he’ll do something wrong and hurt you. 

You kiss him back in a similar fashion, just with added timidness that Finnick doesn’t possess. 

Your hands raise slowly, in choppy motions that are both due to your uncertainty, and the distraction of finally having the man of your dreams kiss you like you’re made of porcelain. But you manage to get your hands to Finnicks torso, palms pressed flat against his thin shirt so that you can feel the abs along his torso. 

You’ve felt them before, in time of play fighting, or whenever he would have you replicate his breathing or form. But touching along his torso in this circumstance is different. Now, your touch ignites a fire within you. It makes Finnick grip the back of your neck and pull you closer with one hand, the other sliding the covers away and hooking his hand at the back of your thigh, pulling your left leg over your right. 

Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, slowly starting to slide it up until he gets the hint and pulls away just enough for you to slide the shirt between you two, up and over his head. Then he’s back on you. 

When you sigh blissfully into his mouth, he starts to kiss you like he’s desperate to have you close. Like he wants to engulf your entire being until you’re intertwined. 

The best you can do is physically move closer to him, letting the hand on the back of your thigh guide you to straddling his lap. 

It’s then that Finnick pulls away from you. Your hands trail up to cup his cheeks, moving back to play with the golden blonde locks that seemed to never be out of place. 

He stares up at you, sea-green eyes pulling you even further into a state of enchantment. Whenever he tilts his head, eyes stuck on you, and kisses into your palm, you melt. His hand lifts to gently circle around your wrist, nimble fingers rubbing little circles into the skin. 

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Finnick speaks. “I need you to remember that even if I’m doing the work, you set the pace. You tell me what you like and don’t like. You tell me when to go and when to stop. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

And then you’re back at it. His hands circle around to your lower back, pushing into the curvature to bring your chest closer to him. He uses the position to his advantage, dipping his head to kiss at the exposed bits of your skin; your neck, collarbone, the starts of your cleavage. He quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of skin, and you bite back a smile as you gently nudge his head back and begin to undo the buttons. 

He watches you in a trance-like state with a look that seems akin to awe. You can’t help but tease him just a bit, shifting in your position atop his crotch and slowing your work on the buttons. 

Finnick groans and his hands leave your lower back to push your own hands away, deciding to undo your buttons himself, grumbling something under his breath about you being a tease. 

When you giggle above him, Finnick has you pushed onto your back in what seems like the blink of an eye. Really, it did happen quick, but your eyes were already closed from giggling so hard, so reopening them to Finnick above you, your shirt opened and your barely confined tits in Finnick’s eyeline, is disorienting. 

“Jesus, look at you,” Finnick mumbles. And he is. His eyes are hungirly skirting over your figure, taking it all in. From your eyes, to the bra that you wear, all the way to the cotton panties that hug your hips. 

His gaze stops at your lower half for a while, watching your stomach rise and fall with your breaths and the way there’s definitely a little wet patch on your panties. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles under his breath. The question is rhetorical, and meant only for him. But, in a fit of nerves, you answer anyway, needing to do something other than lay there. 

“I don’t know, Finn, there’s a lot that you can do. You can go down on me, give me your fingers, your cock.” 

His eyes lift to yours, shock evident within them. “Did you just say the word ‘cock’?” He laughs between the words, that perfectly pearly white smile greeting you. 

“Yeah,” you say, laughing through the syllables too. 

Finnick shakes his head with that smile still present. 

He swears under his breath but then his fingers are playing with the hem of your panties and you’re back under, focused on what he could possibly plan to do next. He hums, eyes on you, eyebrows raised. 

It takes you a second to realize what his intentions were, but you do soon enough. “Keep going. Please.” 

The tips of his fingers reach below the band of your panties. He begins to pull them down, just until your hip bones and the start of your mound becomes visible. At first, you disgraced the Capitols groomers' work of ridding your entire body of hair, but you can’t help but feel a little grateful that they did. You knew that Finnick wouldn’t care either way. 

You lift your hips, letting Finnick pull your panties over the curve of your ass. When they sit at the halfway point of your thighs, he lowers his head and presses his lips to the area right above the waistband. And he continues to do so, sliding your underwear down and kissing through the journey. 

The last kiss he gives you is on the arch of your foot, right before he guides the garment over the remaining part of your body, throwing them off to the side of the bed. 

Finnick sits back on his heels then, just looking at you, looking at your legs which are just almost crossed at the knee, your ankles together and one knee raised slightly above the other. You’re shielding the most vulnerable part of you, hiding it almost. But when his green eyes meet your center, briefly meeting your eyes, you slowly part your legs, allowing him to see you in all of your glory. 

Finnick sucks in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising with it. He doesn’t let it out until your legs are completely opened and bent at the knee, inviting him in. You sit halfway up on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him. 

It’s not long until he makes a move, just a few tense moments and then Finnick’s kicked into action. 

His calloused hands on your knees, sliding around to the back of your thighs as he lays on his stomach, directly facing your cunt. 

When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. “I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Just for a bit. Is that alright?” 

His eyes are visible over your mound, but they’re not focused on you just this once. They’re focused on your cunt, scanning it, taking it all in almost as if he’s committing this moment to his very strong memory. 

You’re a little starstruck, reckoning with the notion that Finnick wants to give you head. Therefore, you sit there in stunned silence, attempting to find the words to deliver your over enthusiastic agreement. But Finnick takes your silence negatively. 

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, honey. Just wanna make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for.” And there are those eyes again. They’re pleading, but also making you feel comfortable, reminding you that you’re in charge. 

You smile gently, nodding. “Yes.” 

And the first lick has your head spinning. His tongue is warm, and wet, and he licks a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit. It’s slow, and methodical. He licks your juices up, but they’re coming back tenfold by the time he’s pressed a kiss to your clit. 

A surprised moan pushes up your throat. The feeling has your hips pushing into his face on their own accord, your elbows slipping out from under you and your head throwing back onto the mattress. 

Finnick disconnects from you for just a second to let out a pleased groan, but the absence is too much for you already. You’re wiggling your hips, searching for him. 

Finnick laughs and the sound has heat rising through you. “‘M still here. Not leaving this pussy anytime soon.” 

He lives up to his promise immediately. His mouth’s back on you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive parts. 

It’s now that you remember how experienced Finnick is. How knowledgeable he is about the general spots of someone’s body. And he’s able to apply that knowledge to your body, with the help of your zealous responses. 

You’re moaning, your back arching, your hands gripping the sheets. Your knees bend more, your legs spread more, it’s all more and more and more. You want more from Finnick. You need more. 

You’re communicating that fact when you finally have enough courage to fist a hand into Finnick’s hair, and it’s like he’s rewarding you when he slyly begins to probe a finger at your tight entrance. 

You’re clenched, far from relaxed, but with a deep breath, you’re loose enough for him to slide in to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way, his single digit comfortable within your walls. 

Finnick fucks you with his finger, aiding the penetration with his pretty pink lips around your pink nub. He sucks, the pressure making your head spin, your consciousness in the clouds to the point where you don’t notice another of Finnick’s deft fingers teasing your entrance. 

“Another?” he asks, voice barely able to be heard due to his proximity to your cunt. 

“Uh-huh,” is all the affirmation you can give. 

It’s a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but once his digits are evened out and curling in you, and his tongue is lapping up your juices like it’s water, you’re riding so high in a blissed out state that discomfort is the last thing on your mind. 

Your approaching orgasm becomes known to you quicker than you can anticipate. It’s like all of a sudden there’s tension in your lower abdomen, begging for your attention, begging to be released. 

“Finnick, Finn,” he hums, not stopping any of his ministrations. “‘M so close. Almost there.” 

You hadn’t thought it to be possible but Finnick gives you more. His fingers fuck you faster and harder, his cheeks hollow as he alternates between sucking along your nerves and stroking his tongue is the areas that you’re most sensitive. 

It feels so fucking good, a pleasure you’d never experienced in your life. You couldn’t imagine being in this position with anyone other than your best friend, someone you trusted with your entire being. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, because sooner than you would’ve liked, your back is arching and your legs are lifting off the bed and your nails are digging into Finnick’s scalp, all signs that your orgasm is right there and you cum with a loud cry that melts into breathy moans. 

Finnick pulls his fingers out of your cunt but his mouth stays on you, placing gentle kisses and kitten licks along the slicked area. When your legs have lowered and your breath has evened out, he pulls his head away from you, a wince leaving his lips. 

“Darling,” he starts, receiving an affirmative hum in response. “You’re pulling my hair out.” 

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Your hand lets go of his hair, your body burning with embarrassment. But Finnick’s bright laugh and content smile soothes you. 

“‘S okay,” he mumbles as he leans up and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. Your lips mold to his like they were created for each other, and the kiss is slow, methodical, loving. 

You whine when he pulls away, but his hands have already hooked under your thighs and he’s pulling you with him as he starts to sit back. 

You end up in the position you started in, sitting on Finnick’s lap, your hands on his shoulders. 

Under you, you can feel his bulge confined in his pants. You shift a little over it, your throat beating with your heart rate due to the anticipation. 

Finnick’s eyes close softly and his head throws back. Your hand rises to push back the bangs of his hair which lay on his forehead, in favor of resting your skin against his. 

“Sweetheart,” he groans. “We …. We can’t.” 

Your heart drops. 

“Huh?” 

“I wanna feel you, sweetheart, I swear.” His eyes open to stare at yours and you notice the sincerity in them. It doesn’t do much to lift your spirits, though. “But we can’t. Not yet.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for further explanation. It comes from him quickly. 

“I need you in your right mind in the Games. You need to be focused, and only thinking about survival. Nothing else.” 

“You’re so full of yourself.” 

He chuckles. “Maybe. But we have to play it safe.” A beat. “You trust me, right?” 

And you do. Wholeheartedly. 

[qualityrain]

Im feeling a very fates of the fallen nostalgia rn

[eggyrocks]

bloody nose: kuroo x calloused hands reader

calloused hands masterlist // main masterlist

warnings: violence, blood, swearing; grammatical errors, not proofread, i wrote this just for me so it's probably not great

an: here it is. my self indulgent bonus chapter that’s got my fingers itching. i wanted to write this so fucking bad i genuinely do not even care if it’s good tbh; im sure if you wanted to read this without reading all of calloused hands u could but it’s probably better in context

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧

their set's not going well.

it might have something to do with the venue; it's a small, cramped basement bar with only one way out and one way in-the old and creaking staircase that looks like it's one bad day away from collapsing. it might be the fact that the bouncer's stopped counting heads and the bar's way over capacity. could be the hot humid air that's suffocating them and only getting worse with each person that claws their way towards the band.

but it's probably the heckler.

yn's generally not really bothered by that sort of thing. it's not like this is the first one she's ever dealt with; normally she'll just play over them until they learn their lesson and keep their mouths shut during their sets.

but the bar's fucking tiny and so ungodly packed and hot it's making her just a bit more irritable than usual. every couple of minutes there's some sweaty dude from the pit getting knocked into her and knocking her hand off her guitar, throwing her off and making her fuck up. it's irritating. it's frustrating. she knows her bandmates are getting fucking sick of it too. tanaka's broken more drum sticks than usual.

so when the heckler starts up again, she doesn't really have any self-restraint.

"you guys fucking suck!" comes his voice, ripping through the crowd in between songs.

yn leans up close to the mic until her lips are ghosting over the cool metal. "uhh, suck my dick," she murmurs into the mic, hearing it echo throughout the small space.

she ignores the crowd's reactions and leans back on her heels to make eye contact with yachi. yachi, who, like yn, got so sick of the heat and had to abandon her outer layer of clothes in favor of her sports bra. just one look at her sweat-soaked friend and yn can tell she is just as miserable as she is.

"heckling us won't make us play better," nishinoya says into his own mic, "we're going to suck no matter what you say."

"why doesn't your guitar player suck my dick!"

the reaction is half boos and half laughter, and yn does her best not to react the way she wants to. she just fiddles with her guitar while nishinoya lets out a string of curses and threats into the mic. he kepts it short, though, they've got a show to get on with.

yn wishes she could spot kuroo. she knows he's out there somewhere in the crowd; she keeps hoping to catch a glimpse of his distinctive silhouette-just seeing him there would help her calm down. just a bit.

kuroo's good at making things better for her. he always does it, even when he's not trying.

but all she can see over the lights that shine in her eyes is a shapeless mass of huddled bodies, indistinguishable and formless. she can't pick out kuroo. she can't see his face and she can't calm down.

"this next song's called rot," nishinoya anounces, and ignores the glare yn shoots him. he's fucking around with their setlist again. "it's about dying and getting eating by worms."

tanaka counts them in, and yn tries to focus all of her energy on playing. she's hoping to take her frustrations out on her guitar; and either way, she always plays great when she's in a bad mood.

but they're not even half-way through the first verse when yn notices something whipping over the heads of the audience. in a fraction of a second, she realizes it's a beer can. sixteen ounces.

and then, the next second, it's hitting her in the temple.

her hand leaves her instrument and flies to cup the spot she got hit. the beer can hits the floor and it's spraying sudsy, warm alcohol all over her. she crouches down in pain, trying to blink away the hot, thick liquid that now drips down into her eye.

there's a hand on her shoulder, and the sweet words of concern in her ear confirm that it's yachi. yn tries to stand up straight, despite the dizzying pain radiating in her skull, and tries to get a look at what's happening in front of her.

strangers are trying to crowd her, to get close to offer help or see if she's okay or just get a better look at exactly what happened. nishinoya is pushing people away, telling them to back the fuck up, now. tanaka's grabbing yn by the shoulder and trying to keep her steady. yachi's pressing one of their discarded tshirts against yn's forehead, trying to slow the bleeding.

and there's a familiar outline of bedhead, stomping up the stairs of the bar, dragging a protesting body behind him.

haphazardly, yn rips wires out of her guitar and shoves herself forward, elbowing her away through the swarms of people, leaving behind her bandmates, bloodied tshirt, and still fizzing can of beer.

once she climbs up the stairs and out of that basement, the cool air is on her skin, on sweat, on the beer-soaked clothes she's left in, and she's suddenly freezing.

but she doesn't really focus on that. yn just stands there and stares as kuroo, her beautiful kuroo, holds the heckler up by his collar, sneering at him. "what the fuck is wrong with you?" he screams into the trembling face of the other man. "you could've killed her!"

"it wasn't supposed to hit her!" he insists, and suddenly does not have the smug edge to his voice he did when he was telling yn to suck his dick. "it was an accident, dude!"

yachi appears at yn's side then, mouth open like she's about to ask if yn's okay, but she stops at the scene before her, just taking yn's hand in hers.

kuroo's grip on his collar is tight, and if the bruising on his knuckles or the bleeding of the heckler's mouth are any indication, he may have already gotten a hit in. he doesn't look away from the man in his grip. "yn, are you bleeding?"

she squeezes yachi's hand. "yeah," is her casual answer. she winces, blood sill trickling down her face, and the pain in her head still throbs.

"kiyoko's looking for something to stop the bleeding," yachi tells him, a nervous tremor. "tanaka's getting the van so he can drive her to the hospital-she's gonna need stiches."

kuroo lets him go, then. dropping him so quickly that the heckler only just gets his bearings before kuroo is pulling his fist back and then slamming it into the nose of the heckler. there's a pleasant crunch. yn tries to appreciate the sight of it, but she's just getting so damn lightheaded.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧

by the time they get out of the hospital, the sun has started rising. kuroo's driving the band's van with one hand on the wheel and the other gripping onto his girlfriend's thigh.

her bandmates, who insisted on staying with them the whole night, are now sleeping in the back, and their not soft and not gentle snores are fill the van.

yn looks over at kuroo and grins. she reaches towards him and gently carsses the cut that stretches across his nose. "you got battle scars now. can't believe you headbutted that guy."

he scoffs. keeping his palm flat on the wheel, he stretches out his fingers and examines the the scabbing over his knuckles. "my hands were starting to hurt and i need them for volleyball. i was running out of options."

"it was really hot, by the way," she tells him, teeth poking through broad smile. kuroo flicks his eyes away from the road for just a second to see it. "you were all bloody and sweaty like, 'oh, i'm gonna fucking kill you that's my girlfriend,'" she says, in a poorly done imitation of kuroo.

he laughs. "im just glad you're okay. if you had gotten a concussion i would've had to track him and down and give him one of his own."

"you need more than a beer can to take me down," she boasts. and then, without much warning, leans over towards the driver's seat to place a kiss on kuroo's cheek. "thanks for beating the shit out of that guy for me."

"i'll always beat the shit out of someone for you, babe," he tells her, only half-joking. "you're my girl. of course i will."

she smiles, and places her hand on top of his, resting her head on top of his arm. "i'm totally gonna fuck the shit out of you after i sleep for like, twelve hours, by the way."

kuroo smirks, and from the back, through a haze of sleepiness and snores, nishinoya says, "you guys are fucking gross."

taglist: @wyrcan @rieieieieieiei @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @nnnyxie @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @macchiatomegumi @hikikaimar @noodleswastaken @garden-of-bri @rinaheartss @infinitelytimebound @scxrcherr @eyes-ofhell @sleepy-time @polish-cereal @literally-a-ferret @crownj1min @sereniteav @kozuskitten @02shuuu @rasisarchive @marzzn @barricadesenthusiast @yvjitadori @yeehawslap @phoenix-eclipses @lcvestays @thirtykiwis @kitty-m30w @causenessus @notsaelty (i wasn't sure if i should include the taglist since this is just a bonus chapter but u know what. fuck it. here u guys go).

[s-4pphics]

let the rain sing. 4 (a.a)

wc;cw: 7k, dadsbestfriend!abby, lawstudent!oc, large age gap(oc is 25, abby is mid 40s), abby is bi<3, slight angst yall know the deal, brief mentions of familial death, cigarettes, nasty sloppy sex MDNI, dubcon(they sipped a little), couch action :p, eating out no taco bell(pussy and ass), tribbing, meantop!abby, strength kink, lots of dirty talk, breeding kink😳😳, mult. orgasms, BREEDING STRAP(idk how they work im sowwie if it’s not accurate :/), slight d!p, body fluids(spit, fake and real cum LOL), UNPREPPED ANAL PLS DONT DO THIS, dumbification, degradation kink, pain kink it’s me duh, hair pulling, slapping, slight mirror sex??

The holiday season passed, and you were standing on Abby’s porch with your tail between your legs and exhaustion weighing you down. 

You’ve never been… nervous to see Abby. Whenever you arrived at her home, you were eager and desperate to be in her presence so she could take care of you, but now you were nauseas at the thought of using her that way. And it was all your fault. 

You haven’t spoken to her since the Christmas party. You didn’t know what to say. How do you approach somebody that you think hates you after an encounter like that? She went from rightfully kicking you out of her home to rubbing your pussy through your pants without care. In front of your entire family despite your mutual rules, and you didn’t even care enough to stop her. It almost felt like you switched places for the night: she was impulsive and irresponsible, and you allowed her to be, just like how she used to when she handled your demanding attitude. You wished she touched you more before she respectfully departed your parents’ home. 

You wanted to speak with Abby properly. You never thought you would be willing to sacrifice your kryptonite once you found it, but she didn’t deserve to be dragged along and solve your problems anymore. Your heart still hurts at the thought of making her cry and leaving her to it. You’re such an idiot. 

You called her before you showed up, but she didn’t answer. You don’t blame her for being distant, but she deserves an in-person explanation as to why you should never see her again. You’re a trainwreck and you need to deal with that alone, no matter how exhausting the journey would be. 

The sun was setting when you finally exited your car knocked on her door, looking down at your scuffed boots that dug into the melting ice on her porch. You wanted to check to see if her key was still in the same spot under her rug, but you refrained. Your heart filled when you noticed her unique little Christmas decorations still dangling from her door and windows. She loved her flowers, for sure.

When the door yanked open, your heart dropped, and your stomach did somersaults. 

Abby was dolled up in a red dress under a black trench coat with matching red nails and shoes, sparkling jewelry, and her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail that cascaded down the back of her neck. She looked fucking gorgeous, and your throat went dry. She leaned against the frame as she eyed you, shock evident on her face. 

Don’t fold, don’t fold, don’t fold!

You watched her surprise swiftly shift into confusion and… aggravation? Your heart sunk further into the floor, but you held her gaze. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Her voice made your heart squeeze painfully; You missed it terribly, regardless of how stiff she sounded. 

You took a shuddering breath, “… Hi, Abby.” 

She ignored your greeting, “What are you doing here?” She sounded like she was in a rush, and you wanted to cry. 

You swallowed harshly, “I-I know you’re probably busy, but I’m— “

“Look, I can’t deal with this right now. I have somewhere to be,” she quietly huffed with agitation like someone would hear, adjusting the shining watch on her wrist to check the time. You could feel her pulling away. 

It felt like every cell in your body was dying, your brain fighting on its last legs to conjure up a reply to get her to stay and speak with you. You would’ve dropped down to your knees if it wasn’t freezing. Is this how she felt whenever you would shut her down to fuck? Nausea came in waves. 

“I don’t,” you weren’t shaking from the cold. “I don’t wanna do anything. I just wanna… apologize.” 

She rolled her eyes at you, “Keep it. Are you done? I gotta leave soon.”

You were motionless, your hands squeezed into fists in your coat pockets as tears jerked in your eyes and lips quivered. Don’t fucking cry!

Your brain didn’t fight hard enough because she shook her head when you didn’t comment, reaching for the door to slam it in your face. It forced you into action, shoving your arm between the open space to stop the wood from shutting completely. You couldn’t control the panic you felt at the thought of her hating you. You don’t remember the last time you cried like this. 

“A-Abby, please, I’m so sorry, I can’t,” your heaving picked up as you sobbed to her. “I can’t stop thinking a—bout you and I feel awful and I know you hate me, and you s-should but’m so sorr—y. Please, I can’t— “

Abby seemed unsure through your watery gaze, the tensity in her face dropping slowly as she gauged you. You felt her wrap a light hand around your bicep as you broke down, ushering you inside with soft shushes. 

You listened and followed her guide to the couch, taking a seat as you cried out your apologies to her. Your wails overpowered the volume of her coos; She was too fucking nice. 

She stood over your sitting form, her soft, rose-scented hands holding your chin as she massaged the back of your pounding head. “Shhh, stop crying, stop.”

Your eyes met hers, and your heart burned, “M’sorry— “

She sighed, “We’re gonna… we’re gonna talk, okay?” 

You nodded, sniffing harshly. You didn’t deserve her hospitality, and you felt guilty accepting her courtesy. Had you really been so heartless to such a gentle soul?

She hummed, “Want some water?” 

You didn’t answer. 

She took your silence as approval and made her way to the kitchen. 

You calmed down. Slightly. Abby was able to remove your coat and boots without fuss; You were too busy blowing your nose with the soft tissues she handed to you. 

Abby sat next to you on the couch, earrings, coat, and heels removed and slung on the floor near the coffee table. She allowed you to take some sips of your water before she spoke, voice as soft as ever. 

“Okay to talk?” 

You nodded, setting your glass down on the decorative table and using your sleeves to wipe your still wet face. 

You took a deep breath. A few deep breaths, and she let you. 

But when you finally opened your mouth to speak, her phone rang. 

Both your eyes darted towards the coffee table; a contact named DON’T ANSWER read across the screen. Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes gliding between her and her device. You’ve never seen Abby have a negative reaction towards anyone except you; Who did she not want to answer? 

She sighed heavily, reaching towards her phone to mute the ringing. A few moments of silence passed, and the call ended, but the caller popped up again. 

She tsked, reaching for her device with agitation. She answered it, annoyance evident in her tone. 

“I'm not coming. Stop calling me.” 

Your ears perked with intrigue. Was she meant to meet with someone tonight? She sounded so upset. 

Some distant ramblings came through her earpiece before she shot back at the person she was speaking to, “I don’t care. It’s not up to you!” 

The person got louder with her, the voice masculine. You saw Abby roll her eyes as she listened to the shouts. Why was she getting screamed at?

She spat nastily at the man before hanging up. “Fuck you. Don’t call me anymore tonight.”

She turned her phone off and tossed it onto the longue chair near the TV before turning back to you, the flame in her eyes slowly extinguishing. 

“Sorry,” she breathed awkwardly, massaging her temples. 

You shook your head, “Don’t apologize, I’m in your home. You can do what you want.” 

She hummed at you, her expression suddenly distant. She wasn’t looking at you, but at the hand that rested on your knee. Why was that making your body hot?

“I really came at a bad time, huh?” You huffed.

“Mhm,” she answered before backtracking. “I hate talking to him.” 

You spoke before you could think, “Who was it?”

“My ex.”

Your heart frosted over. 

“H-Husband?”

She nodded slowly, like it brought her shame to admit. You don’t know why that made your stomach churn with something red. Something fiery that you never felt. How long were they still in contact? You knew they weren’t on good terms due to Abby’s past dismissal of your questions about their past, but now you were really confused about where they stood. 

“D’you still talk to him?” 

“You interrogating me?” You stiffened at her tone, darkly sarcastic. Fuck, stop fucking up! 

You shook your head incessantly, “Not at all! Just… yeah, I don’t know why I asked that.” 

“What an honest lawyer,” you saw her lips curl upward into a smirk, and you exhaled a sheepish laugh, your hands squeezing into fists on your lap. She’s fucking gorgeous. 

“Not a lawyer yet.” 

She bit playfully, “Gonna be soon.” 

You made a noise in agreement before silence passed between you.

Abby’s voice made you look up. “We don’t see each other often, my ex and I. Not anymore at least.”

“… Oh. What were you guys going to do tonight?”

Abby shrugged, “Get drunk. Fuck probably.” 

You probably looked calm on the outside, but you felt every organ in your body burn like fire at her admission. You were stiff, your nails digging into your palms as grounding. Why are you getting so fucking pissed over them communicating? The fuck?

You couldn’t help yourself, “How come?” 

“It’s winter. We’re lonely and miss our daughter.” 

You felt like you were dunked into a bottomless tub of ice water. Your brain went into overdrive and your throat closed like you were going to cry again. 

She shook her head like nothing mattered, “Not the best coping mechanism, but.” 

“A-Abby— “

She cut you off, tone hushed, “We shouldn’t meet anymore, but he just… gets it. Gets me and what I’m still going through. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully get rid of him no matter how much I hate his guts.” 

You sat there and listened. This is the most personal conversation you’ve had with Abby since the first time you met. You finally met her eyes, waves of emotion flowing through them like ocean waves; You were here, and you wanted to listen to her. I’m sorry for shutting you down in the past. Please talk to me. 

You placed an encouraging hand on her bare shoulder, and she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as you squeezed. She was so tired; You recognized exhausted stiffness from anywhere. 

“He’s the only… person I have, honestly. It’s really weird,” she huffed a laugh, rubbing her nose. “We had her alone, we raised her alone, I buried her without him, and now we just… drag each other along in our grief. She died such a long time ago and we’ve made no progress, but I can’t… I can’t leave him.” 

You could hear the pain in her voice as she spoke, and it tore you to pieces. You can’t imagine what the two of them went through after such a grave loss; You knew it was your parents’ biggest fear. You had no idea how to talk her through this wave she was experiencing, but both your hands flew down to grab hers in her lap. You rubbed and squeezed them tight, hoping she would accept your presence again. You have me! I’m here, too. I'm sorry I wasn't before, but I am now. 

She looked down at your locked fingers, shocked at the gesture. She released a shuddered breath and squeezed back, grabbing your hand like you would slip away. 

She continued, her eyes glossy, “We always meet up around this time of year. For anything. For sex, to cry together. We could spend hours yelling and screaming at each other and then walk out of each other’s lives like nothing happened, just to do it all over again. I’m so… fucking tired.”

You shook your head in understanding. She needed comfort, some solace, a distraction just as much as you did, even if it’s only for a second. You wish you knew a better way to appease her emotional needs, but you didn’t. You didn’t know what to say, so you did what you should’ve done a long time ago. 

She confided in you, and you listened to all of it. 

Abby pulled out an expensive bottle of wine some time ago. You couldn’t stop smiling. 

Abby’s laugh was music to your ears, “I can’t believe I fucking did that!”

You shook your head as you beamed at her, “You don’t know how shook I was! I thought I was hallucinating! I don’t know what my cousin put in that fucking blunt, but I was on my ass the rest of the night.” 

You and Abby were facing each other, knees touching on the couch, in hysterics about the… events at the Christmas party. She tossed her expensive watch somewhere earlier, her posture content as she leaned back against the arm of her couch. You thought your first conversation after your argument would be much more unnerving, but you were both at ease and light. And a little tipsy. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been at her house, but you didn’t want to leave. You’re so glad you came to see her. 

Her hands flew to cover her face, her face burning red, “I’m sorry. Aghh, I fuckin’ cringe. Jesus.”

You shrugged, “Great memories.” 

She hummed in agreement, her head tilting as her eyes wandered all over your face. Your face warmed, “You look pretty with your hair up.” 

She raised a brow at you, “Oh?”

“Um… yes,” you replied sheepishly. 

“I think that’s the first compliment you’ve given me,” she joked, but that made your heart hurt. 

“You’re really pretty, Abby,” you replied instantly, tone quiet as your heartbeat picked up. Her expression softened when she called out your name. 

You shook your head, eyes dropping to your hands in your lap, “I'm really sorry for yelling at you.” 

Her hand came up to lift your chin, “Hey. I’m not upset anymore. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 

You nodded, eyes flickering between her mouth and eyes. She whispered your name again, thumb caressing your face. 

“Yes?” 

She whispered, inching forward slightly, “… How much trouble would I get in for kissing you right now?” 

Your tummy instantly swirled, and you grinned, “I dunno. A pretty good amount, I think.” 

She moved closer, tongue rolling over her lips as she eyed your mouth. 

Your breath shuddered, hand coming up to grab her wrist. You whispered as your face burned, “Kiss me?”

She snorted. Her nose brushed against yours, a smirk plastered on her face as she sniffed, “Yeah?”

Your core squeezed in approval. Abby released the hold she had on your face, strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You followed, straddling her lap, arms looping around her neck. You could see the skirt of her dress riding up from beneath you when she stretched her legs out. She smelled like roses and Barolo. 

“Hi,” she whispered with a grin. 

You smiled back at her, “Hi.”

Her lips brushed against yours, “Kiss me.” 

You cheesed, mischievously pecking her cheek, and she stared at you blankly. You giggled and pinched her squishy cheeks. 

“Kiss me for real,” she scolded lightly. 

You snorted, poking the space where her dimples are, “Mmm, nah. changed my mind, actually.” 

“Oh yeah? Don’t wanna kiss me?” Her voice lowered. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you shook your head at her anyway. Your defenses weakened when her grip tightened on your hips and head dropped, planting soft kisses down the expanse of your neck. You could feel her nails tickling the sensitive skin on your back as she softly caressed you. Your eyes went glossy. 

She mumbled against your neck, “Missed you.”

Your heart fluttered. You breathed, “Really?” 

“Mhm, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Doesn’t matter how much you get on my fucking nerves,” her hands slowly crawled up your waist. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

How does she speak her mind so easily?! “Miss—missed you too.”

“Missed me touching you like this?” 

You nodded quickly, and her tongue swiped up the side of your neck. You breathed heavily in her ear, eager to touch her. You pulled back so you could see her face, friskiness dissipating when you connected your lips. She purred in your mouth, lips molding against yours as you grinded on top of her, her red lipstick transferring onto your mouth. 

You grabbed her soft cheeks in your hands, gasping when her hands slid down to grab your ass through your jeans. Her tongue licked into your mouth, and your toes curled in your socks. You missed kissing her so badly. 

She was kissing you stupid, tugging the hair at the back of your head as she sucked your bottom lip. You shakily brought your hands up to her ponytail to undo the elastic, and her locks fell down her back like liquid. Your arms wrapped around her neck to kiss her deeper, pulling tightly at her soft strands. 

She moaned into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “Need some head?”

You nails dug into her shoulders, “Y-You don’t have t— “

She rolled her eyes, “It’s not for you, it’s for me. I was just tryna be polite.” 

Well.

“But I wan—“ 

Her hand came up to grab your chin. Fuck, you love when she does that. “Don’t care what you want actually. Lay down.”

You scurried off her like she was on fire, lying flat on the couch and ripping your sweater over your head, tossing it into the pile on the floor. Abby stood as you unbuttoned her jeans. You secretly watched as she unzipped her dress and allowed it to fall down her body. She was completely bare underneath. Your eyes followed the thin trail of hair that led down to her wet cunt, and it made you hot… in more ways than one; She was on a mission tonight, for sure. 

You shoved your jealousy down; She didn’t owe you anything, especially loyalty. You stared down at your busy hands.

You kicked your jeans off, a sock clumsily catching in your pant leg before they hit the floor. You were not prepared for spontaneous sex at all; One lonesome weed sock, panties with chocolate bars on them, and a gray lounge bra. 

You awkwardly scratched your ear and waited for Abby to move, but she didn’t. You looked up at her and noticed her just… staring at your torso. Her expression was unreadable as she took your body in, but you were about to die from her searing ogle. Your face was torched, even more so when she brought a gentle hand up, hooked her middle and index finger into the band of your bra. 

Her eyes bore into yours, silently asking for permission, and you nodded. She bit her lip, slowly raising the elastic band up your chest until your breasts dropped out. She played with the two of them, dark red nails digging into the soft skin, pinching at your nipples. You couldn’t stop squirming, watching her hand move on your body. You lifted your bra over your head and laid the bundled fabric over the back of the couch. 

“Turn over, baby. Wanna see something,” she barely whispered, patting your thigh encouragingly. 

You listened, flipping onto your hands and knees as she climbed on the couch behind you. You sighed happily when she massaged your ass in both hands, rubbing and pulling at your covered cheeks. You peered over your shoulder to watch her pull your sticky panties to the side. She was eyeing your pussy like she wanted to swallow you whole before her eyes flickered an inch up. She was staring at… 

Oh. Oh. 

You jokingly snarked at her, “Find whatchu lookin’ for?” 

Her eyes pierced through yours before she slapped the fuck out of your ass. Your body jerked forward at the force, eyes squeezing shut and groaning at the seering sting. Your head dropped on the arm of the couch.

She sneered at you, “I still feel some typa way. Be nice.” 

You gasped out, “M’so— “

“You’re sorry,” She squealed out mockingly. “I know. Be still.” 

She yanked your panties down your thighs, “Put your head down.” 

You dropped your head onto your crossed arms in front of you. Her hand rubbed down your spine to deepen your arch, pulling your hips farther up. 

“Hold it open for me, baby.” 

You whimpered and reached down between your legs, spreading the drippy folds of your cunt to expose your clit. You heard her curse behind you before you felt slow massages on your clit. They were so delicate, almost ticklish, and it made you shiver. 

Your walls squeezed down and you heard her moan behind you. She rubbed a bit faster, the soft, squishy noises from your cunt filling the room. You tried to push back on her fingers, but she harshly dug her nails into your hip to hold you still, pulling her fingers away from you. 

“Abby, please— “

She ignored you, prying your lips apart with her thumbs. Her breath hit your cunt as she slurred, “You trust me?” 

You nodded incessantly, “Yeah, baby, trust you, fuck, I trust you— “

Her lips sucked around your clit, and you bucked back on her face with force. She wasted no time, shoving two of her fingers inside you and curling them. She poked and prodded at your walls as she flicked your throbbing bud and holy fuck, you missed her so fucking bad—

You couldn’t help the noises that left your mouth when she hit your spot dead on, your walls milking her fingers with eagerness. You cried out her name as your orgasm pulled from deep within your gut, your fingers curling into fists into her couch cushions. The sounds your cunt made were becoming louder as your moans crescendo, your hips moving on their own accord to get her deeper inside you. 

Her tongue slowed on your clit, slowly licking up towards your entrance and… passed your entrance. She moved up, up, and her wet muscle swiped over your ass—

A sharp gasp shot through you, your head whipping around to face her. On any other occasion, she would’ve halted everything and checked in on you, but her fingers didn’t stop. Her thrusts were harsh and unrelenting, her eyes cutting through you, “Fuckin’ trust me, right?”

You sobbed when she slapped your still burning cheek, nodding your consent with tears streaming down your face. She didn’t hesitate to lick over your hole, her tongue sliding back and forth over the puckered entrance. 

“Abby, fuckfuckfuck, oh fuck— “

She hummed against your hole and your head dropped on the cushions completely, using your bent elbows as leverage to fuck back onto her face. 

She mumbled nastily against you, “Just needa be slutted out, baby? Yeah?” 

You could only whine and sob in reply before the strong squeezes of your orgasm built and built. You were right fucking there you just needed her to—

Her tongue shoved inside you, and your body seized and tensed under the pressure of your orgasm. It wracked through your body in waves as you wailed into the pillows beneath you, both sets of walls contracting through your pleasure. Your cunt milked her fingers with urgency, your juices dripping out of your entrance and down Abby’s wrist. She tongued you through the aftershocks. 

She slowly brought you back down as your pulses slowed, planting a kiss on the back of your thigh before pulling out. Exhaustion took over your body as she helped you get onto your back, your head propped up on the pillows behind you. You kicked your dangling panties off and allowed her to lift your leg over her shoulder. She climbed on top of you, straddling your resting thigh. You looked up at her and… the large vein in her biceps made you shiver. 

“A-Abby?” 

She grabbed your tit, “Hm.”

You whimpered, “Are you a gym rat?”

She snorted, a grin spreading across her pretty face as she massaged the soft skin. “Errr… yes? When I wanna be. Why do you ask?”

Throw me across the room! You eyed her bulging vein, “Nothin’.” 

She smirked down at you, “Mhm.” 

… Did she just flex her bicep what the fuck—

You didn’t even have a chance to think before her pussy rubbed up against yours, and nearly cried when you saw your sopping cunts connect, sighs of satisfaction leaving your mouths when your clits bumped up against each other, bonded by strings of slick. You grabbed her thigh for support, digging your nails into her soft skin as her grinds increased in pace. 

Your throbbing bud jerked with each pass of her hips. You did everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch her: her head was tossed back with her lip between her teeth, her defined stomach tensing and she fucked you. She looked so desperate to cum, to feel so good that she forgets everything. She kept taking and taking like you never allowed her to, and you never wanted it to end. 

“Your pussy feels s’good, shit,” she grinded down on you harder as she gazed at the ceiling. “Gonna make me cum— “

“Cum on me, Abby? Please cum on my pussy?” You whimpered up at her as your eyes grew heavy, and she slumped over the pillows, strong arms holding her up as she used you to fuck herself. She was getting louder, and you were squeezing as your second orgasm approached. Her pussy was hitting you right where you needed, right on your clit and you were about to—

You saw a screen flash out the corner of your eye as your device blared, and the drop of your heart matched the tight grip of your pussy. 

Abby was close, and your dad was calling.

Abby was too deep in her pleasure to notice as she begged you to cum with her, grabbing at your tits and yanking your nipples. Your pleasure kept rising and your phone wouldn’t stop fucking ringing—

“Fuck, baby, oh god, m’cumming!—“

Abby’s scream sent you off, your eyes rolling back, and your core squeezing with all you had to give. She was fucking you so hard through your euphoria, crying your name as you did the same. She was hitting your clit so good, you couldn’t breathe. 

Your ears were ringing so loud that you couldn’t hear the second call coming in, and you didn’t care. Your hips bucked as much as they could to meet hers, helping her ride out her intense orgasm. The harder you pushed up, the more you could feel her pussy pulsating. It sent another wave of pleasure through you. 

The feeling eventually subsided, the contractions in your cunt easing into light jerks. Abby caught her breath before moving off and plopping on top of you as she breathed heavily in your ear. You brought a hand up to rub her scalp, twirling her hair around your index finger as her scent infiltrated your senses. Your phone was finally quiet. 

“Can I fuck your ass?” 

Her heavy exhale made your spine bend. You could feel her smile against your neck. 

You were about to pass out, and it wasn’t from your insomnia. 

Abby carried you upstairs to her bed, and eventually got your legs over her shoulders while she lubricated her deep blue strap… with a slit at the incredibly fat tip? She never used this one with you before. It was veiny, curved, and thick; How the hell was that going to fit in your ass!

You knew one of her darkest secrets was cumming inside of somebody, but you didn’t know she meant it. You couldn’t stop thinking about all the times she moaned about cumming inside you. Knocking you up. She was really going to—

“Stop staring at my dick, it’s rude,” she said blankly. 

Your eyes flickered up to meet hers, “Sorry.” 

She snickered, “I’m kidding, relax.” 

How could you relax when she was jerking off in front of you! Her hands are so pretty on her dick, and you could cry right now because of it!

You squealed when she slapped it on your clit, the silicone getting drenched in her flavored lube and your slick. Your pussy squeezed in anticipation; She was about to destroy your cunt and you couldn’t think, holy shit, you missed her so badly—

She breathed eagerly, “You know what to do, baby.” 

You nodded, reaching down to hold your pussy open for her. She lined her tip up at your entrance, “Need this dick?”

“Fuck yes— “

She cooed, “Yeah? Want me?”

You looked up at her, your head bobbing up and down like you were entranced. You wanted her so much. Too much. The look of pride in her eyes was going to stay in your memory forever. 

“Fucking say it,” she spat.

“Want you inside me, baby, please fuck me!”

She popped the tip in, and you moaned as pleasurable pain rushed through you. She took her time easing into you, allowing you to feel every ridge of her dick against your walls. The veins in the silicone were catching on your walls and it made you squeeze down tight. 

She paused and kissed your ankle, “Ease up, baby. C’mon.” 

“Can’help it, fuck, splittin’ me open,” your tongue felt so large in your mouth. 

“Fuck, missed wrecking this pussy,” she moaned out, staring down at the way your walls choked her length. 

She pushed an inch deeper, and you nearly shouted. 

She smirked, “Right there?”

You were drooling onto your chest as you craned up to watch how you connected. She was pressed right up against the spot that made you see stars, and you felt the beginnings of your orgasm stirring in your gut. 

She pushed inside until she was fully submerged in your juices, your slick coating the entire toy when she pulled out, only to fuck back into you again. She stretched you out until you were grabbing at her hip, trying to pull her deeper into you. She wrapped her arms around both of your calves and drilled in your guts, only pulling out a few inches before shoving back in. 

The power of her thrusts was causing the flowery headboard to bang up against the wall, the soggy noises of your cunt and squeals of pleasure filling the room. She was battering your pussy completely, and you couldn’t do anything to stop her. 

“Pussy’s pushing me out,” she garbled with a limp tongue. “Feel good, baby? Can’t take it?” 

You couldn’t find the strength to respond, nails digging into her soft blankets as she transported you to another dimension, sparkles and glitter exploding behind your eyelids as your unannounced orgasm shook your spirit, “Can feel you cummin’, shit.” 

Her voice was muffled from the ringing in your ears. You could barely register her pulling out and grabbing her girth, quickly rubbing her wet tip on your clit to rub you through your orgasm. You felt speckles of droplets land on your ass and the covers beneath you, eyes crossed in your skull and the taste of copper in your mouth from biting your lip too hard. 

She didn’t let you recover before she released your legs, pinning them down to your chest by the back of your knees, nearly folding you in half and shoving back into your wetness with a disgusting noise.

She bounced you on her cock like a weightless ragdoll, your body shifting up her bed with force. She hit so deep whenever she fucked like this. Her tip was nudging your cervix whenever she dug in deep, the pain plunging into you like a knife as tears filled your eyes and pleasure sizzled all the way down to your toes.

“Gonna cum in this fuckin’ pussy, oh my god— “

You couldn’t help the babbles that came from you, drooly yesyesyesyess’ coming from you, “Yeah, baby? Need me to fill your pussy up?”

You nearly passed out at the thought of her stuffing you, your orgasm built until it crashed into you, snatching the wind in your body as you let out a quiet scream. Your lashes were fluttering, and spit was sliding down your cheek, completely dumb under her. 

And then you felt a thin stream of liquid shoot inside your pulsing cunt. You swore you flatlined. 

Your orgasm only intensified at the feeling of her creaming inside you, her gross whispers making the hairs on your arms stand, “Gonna knock this slutty cunt up and send you home filthy. Want you drippin’ with it.” 

You nodded brainlessly; You’d do whatever she wanted as long as she kept fucking and filling you. Another harsh stream exploded inside you, and your juices sprayed on her lap. You went limp under her, letting her move and toss you around how she pleased. You were getting so fucking tired, but you didn’t want her to stop. 

She gave one last deep grind, poking your cervix one last time before pulling out, her gaze dropping to watch her seed spill out of your battered cunt. She pushed your legs down even further, knees nearly hitting your head as she lined her dick up at your ass, “Would marry this pussy, swear to god. It takes dick so good.” 

You only released a choked noise in approval; She could have you however she wanted! 

Her pretty brow arched cockily, “You like that? Like when I make this pussy mine?”

You shook your head so fast. It’s yours, baby! It’s all yours!

She barely pushed forward, her tip nudging your other entrance, making you squeal, “Is this mine too?” 

“Fuck yes, s’yours, baby!”

She popped in, and you sobbed. You need this, you need this, you need her—

Tears ran down to your neck as you cried, her gentle shushes caressing your ear drums like symphonies, “Such a good girl, doing so good for me, just a little more, okay?” 

You couldn’t stop moaning at the foreign sensation, “G-Gimme all of it, oh my fuckin’ god—“

“… You sure?”

She paused, only a couple inches inside as she gauged you. The gentle aura you're so used to finally returned as she massaged your thighs comfortingly, and your heart swelled. 

You spoke in one breath, “Fuck my ass, Abby, please. S’gonna make me cum again— “

“Tell me if I’m— “

“Please, baby, s’gonna hurt s-so good, gimme— “

“Okay, baby shhh, I gotchu,” she hushed you, quickly grabbing the discarded bottle of lube at your side and squeezing a messy quantity over your pulsating entrance. She tossed it somewhere and pushed in deeper, the burn sending hot shockwaves to your brain. How were you about to cum there’s no way you’re going to cum—

“A-Abby, fuck me, fuckme— “

She was whimpering with you, still pressing in, “Don’t wanna hurt you baby, shit— “

“Fuck me harder, m’so close!”

Your eyes squeezed shut when she pushed the last few inches in, sitting deep in your ass, and you came so hard. You could hear her moaning with you as she grinded you out. The cum that sat deep in your cunt was pulsing out of you with each clench, dripping down to your filled ass and coating her. You forced your eyes open so you could watch her, eyes burning with lust and her toned body drenched in sweat. 

She brought a hand down to your pussy and shoved two fingers in, curling and hitting your spot at a vigorous pace. The squelches were so loud over your pleased shouts, and you squirted all over her hand, some droplets splattering on your chest and chin. 

She yanked her fingers out to pat and spank your throbbing clit before pushing your legs back up, pulling out slowly before shoving her entire length back into you. 

Abby has never been this aggressive during sex, but she was slapping you, fucking you deep and hard, spitting on your face from where she towered over you, and you took all of it like she was paying you. Your ass was rippling on her cock, trying to make space for her cock so it could suck her in deeper. You couldn’t stop squirting, both your cum dripping out of both your holes. 

Gonna cum so hard in this ass, oh my fuckin’ god, you feel so good.

It’s mine? Say it’s mine.

Look at that dirty fucking pussy. Nasty cumslut. You love being my fucking worthless whore, don’t you? 

Just needa turn that pretty brain off? Yeah? Need me to take care of you? Fuck you stupid? 

You were thrown into one long, constant orgasm and she talked you through it. You clawed at her ass and sheets and your own tits to keep yourself grounded but it wasn’t working. You were getting her so wet, a large puddle forming underneath you as your body jerked away from her. But she held you down, made you take what she gave, made you see god. You felt so fucking good that it almost pained you. 

You could hear her moans increase in volume, not bothering to pull out as she grinded deep inside you. You knew she was close, riding her harness into completion. You used the only strength you had to turn your head to the side, making eye contact with yourself in her large dresser mirror. You looked fucked up, but you watched yourself cum before staring at Abby’s reflection. 

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she bucked into you quickly, her tits and fat on her ass shaking in the mirror. You could hear her whispering makemecummakemecum over and over again, and you shuddered when another spurt of liquid left you. 

Cum in my ass, cum in me filled your brain like a mantra.

You fought to keep your eyes open, watching the muscles in her body tighten up before she yelled out, screaming how hard she was cumming and how good your ass sucked her cum in. A line of spit left her mouth and landed on your thigh as she shuddered through her pleasure, and you felt her jizz fill your ass, the second load much larger than the first. It felt so fucking good. 

Another orgasm rushed through as you both screamed in pleasure. You tried to meet her grinds, pushing down to get her squirting dick even deeper inside. 

Abby dropped your legs and they instantly wrapped around her waist as she fell forward, resting her full weight on you as she rode out her orgasm. Her moans of your name didn’t stop, and it felt like you both were cumming for hours. She filled and filled you like you were milking her dry, draining her completely and it made you cum again. Your arms wrapped around her neck to pull her close, nails digging into the flexing muscles in her back and leaving red trails.

She screamed out a warning of another orgasm right before her body trembled on top of you. Her dick wasn't bursting in you anymore; Why did that make you sad?

Her grinds eventually slowed into twitches as you both came down. She was planting gentle kisses and sucks on your neck, her hands coming down to rub the soreness from your thighs as you massaged her scalp. 

You made sure to keep your eyes open so you wouldn’t drift off into dreamland. 

After Abby pulled out and cleaned you up, she rummaged through her underwear drawer and pulled out a Marlboro box and lighter. 

… Why were you horny again? 

Her wet, semi-leaking dick was still strapped around her waist, her now scarred backside facing you as she stuck the orange end between her lips and ignited it. You watched her through the mirror, her body instantly relaxing as she puffed silently. You looked like a cat in heat. 

She looked up and stared back at you in the reflection, taking the smoke between her index and middle finger, exhaling around her words. 

“What’re you looking at?”

You shrugged and smiled like a ditz. She shook her head at you before sticking the butt in her mouth, undoing the adjusts and stepping out of her dick. She picked it up, eyes flickering awkwardly before throwing it in her hamper. You giggled quietly.

She ashed her cig over her small trash can, before looking at you, “Come shower?”

Your heart pounded in your chest like she didn’t just obliterate your pussy and ass. You consented in silence. 

You could hear her laughing as you hobbled to the bathroom, “I coulda carried you, y’know.” 

You flipped her off. 

After washing, Abby just… held you. 

The water was still beating down on the two of you, her head resting on your shoulder as she rubbed your back. And you did the same. 

You felt so relaxed, and everything was quiet in your head, the lavender scent of her body wash surrounding the two of you. You could’ve fallen asleep right here. 

Her hushed tone surprised you. 

“Are you leaving tonight?” 

Your heart shredded to pieces at her nervous tone. She sighed in relief at your whisper. 

“No, Abby. I’m not.” 

You didn’t know what would happen when you returned home, but for now, you relished in her warm embrace as you nodded off onto her shoulder. 

You didn’t sleep alone. 

OOHHHHH im ovulating LOL 

anal whores this one’s for y’all😞😞

taggie waggies :3 @ohlawdthebirds @fibrogirlie @unangelic-thoughts @chrry1ovr @uraesthete @gravygranules @digit4lslut @machetegirl109 @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @macaroni676 @sillygooselit @nil-eena @elliesgirlll @hi2647 @fr0thycoffee @mai5mai @sweet-lover-girl

prologue. part one. part two. part three. interlude.

[something-something-here]

ZARTEMIS/NIGHTEMIS HEADCANNONS PLEASE DUDE- DEADASS LOVE UR BLOG IM GONNA EAT YOUR FLOORBOARDS

Omg hi I love your blog too, iminyourwalls—

I've been dying to share my thoughts with someone:

• I think I already put this in a hashtag somewhere, but when Artemis said "yes my brave one, they're beautiful tonight" she was looking at Zoë not the actual stars

• Also the 'timestamps' series + 'uniform upgrade' and 'cypress' fanfics are exactly how I envisioned not only Artemis/Zoë but also their relationship in general with the hunters and their respective roles

• They definitely love to play with the Goddess-Liutenant dynamic

• I also feel like they wouldn't put a label in their relationship, like they know they love eachother and that's enough (ofc they talked boundaries like exclusively and all), their love is free, wild and unrestrained

• And they wouldn't really try to keep it a secret but wouldn't actively tell everyone about it, but they don't need to, everyone knows

• I'm torn between the idea that a) Artemis (and the hunters) saved Zoë while she was running from the monsters Atlas had sent after her and b) young Artemis exploring the mortal world and meeting Zoë by chance and creating the hunters together

• I do firmly believe that Zoë was Artemis' first lieutenant, whether because she was her first huntress or she created that position a while after and Zoë was chosen for it

• If I recall correctly one of the things Thalia didn't like about Zoë is the way she -literally- worshipped Artemis and I think that was a bit of jealousy actually—

• Also there had definitely been hunters crushing on Zoë and her having no idea. Artemis thinks is funny but also has suddenly more -openly- affection strikes, just to remind everyone

• As far as I know Artemis was born after the titan war and Zoë being atlas' daughter was born before, making her older than Artemis and she likes reminding everyone about it every once in a while

• I feel like Zoë would have had a competitive relationship with Callisto

• Zoë is always worrying about the hunters and while Artemis loves her for that, she takes her on hunting trips together (just the two of them) and plays around with her, she loves seeing her free like this

• I actually don't think there was a confession per se but they were sharing an intimate moment together (non sexual) and they just kissed, they don't know who started it, but they didn't care

• No matter how much centuries pass, Artemis knows that there will never be anyone like Zoë, and no matter what happens, even when she's fading and the millennia are blurred together she can never forget her

• When the whole Roman thing happened and she was confused, desoriented and in unbelievable pain, her Roman and greek forms trying to take control she called for Zoë, she always helped her when the civil wars happened, when the roman empire rose, Zoë was there for her, to calm her, ground her and take care of her, loving and devoting herself to both Artemis and Diana

• Zoë sometimes sings the song of the Hespérides only for Artemis and no one else

• Zoë is supposed to have her own tent, but she always stays at Artemis'

• When there alone in their tent, Artemis sometimes turns into a wolf and starts to randomly (and gently) chew on Zoë, who at this point barely even notices

• Artemis took Zoë to hunt with her and her mother Leto once (she approves of her, Zoë is very nervous tho and overly formal with her)

• After Orion was stung by the scorpion, he went mad and tried to attack Artemis, but she defeated him with Zoë, which is why it was Zoë who was always sent to hunt him every time he returned

• Artemis brings Zoë to Olympus as her representative in meetings and companion to parties

• When she died Artemis was trying her best not to lose it in front of her, so she didn't have to worry, so she would go in peace

• Artemis is always staring at the twilight, as if she could see her, as if she could reach her. It's the time of the day she feels the loss all over again, only worsened by the stars of course, the stars

• Zoë went for reincarnation and reached the isle of the blessed and Artemis asked she be turned to a minor goddess for her achievements (kinda like Hercules)

• She does and comes back to Artemis' side, but this time it's forever (delusional)

This got a bit too long but I think that's all, if I think of anything else I'll make another post

[blubushie]

as much as i say shit like 'you cant ship scoutpauling because scouts kind of a loser' its all in good fun and i. really dont care. theyre all fictional characters and other peoples headcanons and interpretations are pretty cool even if i dont agree and if i DONT agree then i just ignore (or for genuinely bad takes like 'medic is a nazi because german doctor!' then i block) because its just not that deep and im not about to get into discourse over it. hardcore multishipper and multi-headcanoner (?), my interpretation of these characters changes for the scenario a lot

Oath oath oath

Also one of my favourite things to do is take really shitty headcanons (subjective) and make them good. Like Nazi Medic? Yeah I roll with it (kinda). In LTBs Medic was in the Wehrmacht in WW2 as a frontlines combat medic specifically because he's Jewish, and part of the Final Solution was forcibly conscripting young German men of Jewish descent and placing them in high-contact front lines (typically on the Eastern Front) where they were practically guaranteed to be killed for the Fatherland.

However because I'm a history nerd I also know there's a major difference between being conscripted into the Wehrmacht and being a fucken Nazi, so Medic isn't actually a Nazi. He was never involved in the Nazi Party for very obvious reasons. He was a combat medic who did his best to save his men (many of which were also conscripted by that point of the war) who very much also didn't want to be there, and didn't fully grasp what exactly it was that they were dying for (not that they had a choice in the matter—pick up your rifle or be shot for desertion).

So in LTBs, Medic was studying to be a doctor when the war began. He'd lived mostly undercover as a Jew, but eventually the Schutzstaffel did enough digging to determine he was Jewish and he was forcibly conscripted with the intention being he'd save Aryan blood and eventually die A Good Jew on the battlefield somewhere. But he survived, and he fled Germany after the war, and eventually got caught up with TF Industries and that's how he ended up a merc. At the worst being in the Wehrmacht may have altered his sense of morality—the horrors of war will do that to a man—but in my eyes Medic has never been a Nazi.

Nazi punks fuck off and all that.

[wordy-little-witch]

Hiii its me again how r u? its hot as hell in my country so im drinking...alot..of water.. so um,, about the vamp buggy blood drinking.. 👁👄👁 can u share us the steamy and maybe nsfw of crossguild n vamp buggy drinking their blood?thank u🙏🙏🙏

Hey, hun! Make sure to stay cool ♡ I live somewhere hot too so it is. Icky. I Get That. Blegh.

As f9r your requested content~

Below the cut, 18+ only ♡♡♡

• the first time is after an attack on Karai Bari. Buggy gets hit with a seastone bullet, protecting someone else, and while the Marines were handled.... swiftly.... following it, the damage was still done. Buggy refused to take from the limited blood stores because their medical tents were targeted specifically. While he may be eccentric to an extent, his crew comes first. He's not DYING, it just.... really sucks.

Removing the bullet is also difficult because it neutralizes Devil Fruits, sure, but only in certain concentrations. One tiny bullet make this fuzzy, exhausting, etc, yeah, but isn't completely debilitating. Surgery is risky. Crocodile can't use his sand to pull it out. It's a hot mess.

Mihawk has the idea to let Buggy feed from one of them - a live donor to skip the medical tents all together. Drink from him, he proposes, to stabilize and then we'll get you taken care of.

Buggy.... finally agrees. He tells Mihawk to just get the bullet out himself if he can, since blood will speed that healing process, and it'll be done and over with quickly. Crocodile sits behind Buggy, wraps him in his arms and sand, and Mihawk coats a small blade with haki and alcohol to be safe.

It's excruciating, but Buggy doesn't scream. He tilts his head back, gritting his teeth, fangs bright in the candle light, pupils shrunken into dangerous slits. It is over quickly, and then Mihawk quickly cleans the blade, shifts his weight, and draws it over his own palm, cupping the blood like an organic chalice, and offers it to Buggy.

Lips and tongue descend onto him in desperation, suckling and soothing the wound as soft moans escape into the humid night air. Buggy nurses the wound like a kitten seeking milk, and Mihawk and Crocodile are left with... tighter pants than usual. Especially when Buggy leans back, lips smeared and stained with a red slightly different to his lipstick, bullet wound now but an echo of phantom pain and his gaze hazy and wanting.

They descend on him in turn that evening.

• the second time actually involves teeth. Mihawk is the one to bring it up. He gives a simple "if you are comfortable with it, I would like you to bite me." Buggy bluescreens, dropping his book as his body clicks apart in surprise.

"What?"

"I would like you to bite me. Feed from me. There are numerous veins you could choose from, and I would consent to most. Preferably, it could involve a sexual component, but I am open to that being withheld."

Maybe it's the candid nature of his request or maybe Buggy is just... comfortable with him, bur he agrees.

They let it happen naturally, kisses and touches wandering, hands exploring and wringing sounds from one another. Buggy goes so far as to even drag a fang carefully along a vein on Mihawk's member between sucking and bobbing his head, a pale hand fisted in his locks.

It's as Buggy is worked open, is sinking down onto the other, thighs trembling his he straddles the swordsman and clings to pale shoulders that his mouth falls open in a moan, that Mihawk steals his breath in a kiss, and then tilts his head pointedly with a wicked smirk. Buggy tightens around him, blushing, but leans in, lips and tongue dragging, sucking, searching, coercing a spot into readiness before he sinks his teeth in, the gradual pace he'd he'd planned thoroughly ruined when Mihawk bucks his hips, catching him off guard, and his fangs sink in all at once. Rich iron explodes on his tongue, loud moans from both exploding, and Buggy's eyes roll back as his senses get overwhelmed with his lover, his Hawkeyes, his Mihawk, so big inside him, so warm around him, so rich in his mouth.

He's cumming so suddenly that he can't even process it, thighs tense and twitching and wet from his release. Mihawk holds him steady, petting his hair, whispering praises into the heated air and still grinding his hips into the wet molten heat of his lover's body. Buggy is overwhelmed. He's hyperaware. He's shaking from it. He needs more. He can only grind his hips downwards, hoping the message gets across, and Mihawk, perceptive, observative Mihawk, grabs his hips and begins a steady, deep, but unhurried pace.

Buggy is left boneless and sated at the end. Mihawk is left covered in scratches, bites, and a glow of complete satisfaction.

• with Crocodile, it's slightly different. It was not discussed explicitly before hand, and it's midway through him fucking Buggy into the mattress, hair a mess and face even worse with his makeup smeared and smudged and ruined. Buggy's teary eyed and clinging and trembling, sensitive but pliant, eager to be a good boy for Crocodile. He's got the hook pressed to his face, and a particular thrust has him crying out sharply, the hook shifting, and Buggy is suddenly biting down desperately on the metal, moaning lewdly. Croc just huffs a laugh.

"Oh, I've got something better for you to bite," he snarks, leaning down. "Let daddy fill you completely..."

Buggy tightens at the statement, mouth falling open again as dropl so hid cheek, and Crocodile tilts his head invitingly with a semi-mean smirk. Buggy clings and whines and begs, huffed moans knocked from his lungs with each punishing thrust. The size differences it difficult, and the first bite is over Crocodile's pec, above the curving scar and marks on his skin. The second his higher, close to his collar bone. The third and final is to the neck, finally done when Buggy regains enough faculty to recall that he can split and reach that way.

The last bite involves a hand in his hair, unyielding but gentle, and when Crocodile moans praise while Buggy swallow that fist proper mouth full, he is done, especially when the other does not stop his hips, instead somehow even seemingly increasing the force and speed.

Buggy's left a mess, incredibly embarrassed because he didn't even know he could squirt, yet Crocodile seems absolutely smug like the cat with the canary.

• anyway yeah, nsfw vampire content eyyyy

[labrxnth]

Prison Break- Part 5 (Leon Kennedy x Reader Series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers, suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 5350 (whoops)

Summary: You and your co-worker Leon Kennedy are sent on a mission to rescue a kidnapped robotic engineer Dr. Antonio Taylor. The journey for him leads the two of you to somewhere you thought you would never go, Alcatraz.

A/n: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. I graduated my students, I fell ill, and I had an ADHD fueled hyperfixation on a specific pale elf made by Larion Studios so here it finally it. I hope the length makes up for the month of silence.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

January 27th, 2015 

You and Leon had been working together for a year and a half. Last year, you two defeated Glen Arias alongside Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers. This year, things were relatively quiet. You hated to say it, but it was quiet. 

You were sitting at your desk that was against the wall in now you and Leon’s shared office. A crate of ice coffee was melting, the condensation dripping from the cups onto the top of your desk. Glancing at the clock, you bit your lip. Normally, Leon would be out of a meeting with the President within an hour, but it was now an hour and 15 minutes, something was up. 

And with it being quiet lately, you could only speculate another big mission was popping up. 

The door opened and Leon walked into the office, looking exhausted and drained. Over the past half a year he had really pulled himself together. His eyes looked more present, less glossed over. He had grown his hair out more, stopped dying it, and styled it like he used to when you first joined. He was also very proud that he started lifting again, something he said that he did all the time in his 20s. 

And all that personal care paid off, because even though he was exhausted from his meeting, he still looked gorgeous. You thought he was really attractive when you joined the D.S.O. and even last year when he had lost a bit of weight and had his depressed alcoholic arc. But you didn’t know just how attractive he could be, and it still amazed you. 

“Are you going to tell me… or….” You said and looked at him. 

He took his coffee out of the tray on your desk and pat your head. Your eyes trailed him to his desk. 

“We have another mission coming up,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat down. He took a sip of his coffee and relaxed in his chair. 

Leon had told you multiple times about his relationship with the past few presidents. Apparently, President Graham scared him shitless when he “asked” Leon to rescue his daughter and he was intimidated by him until his terms ended. President Benford was like a mentor to him and helped found the D.S.O. with Leon; they were pretty close until Leon had to kill him a few years ago. Now, Leon was drained from all the politics of the new guy. 

You smiled to yourself a little bit because you were right about the mission. “You know that’s just watered down coffee, right?” You asked, looking at his iced americano, trying to lighten the mood.

He looked at you from his desk, almost scoffing in reply. “Like I’m gonna take coffee advice from you. You’d guzzle the grounds if you could,” He said, turning his attention back to the folder in his hands. 

You sat there with your mouth open, not knowing how to reply to that. Closing your mouth, you turned back to your laptop, typing away at a case file. 

“We have to go to New York,” Leon said after a few seconds of silence. “We’re going to attend an upcoming biology summit and check in on a few things.” 

“Meaning, there’s a potential virus being sold?” You asked. The past few months after dealing with Arias had been mostly doing work for the government, so bounty hunting and few and far between B.O.W. hunting. 

Leon nodded and your heart jumped with excitement. It was kind of morbid to put it this way, but you loved work like this. This was why you joined the D.S.O.

“We’ll be undercover so be on your best behavior,” Leon said. 

“Yessir,” you said and jokingly saluted. 

“And another thing…. We’ll be undercover as a couple… so try to pretend like you like me,” Leon said and grinned. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

January 30, 2015

Ingrid’s eyes trailed up and down your figure, looking at the dress and seeing if it complimented your skin tone and hair color. The D.S.O. was providing the wardrobe for the mission, the racks of dresses they had filled you and Leon’s office. 

When the racks were brought in, Ingrid didn’t explain why the D.S.O. had so many when you and Sherry were technically the only female agents. She also kicked Leon out of the office so she could help you try on the dresses and pick out the one. 

You were standing in the middle of the office, a burgundy coloured dress hugging your figure. The bodice had straps that fell off the shoulder, corset ribbing, and enough cleavage to make your mother pass out while still keeping it classy. The bottom hugged your figure on one side and had a long slit on the other, trailing up to your thigh. It felt Greek and Romantic, while also being modern. 

You felt like a million bucks. 

“Wow,” Ingrid said, looking over you again. “With your hair and makeup done, you could probably get it at the summit,” she added and chuckled. 

You looked down at the dress. “Why does the D.S.O. have this?” You asked again, clearly stuck on the question. Sherry Birkin hadn’t been back from traveling for a mission in years, and she was pretty young, so it genuinely made no sense to you. 

“Does it matter?” Ingrid replied. “The D.S.O. keeps them just in case. A lot of times they’re purchased for the mission. Tax write offs and stuff.”

You nodded in reply, letting Ingrid touch up the dress a little bit. 

“This will go nicely with what Leon’s wearing…” she said, mentally taking notes. She walked over to a box and pulled out a pair of heels higher than you had ever worn before. 

“Are you trying to get my ankle snapped in half?” You asked and looked at her in shock. 

“You’ve worn heels before, what’s a few more inches? And they’re designer, when else will you get a chance to wear them?” She asked. 

If you weren’t in awe of the shoes, you would have glared at her. “True…” you trailed off and tried the heels on. 

“Okay, now take everything off and I’ll pack them away,” Ingrid said and turned around so you could change. 

After handing the dress and shoes to her, you put your regular clothes on, feeling less like a million bucks. Ingrid put the dress and shoes in a suitcase along with a box of jewelry. 

“Alright… I’ll leave these with you. Good luck,” She said and smiled at you. 

You walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. No amount of hugs could make up for her landing you this job, or even just being your friend when you got lost in the sea of USSTRATCOM agents. But still, it was the thought that counted.

The two of you hugged each other for a good while, making a silent promise to work hard and for you to make it back in one piece. “I’ll try not to drive you insane this time,” you said and smiled at her. 

“You know better than making promises you can’t keep,” she replied and chuckled. The two of you broke the hug. 

The room was littered with clothing racks and  discarded dresses. “I’ll help you bring the racks back,” You said, looking around the room. 

“Don’t bother, I’ll have it done in two trips tops. And you need to get going, check in time for the hotel ends at 11pm,” she said. 

You nodded and picked up your bag and suitcase. “Talk to you later,” you said and gave her a toothy, warm, smile as you walked out the door. 

Walked through the D.S.O. office, you made your way to your locker, grabbing the duffel bag you carried around on missions. It had your knives, guns, and pretty much a small armory in it. 

“Ready to get going?” Leon asked, walking up next to you to go through his locker. 

“Yup,” you replied, slinging the duffel bag over your shoulder. 

“Let’s get going then,” he said, smiling at you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

January 31, 2015

“Name?” 

“Nathalie Oakes,” you replied, confident in your fake persona. The two of you, you and Leon were putting the finishing touches on your outfits. With a job like this, all of the details mattered, how he cuffed his sleeves, what you wore for jewelry, everything. 

“My name?” Leon asked, fixing the collar of his blazer and undershirt. He was wearing a suit that was matching the dress shade, his blazer and undershirt being the same shade. His tie was black and so were the pants. The way he had his shirt and blazer, the shirt was unbuttoned a little bit so his chest was slightly out. Almost like he had cleavage, which if you were honest he kind of did. That man worked on his chest like he was paid to do it. 

“Edward Wingate,” you answered. Your fingers gently pulled the top off of the velvet covered jewelry box, staring at the almost blinding gold necklace. Picking it up, you were trying to figure out how to clasp and unclasp it with your nails.

Ingrid had treated you to a manicure the other day. Adorning your fingertips were acrylics, nude colored and almond shaped. When you had asked how to shoot or fight in them, you were met with snickers and were told to figure it out yourself. 

So you did. Spending the last few days in the shooting ring and training rooms, making sure you were confident in your abilities with the nails on your hands. A chuckle came from behind you and Leon’s hand gently grabbed the necklace. “Need help?” He asked. 

You nodded in reply and pulled your hair up so he could put the necklace on you. 

“It's funny, I’ve seen you kick ass hundreds of times and you’re getting stuck on trying to put a necklace on,” He said, the everpresent teasing fronting his voice. 

“It’s these damn nails. I have so much respect for people that function with these things. And I can still kick your ass with these on,” You retorted, earning another chuckle from the man behind you. 

Looking at the mirror, you saw a reflection of a life you could only dream of. A woman dressed up to the nines and her partner helping with her jewelry. The juxtaposition to what your reality was was almost taunting. Where there were ivory colored gloves in the mirror, there was usually blood; yours and others’. The hair that fell smoothly like silk sat on top of the head that was filled with nightmares. Nothing in the mirror was a true reflection, except for the man behind you. 

You dreamed of finding the one person who got you, emotionally and physically. One who always had your back and would be there for you on the nights where you remembered the blood filled apartment in Manchester. Leon was the one person in your life who could quell the cold isolation, the icy, crushing feeling of your past. He didn’t know about your feelings for him, he couldn’t. 

Even if the feelings for him overwhelmed you in only a way that a full symphonic orchestra could. His smile made the world feel a little brighter, his laughter made life sweeter, He was like honey added to coffee, something that made a bitter drink sweet and a different palate. 

“Alright, done,” Leon said and pat your shoulder lightly. 

Your eyes looked at the gold adorning your neck and you smiled. “Thanks,” you said warmly and turned around to get the purse that matched your dress. The feeling of someone staring at you made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, something you had from the STRATCOM training. 

Looking in the mirror to your left you saw Leon staring at you, something that happened quite a bit, but this time it was differently charged. Something was fueling the look on his face, but as usual, he was hard to read. He noticed you looking at him in the reflection of the mirror and he turned his face towards the wall, pretending like he wasn't staring at you.

“You ready?” You asked, willing to ignore that he was blatantly staring at you. 

“Yeah,” He replied and grabbed his Sentinel 9, sliding it into his blazer and through his shoulder holster under the jacket. 

Turning towards your bed, you grabbed your holster, fastening it to your thigh under the dress. The slit was on the other thigh so it wouldn’t reveal the holster. 

“Ready Miss Oakes?” Leon mused, holding his arm out for you. 

“Ready Mr. Wingate,” You replied, smiling a bit and taking his arm. This all felt wrong, but right at the same time. What would it feel like if instead of a mission, this was your reality? What if instead of heaving Edward Wingate on your side you had Leon Kennedy? It was jarring, as jarring as the emotions you had been trying to sort out the last few months. Swimming somewhere between your heart and your brain were your complicated emotions. 

They really weren’t complicated, your situation was. 

If Leon wasn’t your coworker and technically your superior, you would’ve tried to go for it, but the reality was that your lives could get messy. You didn’t want him to potentially get in trouble for fraternization, you didn’t want your relationship to change if there was rejection, and most importantly you didn’t want either of your potential deaths to hurt more. 

If you left your feelings unsaid, the chance of you or Leon dying wouldn’t sting as much. So, your feelings were buried between your tight lips, unspoken and never going to be explored.

“You okay? You seem lost in thought,” Leon said, his eyes meeting yours. The clicks of your high heels and his shoes were echoing through the hall on the way to the elevator. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about the mission,” You replied as the two of you stepped into the elevator. Your gloved finger pressed the 6 button.

“Our target is a potential C-virus sample. Most of the summit will be held on the 6th floor and a lot of the vendors will be here starting tomorrow. Tonight is the dinner party that starts off the summit. Everyone will be busy socializing and drinking,” Leon reminded you. 

“Meaning tonight is our best bet to get in and out unnoticed,” You said, smiling. 

“Meaning, our job will be a lot easier if we get it tonight,” He said. 

The elevator opened to the 6th floor, warm yellow lights illuminating the space. The room was open, the venue taking up the whole floor. Across the walls were floor to ceiling windows, the city lights coloring the dark horizon and sky. The floor was dark wood, glossy in finish, and the ceiling was an off gray color with golden details. All over the room were circular tables with chairs around them, the tables adorned with empty champagne glasses, cutlery, napkins, plates, and candles. 

“I feel like I don’t belong here,” You said quietly. The last undercover mission you went on was almost the polar opposite of this. 

“Don’t let them make you feel inferior. They’ll see through the disguise,” Leon assured you as you two walked into the room more. “And don’t sell yourself short. More importantly, don’t let rich assholes sell yourself short. You’re worth more than everything in this room put together,” He added. 

You smiled a bit, redness slightly painting the tips of your ears. “Thanks for the confidence boost. I’ll make sure to put this down as one of the only times you were sweet to me,” You said, looking at him. He opened his lips to say something, but closed them as someone was making their way over to you two with a clipboard. 

“Good evening, I presume you’re here for the North Eastern Biotech Summit?” The man said. He was dressed in a usual black tie suit. He stood around 5’11”, being only a few inches taller than Leon and looked to be around your age. 

You didn’t miss how Leon almost changed into a completely new person with his energy level and atmosphere. You also didn’t miss how his arm suddenly snaked around your waist, pulling you close to him. The corners of your mouth upturned into a warm friendly smile at the contact and the man in front of the two of you. 

It was all for the mission, that’s what you convinced yourself. Being a couple, that was for the mission, but enjoying it? That wasn’t part of the mission. 

“Of course! Edward Wingate, and this is my lovely fiancé, soon to be Mrs. Wingate,” Leon said, his voice sounding like silk. As he spoke, he pulled you close to him, squeezing the two of you in a side hug. 

The man in front of the two of you checked his clipboard, his eyes skimming down the list of names on his sheet. His eyes lit up when he saw the two names you presented. 

“Ah yes, Mr. Wingate and Ms. Oakes,” He replied, putting the clipboard down and gesturing to a table. “Let me help you find your seat,” He added. The two of you followed the man to a table in the corner of the room. 

As you got closer to the table, you tried to process all the people here, their fancy clothes, and their arm candies. The people paired with the lights, and the complete lack of smell in the room was almost too much for you to handle. 

Leon and you sat down at the table, your hands immediately going to the glass filled with water. The cool liquid made its way down your throat and relief was evident on your face. As you put your glass down, another couple sat next to Leon, their outfits as extravagant as the venue. There was a man and a woman, the woman looking slightly older than the man. 

“Hello! You weren’t here last year, it’s always good to meet a new supporter,” The woman said and outstretched her hand to Leon. After they shook hands, she outstretched the same hand to you, which you took as elegantly as you could. 

“Finally got invited to join in on the summit this year. We’re excited to see what the latest developments in biotech are,” Leon replied, smiling at the two of them. He lightly put his hand on your thigh, the warmth spreading through your body. If you were drinking, you would have almost choked on the water. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Blaire, this is Ambrose,” The woman said and gestured to the young man next to her. Looking at his hand, you could see the two of them were engaged, the gold engagement rings sparkling. You slid your hand onto the tablecloth, so the two of them could observe that you and Leon were also “engaged”. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, Im Edward, this is Nathalie,” Leon gestured to you, almost showing you off. Your mind wandered off to thinking about what if it was Leon who was showing you off, not Edward showing off Nathalie. Could you ever make him proud to introduce other people to you?

“The summit this year is said to be the biggest yet,” Blaire said. Her midnight blue dress was stunning against her skin. The gold jewelry could catch anyone’s eyes. 

“That so? It certainly is a special night,” Leon said and chuckled a bit. You were surveying the room, seeing where the wait staff and other people were coming out of, making it look like you were taking in the decor. 

A frazzled worker coming out a door directly across the room from your table caught your eye. From your seat, you could see shelves and what looked like a storage room, or a green room that the items being showcased in could stay while waiting for tomorrow. 

Your eyes glanced back over to the couple sitting next to Leon and you smiled warmly at them, playing the role of the pretty arm candy that didn’t talk much. 

“We’re going to the bar for a few drinks, want to come?” Ambrose asked warmly and gestured to the bar on the opposite end of the room. It was close to the storage room you saw earlier.

Before Leon could object, you spoke for the two of you. “Of course,” You replied with a smile. 

As the two of them got up, Leon looked at you, his eyes asking for an explanation. Giving him a look back, your eyes told him, trust me, I have a plan already. He nodded in acknowledgement and you two got up, following Blaire and Ambrose. 

The four of you got to the bar counter and you looked up at Leon. “Hey, honey, I’m gonna head to the bathroom, could you just get me a vodka lemonade?” You asked and held his elbow lightly. 

Leon’s eyes twinkled a little bit, him knowing what you were really saying. “Of course, I’ll hold your drink for you,” He said. Before you walked away, he leaned in and kissed the top of your head. 

Your rational side knew why he did it, it was strictly to play your parts, but the part of you that dreamt about a different life fluttered when his lips met your head. Heat ran to your face as you blushed and started walking towards the bathroom. 

If there was one thing you didn’t want, it was for Leon to see the red painted across your cheeks. Then your feelings would be questioned. 

Making sure no one was watching, you walked past the bathroom and towards the storage closet. 

The first thing you noticed about the room was that it was cold, like a walk in freezer. The next thing you noticed were the lights, they were a cold blue hue, no warmth found in them at all. The very last thing you noticed was the lack of smell. Where the scent of mildew and/or dust would be filling your noses there was nothing. Not even the various cleaners on the shelf were creating a smell. 

Looking around the room, you saw various gadgets and displays set up for the summit. Each piece was on its own roll out table,but one in particular caught your eye. On a smaller display table, there was a closed briefcase. If you were lucky, the vial containing the virus sample would be in there, if not, you would have to survive more socializing. 

Walking over to it, your eyes traced over the case, looking for any signs of vents or anything else that could be a trap. Clearing the case, you brought your finger up to your earpiece. 

“Condor 2 to Roost, I found the delivery. Am I cleared to grab it?” You asked.  

“Condor 2, good job. You’re cleared to grab it,” Ingrid’s voice rang out in your earpiece. 

You nodded to yourself and studied the case again, making sure it wasn’t trapped. Flicking the clasps open, you saw the vial. Inside of the small glass container was a red substance that looked almost sticky. Reaching out to it, your hand went to grab it. 

Suddenly, you felt a strong sting of heat course through your hand. Smelling a burning sort of smell, you ripped your hand away from the glass and looked at it, seeing a second degree burn forming through the glove you were wearing. Snickering in annoyance, you bunched up both of your gloves and picked up the vial, stuffing it in your purse and thinking of a way to conceal the burn on your hand. 

Walking out of the storage room, you made your way back to Leon and the others getting their drinks. Leon went to hand you your glass, but his eyes immediately caught on to the burned palm of your hand. His eyebrow raised in questioning and the look you gave in response didn’t ease his worries. 

“Well, it’s been good to meet you two, I think Nathalie is feeling rather ill. We’re gonna head back to our room,” Leon said, looking over at the two he had walked to the bar with. 

Blaire and Ambrose nodded in respect and left to go back to the table. Leon’s eyes went back to your hand, concern written across his face. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” He asked. 

“I suggest that we get back to the room then have this conversation before the sample vial burns a hole through my purse,” You retorted quietly and walked with him. 

The two of you slipped out of the party, unnoticed, just like how you had gotten in. The job was as easy as Hunnigan had said, in and out, and other than the burn on your hand you both came out unscathed. 

“We’re talking and walking,” Leon said as the two of you got out of the elevator, walking down the hallway to your room. His voice told you that he wasn’t asking, more telling you that you two were going to talk. 

“The glass burned my hand, that was it, everything else was fine,” You replied as you made your way to the door to your room. 

“I’m patching that up when we get inside,” Leon said, again leaving no room for debate. 

“Fine,” You mumbled and swiped the keycard, opening the door. 

The two of you walked in, you immediately getting out of your heels and leaving them by the door. You were about to head into the shower, before Leon closed the bathroom door from behind you. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was staring intently at you. 

“Before anything, I’m fixing that hand of yours,” He said, his breath hot on your neck. You turned around, looking him in the face. 

“I want to get out of my makeup and this dress,” You replied, a slight whine in your tone. 

“You’ll get to later,” He said, almost pulling you to the bed. Begrudgingly, you sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him walk to the bathroom. While you were getting ready, earlier today, you didn’t notice how soft the bedsheets were. The silk pooled under your fingers, wanting to lull you to sleep. 

Leon returned from the bathroom, with a bowl filled with water, a first aid kit, and a couple hand towels. Your face scrunched a bit, uncomfortable with the idea of someone doing something that you could do yourself. 

“Leon, I’ll be fine. I can bandage myself up after I get changed,” You said, trying to quell him. However, one of the things that you had learned early on while working with Leon Kennedy was that he never walked away from someone needing help, no matter how small or big the need was. 

The bed dipped as he sat next to you, pulling your hand so that it was face up on his thigh. “And what happens when you don’t fix it and you get scarring or can’t use your hand as well as you used to? This is your shooting hand, don’t be stubborn,” He insisted. 

“‘Don’t be stubborn?’ That’s rich coming from you,” You replied, eyes scrunched together waiting for the pain of him putting your hand in the bowl of cold water. 

Where you expected there to be pain from the water, there was relief. Part of you wished that it was running water, but the other part of you knew it might’ve been rough on the freshly buried skin. 

“Just relax, I’ll take good care of you,” Leon said, his hands going to open the first aid kit. 

“That really makes me feel better,” You said back snarkily. 

“Good to hear that you didn’t lose your sense of humor,” 

“I got a burn on my hand, I didn’t get impaled,” 

Leon chuckled a little bit and took your hand out of the bowl, putting it down on one of the hand towels. “I thought I trained you to say ‘thank you’ when someone helps,” He replied, a glint of teasing in his eyes. 

“You didn’t teach me shit other than how to shotgun a beer,” You replied, a smirk on your face. 

Leon’s small chuckle turned into a hearty laugh. “Fair, fair,” He replied and started to bandage your hand. “Good eye, seeing where the displays were held. The job was easy thanks to you.”

“Is that praise from Leon Kennedy?” You asked, feigning shock. “Oh my god, the world is ending.”

“Hey, I give you enough praise,” He retorted and lighting wrapped the bandages around your hand, lightly tying them. “Okay, your hand is all set and will be as pretty as it usually is soon,” He added with a toothy grin. 

“Thanks,” You said and looked at the bandaging, your voice softening. 

“Before you change, I have something else for you,” Leon said, walking over to the fridge in the room. Your eyes followed him and watched him pull a box out of the fridge and a large bottle of sparkling cider. 

“What’s the occasion?” You asked as he walked back to the bed with two forks and two flutes. 

“It’s January 31st….” Leon trailed off.

“Oh,” You replied softly and looked at the box. Leon opened it up and revealed a tiramisu cake, simple and plain, just like you liked it. 

“I’m sorry you had to be on a mission tonight, but our lives are what they are,” He said and handed you a fork. “I know you like tiramisu cake and you hate most types of alcohol so I got you some goodies,” He added with a soft smile.

“Thank you, I haven’t had anyone to spend tonight with for a long time,” You replied, taking the fork and flute. 

“Before we eat, actually, I think it’s a waste that we didn’t get to dance while in these fancy ass clothes,” Leon stood up, walking to the radio in the room and putting on a classical music station. 

“I don’t know how to dance,” You said. 

“If you can fight, you can dance, it’s pretty much the same thing,” He replied and held his hand out to you. 

“You say that now, but you won't be laughing when I step on your foot,” You warned, taking his hand with your good one and standing up. Leon laughed in reply and pulled you close to him, his hand finding a respectful spot on your waist. 

“How do I put up with you?” He asked dramatically, his eyes sparkling with humor. 

“I should be asking that question,” You replied. “Maybe, we were meant to annoy the shit out of each other.”

The two of you chuckled as you swayed together to the music. Leon’s eyes never left yours and the way he was looking at you felt… intimate. Like you were the only person in the world to him and you were all he wanted. 

“Happy birthday, (Y/n),” He said after a few seconds of silence and smiled. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Present Day

You saw Leon’s mouth moving on the other side of the prison cell bars, but couldn’t hear a word he was saying. His blue eyes were staring at you, squeezing shut in a grimace every few seconds. If you were going to get infected after all the missions the two of you had gone through, you were happy that at least you could lose your minds together. Nothing else mattered to you other than the feeling of closeness you two had in the moment and your fingers laced together through the jail cell bars. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic early on my AO3!

[talkintrashcann]

Campout - Xavier Thorpe [pt.3]

summary: the friendgroup is going on a camping trip and miscalculated how many tents they needed, so now you have to share a tent with your least favorite person.

warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, multiple parts, fear of drowning

word count: 1.8k

a/n: im terribly sorry for disappearing for about a month, i didn't mean to be gone for so long. my life has been put upside down for the past couple weeks and ive had to figure some things out about my future so writing wasn't my priority at that time, but ive got it all figured out now (for the most part) so im not planning on taking so long for the next chapter. i promise the story is actually getting somewhere this time !

[part 1] [part 2] [part 4] . . .

———————

Acting like nothing had happened earlier today, everyone was sitting by the campfire munching on their food while they all ignored the obvious tension between you and Xavier. They were used to situations like these by now, but for some reason it felt as if something in the two of you changed. You used to give each other angry glares and held those for hours, whereas now you can't even make eye contact for longer than 5 seconds. The tension was slowly shifting throughout this trip, and there was no way of stopping it.

"Hey Enid, what have you got in store for us tomorrow? Please tell me it's not as exhausting as today's hike.", Kent caught everyone's attention.

"That's a surprise. I don't want anyone to complain about the plans I made again, so you'll just have to wait and see. But I'm sure you will all love it, we're gonna have so much fun !", the girl that couldn't hide her excitement said. It was obvious that the group was a bit skeptical about Enid's interpretation of fun, but hopefully this time she's right. What's the worst that could happen?

For the rest of the night everyone was singing along to some campfire songs while Divina was playing the guitar, for just a moment you forgot everything that happened today. You loved moments like these, just you and your friends enjoying each other's company while singing riptide at the top of your lungs. This was the exact reason why you said yes to this trip, these were times you wished would never be over. But all nice things must come to an end, and soon everyone disappeared to their tent once more. Surprisingly enough your tent was quiet for once, neither of you wanting to speak to another. Maybe because you were simply too tired from today's exhausting hike, falling asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow.

Waking up pretty early the next day, you realized you were the first one to be awake. You opened your eyes and turned around to find Xavier laying not so far away from you, a strand of his long hair covering his eyes. He looked quite handsome like this, sadly enough he wasn't always this quiet and peaceful. Remembering what he did to you yesterday, you got up with a smirk as you thought about your great plan to get him back somehow. Sneaking out of the tent as quiet as possible, you grabbed a cup that someone left near the campfire and filled it with lake water. Already giggling to yourself as you walked back to the tent with the cup in your hands, careful not to spill too much water from it already. And just like that, you threw the cup with water over Xavier's head.

Waking up confused and in shock, he looked over to see you sitting next to him dying of laughter. He on the other hand was definitely not laughing with the little prank you pulled on him, instead he pushed himself up and dragged you out of your shared tent. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you towards the lake, you quickly realized what his intentions were.

"You're gonna regret doing that to me.", he said with his deep morning voice. You'd never admit this but you'd be lying if you said he didn't sound a little hot with that voice, or maybe more than just a little.

"Nonono, please don't Xavier.", you tried to convince him not to drop you in the lake.

"Please, I'm begging you.", desperately trying to change his mind you tightly held on to him as you were getting closer and closer to the lake. The word begging caught Xavier's attention, surprised to hear how much you're willing to do just so he wouldn't drop you into the shallow water. Of course he noticed your tight grip on him too, figuring this was more than just something you didn't like. He could even see tears forming in the corner of your eyes, making him feel bad all of a sudden. Seeing you annoyed was like music to his ears, but realizing he caused you actual suffering felt so wrong. He never thought hearing you beg would feel everything but satisfying. Right before you reached the lake, he slowly put you back down on your feet without saying a word. As soon as your toes hit the ground you ran back to the tent and stayed there until it was time to leave for Enid's big surprise.

After a long and not so calming drive you finally reached today's destination, Kent hurrying out of the car the second you made it. His stomach was a little sensitive and all the turns in the mountains didn't help with that at all, but Enid's surprise definitely made him feel better.

"Okay, it's time to reveal the big surprise... We're going kayaking!!", Enid yelled out and the others jumped up with pure excitement. You on the other hand felt your stomach drop as you thought about how terribly wrong this could go. You were terrified of drowning and would much rather avoid anything that could lead to that, so you weren't exactly fond of the thought to go kayaking. But you never told anyone about this, not even your best friend, and you most definitely didn't want anyone to find out about this. You remembered how Enid said she didn't want to hear any complaints about today, so you tried to hide your anxiety building up to not ruin everyone's day but it felt as if your heart was beating outside of your chest.

"All the kayaks are for two people so let's pair up with our tent buddy and get ready to race!"

"We are so winning this.", Ajax spoke while showing everyone his winner pose.

"You don't have a chance against us, Serpent.", Bianca said as she leaned against Kent.

You didn't pay any mind to what the others were saying, too busy trying to process the whole facing-your-biggest-fear thing. While the group was so focused on fighting over who's going to win this race, Xavier was looking at you this entire time. He noticed how anxious you looked and couldn't help but think back about what happened at camp earlier, aware that you're trying to hide something from him. Not wanting to bother you with everyone else still being here, he decided to leave you alone for a bit until the others were gone.

Before you even know, all your friends had left off in their kayak and it was now your turn. Shaking on your legs as you took a couple of deep breaths before stepping into the kayak, Xavier following soon after. He wanted to win this race, hell he wants to win at everything. But he had a feeling he wasn't winning this time, at least not in the way he had hoped for.

"If we want to win this race we better start paddling now."

Xavier was really pushing you over the edge right now. All you needed was a couple more seconds to mentally prepare yourself, but he couldn't even give you that. Ignoring his existence completely, you once again tried to calm down. But that calmness didn't stay for long.

"Can you start moving already? I don't wanna get behind on the others and I'm definitely not planning on doing all the work by myself."

His complaining only fueled your anxiety more and more, ready to burst any moment now. You couldn't help but panic, needing to get out of this kayak and off the water this instant. Unfortunately your kayak had already drifted off a little too far from the shore for you to just get up and walk back. Feeling hopeless and scared, you couldn't help but cry as you were looking for a way to get out of the unsteady kayak.

Xavier froze in his spot as he saw you cry in front of him, he didn't understand what was happening. He might not know what you're so afraid of, but what he was certain of was that your fear was very much real and you needed to calm down asap. Except, you weren't calming down at all. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks, your breathing was unstable and you were shaking so much that the kayak started shaking too. You looked at your reflection in the water, trying to see how deep it was but your tears blurred your vision.

Something in his mind clicked, he needed to get you back to shore immediately. So without any hesitation he jumped out of the kayak, the water coming up to his chest, and picked you up in his arms. He had you cling to him as he carried you over the water, arms tightly wrapped around his neck and nails slightly digging into his skin out of pure fear. It didn't bother him though, he'll allow you to do so if it gives you a more secure feeling.

He didn't pay any mind to the salesman desperately yelling at him to bring back his kayak, to be completely honest he couldn't give two fucks at the moment. All he cared about was you. Yes, you. He couldn't explain why he felt the need to help you for once, he didn't even understand it himself in all honesty. And it sure as hell didn't make any sense to you either, the guy that tries to make your life a living hell suddenly starts being nice to you. There must be something hidden behind his caring behavior, he'll probably strike you with another rude action later. You were sure of it.

Wriggling yourself out of his grip as soon as he got out of the water, you turned around and walked away to hide yourself from everything else behind a large tree. You needed a moment to calm down after what just happened, a moment to just let the tears stream down your face in peace. You felt embarrassed that he out of all people had to witness that, you wished he'd never seen you that way. Certain he'd never let you forget this, he'd bug you with this till the end of time. Or that's what you assumed he'd do. But in reality, Xavier wasn't planning on telling a soul about this. Not because people would find out he did have a heart, but because this wasn't a pleasant experience for you.

It seemed like things had changed in Xavier's dark heart, could it be that he had grown a soft spot for you? Or was this just another trick of him to get your trust, just so he could break it later?

To be continued . . .

———————

Taglist !¡ @wintrr13 @hayleematyas16 @deepblueoceanwaters @purexfuego @loriasposts @princekooks @hope92100 @just-amess @sweaterxav @pookiewookies @lcvecstiel @reading-writing-737 @ahintofvanilla @xavierthropepartner @poison-ivy-737 @rumoured-whispers @honethatty12 @pippipsquirtsquirt @araxw

if you would like to be added to the taglist for campout please let me know in the comments or through asks/dms!

[cakesmelons]

Ok but what if instead of Nightmare dying, he is just in a coma but Dream still marries Error, but Nightmare isn't buried and his body sealed away somewhere in the castle walls, and when he wakes up to find out that Error was crowned King, he sneaks past the guards and when they are alone, he kills Error, thee end.

The method of which Nightmare kills Error differs between if Dream is pregnant and/or has a baby. Oh, also Dream would be bedridden for days or even weeks out of pure shock and confusion.

Yes, I am just wanting to see Nightmare beat the ever-living crap out of Error.

okay so.... i don't know how well known/ understood comas were back in the 1840s (when the frozen au is set.) but here's what im thinking. Nightmare was assumed dead (his goop kept him alive.) Dream, out of fear of the kingdom vandalizing and not giving respect to Nightmare's grave, instead sealed him away in the castle.

All of Dream's negativity of having to marry the person who murdered his brother (maybe even having to conceive his child) helps for Nightmare's goop to start to heal Nightmare. and then Nightmare awakens from his coma.

Nightmare makes his way outside where he was sealed away, and anyone who sees him is shocked. ("The Queen has resurrected! Clearly this is a sign from God that we were wrong, and that THIS is our rightful ruler!")

and then nightmare finds them. error and dream, laying side by side in bed. Dream looks awful. Nightmare will likely choose between a swift death (tendril stab to the soul) or a more torturous one after what Error put the twins through. If Nightmare settles on torturing Error, then he'll wake up Dream first.

Dream would, at first, simply think he's hallucinating. (he watched his brother die in his arms, there's no way his brother is standing in front of him, gently waking him up) but once he realizes no, this is actually his brother, he'd sob and cry in relief.

Neither twin would actually care if Error was in the child's life (they didn't have a father and they turned out perfectly fine! :D) so they'd kill error slowly, torture him like he tortured the twins for the short amount of time he was in their lives.

And dream would be so fucking clingy, always accompanying nightmare everywhere. being terrified that he'll wake up one day, and instead of having his brother back, he'll be in bed, right next Error.

[the-kr8tor]

I have an idea.

Think about, A pearl the song from mitski

Think about the angst potential!

r and hobie being highschool sweethearts that grow apart due to him being bitten, ultimately ending in the end of their relationship. R thinks hobie is falling out of love with them, so they overthink and hobie never being there also causes a huge miscommunication error.

Whilst R wonders what they did wrong and see hobie at a gig/somewhere one night. The feelings they had for hobie never went away. And the Pearl is hobie in question and their memories that they play on repeat in their mind. But this gig/place hobie is spiderpunk and reveals himself from whose being the spiderpunk mask. R also then realizes and lines up the dates. And so its like this one big thing based off the lyrics (can you tell im thinking of angst and listening to mistki right now?)

But no add onto it add onto the angst.

R has to run from this because she cant handle it, and once hobie has revealed himself hes already cut off with R.

But villians or osborn have already found out he loved R at one point and think he just cut them off just to protect them (definitely a reason why)

And like think about them using R when fighting hobie putting R at risk.

Think about ultimately the panick hobie would be in because he hasnt lost feelings either, Rs one of the people hes ever loved/known. And all the memories come flashing back to him and it shows due to the boarders around him. Will he or will he not be able to save R?

Think about how much itd crush him if he didnt, hed blane himself 100% and in retrospect R wouldve dies from a broken heart and a huge miscommunication between their highschool sweetheart

And the song a pearl shows Rs thoughs and feelings with some lyrics then hobies with other lyrics. And then some of the lyrics show both of their shared thoughts

Did this make sense i feel like it didnt bit did?

What is up with you lovelies making me cry? Is this revenge? This is revenge right? 😭😭😭

this is so good tho like Hobie thinks r doesn't care for him anymore and r thinks the same and they both thought that it's better to just leave than get hurt further and and 😭😭😭 r dying in his arms bc he could only manage to save them last minute so r is gravely injured and they lament about all the time wasted not with eachother 😭

[iamthecomet]

Comet im sick and if your doing the lil ficlets can I get sick!whoever (dew) getting taken care of by mountain and ifrit and being whiny and bratty but still liking that he's being taken care of.

I'm sorry you're sick! I hope you feel better soon! <3 I'm sorry this took me too many days. The words haven't been wording well lately.

Dew's awful when he's sick. He'll never admit it out loud. but he knows it. He knows he's a pain in the ass. But when he feels like this? He can't help it. He feels like shit. His already barely there filter is non-existent.

He just wants to feel better. And nothing helps. He's drank probably six hundred cups of Rain's stupid tea and that hasn't done anything except make his mouth feel weird, and his head feel even fuzzier. It was supposed to make him sleep. It just made him feel like he was on the wrong side of high. Feverish and loopy. Rain keeps bringing him more. He feels a little bad for snapping at him, but it feels like he's being slowly poisoned and he's already going to die from whatever this is and that's bad enough. And Aether's magic only lasts as long as Aether can touch him, which isn't long considering Dew is burning up. He buries himself deeper into his blankets. He curls up on the couch in the common room. And he pouts. His head is pounding, he's freezing cold, and somehow sweating, his body hurts. He hopes the pits of hell will open up and swallow him. It would be better than this. At least then he'd be warm.

He watches too much television, reruns of tv shows he hates. The same horror movie on repeat until his head aches worse. He tries to sleep. He can't. Ifrit and Mountain show up in the middle of the third day. Ifrit first. Poking his head into the common room and seeing a pale, miserable Dew sitting cross-legged on the couch, bundled in blankets. The TV is still on, a rattling drone, but it's clear Dew isn't actually watching it. His eyes are glassy, fixed somewhere in the middle distance. "Droplet?" Ifrit asks stepping into the room. Dew glances over at him. Dew shoves both of his hands out of the cacoon he's made for himself and makes grabby hands towards Ifrit. "Where have you been?" Dew demands. "I've been freezing." "What do you have?" Ifrit asks warily.

"Some stupid shit from the siblings."

"How many times do I--" "Yeah yeah yeah, stop fraternizing with the Humans. whatever. just, come over here. Please. I'm dying."

Ifrit sighs, but he doesn't say no. Instead he sits next to Dew, and wraps both of his arms around the little fire ghoul. He's hot to the touch, but Ifrit can feel the tremor in his body from the shivering. He cranks up his own body heat, resting his chin on top of Dew's head. "I forgot how tight you hold people," Dew grumbles, but he makes no move to pull away, instead he sinks deeper into Ifrit's embrace. Ifrit rolls his eyes, knowing Dew can't see it. "Do you want me to go away?" "Don't you fucking dare." Mountain finds them like that, an hour later. Ifrit's still cradling Dew against his chest, half asleep. Dew is somewhere between sleep and awake, still too feverish to actually sleep. But the warmth is dragging him down. Finally, he's comfortable. Mountain drops down onto his other side. "Firefly," Mountain says softly. Ifrit's eyes crack open to look at him. Dew shifts to do the same. Mountain's holding a mug, more tea. Dew makes a face, wrinkling his nose up and pressing his face back into Ifrit's chest.

"No more tea, that shit fucks me up."

"It's not the same tea." Mountain says. He runs his hand up Dew's spine. The fire ghoul is almost impossibly hot. But Mountain doesn't pull his hand away, if anything he sets it down heavily, a slow stroke up and down his spine. "That shit Rain gave me was nasty."

"He was trying to help, Firefly." Mountain says gently. "But that blend doesn't work as well on fire ghouls as it does on water ghouls." He holds the mug out for Dew. Dew stares at it dubiously. He shifts enough so that he can sniff it. It isn't the same as the one Rain had been forcing on him. Instead of spruce he smells cinnamon. "It's not going to make me loopy?" "It's going to make you sleep."

Dew wavers, eyes darting between Mountain and the mug. Ifrit nudges him in the ribs. "Drink the fucking tea, Dewdrop." Dew growls, but he takes the mug from Mountain. He takes one small sip. He knows immediately it's different. It doesn't coat his mouth. Instead he feels the warmth of it settle through him. He drinks it quickly--immune to the heat of it as he is. He hands the mug back to Mountain, and settles back into Ifrit's side with a small grumble about something. It's hard to hear with his face pressed firmly against Ifrit's chest again. Mountain moves to stand, but Dew's hand shoots out, grabbing him by the wrist.

"No," he demands. His voice already slurring. Sleep, merciful, blessed, sleep finally tugging at him. Mountain sighs, but he listens, settling into Dew's other side, curling an arm around him. Ifrit looks at Mountain over the top of Dew's head and rolls his eyes. Mountain chuckles. "You rest, Firefly. We'll be here when you wake up."

[finallydelight]

im not sure if youre familiar enough with nct127 members but as a caratzen it would be so cute to see a markming chapter where mark officially introduces her to 127 members and they somewhat adopt her . maybe one where she even talks about it to her members when she gets back to the dorms adn cheol gets sulky because hes jealous about how much she talks about how sweet the members were to her

The Link | Ming Chapter

author's note: bold is english. there are mentions of weight loss and having anxiety. a shirtless yuta. if there is something else I forgot, pls tell me! also, im so sorry it took me this long to write! feedback, thoughts, opinions, etc. always welcome in my inbox! <3

October 22, 2022

''No kissing. No hugging. No touching!'' Cheol yelled out his demands, grabbing his stuff together and putting it in his bag. ''If any of them make you uncomfortable, I want you to tell me, okay?'' He stopped in his tracks and looked at her, one eyebrow raised. 

Ming diligently nodded, holding in the urge to roll her eyes at all the ''rules'' he was spitting out about her attending the NCT 127 concert. ''Don't you think you're being a bit over dramatic?'' She dared to ask the question. 

''No.'' He answered, matter-of-factly. 

Joshua and Minghao walked into the living room, all ready to leave for their last schedules of the day. ''You ready, hyung?'' They stood by the door, waiting for the rapper to join them. 

Cheol nodded at them, turning back around to give the youngest a goodbye hug. ''Be careful, okay?'' His remaining arm that wasn't holding his bag wrapped around her shoulders. ''Of course, now leave!'' Ming laughed, parting from the embrace. 

''Bye, Mingie!'' ''Have fun!'' ''Not too much fun!'' Her three roommates left the dorm and were on their way to the cars downstairs waiting for them. 

As soon as the door closed, Ming pulled out her phone, calling the person she needed most in that moment. 

''Hello?'' 

''Soomin! What do I wear?'' 

''Just wait here, I'll get him for you.'' The staff member told her, before disappearing behind the door and closing it. Ming anxiously waited behind the door, the mix of different emotions becoming almost overwhelming. 

It had been over two months since she had physically seen Mark. Their schedules and her hiatus prevented them from meeting somewhere in-between. She had missed seeing him, but it was a very last-minute decision to agree to his concert invite. 

First, Ming was still on hiatus and being spotted at a concert while her members were putting their blood, sweat and tears into their schedules, didn't seem like the best idea. However, Mark seemed to have thought about that as well and suggested she could watch the show from backstage. That way there weren't any lurking camera's or fans, and if she needed anything there were staff members there to help her. 

Second, it had been a long time since they last saw each other and that didn't exactly end in the best way. They hadn't talked about it afterwards and she doubted they would talk about it now. 

A lot of things had changed in the two months that had passed. Most importantly, she had gotten closer to someone else while Mark was busy with his own activities. Also, she had seen Yeonjun more than she had seen Mark, which caused her to be very confused about her own feelings.  

Mark and Yeonjun had vastly different personalities, while Mark was more on the shy and awkward side with her, Yeonjun was confident and direct about his feelings. 

The opening of the door in front of her interrupted her conflicting thoughts. ''Come in quickly!'' A hand wrapped around her pulse and she was pulled into the concert building.

Once the door was fully closed and locked behind them, she was finally able to take a good look at the man in front of her. Her eyes immediately went to his freshly dyed hair, something Mark noticed. ''You like it?'' His hand instinctively went through his hair. 

''It's, uh, definitely different.'' She awkwardly chuckled, quite surprised by his new hair. He laughed at her puzzled face, getting the hint she likes his darker hair better. 

Mark hesitantly opened his arms, not too sure if it was appropriate or not to hug her. Ming smiled at him, finding his nervous grin endearing. She walked into his embrace, her arms secured around his waist. 

A deep sigh left his mouth, as if he was relieved she was there in his arms. His head nestled in her neck as he mumbled the next words. ''Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it.'' His low voice sent chills down her spine. ''Of course, you called.'' She whispered back to him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

The hug didn't last very long, both very aware of the eyes of the crew members on them. ''How are you doing? I missed you, it's been so long.'' Mark asked her, guiding her through the hallways. 

Ming hadn't given much information about her hiatus to him. He knew that it involved her family and that she needed to stay in her hometown for a while. Mark had been relieved to know that everything was stable again back at home and that she had returned to Seoul about a week prior to the concert. 

He had asked her a lot about her well being and assured her he was always there for her if she needed a listening ear or literally anything else. She had politely declined each time, telling him she was doing alright and that it wasn't as bad as her members made it seem. 

He realized he had downplayed her wellbeing a lot as he saw her standing in front of him. Bags under her eyes, obvious weight loss, low energy and the sparkle he always saw in her eyes seemed to have dimmed. Overall, she didn't look like herself. She still looked beautiful in his eyes, but it was noticeable that she was having a hard time. 

''I'm good, how are you?'' 

Mark smiled. ''Now that you're here, I'm doing amazing.'' He wasn't going to mention her hiatus, he just wanted her to have a nice time. 

A blush appeared on her face. ''You're too cute.'' 

Ming's comment seemed to have the same effect on him as he had on her, because an equalling red tint appeared on Mark's cheeks.  

''Hey, uh, you don't have to, but would you maybe like to say hi to the members?'' He stuttered out the words, not confident if she wanted to go and greet his members. 

Ming felt her hands beginning to shake once the question left Mark's lips. It wasn't a secret to anyone she had trouble socializing with people, especially if those people were the best friends of the guy she had a crush on. 

''You really don't have to, they can be a lot at times, so I understand.'' 

''I would love to meet them, Minhyung.'' 

''Nice! They really wanted to meet you.'' 

The 127 members had been teasing him nonstop ever since their little mistranslation incident, especially Johnny, Haechan and Yuta. It's like they finally had something else to bug the young man about that wasn't about his farting. Mark was also curious to see how Yuta and Ming would get along, seeing as his hyung had been teasing him about the woman who ''has been taking you away from me''. 

Mark motioned for her to follow him, leading her to a door of which she could hear the inside voices from a mile away because of the loudness of the noises. "I told them to behave and to not act crazy, but most of the time they don't listen to me, so I'm just warning you." 

Ming didn't know how to properly answer that one, so she opted for a simple, nervous laugh. Mark gave her a soft smile before opening the door to the gates of hell. 

Upon Mark and Ming walking in, the room fell a bit more quiet than what she had heard outside. It wasn't a kind of silence that made her want to crawl in a hole, but still enough for her to feel uneasy about it. 

Jungwoo was the first one to break the slightly uncomfortable situation, getting up from his stylist's chair and greeting her. ''Hey, Yerim! Thank you for coming.'' He thanked her, padding her shoulder. 

''Thanks for the invite.'' She tried to sound excited, drowning out the nerves that were a result of the other members staring at her interaction with Jungwoo. 

''Mark, why don't you introduce her to everyone?'' Johnny asked his younger brother, his infamous smirk plastered across his face. Blood rushed to Mark's cheeks, but he took a hold of Ming's arm and brought her to his American friend. ''Yer, this is Johnny.'' 

Johnny's smirk turned into a comforting smile as Mark introduced her to him. ''Nice to finally meet you, Yerim.'' 

''Likewise.'' Ming politely returned with a small bow of her head. 

''Hyung is from Chicago!'' Mark told her, remembering she had a concert there for their tour. ''Oh, that's cool! We performed there this summer, the city was great.'' She beamed, having good memories of the tour stop. 

''Oh yeah, Mark told me you went there! He actually never shuts up about yo-'' ''Okay, let's move on!'' Mark interrupted Johnny, quickly pulling Ming to the next members in sight. 

''This is Taeil-hyung,'' the oldest member gave her a little wave which she reciprocated, ''and this our leader, Taeyong-hyung.'' 

''Thank you for coming to our concert, Ming-ssi.'' Taeyong reached out his hand for her, which she shook. His polite and gentle nature was a dead giveaway he was in charge of the group, he reminded her a bit of Cheol. 

Ming smiled at him. ''Thank you for having me.'' 

Mark was content so far, Johnny almost ruined it for him, but he's happy that the rest are actually behaving in front of her. He didn't think they would listen to him. 

He guided her further through the room. ''You've already met Doyoung-hyung and Haechan.'' The two members in question gave her an acknowledging nod, which she returned. 

''And here's Jaehyun-hyung.'' 

Ming didn't have the best impression of the man sitting in the stylist's chair. He had gotten her in trouble multiple times by snitching on her to Mingyu and she didn't really know what to say to him. 

The 97-liner bowed his head. ''Hello, how are you?'' He politely asked, looking at her through the mirror. ''I'm good and you?'' 

''Me too,'' he replied, ''hey, I just wanted to apologize if I did something wrong? Myungho texted me a few weeks ago and told me to stop gossiping to Mingyu about you. I didn't mean for you to get in trouble or anything.'' Now she felt bad for feeling apprehensive to talk to the guy, he was super sweet. 

''Oh no,'' she shook her head and hands, ''please, you don't have to apologize! It's not that serious, really.'' Ming assured him, not wanting him to feel bad about the 'snitching'. 

Jaehyun let out a relieved sigh, glad she didn't seem to be angry at him. ''Okay, great.'' 

''Guys, where's Yuta-hyung?'' 

The Japanese man wasn't present in the room, confusing Mark as he was still there before he went to get Ming. 

''YUTA! MARK's GIRLFRIEND IS HERE!'' 

Johnny was about to continue his teasing, but quickly got shut up by both Taeyong and Doyoung. Meanwhile, Mark and Ming were so flustered they looked like tomatoes. 

The man everyone was looking for walked into the room, completely shirtless. Mark immediately turned Ming around, not wanting her to see any of it. ''Hyung!'' 

''Oh, sorry!'' Yuta apologized, putting his stage blouse on as soon as he noticed the young woman next to Mark. Once he secured everything, he approached the two 99-liners. 

''So, Kim Yerim … we meet at last.'' 

The serious look on his face, his crossed arms and use of her full name, caused chills down her spine and not the good kind. 

''Yah! Yuta, be serious!'' Taeyong scolded the man, while the rest of the group tried to muffle their laughter. 

The serious look on Yuta's face immediately turned into a big smile. ''I was just kidding, it's nice to finally meet you.'' He gave her a hug, which took her by surprise. Ming hesitantly put her arms around him, still in shock from a few moments prior. ''Nice to meet you too.'' 

''Yerim, you want to sit down?'' Doyoung asked, being reminded of Seungkwan's texts asking him to make sure she sat down as much as possible. Before she could decline, Doyoung stood up and motioned for her to take his place. 

Ming thanked him and sat down on the couch, putting her purse on her lap. ''Yer, I'll be right back, I still have to change my clothes.'' Mark told her, crouching down before her. 

She wasn't too fond of the idea of being alone with people she only met so many minutes ago. ''Okay.'' Mark smiled and got up. 

She felt someone taking the space next to her, turning her head, she saw it was Doyoung, who was already fully ready for the concert. ''Hey, Yerim.'' 

''Hi''

''Soonyoungie said you went to the IU concert here in September, how was it?'' He asked her, striking up a conversation to make her feel more comfortable. 

Ming started realizing some of the members probably had sent some messages to the NCT members about her attending the concert, so this either could go good or bad. 

''Yeah, it was really good! I got to meet her as well after the show, it was so cool.'' She answered him, reminiscing about the IU concert. 

Doyoung nodded along to her words, attentively listening to what she had to say. The space on the other side of her dipped and as she turned to see who it was, she saw Jungwoo holding his phone in front of him. 

''She's here, Seungkwannie.'' 

Jungwoo held his phone in front of her and she was met with the one and only Boo Seungkwan who appeared on his phone screen. ''Ming Mingie! Did you arrive well?'' 

Ming could hear some of the staff and 127 members laughing at Seungkwan's words, she felt completely embarrassed. 

''Yeah, I'm here.'' Her voice came out small, not wanting to draw much attention to the interaction with her member. 

Seungkwan looked amused on the other side of the phone. ''Are they being nice to you?'' He continued asking, fully aware he was humiliating her. 

''Yes, they're really nice.'' 

''Am I embarrassing you?'' 

''Yes.'' 

Seungkwan, as well as the 127 members, laughed at her reaction. Ming couldn't even look at the screen anymore, too embarrassed by Seungkwan. 

''Ah, Yerim-ah! How is it there?'' Soonyoung appeared next to Seungkwan on the screen and Ming loudly sighed, much to everyone's amusement. 

''Don't you guys have schedules?'' Even if the members weren't physically there, they made sure there was a way for them to be with her in some kind of way. Ming absolutely loved her members to death, but all she wants is one evening without them. 

Seungkwan got the hint. ''I think she wants us to leave, hyung. Her brothers are embarrassing her in front of her boyfriend's friends.'' He couldn't help but throw in one last tease. 

''Bye Seungkwan! Bye Tiger!'' 

Jungwoo hung up the phone, doing his best to hold in his laughter. ''He suddenly called me, asking how you were doing.'' He explained to her, standing up and going back to his stylist's chair. 

''Hey, I'm back!'' Mark appeared in front of her again, wearing his white stage outfit. ''You, uh, want to go outside for a bit?'' It was obvious he wanted her alone for a moment, without any of his members staring or eavesdropping. ''Of course.'' 

''Behave yourself, Mark Lee!'' Johnny yelled out, right before Mark and Ming left the room. 

''They weren't too much, I hope? They kinda toned it down from what they usually do.'' He hadn't heard what they had said to her when he was changing his clothes. 

She shook her head. ''They were very sweet, Seungkwan-oppa called Jungwoo, so I was busy with that.'' Ming chuckled, sending a quick glance his way. 

He led her to a more secluded area, away from the crew, camera's and most importantly, teasing members. ''Aaah~ that's good.'' 

''But seriously, thank you so much for coming here, I really appreciate it.'' Ming became almost emotional with how sincere and grateful Mark sounded. Ming momentarily rubbed his arm. ''You really don't have to thank me, Minhyung.'' 

''No, I do! The last time we spoke, it was… well you know,'' he stuttered, remembering Chenle's teasing at the Dream Show, ''and I was kinda scared that maybe you didn't wanna hang out with me anymore, so when you said agreed to come- I don't know, it just made me very happy, Yer.'' With the way he was speaking, it almost sounded like a confession. 

Ming's cheeks colored red for the nth time that night. ''You're making me flustered, I don't know what to say.'' Her hands rubbed her cheeks, trying to cool them. 

Mark took a step closer to her, once he noticed no one was around. ''Hey, uh, I have to go in a few minutes, but, uh, I was wondering if I, uh, well, if you maybe- you don't have to if you don't want to, I know we haven't seen each other in a while and, uh-'' 

''Minhyung-ah,'' Ming interrupted him, ''calm down, it's just me.'' Mark was a stuttering mess and as much as Ming loved him in a flustered state, she didn't want him to be this nervous in front of her. 

He nodded, looking at the ground. ''In like one minute, they're gonna ask me to come down and I need a lot of luck tonight for the show, so if you don't mind would you be able to, uh, give me a good luck-'' ''Kim Yerim, is that really you?'' 

''Oh, for fuck's sake.'' Mark muttered as he was interrupted. 

Ming looked behind the frustrated man and saw Taeyeon and Minho approaching them. She quickly bowed as they were senior artists. ''Hello, sunbaenims!'' She greeted them. 

''They didn't tell me you were here! Oh, hi Mark.'' Taeyeon immediately went in for a hug, while briefly addressing the NCT member. 

Minho stuck out his fist for a fist pump and she reciprocated, nervously laughing while doing. ''Mark, they want to take a picture with the entire group, we came to find you.'' He explained their sudden appearance. 

While Minho and Mark were busy with each other, Taeyeon whispered in Ming's ear. ''I didn't know he was your boyfriend.'' A slight smirk attached to the sentence. 

Ming quickly shook her head. ''No, no, we're just friends.'' 

''Friends don't look at each other like that.''

Taglist: @mystic-luv @cosmicwintr @mythicalamphitrite @billboard-singer @stopeatread @still-astray @sakuurra @multiplums @giverosespls @seongwhaffels @kimhyejin3108 @smoooore

[cyeayt]

whats ur tim headcanons :)

oooh i have so many i can sort them into appearance, character arc, and sillies, a lot of these are lifted from fics i like fyi,,, ty so much for the ask, this is very rambly lol

i tend to think of Tim as Malay mostly because of Head in the Lion's Mouth and renwhit's other works with the stoker bros which rewrote my brain although in my mind he has short hair instead of long like he has in those series. i also have fallen to the fanon of him wearing colorful button ups but i don't really like him in aloha shirts just cause i think he has better taste than that, i also think he has his ears pierced and i am not immune to the idea that he wears a shark tooth necklace he got from Danny. I do also think that he had his hair shorter and dyed purple on the ends in season 1 that he then stopped taking care of in season 2 so it was washed out green and all messy by season 3, by which time i also think his fashion had deteriorated and to me he was at the unknowing in the rattiest hoodie imaginable and jeans he had been wearing for at least 4 days. he can have a graphic tee as a treat but he was def greasy.

in terms of his character i have a lot of stuff that i think are headcanons that are actually just canon (like that he knew something was up with sasha before not-sasha was revealed or that he felt comfortable in research before getting drawn back into the horror) because i have a really shitty memory but heres some stuff im pretty sure isn't plain stated in the text: he and Jon bonded in research and were very close before Jon became the archivist, and part of how they bonded was that they were both overworking themselves looking for their answers and also they're really good at breaking into places together. i am also a sucker for the idea that jon and him were involved or dancing around something but had to break it off when jon got promoted. speaking of hcs with high angst potential, i also think a lot about subtle rituals of intimacy between him and sasha and the small ways in which he would have noticed that there was something off with her. i also see him as being estranged from his parents/ them suspecting him of having something to do with Danny's death, which is not helped by the box of photos n such i think he keeps hidden in his closet/under his bed. in terms of his mentality Tim is really relatable to me i think he really struggles to be trusted in meaningful ways and that Jon suspecting him of murdering Gertrude brought back a lot of bad memories of police and his parents thinking he killed Danny. he gets stuck into patterns of though and mindsets esp when hes depressed and has trouble thinking of things in different terms in s3. also he did nothing wrong but thats neither here nor there

sillies! hcs that have little support but i think are funny, shipping stuff, and like whatever.

It's not really supported by canon unless you think he was playing 4d chess with Basira in s2 but in my mind Daisy and Basira were the ones investigating Danny's disappearance and they have a bad history. i like to put this one in my aus/ give him and daisy and basira a weird antagonistic relationship whenever i can because i think its funny when people are bitter with each other.

while i do agree that Tim would enjoy outdoorsy stuff like rockclimbing or kayaking, i don't think he's that good at it. i def see him as like the nerdier brother and think that he got into stuff that he and Danny did together, but it would be like Danny trying to convince him to go on the black diamond while Tim zigzags his way down a blue square. idk what the rock climbing equivalent of that is but i do know that tim cannot do bouldering.

i also see tim as being aro-spec like demi-romantic bisexual or somewhere in there idk im aflux aroflux its all soup to me but he and sasha are queerplatonic to me. also don't @ me i think he at the very least flirted with elias a few times either pre-archives for funzies or at some point in s2-3 when he stopped giving a shit.

hcs are so fun bc they're like little outfits you can put your character in like not every fic i write will have all of these and some of my more minute ones contradic each other but they're like ships to me anywayyy