#I THINK IVE SOMEWHAT MADE THIS BEFORE ACTUALLY

[deadfishisyeq]

Splatoon qsmp au. Send post.

#qsmp #i have No thoughts other than Combine Things I Like #I THINK IVE SOMEWHAT MADE THIS BEFORE ACTUALLY #i got like. main weapons and stuff half done and then didnt know whether to do a more daily life au or. #Qsmp But Its Also Splatoon #I DIDNT KNOW #I AGVE UP #i should try again :)

[the-s1lly-corner]

Dude, imagine something like: TADC x Mime! Reader. Reader usually stays quiet most of the time, but sometimes they suddenly talk startling everyone around them. At the same time, they are like, very expressive, using exaggerated gestures and facial expressions, and usually communicates solely through their miming skills. And if you wanna go extra crazy THEY COULD ALSO HAVE SOMETHING LIKE MR. MIME FROM POKEMON, where they like, do a mimic of a wall, and then a invisible wall appears out of nowhere or something like that

I hope you understood what i meant, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language 💖💖

TADC cast x mime!reader !

eueueu i totally understand what youre saying and i love the idea sm!! i love it when mime characters have mime physics, or when clown characters have clown physics!! love it so so so much!! sorry if this is a little short, ive been writing personal stuff all day and the back aches are starting to creep back in already </3

CAINE:

his jaw drops the first time you speak, he genuinely thought you were totally incapable of speech thanks to your whole theme going on... i think he would love your little mime tricks with the invisible walls and barriers and... did you just no clip through the floor while pretending to walk down some stairs...? where did you go?? where? was there another no clip glitch issue thing going on? he thought he fixed that...!

POMNI:

ah, a jester and her mime.... not the weirdest pairing... though granted pomni doesnt commit to the bit of being a jester and doesnt do tricks or jokes.. while you do commit... i think she would grow frustrated if you put a barrier up and made her slow down... calm down.. chill.. sure you understand the whole "finding the exit" thing going on with her, but rushing things probably wont help.... to time out she goes... probably gives you a side eye if she sees you just randomly walking on some invisible platform to just. leave in the middle of an IHA

JAX:

tries to coax you into using your powers for evil... i have a feeling jax doesnt like people who arent talkers... like being incapable of speak is one thing, i think at most is that he would make decisions for you (ie wrap an arm around your shoulder and be like "oh well me and (reader) were just thinking about......." yk? like in a joking way) but i dont think he likes quiet people... tries to coax you into speaking more... imagine you never spoke before in front of anyone and you finally reveal that you can talk, to jax, and he tries to tell everyone but no one believes him. psychological torment 101

RAGATHA:

i like to think she plays along with your mime antics, pretending to also be putting up invisible props and such... though her actions and movements are noticeably more sloppy and not as... fluid...? afterall, ragatha hasnt spent time practicing to be anywhere near your level! is a little surprised when she finds out your stuff is at least somewhat tangible within the digital world... thinks your emoting is cute..

KINGER:

so you know how he gets startled by gangle simply standing next to him? its like that with you, but he jumps when you randomly start talking next to him.. ponders... invisible safe square/cube/whatever... though i think part of the comfort of a pillow fort is that hes out of sight... but i think he would enjoy it at least a little if you created something like that for him

ZOOBLE:

enjoys that you dont talk much, zooble doesnt like chatty people i dont think... though they are willing to listen to you on days where you do feel like striking up a conversation... you actually get a laugh out of them when you banish jax to time out (aka putting up 4 see through walls around him for whatever length of time to atone for whatever crime he committed that day)

"he took my arm off.. give him an hour.."

GANGLE:

art kid meets art kid, you guys are both a little silly... okay sure your stuff is more performative, and while gangle does have a comedy and tragedy mask her thing is more so in drawing and painting imo, i love me artistic gangle... loves doing your makeup, if its not just a permanent part of your digital face, and can be customized... not much to be said here... theres comfortable silence between the two of you when you hang out since you dont talk often and gangle doesnt know what to talk about and may or may not fear ruining the dynamic between the two of you

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

[skzdarlings]

part v: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (chapter word count; 18k words)

warning for this chapter: the usual story dynamic plus explicit violence, threatening behaviour, mentions of homophobia, implied suicidal ideation, and explicit sexual content.

-

Jisung sighs with agonizing sorrow as he turns his baseball cap around.  He tugs the brim low then steeples his hands on the desk. 

“I see,” he says grimly.  “I understand.  You found paradise in Hyunjin.  You had a good friendship, it made a good romance.  So you didn’t need a friend like me.  Now you come to me and say, ‘Han Jisung, come bowling with me and my evil boyfriend.’  But you don’t ask with respect.  You come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married and you ask me to go bowling—”

“We’re in earth science right now,” Felix says, bemused. 

“He’s quoting a movie,” you say.

“Ah.”

“And for the last time, Hyunjin is not my boyfriend,” you say.  “We’re just… hanging out.” 

Your second ‘date’ with Hyunjin was once more a family affair as your father invited him and his parents to the mansion for lunch.  It was professionally catered because your father does nothing by halves, so at least the food was good.  You and Hyunjin were mostly silent in the company of your parents, but you were allowed to walk around the yard by yourselves after. 

He looked good because he always looks good, in a fuzzy purple sweater and name-brand jeans.   His charisma was dwindled to nothing, though.  He kept his fists curled up in the sleeves of his sweater and smiled a lot of forced smiles.  His parents’ presence clearly does a number on his mentality.  He did unwind somewhat when you were finally alone, but it was hard to shake the feeling of observation, their eyes stalking your every step like animals in a zoo. 

“Maybe we should just have sex on the ground here,” you said dryly.  “See if that satisfies them.”

He burst out laughing at that, an endearingly wheezy sound that made you giggle too.   

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head.  “When you make jokes like that I remember you and Han Jisung really are best friends.” 

“Guilty,” you said with a snort.  “Stupid jokes is what is friendship is all about.” 

He smiled at the subject of friendship.  His expression was full of so much warmth, very contrary to his polite but cold countenance during lunch when he only flirted appropriately. 

You like Hyunjin as a friend and you think he might feel the same way, hence the reservation on both your parts to truly commit to this farce of a relationship.  It feels wrong to use him to keep your father happy.  

You caught his eye this morning in the school corridor, sharing a smile as you crossed paths.  Even though a true relationship has not been defined, you told him you wanted to tell Jisung before you started hanging out at school. 

You made the mistake of saying this within earshot of Hyunjin’s parents.  His father unfortunately overheard you, enquiring as to the identity of this Jisung. 

“Just her little school friend,” your father said.  “Nobody important.” 

Jisung might be nobody important to your father but he is still your friend.   And unlike your father, who merits the value of life on business calculations, the first question Jisung asks is, “Does he make you happy?” 

Felix is scribbling in his notebook but lifts his head at that question.  You cannot look at him directly because you know it will shatter your very careful mask. 

“Hyunjin is actually really nice when you get to know him,” you say, because the best lie has a hint of truth in it.  “And I really do like spending time with him.  So… it would make me happy if you could be happy for me too.”   

Jisung scrutinizes you, then glances at Felix who has gone back to scribbling in his notebook.  Eventually Jisung smiles and spins his cap backwards. 

“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” Jisung says.  He turns very dark and serious when he says, “But that pretty rich boy is paying for my nachos.”

You catch up to Hyunjin in the hallway.  He laughs when you tell him Jisung’s stipulation. 

“I think I can afford it,” he jokes, then quirks an eyebrow.  “Jisung… He doesn’t know about your dad, does he?”   

“Only a bit,” you say, thinking back to the countless times you abstractly complained about your father to him.   “I mean, he knows he’s strict but he doesn’t know why.  I complain about some stuff but… I don’t really go into detail.”  Truth be told, you like that your friendship with Jisung is so far removed from your home life.  He has nothing to do with your father or your wealth or your abuse.  He likes you for you and that has always been the case. 

“What about Felix?”  Hyunjin asks.  He nods behind you because Felix is never too far away.  He is blending in as inconspicuously as he can, pretending to read notices on a bulletin board. 

“What about him?” you say, heat creeping up your neck.  You hope you appear casual.

“How close are you?”  Hyunjin asks, his casual tone coloured with a hint of suggestion, like he already knows the answer. 

You suppose anyone might assume Felix has a crush on you seeing as he is never far from your side.  There is little explanation that a civilian could glean other than Felix being clingy or lovesick.  No one would guess it is his job to trail after you. 

But the suggestion is difficult to rebuke because your true feelings get all twisted up inside you.  You and Felix do like each other – too much for your own goods.  Though there has not been a reprise of the other morning, in fact you have not mentioned it once, there is a new electricity in all of your touches.  That exchange did not satisfy or quell any desires, in fact it seemed to accomplish the opposite.  When you wake in the morning to him so close, your heart turns into a thunderstorm and it sends sparks flying through every inch of your body. 

You want him more than ever.  You also hope you never get him or you will never find the resolve to let go. 

“He’s just my—”  You cannot force the word friend.   “He’s just Felix,” you say.  “He drives me crazy, to be honest.”  That much is true.   

Hyunjin’s brow furrows.  He looks at Felix then turns your body so he is blocking you from sight.  He leans in close to speak. 

“He isn’t bothering you, is he?”  Hyunjin asks.  “Because if he is—”

A sharp laugh jumps out of you.  The offer of protection is unexpected and unintentionally amusing.  You have seen Felix in the midst of his training, his body a well-honed instrument that he knows and controls with utmost precision.  Hyunjin uses his body in a different way, playing to his strengths with his showmanship, but he would be no match in confrontation. 

Not that he knows it.  His offer is very sincere. 

You gaze at him, studying his kind but determined face.  You remember how Hyunjin was expelled from his old school for fighting with another boy, supposedly over a girl.  You read the report yourself and you recall how the other boy was badly pulverized.  It is hard to picture Hyunjin doing something like that, but you know how violence often lurks in unassuming places. 

“Thank you,” you say.  “But it’s fine.  Really.” 

You guide the conversation back to bowling and it distracts him well enough. 

At least you were allowed to plan this date.  Your father essentially ordered you to go on a solo date with Hyunjin, except you could not be truly alone because Felix had to be there.  When you questioned the logistics of that, your father said to work it out, that he would heed Felix’s discretion on the matter. 

Fortunately, even with things tense between you, Felix does take your opinion into consideration.  He agreed when you suggested a casual venue where you could hang out with Hyunjin and better acquaint him with your friends.  

You are still not sure how long this charade is meant to continue, but for now you try to enjoy having another friend. This turns into a daunting task.  Your social skills are lacklustre to say the least and attempting to befriend Hyunjin’s huge circle of friends proves perilously overwhelming.  Fortunately, Hyunjin doesn’t take offense when you bail early at lunch to sit with Jisung instead.  Hyunjin has a lot of friends but none with whom he is especially close. 

“Having a best friend isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” you joke, watching Jisung bowl by swinging the ball two-handedly between his legs.  You slouch in your seat as if embarrassed by him, shaking your head while Hyunjin laughs. 

“He’s funny,” Hyunjin says. 

“Then why do you antagonize him?” you ask, lightly but curiously.    

“Because it’s fun,” he says with a smirk, making you laugh and Felix chuckle.  “And easy.”

The three of you watch Jisung wail as his ball predictably rolls into the gutter. 

“Fair enough,” you say.  

You can tell Hyunjin has his guard up.  It does not make him unkind but he is less personable even while he is more charismatic.  You know that persona is in place to protect him, that Hyunjin wears happiness and charm the way you wear ire.  Although they are contrary dispositions, both keep people at bay. 

Jisung, being Jisung, manages to slip through the cracks of that guarded wall, much like he did you.  You got to know Jisung slowly then all at once, empty moments passing between you until one day you realized he had long passed the guarded gate. 

You are mulling this over when you spot him.   You are so surprised that you choke on your soda and sputter the liquid painfully out of your nose.  Your spontaneous violent hacking startles the boys, all of them jumping then fussing over you.  

You are still coughing when Lee Minho approaches.  

Hyunjin and Jisung do not see him at first, too pre-occupied with wiping your shirt and asking if you are okay.  It is Felix who spots Minho next, realization dawning on his face before his expression sours.  You have been seeking that reaction, looking for the vaguest hint of jealousy or at least acknowledgement.  Felix does not seem very intimidated by Hyunjin, even when he flirts with you or touches you.  He can probably tell your feelings are only friendly.  But you did like Lee Minho once and he knows that. 

Your heart skips beats when you and Felix look at each other.  He has not been holding your gaze lately, quick to look away when you catch him staring.  It sounds strange to say that you miss him when he is sleeping in your bed every night, but you ache with the loss of intimacy.  He is the first person you see in the morning and the last face you see at night, but he has never felt farther away.  Even your very first night together involved more genuine interaction. 

If he truly did not want you, it would be easier.  But when you do catch him staring, his eyes are intense, his gaze forever thoughtful.  When he is not minding his actions, he naturally leans towards you just as you do him, orbiting planets around the light of your stars.   

Jisung likes you as a friend, Hyunjin likes you as an ally, but Felix knows every part of you, the good and the bad, the normal and the crazy.   When he touches you, he touches all of you, and you feel like a whole person, full of more life and possibility than you ever thought you could be.  You told yourself not to rely on his touches and maybe you should have listened, maybe this withdrawal would not ache so terribly now, but you cannot bring yourself to fully regret it. 

What you want is to reach across this table and hold his face, to bring it close to yours.  Even if you don’t kiss, it would be enough to have him close, his breath on your lips and his freckled cheeks warm under your palms. 

You will take what you can get, basking in the devoted attention of his gaze as your former crush approaches the table. 

Minho comes up behind Hyunjin and smacks a hand onto his shoulder, startling him. 

“I could hear you from the parking lot, Hwang Hyunjin,” Minho teases.  “How many degrees was it again?” 

When the rival popular boys were both at school, their interactions were minimal despite their reputations.  Their few encounters were only jokingly hostile, one running gag revolving around Minho cooking Hyunjin in an air-fryer. 

“One-hundred-eighty degrees,” Hyunjin completes the joke.  He laughs with everyone else but he is blushing scarlet from the tips of his ears all down his neck. 

It is strange.  Hyunjin is a physical person, at least when performing.  This is the same guy who made out with his girlfriend in a classroom.  The same guy who got detention on his first day for skipping class to fool around with some girl.  And yet his shoulder dips as if Minho’s hand is too heavy to bear, as if he is overwhelmed by the touch. 

Hyunjin once remarked on your powers of observation.  It is especially easy to read someone when their behaviour is similar to your own.  Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.  The stilted proximity, the way they naturally lean towards each other, so heavily affected by the simplest touch on the shoulder. 

How they absolutely cannot bring themselves to meet eyes.  

Minho talks to your table, friendly enough, but it is obvious he has no idea who the rest of you are.  He only knows Hyunjin, and he addresses Hyunjin directly, but he does not look at Hyunjin for more than a few seconds, and they do not look at each other at the same time. 

Eventually, Minho squeezes the back of Hyunjin’s neck and Hyunjin curls up his fingers.  Minho smiles and says his goodbyes, casual, friendly, sparing one final glance at Hyunjin that Hyunjin does not return.   Hyunjin reaches for his glass and takes a drink while Minho leaves to join his own friends across the room. 

You wonder if Felix registered any of it, but he is still frowning at Minho’s retreating back.  You suppose he was watching you more than Hyunjin.  Jisung is taking a picture of his abysmal bowling score. 

You look at Hyunjin but he is smiling again.  He offers to pay for dinner, swiftly diverting the conversation in that direction.  Jisung goes with him to counter to order, leaving you and Felix alone. 

Felix has gone back to feigned indifference, sipping from his soda as he stares at nothing particular. 

“I need to be alone with Hyunjin for a bit,” you say.  That quickly snaps his attention to you.  “I just want to talk to him.” 

“Talk,” Felix says, lifting an eyebrow.  “Uhh, about what?”

“If it was your business, I wouldn’t need to be alone with him,” you say curtly.  You are being intentionally antagonistic with that one, but you get a little thrill when it succeeds in piquing his interest.  You suppose you have always resorted to bad behaviour for attention.  Encouraged by the heat darkening his gaze, you flutter your eyelashes and drawl, “My daddy would get mad if you got in the way of us, you know.” 

He laughs with disbelief.  Stubborn as ever, he looks away, popping an elbow on the table and digging his fist into his temple.   

“What?” you say with exaggerated innocence.  “Wouldn’t he, Felix?  Doesn’t he think I’m a bad girl who needs a good boy to fix her?” 

He looks at you, just a sideways glance out of the corner of his eye, but it gets you so hot that you momentarily forget your whole endeavour.  

He drops his arm with a thump, smiling at you with all that performative saccharine sweetness.  It is the smile he projects when he is convincing the world he is just sweet, innocent Lee Felix.  Beanie, flannel, ripped jeans, just another guy, cute and unassuming.

He stands and swiftly turns on the heel of his foot, slapping a hand down on the back of your seat so you instinctively lean back.  He follows you down, in your face when he speaks in that low, honeyed voice, “Hyunjin doesn’t have what it takes for that, sweetheart.”   

Then he is back in his seat, arms crossed and back to ignoring you. 

“I hate you,” is what naturally falls from your lips, no other word sufficing to summarize the sheer inundation of feelings.

The corner of his lips quirk up in a little grin.

He is the present bane of your existence, but Felix does oblige your request.  At the end of the evening, he purposefully leads Jisung away with some empty distraction, holding conversation while watching you over his shoulder.   He does not go far, but far enough to be out of ear-shot. 

Hyunjin is bent down, changing his shoes, and it takes you a minute to muster the nerve to speak. 

“Hyunjin,” you finally say, your voice coming out weaker than you intended. 

Your tone is usually sharp so the unexpected softness has him tensing before he even lifts his head.  When he does, it is with a dimpled smile, handsome and so polite. 

You scrub a hand over your face, shaking your head, trying to think of something to say.   You do not want to put him in an awkward spot, but you definitely do not want him walking into a worse situation because of ignorance. 

“You… you weren’t expelled for fighting… were you?” you finally ask.  “And you and Minho weren’t enemies.”  

His expression caves, a sharp breath parting his lips.  He stares at you for a long moment, flickering between a fake laugh, anger, fear, and finally resignation. 

“How did you…” he starts, then laughs without any humour, dry and airy as he pushes his hair back.  “You really are good at seeing people, huh.” 

“I stand by what I told you at that party,” you say.  “That I’m sorry you feel like you have to hide the best parts of yourself.  But as your friend, I need you to understand… my father is a very, very dangerous man.  He uses people.  All the things that make you who you are… he will just categorize them statistically and work out how to use those things against you to benefit him.” 

He covers his mouth and stares at the ground, looking contemplative.  After some time, he drops his hand, and speaks in an unsteady voice that makes him seem very young.  “I can handle it,” he says.  “My father…”  Another dry laugh.  “I had a… friend… at my whole school.  My father found us together.  He tried to get him leave me alone but… stupid kid… he didn’t listen.  So my dad hired this thug, I mean, I didn’t even know you could do that… He shook him up and we paid off the family and then he moved me here and he said… he said…”  His voice trails off and you don’t think he will find it again. 

“Image,” you say.  “Expectation.  Whatever.” 

He huffs a breath, rolls his eyes, laughs again. 

“Yes,” he says.  “I thought it would be easy.  He wasn’t asking me to change, just pretend.  I said… well, that’s not that bad, it could be worse.  It’s worse for other people.  I can pretend.  But it’s not easy and…”  He sucks in an unsteady breath, his face crinkling with emotion.  His voice is strained when he continues, “I don’t like lying, and just because I don’t like girls it doesn’t mean I like using them.  You were the final straw, I just…”  He rubs his temples and shakes his head.  “I just need to get through this year.  I can move out after school but… my dad won’t give me access to my savings until the end of the year and only if I can show him I’m… ‘better’.  So I… I need to get through this year.” 

“Hyunjin, I want to help you,” you say, “but you need to know what you’re getting into with me.  My father is more dangerous than just hiring a thug.  He is the thug, his whole operation is thugs.  He snaps his fingers and half the city is rearranging itself for him.” 

“You talk back to him a lot,” Hyunjin argues, a fact you cannot refute.  Though you are marginally better behaved in company, you are never truly docile. 

“Yeah,” you say with a helpless laugh, “but trust me, I’m messed up.”

“So am I,” he says.  “We can help each other.  Keep our dads off our backs for now then figure it all out.” 

Silence falls as you consider each other’s words.  You feel like no matter what choice you make, it will be the wrong one. 

“He works two jobs,” Hyunjin suddenly says, staring over your shoulder.  You don’t have to turn to know it is Minho, on the other side of the room, laughing with his friends.  “One is at a coffee shop.  On the weekends he teaches dance classes to kids.  His family isn’t well off but he is so casual about it that no one cares.  Things everyone else gets ashamed or embarrassed about just doesn’t seem to bother him.  I thought I hated him at first, because it all seemed so easy for him, and I was jealous because I thought I should be the lucky one.  Then one morning after a party I was hungover and bitching at him, and he just said tsk…”  Fondness creeps into his expression now, smoothing out the sadness that was there before.  “Then he made me some coffee and kissed me when I wasn’t expecting it.  I started working myself up about it and he called me idiot and did it again.”  He looks at you.  His voice is steady now.  “My dad would never make coffee for someone.  He doesn’t even know how.  He pays someone to do all that meaningless stuff for him.  Meaningless.  That’s all his life is.  He think it’s so important but it’s not.  But I know better.” 

He sits straighter and says with complete confidence, “My life will not be meaningless.  I just need to get through this year.” 

You know it is not so simple as that.  You do not see a light at the end of the tunnel the way he seems to do.  But he speaks with so much heartfelt conviction that you really do feel it for a moment. 

In the end, it is impossible not to take his hand. 

-

Felix is quiet on the car ride home.  You know despite the pretence, he is curious about you and Hyunjin.  His regard was a scrutinizing one, watching you hold hands until you said goodbye in the parking lot. 

But Felix is acting his role, an indifferent and professional bodyguard.  You take turns glancing at each other, occasionally catching eyes but looking away soon after. 

The house will be empty for the next couple weeks as your father is on a business trip overseas.  You strut confidently into the house with Felix on your heels.  You busy yourself with scrolling on your phone, pretending you do not hear his agitated sighs.  You plop yourself down on the couch and cross your legs.   

Felix stands in front of you, arms crossed.  You smile an excessively syrupy smile and bat your eyelashes.

“Yes?” you say.  “Can I help you?”   

“What are you doing with Hyunjin?” he asks. 

“You know what I’m doing with Hyunjin,” you say dryly, looking at your phone again.  “Just what my daddy said.”

“Okay but uhhh, you don’t like Hyunjin,” he says.  “And you definitely don’t like obeying ‘daddy’.”  He pitches up the word in a nasally whine to mock you, smiling when you glare. 

“Maybe I changed my mind,” you say.  Then you shrug like the whole thing is beneath you, like you could not care less about his reaction even while it is all you care about. 

You stand and knock shoulders when you brush past.  You make it a scarce foot before he grasps the back of your neck and guides you back to him, gentle and slow but ungiving in its demand.  Even when he lets go, you feel tingles where his fingertips so lightly pressed. 

You are standing close, almost cheek to cheek.  You can count each familiar freckle. 

“Are you free right now?” he asks, dropping his voice in such a suggestive way that you immediately feel flushed.  You nod without thinking too hard.  When you do, his face lights up with enthusiasm and he smiles, eyes oh-so adorably crinkled with mirth.  “Great!” he says.  “Put on exercise clothes and meet me in the gym for training.” 

He leaves the room in a brisk jog, waving over his shoulder.  You stand there for another moment, staring at the empty doorway and computing the whiplash of that whole ridiculous exchange.  

Never have you come so close to actually hating that abominable nightmare boy. 

You have clearly worked Felix into a mood, so you decide to be marginally complacent and do what he asks lest he hunt you down and force you to do push-ups in the bedroom.  We can work-out in the bedroom all right, you imagine yourself saying with a wink, knowing very well there is not a chance you would ever actually be able to say that.  Agitating him with a healthy dose of implication is different than outright stating it.  Though the look on his face would be funny. 

When you reach the gym, he is in sweatpants and a t-shirt just like you.  He is stretching in front of the mirror wall.  He smiles that sardonic smile through the reflection, beckoning you to join him.  You make sure to stomp as petulantly as possible, crossing your arms like a stubborn child when you reach the mirror. 

“You need to warm-up first,” he says.  “Do you know how to stretch?”

“Yes, I know how to stretch,” you say venomously, a useless lie since he has witnessed your pitiful demonstrations of athleticism in gym class.  He doesn’t comment, though, just lifts his eyebrows and says, “okaaaay,” before moving on. 

You copy a few of his stretches, though he makes his movements look easier than they are.  Then he makes you run a few laps around the room, simply smiling when you scowl at him.  You are pretty sure that part was just a petty punishment. 

Finally he sets up some mats and starts explaining basic tactical defense positions.  He clearly knows what he is talking about and the familiarity of the subject seems to ground him in his body.  It draws you into a similar state of relaxation and soon you find yourself actually listening to his instructions.  

You mirror a few of his positions, focussing on holding yourself steady, on finding your centre of gravity.   

“You won’t beat most people with brute strength,” Felix says.  “I mean, uhhh, ha-ha, I’m not exactly the biggest guy in the world, myself, you know?  It isn’t about that, though.  Look, feel your core strength…” 

You lose yourself in your concentration, watching your own motions in the mirror as he steps around you.  Your attention only fractures when he lays a hand on your shoulder.  He is just fixing your posture but your body does not seem to care that the action is casual.   You curse your own sensitivity and tell yourself to get over it, especially when he starts demonstrating more bodily manoeuvres, requiring you to put your hands on his arms or hands or shoulders. 

He acts unbothered the whole time, making you feel even more ridiculous.  Then he explains something while wrapping an arm around your neck from behind.  You step closer instinctively and your eyes widen when your backside collides with his front and you realize he is not as indifferent as he is acting.  It is only the vaguest stirring of interest, but his sweatpants do little for modesty. 

He nudges you away and clears his throat, continuing his lesson but with a little stutter.  You feel flustered and embarrassed too, somehow simultaneously craving this sort of evidence and also balking at it.  You actually masturbated in front of each other but for some reason it is more embarrassing when he catches you looking at the subtle imprint in his sweats.   He clears his throat again but continues the lesson like nothing happened.   When he steps up behind you again, you are both careful to keep your distance, his arm only hovering around you. 

“So the best thing in a situation like this—” he starts. 

“I know what to do,” you say, the tension so unbearable that if you do not shatter it, it will break you instead.  You abruptly swing your arm back, elbowing him in the gut.  You catch him by surprise and he stumbles back with an oof, holding his stomach and glaring with playful intensity. 

“Very funny,” he says and steps closer again. 

“This works too,” you say, giggling then stomping on his foot.  It isn’t very hard but it is unexpected so he curses, taking a playful swipe at you when you skip away. 

“Mature,” he says sarcastically, but with a genuine smile.  You stick your tongue out at him and he reaches again, laughing when you dance out of arm’s reach. 

He chases after you and you yelp when he catches up, his retaliation a truly heinous, punitive tickle attack.  You squeal and laugh in his arms, squirming to get away and apologizing through your shrieks.  He just laughs, continuing his evil barrage of tickles.   You get tangled together in your flailing, stumbling around and eventually landing in a giggling heap in front of the mirror. 

Finally he stops, just as winded from laughter.  You are sitting between his legs, slouched against his chest, facing the mirror as you pant and wind down from your giggles. 

You look at each other through the reflection, the longest you have held each other’s gaze in a while.  It feels different, less direct, but also more complete.  You see yourself as well as him, sitting in a fairly intimate position and looking for all the world like a normal young couple, glowing with carefree happiness. 

You take a few steadying breaths.  He does as well.  The rush of your game settles.  In the absence of laughter, the room is quiet.  The whole house is quiet, a big empty space with the two of you alone in one small room, securely tucked away in your privacy, looking at each other through a mirror. 

He swallows. 

Your heart is racing and not from any playful exertion.  He has a hand on your elbow and the other on your knee, but he is holding very still, as if a move in any direction will be catastrophic.  He is probably right to think that. 

You touch his hand anyway, holding his gaze in the mirror while you slide his hand from your knee to your thigh.  His brow pinches, expression contorted as if in pain, though the hardening press of him against your backside tells you it is not pain. 

He says your name.  Then he sighs, closes his eyes, and rests his temple against your head. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, drawing out all the softness of heart in his low drawl.  You whimper, from that or his touch, his hand high on your thigh.  Even through your clothes, his touch burns, waking nerves where it roams. 

“Please,” you say, watching his face through his mirror.  Finally he meets your gaze there, dark eyes on your face as he lets you guide his hand between your legs.   

One deft stroke through your clothes has you making a sound like a sob.  It pulls him over the brink of his hesitation, leaving it all behind as he cups you with a possessive sort of determination.  His touch is clumsy and desperate but you don’t care, because it’s him. 

It all seems to happen so fast and not fast enough, two pairs of nervous hands pushing and pulling.  He tugs your knee over his, spreading your legs wide, and slides his hand into your sweats while you buck back against him.  Your eagerness overwhelms you so he shushes gently in your ear, his free hand splayed across your collarbone.  His forehead is pressed into the side of your head and he looks at you sideways through the mirror.  You nod, holding his gaze as he touches you properly. 

It is a fumbling, hungry touch, the hunger of someone who thinks he might never eat again after all this plenty.   He might be right.  He might be wrong.  It doesn’t matter right now.  You give yourselves over to the experience, as raw and inelegant as all that earnest passion is. 

Your breathing is loud enough to fill the whole room, the whole house, broken sighs and guttural moans louder than the yelling that usually fills this place.  His touch is only surface, not daring to go so far as putting his fingers inside you, even while rubbing his fingers through all that wet desire.  Your knee is hooked over his, keeping you helplessly open under his touch when you come.  He looks at you with an incredulous sort of amazement, then his eyes close and his low moan turns to a broken whimper as tumbles over the edge too. 

You are both breathing hard in the aftermath, eyes closed, heads touching.  You slowly bring your leg back and he slowly withdraws his hand.  You look into the mirror when you take his hand, when you put it back between your legs over your clothes and hold it there.  He says your name and curses. 

It is the last thing he says for a while.  You are both quiet.  It is only later that night when the silence breaks, when he gets into bed after checking the security system.  You look at each other across the space of that bed and mutely come to an accord, his arm outstretched in offering as you move into his embrace.  He holds you against his chest, his heart beating under your ear. 

“Do you hate me,” he asks, like he already knows the answer. 

You sniffle.  You nod. 

“Okay,” he says, and strokes your back until you fall asleep.

-

Your final year of school passes in a blur of afternoons with Jisung, fake dates with Hyunjin, and long, unsatisfied nights where you and Felix hold each other with the knowledge of everything between you – and do nothing about it.  He keeps his head down, trains, and dutifully reports to your father.  At least your father is more agreeable these days because of your supposed relationship with Hyunjin.  He thinks it is changing you for the better when really you are just being careful for Hyunjin’s sake. 

The end of the year rolls around and soon you are down to the last few days of classes.  You and Hyunjin are due for a conversation about what happens next.   You whisper this to him in class, sitting close as you are sharing a lab desk for two.  He is bent down scribbling in your yearbook, his pen scratching when he freezes.   He looks up at you and nods.

“Yo, are you lovebirds done?” Jisung asks, spinning around from the desk he is sharing with Felix.  He points a ruler at Hyunjin.  “You better have left the last page blank like I said, man.  I have things to say to my girl.”   

“I did, I did,” Hyunjin says with playful exasperation, handing Jisung your yearbook so he can sign it too.  Jisung takes it with a snap, clapping the ruler on the desk before turning back to his own seat to write his message.  You and Hyunjin look at each other, helpless but to laugh at his shenanigans.   

You catch Felix’s eye.  He knows your relationship is fake, though he doesn’t know why.  He probably figures you are just trying to keep your father off your case.  Even if you trust Felix, it is not your place to tell Hyunjin’s story, guarding it so long as he asks. 

It does mean Felix looks at you with the occasional battered-puppy eyes. 

“Come on, Felix,” Hyunjin says with his big, dimpled smile, “let me write in yours too.” 

The yearbooks were handed out this morning so everyone is running around getting their friends to sign farewell messages.  You have already signed more yearbooks than you ever imagined you would, Hyunjin’s friends considering you an acquaintance if nothing else.  Signing for them was easy at least, lots of have a great summer and good luck with your future.  

It is much harder coming up with something for genuine friends.  While Hyunjin writes in Felix’s yearbook, you stare down at Hyunjin’s, trying to think of what to say to your fake boyfriend and real friend. 

I hope you get everything you want and more, you finally write.   I’m glad I got to know you.  LUV U BOYFRIEND!!!!

He laughs at the last part when you show him.   “I wrote the same thing in yours, loving girlfriend,” he says. 

You laugh too.  You crumple up some paper to chuck at Jisung who is still scribbling in your yearbook. 

“What, are you writing a novel?” you ask.  “Hurry up!” 

“Patience!” Jisung says.  “You can’t rush a masterpiece!” 

You, Hyunjin, and Felix all laugh.  Once more, you and Felix look at each other a little longer.  You did not bother to write in his yearbook as no words could suffice to summarize anything. 

He jokingly wrote Have a Great Summer : ) in yours. 

Jisung finally finishes his apparent epic, smacking your yearbook onto your desk.  You reach for it but he holds it shut, giving you a very serious look. 

“You can’t read my message now, okay?” he says.  “Read it at home.  Alone.  With violins in the background.”

You snort and roll your eyes but smile fondly at him. 

“Okay, Jisung,” you say, “I promise to cherish it and read your masterpiece properly.”          

“That’s all I ask,” Jisung says with a salute. 

After school, Felix waits while you and Hyunjin have a quick word. 

“Can you come to my house?”  Hyunjin asks.  “I want to talk properly.  Not here.”

You know your father will agree but you need his permission as you cannot visit without an escort.  Hyunjin knows you always have a bodyguard not too far from sight; he just does not know that Felix is one of them.   Your father sends his own men on your excursions together. 

Felix is never too happy when separated.  He is cordial enough with your father’s security team but it is obvious that Felix thinks he is more skilled than them, often commenting on their weaknesses or blunders.  You do not see things with his professional precision but you take his word for it.  It is easy to believe Felix is the best.  After all, it takes a whole team of people to replace him. 

As predicted, your father agrees to let you visit Hyunjin for the evening.  The Hwang mansion is nowhere near as big an estate nor are their security measures even close to your impenetrable, bulletproof, gilded prison, but it is still a secure location where you can be supervised.  You go with a few of your father’s men, sharing a dry look with Hyunjin when you arrive at his house.  He just smiles, used to it. 

You have dinner with his him and his parents, smiling all the while, playing the part you have played all year.  Your father’s men surround the house and you pass them in the backyard, making your way to Hyunjin’s old tree-house for some privacy.  It leaves you within sight of your father’s men but well out of ear-shot.   

You plop down on the little wooden balcony, sighing as you stare into the distance.  The sun is setting over the neighbourhood, an orange sky dappled with rosy pinks, sparkling as it catches glass panes and ostentatious embellishments.  The creaky old tree-house has a cozier feel, a world separated from the nonsense below.   

“Thank you,” Hyunjin says after a moment of shared silence, just watching the sunset.  You look at each other and he smiles.  “Having a real friend who knows me made a difference this year.” 

The forthright sincerity is a bit much for you, seeing as you are not so good at communicating so plainly.  You think you are improving, though.  The old you would have drawn back, but you are able to smile at Hyunjin in return. 

“I hope it helped,” you say. 

“It did.”  He moves a little closer just to be safe.  “My father gave me control of my savings.  My grandmother left me an inheritance and I needed the money.”  His smile brightens his whole face in the rosy light.  “I bought a house.”

“A house?” your voice breaks as you try contain your surprise in a whisper.

He laughs at your reaction, still smiling. 

“Yes,” he says.  “Well, it’s more like a cabin.  It’s not much to look at.  I needed it to be off the record, all in cash, and far away from here.”   

You find the image of a small, homey cabin to be devastatingly beautiful.  It could be the most dilapidated, ramshackle mess of a construction and you would still consider it perfect.  You imagine sitting on a tiny porch with Felix, him smiling a big smile that crinkles his eyes and shows his teeth, his face sunny and golden and truly carefree, not just pretending. 

You look at Hyunjin and see him staring into space with the same smile.  You picture him with all the tension gone from his shoulders, laughing his wheezy laugh instead of forcing polite smiles.  You swallow a lump in your throat. 

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you say, holding his hand.  “That’s really wonderful.” 

It brings him back to you.  Some of the dreaminess leaves his expression but he is definitely still happy.  He squeezes your hand back. 

“I can’t go yet,” he says.  “My parents would just… They’d find me.  I’m their only son.  It would be an embarrassment to them if I just left.  When I think about what my father did to my friend just to teach me a small lesson…”  You squeeze his hand in sympathy.  You both know his parents did not have that boy beaten to keep him away, but to teach Hyunjin a lesson.

Hyunjin takes a deep breath and says, “They won’t let me walk away easily.  I have to do it right if I’m gonna be free.”

“How are you going to do that?” you ask, curious for his sake and even your own.  The image of a far away cabin, untouched by trouble, is quickly nestling itself in some hidden cockle of your heart.  You know that it will be difficult for him to leave but it would be next to impossible for you, so there is no sense in dreaming.

And yet…  If Hyunjin can find a way, it makes you think that maybe certain dreams are not so impossible. 

But he just sighs and looks away. 

“I don’t know yet,” he says.  “But I’m going to find a way.”  He lets go of your hand to reach into his pocket, pulling out a small slip of paper.  He passes it to you and you unfold it.  You brow furrows as you read.    

“Is this—”

“The city and address to the cabin,” he says. 

“Why are you giving this to me?” you ask in a small voice.  Not for the first time, you curse your inconstant feelings, the quick rise to emotional heights in the matter of seconds. 

This is Hyunjin’s future written in a single line on a single piece of paper, such a seemingly simple thing and yet it has the power to completely destroy him.  This is his means of his escape, his only avenue of liberty, and he is showing you despite your proximity to some truly wretched forces.   He trusts you more than he fears them. 

“It’s an easy address to remember,” he says.  “I know things are hard for you.  I don’t know what will happen to you.  I don’t even know what will happen to me.  But I know it’s harder when you’re alone.  I know having people make a difference because they made a difference for me.  If you ever get out, if you ever need somewhere to start…” 

You cannot think of what to say.  No words seem sufficient in reply.  You can only nod and take a deep breath.  You look up into the fading light and blink away your tears. 

“Thank you,” you say.  “I hope if we meet again, things will be different.” 

The address has a sweet rhyming lilt to it, easy to remember like he said.  You read it over a few times, commit it to memory, then tear up the slip of paper beyond any salvaging. 

You sit in the tree-house until the sun fully sets.  Little lanterns flicker to life one-by-one in the darkening yard below.  When the sky is a blue wash and the path below is twinkling gold, you sigh. 

“I don’t want to go back,” you say miserably.  You don’t want to see your father or that house.  Even Felix will stir nothing but anguish right now, as you think about how you are trapped and he is shackled to you.  You also don’t really want to linger here.  Your uncontrollable emotional pendulum has swung back from its precipice.  A few minutes ago, you were close to crying, and now you feel so empty and resigned that you think you will never cry again.   I’m so broken, you think helplessly.  You want someone to tell you otherwise but you don’t know how to ask. 

Hyunjin leans back, peering into the yard.  Your father’s men are getting a little complacent in their boredom, one of them yawning where he is slouched in a deck chair.   They are not really paying attention to you.  They figure there is no where for you to go, the main steps from the tree-house leading right into their path. 

Hyunjin puts a finger to his lips.  You follow him quietly across the tree-house, obscured in enough darkness that none of the security team notices.  He leads you to a dangling rope ladder, hidden on the opposite side of the tree.  He points across the yard to a little garden around a koi pond. 

“There’s a gate just past the pond,” he whispers.  “There’s a path that leads through the neighbourhood.  I’ll stay up here until they say something, then I’ll tell them you went home.”  He smiles and puts a hand on your shoulder.  “You probably should go home,” he says, “but at least this way you’ll have a bit of time alone first.” 

You smile back at him, patting the hand on your shoulder. 

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” you say. 

“See you around,” he says, then pushes back his hair and smoulders at you.  “And don’t take the break-up too hard. I know I’m handsome but there will be other men.”     

You laugh and roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder. 

“Oh, please, I broke up with you,” you say.  “I couldn’t keep up with your vigorous beauty routine.” 

“This face is natural,” he says, laughing too.  Then he nudges you and looks more serious.  “Go now.  They’re not paying attention.” 

You briefly weigh your odds.  You have not snuck out in a very long time so the punishment might be proportionate to your otherwise good behaviour.  Felix is not here so he will not be blamed for your escape.  And you will not be avoiding a reprimand no matter what you do, because your father is going to be angry that you and Hyunjin broke-up – especially without consulting him first.  If you are going to be punished anyway, you might as well take a walk and clear your head first. 

You grab Hyunjin’s hand one last time, giving it a squeeze as you smile.  Then you climb down the rope ladder and hurry across the garden.  You are out the gate and on the path before you know it. 

The wealthy neighbourhood is quiet and brightly lit, every yard illuminated despite the quietude of the street.  They are all so pristinely manicured, different yet identical magazine-ready mansions.  They look a bit eerie with the darkness around them, like some alien recreation of what a home should look like.  It makes you dread the return to your own house.  You wonder how much time you have to yourself, if the car is going to pull up alongside you any second now to drag you home. 

It is then you remember you do have one more place you can go.  Ridiculously, stupidly, your emotions come back in full swing and you feel like crying again.  Maybe it is because you have not snuck out in so long, so it is reminding you of the very first time you ever did.  You went to the very place you are going now: Jisung’s house.

You always met there before darting off to a party together.  Those parties never amounted to much.  You and Jisung always talked a big game then spent most of the time in a corner or on a roof, but it was the only time you were ever away from the prying eyes of your father’s overprotective security.   You passed many nights that way, complaining to your best friend, talking about nothing, then rushing home before your absence was noticed.   

You remember the route to his side of town, catching a bus and getting off at a familiar stop.  This neighbourhood looks very different than Hyunjin’s, a range of houses both new and old, rundown and fixed-up.  They don’t waste energy lighting their yards unless they have guests.  All the light is from the streetlamps and the little yellow squares of homey light beaming through their windows. 

You have never actually been inside Jisung’s house.  You would usually just meet him in the yard before continuing on.  This is the first time you walk up the porch steps and ring the doorbell. 

You start to shiver.  The adrenaline or your escape kept you warm but now you can feel the chill of the evening. 

You are looking around the block and shivering when the door opens.  You turn and see an older woman with a scowl on her face.  Even if you did not know Jisung lived with his single mother, you would recognize her because of her round cheeks and big eyes, much like him.  Except where his face is usually open and friendly, she looks at you like a bug she wants to squish. 

“What?” she asks. 

“Um, sorry to bother you,” you say, somehow more intimidated by her than your father’s burly security team.  “I’m friends with Jisung.  I was just wondering if he’s home…?” 

She takes a step back and screams his name into the house.  You stand awkwardly in the doorway, waiting while thumps and bangs come from the upper level, then Jisung is hurrying down the stairs and skittering into view.  You so seldom see him without a hat that it is momentarily jarring, his flop of dark hair going everywhere as he comes to a wide-eyed stop. 

He gets over his surprise and smiles wide, saying your name with an upward what-the-fuck inflection. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, stepping aside to let his mother pass.  She says nothing more to you, disappearing into a side room. 

“I, um, I don’t know,” you say, your emotions in turmoil again.  You think about what Hyunjin said, about how having a friend made all the difference for him, and you suddenly realize how much you missed spending time with Jisung, how he was your first and only escape for so long.  Tears are falling before you can stop them, a mess of everything with Hyunjin and Felix and your father, but you can only stammer a vague excuse, that you broke up with Hyunjin and wanted to talk to someone. 

Jisung’s face is twisted up with surprise and sympathy.  He says your name a few times and apologizes, guiding you into the house.   

“Come on, let’s go upstairs,” he says, taking your hand and leading you up to his bedroom. 

“Won’t your mom mind?” For some reason, despite the mania of emotion inside you, that is what you fixate on. 

Jisung just laughs dryly, shaking his head as he closes the bedroom door behind you.  “Trust me,” he says. “She won’t care.  Sit down.” 

Jisung’s bedroom is undeniably him, music posters overlapping on the wall, stacks of journals on his desk and bedside table.  It is a sprawling canvas of music and writing, not to mention litters of clothes and baseball caps.  He pushes a pile of clothes off his bed so you can both sit, shoulder-to-shoulder.  His bed is against the wall, under the window, cool stars twinkling down at you while his bedside lamp fills the room with warmth. 

Your sobbing has slowed to a heaving stutter.  Jisung hands you some tissues to wipe your eyes. 

“I’m gonna kill that evil pretty boy,” Jisung says.

You hiccup and shake your head.  “It was me,” you say.  “Hyunjin is my friend, he’s a good guy, I just—” You start crying all over again, tearing the soggy tissues to shreds.  Jisung leans over to fetch some more, his face scrunched up with concern while he watches you dab your sore eyes.  “I’m just so messed up, Jisung,” you say.  “You have no idea how much.  I don’t even think I could properly love someone if I tried.  I just make a mess wherever I go.”

“What! Yo!  No.  Why are you saying these things?”  He looks equal parts bewildered and horrified, quickly wrapping an arm around you.  You let your head fall on his shoulder, still wiping your eyes while he rubs your arm.  “You are not messed up.  You’re my best friend and you’re awesome.  How could you have a best friend if you can’t properly love someone, huh?” 

“I’m a bad friend though,” you say.  “I bail on you all the time and I’m crazy and emotional and—”

“And you have an evil dad who locks you in the house, remember?”  Jisung says.  “Look, I know it’s not my business, I’d never make you say it, but from what you’ve told me… Dude, that guy fucking sucks.” 

You cannot help but laugh at that.  Jisung smiles, tweaking your nose. 

“I’ve never been mad about that stuff,” he says gently.  “Not at you.  At your dick dad, sure.  But that has nothing to do with you.” 

“I’m emotional like him,” you say, tears slowing to a lip wobble.  “I fight him all the time but maybe that just proves it. All that anger inside me.” 

“Anger isn’t bad,” Jisung says.  “It’s a feeling just like anything else.  Some people do bad shit while smiling the whole time.  Remember that guy who bullied Felix that time at school, and how you hit him with that book?  Or other times you just snapped back at some stupid dick?  That wasn’t bad!”

You don’t have an argument in you.  You just exhale, dabbing under your eyes with the crumpled tissue.  Jisung continues to rub your arm.

Your eyes drift and land on one of his baseball caps.  It is perched on a stack of schoolbooks.  You think back through the years, all those school days, all those stolen parties and late nights.  It was a slow beginning, then one day you realized he was your friend, your first ever friend, that he was making you laugh and you had inside jokes and you wanted to spend more time with him.  You weren’t afraid to be around him and you knew he wouldn’t make fun of you or push you or judge you. 

You feel his arm around your shoulder now and realize you are not afraid of it.  You can no longer remember the first time you hugged Jisung, probably because it wasn’t a kiss or anything romantic and so you did not really register it.  It was a moment that arrived silently, without any heart palpitations or fanfare, no sweaty palms or hot cheeks.  He would have just put his arm around you like he is doing now, asking for nothing in return for it. 

You realize he must have been the first person to hug you.   Your mother passed away when you were in infancy and the only family you ever knew was your father and his now-late father.  They did not hug each other and they did not hug you.   The only kind of love you knew was a violent, controlling one, and it made you into a distrustful, feral little child in return. 

You have reflected before how it took a long time to warm to Felix.  Bit by bit.  Touch by touch.   It would have taken longer if you had never known Jisung.  He drew you out of your shell before anyone else did. You were able to reach for Felix because Jisung reached for you.  You were able to befriend Hyunjin because Jisung befriended you. 

You find yourself choking back a different sob, one conjured by the realization of just how much Jisung has done by being there.  You understand what Hyunjin meant, about a friend making all the difference. 

Before you can say anything, Jisung gently asks, “It’s bad, isn’t it?” 

You sit straight to look at him, brow furrowed.   

“Your dad,” he says.  “Things are… they’re bad, aren’t they?  Worse than just not letting you hang out?” 

Tears spill over again.  You realize he is sniffling now too but holding back tears.  He reaches across to wipe your face with his bare hands, swiping at your tears.   

“I knew for a while,” Jisung says in a strained voice.  “I could see the bruises.  I didn’t know what to do.  And I felt like I was letting you down because—” 

He chokes on his breath.  It gives you a moment to interject.

“You have nothing to feel bad about,” you say. You wipe his tears too, laughing at your equal dramatics.  “Seriously, Jisungie.” 

“No, you don’t understand,” he says, grabbing your hands and pulling them off his face.  He shakes his head like he is trying to shake his tears out of him.  It seems to work.  After another breath, he manages to speak clearly.   “Do you remember our first conversation?  At school?”

“About the weather?” you say, thinking back to the first time Jisung started a conversation. 

“No, before that,” he says.  “We sat beside each other for months but we never spoke.  Then I missed a week of school because I made myself sick, all my stupid anxiety and whatever.  My mom, you know, she tries but she… It’s just easier for her to ignore me most of the time, I think.   I know she didn’t want kids.  So I was taking care of myself.  And I missed school sometimes because of it, but no one ever noticed when I was gone.  It’s like I was invisible everywhere I went.  And I got so sick that week that I just wanted to die.  But then I went back to school and I got my homework from the teachers and then you—”  He slaps his hands in his lap and looks at you, smiling a teary-eyed smile.  “You were the first person to ask where I was and if I was all right.  And you made a face like you didn’t believe me when I said I was.  Then I started talking about the weather.” 

“Oh,” you say, shredding the tissue in your lap for something to look at, trying to keep your tears at bay.  “I didn’t remember that part.” 

“You’re really good at seeing people,” Jisung says.  “Even when they’re trying to hide or pull away.  I don’t know how you think you can’t love when you’re like that.  You know how to do it better than the rest of us who forget to even look.”  He takes your hand again, drawing your eyes up to his.  “But I’m looking back now, okay?  And I’m gonna save you.” 

It is so frank and sincere that it makes you laugh. 

“I am!” he says, laughing through his own watery voice.  “Don’t laugh at me!  You saved me and now I’m gonna save you too.”

“It’s not that easy, Jisung,” you say.  “You have no idea how crazy everything in my life is—”

“It is that easy,” he says.  “You’ll see.  I promise.  And a best friend promise is a forever promise, okay?” 

You cannot bring yourself to argue.  You just nod, your bottom lip wobbling again. 

“Okay,” Jisung says.  “Now come hug me so you can’t see me when I start crying like a baby.” 

You laugh but fall into his arms nonetheless.  You sit under that window for a long time.  At least, it feels like a long time.  You don’t look at the clock and you don’t count the minutes.  It is not the kind of hug that is leading to anything because he doesn’t want to kiss you and he has no other motivation.  He just hugs you until you are both calm, when your tears feel silly and dramatic and your eyes are sore but you feel strangely refreshed. 

“I need to go,” you say, to which he whines in complaint.  You laugh.  “Saving me will have to wait for another day.  For now, if I don’t get home…” 

As if summoned by that very thought, your phone erupts with buzzes and rings.  You sigh and fish it out of the pocket of your shorts, watching messages from your father, his security, and Felix come flooding in.  The others are making commands and demanding your whereabouts.  Felix asks, Are you okay?  Then, I have to turn on your GPS.  They’re gonna come get you wherever you are. 

You answer Felix, telling him you’re fine, that you’re with Jisung.  He sends an emoji that manages to look very unimpressed, then just says, that’s what the boss gets for sending amateurs. 

Your father’s men are far from amateurs but it is still funny when Felix insults them. 

You turn your phone to silent after that, not bothering to answer the others.  They will find you in no time with Felix’s help. 

“I better go,” you say.  “My dad is sending someone to pick me up.  I’ll be fine tonight, I promise.  But I’m gonna start walking because I don’t want you mixed up in any of this when they get here.” 

Jisung tries to argue but lets you go when he sees how serious you are.  He insists you take a hoodie for warmth so you do.  You give him one last wave before you begin the trek down the block, hoping to get far away before your father’s men find you. 

You have made it two blocks over when a sleek black car approaches.  You start to walk towards it because there is no other reason for a car that nice to be slowing down on a street like this.  Only when it gets closer do you realize you the make and model of the car is not one that your father usually uses, and you do not recognize the driver. 

Your heart kicks up with a startled, frantic flutter as the car comes to a slow stop not far from you.  You swerve, crossing to the other side of the street to avoid it.  You try to act nonchalant, reassuring yourself that it is coincidence, that your father’s insanity is seeping into your brain and making you paranoid. 

By the time you realize your anxieties are not baseless, it is too late.  Not that you stood much of a chance in the first place. 

You try running but there are three of them overall, one driver and two armed muscle guys.  They chase you down and cover your mouth before you can scream.  You kick and jostle but all of Felix’s self-defence lessons fly out of your brain in your panic.  Your tears are all used up so you don’t cry.  Even terror passes, leaving only nausea in its wake. 

It doesn’t feel real, being shoved into the back of a car by men in black suits.  This is not something real that happens.  This is something your father threatens, something inane and melodramatic, something out of a movie or a book, not real life.  Not your life. 

Yet here you are, flanked by two strange men while the driver peels across the tarmac.   They do not cuff or gag you, simply buckle you into a seatbelt and point a gun at you.  You are shaking too bad to do anything useful anyway, and your voice feels clogged in your suddenly dry throat. 

They are talking to you but it takes you a minute to register any word, everything fuzzy and out of focus. 

“—just be a good girl and co-operate and everything will be fine.” 

That is all you hear. 

That and the name Miroh. 

You try to calm yourself.  You think rationally.  Miroh has no reason to kill you or even torture you, as far as you know.  In all likelihood, he is using you as leverage to get something from your father.  That is why your father is always worried about you being taken.  He doesn’t talk about damage to you, just his business. 

You manage to calm the worst of your shaking.  Then the one with the gun yanks on your hair and you jerk away violently. 

“She’s better behaved than Miroh said,” he says with a laugh.  “Might not even have to take a finger.” 

You clutch your hands tightly together, glaring at him, but it just garners more chuckles.  The driver laughs too, peering at you through the rear-view mirror. 

“Too well behaved,” he suddenly says, eyes narrowing.  “You check her pockets?” 

It is then you remember your phone.  Felix turned on your GPS.   They can track where you are going.  Felix can track where you are going.  If nothing else, you trust that Felix can do something.  Felix, Felix, Felix.  It is all you can think about.  Felix will find you.  You will be back with Felix tonight, safe in your shared bed. You are always safe with Felix.  You want to be there right now.  You can’t even remember how you got here.  Your whole day is turning into one blacked out nothingness, a dreary bleak empty before you found yourself in this car hurtling to god-knows-what fate. 

The man finds your phone.  You try to reach for it but then you feel the gun at your temple and your whole body locks up.  You have seen a gun before, many times, but you have never had one pointed at you.  You always thought you would be brave, having been around them your whole life.  Maybe that is why you are afraid.  Your body is trying to protect you, freezing you like it always does. 

The man rolls down the window and throws your phone into the wind. 

You sit back and close your eyes, willing this nightmare to end.  You try to convince yourself that this is your father’s doing, that he is just trying to teach you a lesson.  You wouldn’t even be mad.   You just want to go home. 

But there is no sign of your father’s security team.  You pass dozens then hundreds of cars as you leave the residential area and take the highway.  None of your father’s vehicles are among them.  And how could they be?  They can track as far as your phone and then they have nothing.  There is no way for them to know where Miroh’s men are taking you.  You have no idea what they want.  You can’t even cry or panic because your body is shutting itself down in its panic.  The periphery of your gaze is obscured in shadow.   Their voices fade in and out, rarely directed at you anyway.  They seem to know you will not answer.  They have experience with this sort of thing. 

Of course they do.  Miroh is your father’s only equal.  Your father does nothing by halves.  Miroh would only send the best. 

You leave the highway and turn onto a country road out of the city.  Wherever they are taking you, it is far and they are unhurried.  You have a long time to stew in your anxiety.    

You can only see directly in front of you, through the windshield and the rear-view mirror.  You stare, willing one of your father’s black cars to appear in it even though you know that will not happen.  The only cars are civilian cars and even those begin to disappear as they take side roads to their own destinations.  Soon it is just one other car trailing you at a distance.  It is a beat-up civilian truck, not very big, a splotchy, peeling burgundy.   The rims are muddy from frequent use and little washing. 

It is ugly but it could be the last thing you see for a while.  It makes you stare more intensely. 

You are focussing so hard on the tiny details that you do not even notice it is speeding up.  It goes from a distant spot to filling the rear-view in moments.  

The driver mumbles a curse to himself, shaking his head and frowning. 

“What’s this idiot doing?” he grumbles.  “As if we don’t have enough to deal with.  Now we got some drunk on the road.” 

The truck is swerving, back and forth, then it speeds up and whips past your car.  It startles the driver, making him veer a hard right as the truck goes left around him.  He shouts a curse even though the other driver can’t hear, the truck already speeding away into the darkness.  There are no street lamps on the country road so it completely vanishes, disappearing when it leaves the glow of your headlights. 

There is a moment of quiet.  A tunnel of light.  Darkness around it. 

The truck appears again in the middle of it, parked and blocking the entire road lengthwise.  The driver shouts another curse and slams on the brakes to stop from barrelling into it. 

The whole car lurches with the sudden halt.  You snap forward and back again, held down by the seatbelt.  The other two hit the seats in front of them, cursing as they fix themselves.  The weapons guy drops his gun and it clatters somewhere on the ground of the vehicle.  You watch him dive down, cursing to himself before he finds it. 

“Get him out of the way!” the driver shouts, pointing to the stopped vehicle.   The two men get out of the car, sounding more aggravated by the obstacle than afraid.  The other one pulls a gun so they are both armed as they approach the vehicle. 

The men circle the truck.  You can see they are yelling and cursing again.  They come stomping back over to the vehicle.   Even with all the windows rolled up, you can hear him as he shouts, “There’s no one fucking there!” 

“What!” the driver returns, pointing ahead.  “He didn’t just disappear!  Check the—”  

He is interrupted by the rattle of unexpected thunder – what sounds like someone running up and over the car from behind.  You both look up as if you can see through the car roof.  The men outside react just as fast, guns raised.  Shots are swiftly fired and you cover your ears, flinching. 

The figure comes into view.  It feels like your heart stops. 

Felix takes a flying leap off the roof of the car and comes swinging into view.  He lands on the shoulders of one of the men.  In one sharp move, Felix snaps the man’s neck.  When his body crumples, Felix jumps, tackling the other man and knocking his gun out of the way.  He pulls his own gun out of his waistband and you don’t even have time to cover your eyes before a bullet shatters the man’s temple.  That body falls too. 

It was a matter of seconds.  The driver scarcely has time to react.  He is fumbling with the glove compartment when Felix walks up to the car and shoots his window.   The bullet does not penetrate the glass but it fractures it, sending shards flying onto the man. 

You shriek, your voice coming back to you.  Felix smacks the broken window with the butt of the gun, shattering it completely.  He unlocks the car, his face devoid of all emotion as he throws open the door and reaches in.  He grabs the man by the scruff of his neck and repeatedly slams his head against the steering wheel, knocking him out cold. 

He closes the door with a kick and tucks his gun back in his waistband. 

Adrenaline completely takes over your body.  You do not think or reflect, only feel and act.   Felix steps toward the car to open your door but you are already pushing it open.  He steps back when it flies past him, already breathing hard when you stumble out of the vehicle on shaky legs. 

“Do you have any idea—” he starts, his deep voice breaking.  “Any, any idea how worried I was?  And those stupid, fucking, incompetent—”

He is pointing to nowhere, just gesticulating in his emotions.  It all seems to pour of him, terror and agony, anger and helplessness.  He is wearing casual clothes, ripped jeans, a sleeveless red flannel over a t-shirt.  He was probably sitting at home when he jumped into action.    

His dark roots are starting show in his golden hair.  You will have to colour that for him, you think, giddily, half-mad. 

“You could have died,” he is saying.  “They could have—”

You throw your arms around his neck and crash into him.  It is a collision of a kiss, more teeth than lips until you figure out to close your mouth. 

Those men could not move him but you can.   He backs up under the guiding push of your soft hands, walking, walking, walking, each quick backward step until you have him pressed up against the truck, your lips still locked.  When you finally separate it is with a gasping, wet split.  You stare at each other, taking in the reality of the other person.  Him, with blood disappearing into the red threads of his flannel.  You, alive, unharmed, right here in front of him with no one to stop him from kissing you again. 

He grabs you by the neck and pulls you back to him, kissing you with an open-mouthed desperation that has you practically sobbing with need.  He flips your positions, cupping the back of your head so you are not hurt when he pins you to the truck.  You sink your fingers into his hair, wrapping a leg around his waist as he grinds against the softest spot of you.  He licks into your mouth, making a rumbling noise of deep, heartfelt satisfaction that makes you throb. 

His lips are pink and raw when he stops for a breath.  You kiss the side of his face, clinging to him, making a pleading noise when he does not resume kissing you. 

He steps back and points to the car. 

“Get in the truck,” he says firmly.  “This isn’t the time.  Don’t argue.” 

You have no desire whatsoever to argue.  You climb into the passenger seat while Felix makes a phone call.  You watch him through the window, running a hand through his hair, his mouth pink, his shirt blood-stained. 

You have always known Felix was capable of this sort of thing, but seeing it is very different than imagining it.  Before it was some nebulous concept of a person but now the reality of him collides with the boy who has been sharing your bed for years.  This is the same boy who needed your help to tie his school tie.  Cartoon-watching, computer-building Felix, with his dry wit and toothy smiles. 

You are not sure what it says about you that you are not afraid of him, not even a little bit.  Maybe it is because you are not surprised.  Maybe it is something else.  But the only thing you want right now is for him to put his arms around you. 

He gets into the truck and sits there for a moment, just breathing as he looks down at his phone.  A thought flickers across his eyes, a twitch of his brows, then he turns off the phone and tosses it into the backseat.   The gun follows with a clatter.  You look back at both then at him with shock. 

Felix has never turned off that phone.  It is always completely charged and within reach.  The GPS cannot be tracked if it is off.  Your father cannot reach him if it is off.   It is never supposed to be off. 

You stare at him, tracing his profile as he pushes his hair back then starts the car.   You only look away when you pass the other vehicle, the unconscious driver still slumped over the wheel.  You turn your head, watching the scene disappear into the darkness behind you. 

“Your father’s men will clean it up,” Felix says, drawing your eyes back to him.  He does not look away from the road, resolutely focussed despite the lack of traffic on the country road.

“You left one alive,” you say.  “What if he wakes up?”

“Uhh, he’ll be lucky if he is conscious in two days,” Felix says with a scoff.  His lips draw into that thin line.  “Your father will want someone to interrogate.”

You look out the windshield and sigh.  You feel like you have aged years tonight yet it also feels like none of this really happened.  It seems impossible that moments ago you were staring through a different windshield, petrified. 

Felix looks at you.  You turn your head and meet his gaze, watching grief twist his features before he looks ahead again. 

“Did they hurt you?” he asks, gripping the wheel tight with both hands. 

You shake your head, still facing him, studying him. 

“I was thinking about you,” you say, the words escaping in a breathless slur.  “It was the only thing that made me feel safe.”  You find it easier to speak your feelings after everything.  It’s like all that fear blasted through a barricade.  You thought you might never see him again and all those feelings were trapped inside you.  You cannot help but let them pour out now, like blood seeping from an open wound, your hand shaking as you reach across the console to touch the side of his face. 

His breath stutters.  He takes your hand and for a moment holds it, squeezing it in his.  He does not look away from the road.  Eventually he puts your hand in your lap, curling it around your thigh and squeezing, then he grabs the wheel again. 

Your gaze drifts to the wheel then the overall truck.  The rest of reality comes back to you in increments and you suddenly realize this is obviously not one of your father’s cars. 

“Where did you get this truck?” you ask. 

“I stole it,” he says. 

“You stole a car?!” you shriek, voice naturally pitching up with surprise. 

He looks at you incredulously. 

“I just killed two men,” he says.  “You’re worried about the car?” 

“I don’t know!”  You slouch in your seat, looking out the window.  “Don’t talk to me, I’m traumatized.” 

He shakes his head but laughs a little.   You do not speak for a bit, the only sound the tires rolling over the gravel road.  Then Felix sighs. 

“They wouldn’t listen,” he says.  “Your father’s, hmmm, ‘professionals’.”  He rolls his eyes and clicks his jaw, clearly still pissed about it.  “I knew it had to be Miroh.  You were heading west to the highway when your GPS stopped.  I knew where they’d be taking you.  But your father’s geniuses thought you threw your phone and were running.  But you wouldn’t do that, yeah.  You want to be found.  That’s why you run.  You want him to care enough to chase you and bring you home.” 

You look out your window, resting your head in your hand as rows of dark trees pass you by. 

“Home,” you say.  “Miroh.  Not sure there’s going to be a difference in what’s waiting, is there?” 

Felix says nothing to this.  The gravel road comes to an end as you approach tarmac.  Instead of turning left to return to the highway, Felix turns right.  You look back through the window, confused, wondering if you mistook your location.  But no, you are definitely driving further into the countryside. 

“The highway is that way,” you say, looking at him.  His whole body is tense, eyes locked on the road.  “Aren’t we going home?”

“Yes,” he says, then turns up a different country road.  “Eventually.” 

You do not know what to expect with Felix.  His emotional fluctuation is not as blatant as yours, but he does waver unpredictably, one moment leaning towards you and then pulling away.  You do not know what he is planning and you do not ask.  You simply stare through the window as you turn up a few more roads, getting further and further from the main road until you turn into a small gravel lane between some fields.  Bushes surround the car on either side, the main road very far behind you. 

Felix turns off the car but keeps both hands on the wheel, still staring intensely out the front window.

“Where are we?” you ask, squinting through the dark at the fields.  It feels exceptionally quiet without the engine running. 

“This cannot happen again,” Felix says.

He is still facing forward, concentrating on nothing that you can see.  You look ahead then back at him, sighing with exasperation.  If he drove you out here to just to lecture you some more…

“I know,” you say.  “I shouldn’t have left in the first place.  I’m sorry.  I know it’s your job to—”

“This has nothing to do with my job,” he says.  He shakes his head.  “I— You—Do you understand how I—  This is— This is reckless.  Stupid.  It cannot happen again, yeah?  Do you get me?”

“I know,” you say.  “And it won’t.  I get it.  No more running, I just—”

Your breath catches when he looks at you.  There is so much heat in his gaze that you feel immediately flushed.

He undoes his seatbelt then reaches across the console and undoes yours.  When you hear the click, it all registers.  You reach for him as he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and pulls.  This kiss is a crash as well, but a stumbling one, less vicious than thirsty.  Arms get tangled in seatbelts but he manages to whip them aside.  He guides you into his lap as you climb ungracefully over the console with all your shaking limbs. 

You make a sound like relief when you are in his lap, chests touching, knees pressing into his hips, arms around his neck.  His hands are under your borrowed hoodie, then under your shirt, palms splayed against the bare skin of your back as he kisses you with a wet open mouth, hungry and seeking, asking and taking. 

He reaches to the side and fumbles for something.  You squeal with surprise when the seat abruptly drops, your combined weight pushing it flat when he flips the lever.  The surprise passes and he spills back, taking you with him.   He yanks at your hoodie and you sit up to pull your arms through.  Embarrassingly enough, you get tangled trying to remove it at the same time as your shirt.   You get them both off, laughing shyly and feeling ridiculous with your ungraceful action. 

He blinks up at you, his face full of much more wonder and affection than you think you merit.  It is almost more embarrassing than your clumsiness. 

Your awkward hand covers your collarbone but he takes that hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing you palm then your fingertips.  You throb with the recollection of the last time he took your fingers in his mouth, except this time he doesn’t look away, all that heat centred on you. 

He grasps your hips then slides his hands up your body.  You wonder if other people feel like one big shivering mess at such simple touches.   You blame it on today’s chaotic episode.  For a moment, you were nothing and no one, floating in a bleak emptiness with no past or future.  Just a bartering tool, business collateral, a thing sitting in a car for transport to be used by a different bad man for financial leverage. 

Felix touches you and your body comes to life, all that humanity rushing back.  You’re a person and so is he, flushed and excited, just a little messy but earnest.  You find yourselves in a stolen moment in a stolen car, nothing yours but each other. 

He palms your breasts through your bra then fumbles with the clasp, his usually dexterous hands suddenly jumpy.  It makes you both laugh, tittering little sounds as you get it off and toss it aside.  His calloused hands on your bare skin erases any lingering embarrassment.

Straddling his hips, you rock against him.  The hard line of him is pushing at the fly of his jeans, as receptive and eager as you.  You make similar sounds, soft low hums, used to keeping quiet.  You remember you don’t have to restrain yourself so you moan when he cups you through your shorts, grinding the heel of his palm against the soft wet heat of you.  You push his shirt up, running your hands over his chest, noticing a few scars but not lingering much right now. 

You touch him like he touches you, hands wandering, working each other up until you are wild in your wanting.  He makes a rough sound when you squeeze him through his jeans, then he is trying to work off your shorts while you unbutton his fly.  You have to get off him to take the rest of your clothes off.  His fingers are twitchy as they scrabble over his fly, unzipping then shuffling his jeans down his hips. 

You are confronted with that moment of intention again, when his jeans are at his knees and his shirt is pushed up, when you are completely naked in a car in the middle of nowhere and climbing back on top of him, making the deliberate choice to do what you are doing.  It is exhilarating.  It is scary.  You have big fears, about the repercussions in the world outside this vehicle, and you have little fears, like what if you are not good at this and you let him down after everything. 

But that seems impossible when he looks at you like that, warm and desirous, breathing hard as he drags his fingers down your body and slips them between your thighs.  You touch him too, marvelling in his sounds and faces, the flush of his cheeks, his mussed hair.  With just his fingers inside you, he is already looking at you like you are a singular miracle. 

It does feel miraculous.  When you think of where you started, when you think of who you are, this seems so impossible.  But you are here, losing yourself to his steady touch and tender gaze.  You grab his wrist, instinctively seeking control when he works you up to an orgasm, making you clench around his fingers.  You shudder on top of him, your head tipping back.   

“Fuck,” he says, so low and guttural it hardly sounds like a word.  Then he says softly, “Sweetheart.” This is accompanied with a long touch inside you, dragging his fingers so slowly, drawing out your orgasm until your whole body feels soft and pliant.  You ache with the loss of him when he withdraws his touch, just his thumb rolling across that oversensitive nub of pleasure.  Your skin already feels sweaty where you are touching, your hand curled around the length of him as you position yourself above him. 

Even with his effort, it is a stretch and burn when you first sink down.  You smack a hand on the roof of the truck, scratching your nails over it as you sit in his lap with him inside you. 

He curses.  His head falls back, his eyes closing. 

“Is it okay?” you ask in a strained voice. 

He replies, “Ahh…” then, “Uh!” then “Uhhhahh…” then finally, “Yes, yes.  God yes.”  He lifts his head and looks at where he is inside you, then he looks up at you.  “Are you, uh, are you okay?” 

His voice is a raspy thing, his face so raw with pleasure that you find yourself giggling in spite of yourself. 

“Yeah,” you say on a breath.  “Just… a lot.” 

He sits up, careful not to jostle you too much.  You still feel him moving inside you.  When you clench, he makes a sound, but he is not distracted from his mission, cupping the back of your head and bringing you close for a kiss.  You sink into it, your hands sliding onto his shoulders as his tongue slips past your lips. 

He helps you move, both of you following base instinct and little else.  It starts to feel deliriously good.  You are light-headed from kissing, worked up from knowing he is as close to you as he possibly can be. 

You move slowly, hands roaming over each other.  You get his flannel off and toss it into the passenger seat.  Then he braces himself to move his hips better, holding you steady.  You touch the roof so you don’t hit your head, rolling your hips to meet him.  It’s good but not enough and soon he is turning you over, laying you on your back under him.  He has to separate from you to get comfortable. 

You whine, touching yourself, and he smacks his head hard against the roof with surprise.  You laugh, slapping a hand over your mouth while he winces and rubs his head. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, still giggling.  Fortunately, he chuckles, wincing again for show before sighing. 

“Never better,” he says, and takes off his shirt.  You are both perspiring and not just from exertion, the car trapping all your combined heat and breathing.  The windows have completely fogged over and it shields you completely.  You have never felt more safe.  You eagerly open your legs to him as he settles on top of you and finds his place again. 

You wrap around him, whimpering and moaning and sighing when he finds a rhythm in this position.  He cradles you in his arms, rocking into you until you are dizzy with it.  He somehow feels deeper and deeper with every motion.  He kisses your chest and throat, up to your ear, across your face, your mouth.   You kiss him back, hooking your ankles behind his back and pulling him hard against you like you want more. 

“Got you,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear.  “Got you, sweetheart.” 

He makes you come again, tears springing to your eyes from the sensation of it all.   When his breathing gets frantic and his hips erratic, you let him go.  You breathe hard under him as he sits back and grabs his discarded flannel, coming into that.

 He tosses it aside after, then runs his fingers through his hair as he stares down at you.  You slowly sit up and lean in for one more kiss.  He obliges, cupping your face and kissing you deeply. 

You want to wrap around him again, hold him to your chest and lay there until you are both ready for more.

You take what you can get.  This was dangerous, but you have no regrets.  Even when you are both dressed and in your own seats, you feel enflamed and alive and glowing. 

He tosses his flannel out the window, leaving it on the ground behind you.  You roll down the windows and return to the highway.  It is a long drive home. 

-

Your father does not punish you.  He does not punish Felix in place of you.  The house is deathly silent when you arrive home.  Your father is in his office and Felix takes you there to see him. 

Your father does not even look up from his book.  After a moment he asks, “Did they hurt you?” 

You shake your head but he isn’t looking at you, so you are forced to find your voice and answer, “No.” 

“Good,” he says and turns the page to his book. 

You are teetering on the edge of panic all over again, waiting for him to erupt, to throw something at you, to grab you by the hair and give you a beating worse than anything ever before.  But he just turns another page to his book, so it’s you that erupts. 

“It wasn’t my fault,” you say in a frantic rush. “Hyunjin and I broke up and I was upset so I wanted to see Jisung, that’s it, I just wanted to see my friend.  It’s just because—”

Felix puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to stop you from running your mouth when you don’t need to do so.  It succeeds in silencing you, your voice breaking.  You swallow down a sob. 

Your father finally lifts his head.  His expression is completely blank.  There is no trace of anger, no sadness, no guilt.  You do not know what to do when he is like this.  He is giving you nothing worth a reaction so all your emotions bubble inside you with nowhere to go, spilling over and scalding you like a boiling pot.

“Go to bed,” your father says.  “What’s done is done.” 

It is not surprising that you have a nightmare, waking in a fit that even Felix cannot comfort.  Your half-asleep mind panics when he grabs you, forgetting who he is.  Only when he repeats your name in that sweet, low voice do you remember yourself.  You collapse against him, shaking while he strokes your back and talks gently to you, lulling you back to sleep.  It remains fitful and uneven but you get through the night. 

You are expecting the punishment to come in the morning but your father does not speak to you even though he is in the house.  You do not see him all day.  You have another restless night of bad dreams, Felix comforting you as best he can.  You wake the next morning thinking that surely, the punishment would come today.  There is no way your father is letting you get away with this.  He is planning something, something big, something you will never forget. 

But your father is gone and so is the security team.  Felix phones him and your father informs him that he had some impromptu business to take care of, that he would be gone for the next week.   

You are driving to school on Monday morning when Felix says, “Maybe he thinks it was punishment enough on its own.”  

“Do you really believe that?” you ask. 

Felix does not answer because he knows how far-fetched that is.  He knows your father as well as you do. 

There are only a couple more days of school.  This late in the semester, the lessons are completed, exams being graded.  Everyone is gearing up for graduation, signing yearbooks, taking pictures.   Classes offer more down time than work, letting students mingle.  It is easy few handful of days, the most exceptionally fun days of the whole year. 

Jisung would not miss it.  And he would not abandon you after your conversation.  When he is missing from school on Monday, you are immediately filled with horror. 

Felix looks at you when he realizes Jisung is missing, doing his best to calm you with his eyes. 

“He wouldn’t,” you murmur, just loud enough for Felix to hear.  “Tell me he wouldn’t…” 

Felix says nothing.  He knows your father as well as you do. 

You try phoning Jisung at various intervals through the day but it keeps going straight to voicemail.  Jisung is not great at keeping his phone charged so this is not unusual on its own, but you cannot shake the dread in the pit of your gut. 

Before the day ends, you all but throw yourself at Felix.  All it takes is one teary-eyed please for him to nod, understanding. 

You have the driver take you to Jisung’s house.  Felix steps out of the car and calls your father, needing to report your diversion from routine, but also hopefully gleaning some intel into your father’s potential involvement.  Meanwhile, you run up the porch and frantically bang on the door, not stopping until Jisung’s mother whips it open. 

“What?” she snaps.  “Why are you banging— oh it’s you.”

“Where is he?” you ask.  “Is he sick?  Can I see him?” 

“He’s just at the hospital,” she says like this is no big deal at all, even while you are sweating through your clothes with anxious terror. 

“The hospital?” you ask.  “Why is he—”

“Calm down!  He just had an allergic reaction,” she says.  “Stupid child ate peanuts and didn’t have his pen.  He’ll be fine.” 

“Can you tell me which hospital?” you say.  Some tension leaves your body with this revelation but even so, you will not feel truly at ease until you can see that Jisung is safe with your own two eyes.

His mother tells you where to find him and you thank her while she closes the door in your face.  You are feeling lighter already, heart bursting with light when you spin and jump off the porch. 

You rush up to Felix, eager to report your good news, but you draw to a slow stop at the look on his face.  This is not his professional indifference, listening to commands, but instead an expression of obvious remorse.  He looks apologetic, eyes full of pity, as he extends his arm, handing you the phone. 

You press the device to your ear, heart skipping beats in the worst way. 

“Hello?” you say. 

“After everything I have done for you,” your father says.  “After everything I have given you.  After my leniency despite your repeated abominable behaviour.  For you to end things with an appropriate boy to go chasing after some no-count, miscreant loser with no future and no—”

“What are you talking about?” you say.  “I don’t even know—”

“You stupid little—”  You can picture his face, mouth frothing with rage, brows pinched in fury.  You can picture him catching his breath as he slams a hand on his desk.  “Do you think I couldn’t see it all over your face?  That you were out whoring around with that nobody boy you call a friend?  I could see your commitment to the Hwang boy was a front but I foolishly thought you were making an effort to improve yourself.  How long have you been deceiving me?  Fronting with the Hwang boy while you run around with your schoolboy behind my back?” 

He thinks you’re dating Jisung.  He thinks this is all because of Jisung.  You cannot tell him the truth without ruining your life, Felix’s life, and Hyunjin’s life. 

You scramble for a defence, a denial, but memories of you and Felix flood your mind, the panic of that night takes over you, and soon you are freezing up. 

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” you eventually manage, your voice quivering with the rest of you.  “Please, Jisung is completely innocent, he’s just my friend, he—”

“Please,” your father says derisively.  “You have the audacity to say please to me now.  To ask for my permission now.   You listen to me and you listen well.  What I did to this boy was nothing. Having an allergen slipped into his food was a warning to you.  Your one and only warning, a warning I am only giving you because I prefer not to deal with civilian messes when I can avoid it.  But I whole-heartedly assure you, that if I find out you are in contact with this boy, if I find out you are even thinking about looking in his direction, it is over for him.  I will have him shot in the fucking head in front of you if that’s what it will take to get through to you.” 

You are bombarded with the image of Felix shooting those men.  Suddenly, you imagine it is Jisung across from him instead.  You look at Felix with a frantic, terrified look.  Your voice is weak when you say, “Dad, please, he’s—”

“Do not talk to back me!” he screams.  “You spoiled little slut!  He’s trash, is what he is!  Do you know what kind of life I have given you?  How dare you insult me this way.  How dare you throw it all on that waste of a person.  You go to that boy and you tell him to stay away or it will be the end of him.  Do you understand me?  Say yes or so help me—”

“Yes,” you say, sucking in a hard breath to keep your tears at bay.  “Yes, fine, just leave him alone.  Don’t hurt him, please.” 

Your father hangs up without another word.   

You look up at Felix.  He takes the phone, sucking in a breath of his own. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say. 

Jisung is sitting up in his hospital bed when you find him.  His phone is a dead brick sitting on his bedside table, uncharged as anticipated.  He is sipping from a carton and watching television when you walk into the room, surprising him.  His face lights up with delight and he chokes on his drink, dribbling a bit down his front. 

You hurry to his side, worried, but he just laughs and wipes his chin. 

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” he says.  “It was just a flare-up.  They’re just keeping me for observation to make sure I don’t, you know, suffocate and die in my sleep.”  He says this like it is ridiculous and funny but you are overwhelmed with the image of Jisung lying still in this bed, all the life and colour of your wonderful and vibrant best friend drained to nothing. 

Jisung can see something is wrong.  The humour falls from his expression, replaced with concern as he sees you well up with tears. 

“Hey,” he says, softer.  “I said I’m fine.  Don’t worry.  Is this about something else?  Are you okay?” 

You are not crying but you can feel the emotion in your throat.  If you speak, you think it will pour out in a flood.  You can only sit there, perched on the edge of his bed, staring at him.  He still looks strange without his hat.  Although he is joking around, there is an admitted pallor to his complexion.  He is on the mend but he has clearly been very ill for a day at least. 

That pallor and serious expression look so wrong on his face.  When you think of Jisung, you think of happiness, the first burst of sunshine in your life after growing up in shade.  You think about his awkward laughter during your first conversation, his many hugs, his stupid jokes, his winks and encouragements.  You did not know how to love anyone or anything until you met him. 

In your silence, he looks around, spotting Felix hovering in the doorway. 

“Felix!” he says.  “Hey!  What’s going on?”

“Hey,” Felix says gently.  He looks at you, sees your downturned face as you gather yourself.  He smiles at Jisung with his best distracting grin, like everything is fine, like everything has always been fine.  “Just saying bye, man,” Felix says. 

“Bye?”  Jisung asks.  “Where are you going?  Right before grad?  Not back to Australia, are you?”  Jisung looks at you and pets your head.  “Is Felix leaving?  Is that why you’re upset?”  

“No, Jisung,” you say, forcing your voice.  You shake your head.  “No, it’s not Felix.  I just…”  You look up and meet his eyes, so big and concerned.  You see him at age twelve, thirteen, fourteen, all those years he coaxed you out of your shell and ran around with you.  He was the first person to look back at you, to see something worth reaching for.   You want to touch his face and hug him, but you are certain if you start any of that, you will not be able to do what you need to do.  “Jisung, I’m leaving,” you say.  “I won’t be able to see you again.” 

“What?” he asks, confused for just a moment before he shakes his head and frowns.  “This is about your dad, isn’t it?  Is he doing something?  You have to let me help you—”

“Jisung, you can’t help me—”

“Yes, I can—”

“You can’t—”

“Then who’s going to?” he demands. 

“Not you!”  Anger and sadness combine and you look away, staring at the crinkled juice carton on his bedside table.  He is here because of you.  “Jisung, he made you sick.  He will try to kill you.” 

“What?”  Jisung asks, barely above a whisper.  “H-how?  I don’t even—”

“He has professionals,” you say, meeting his bewildered gaze again.  “And he can do much worse than this.” 

Jisung opens and closes his mouth, failing to find the words, then finally he shakes his head and says, “No.  I don’t care.  I’m not scared, I’m—”

“I’m scared,” you say.  “Jisung, I don’t want to see you ever again, because if something happened to you—”  You cannot conceive of a world where this is no Han Jisung.  You would not be the person you are now if he had never existed.  You would not have any emotions at all.  For the first time, you do not curse your sensitive feelings, rather you relish in feeling them at all, that you have a friend that it hurts to lose.   “Jisung, please,” you say.  “Don’t make this harder for me.  I’m going to go and we can’t see each other again.  The best thing you can do for me is have a good life.” 

Jisung starts crying, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. 

“That’s not fair,” he says.  “What about you?  What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sorry,” you say.  You laugh dryly, looking aside. “It would have been better for you if you never knew me.”

“You already know that’s not true,” he says in a small voice. 

You are certain his face is full of pain but you cannot bring yourself to look at him again.  You try to say the word goodbye but it gets stuck in your throat, so finally you just stand up to leave.   

He grabs your arm, tugging you back.  You stare at the bed, not at him. 

“I said my promise was forever,” he says.  “I don’t care if it’s in five years, or ten years, or fifty.  I know I’m not—I know I can’t do much but—if you need me—”

You just nod, scrunching your face to stop the tears.  It does not work.  You pull your arm away and he lets you go, his hands falling helplessly limp to the bed.  You stare at the ground as you walk away, not looking back at him, not even looking at Felix. 

You are standing in the doorway when Jisung says your name one more time, barely more than a whisper yet stopping you faster than all your father’s screaming. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” he says. 

You look up at Felix.  You know when you leave this place, you are going to take his hand.  When you climb into bed tonight, you are going to wrap your arms around him and let him hold and comfort you.  You are going to soothe his nightmares the way he does yours.  You are going to carve out a corner of light and happiness in your otherwise dark life.  You are going to do that because you know how, because having a friend made all the difference. 

“Oh, Jisung,” you say, wiping your face.  “You did save me.” 

You do not stop again, walking past Felix and into the corridor.  He follows swiftly behind, laying a hand on your lower back then taking your hand.  You squeeze it and he squeezes back.  You let him guide you out of the building, your vision blurry.  He knows there is nothing he can say to help right now, but he touches you gently and helps you along.  When you get home, he trails behind you as you trudge up the stairs to the bedroom. 

“Can I do something?” he asks. 

You shake your head.  “Not right now, thank you.” Your voice is still weak.  “Maybe later.” 

“Okay,” he says.  “I’ll be here.”

You nod and continue up the stairs, not even sure what your plan is right now.  It feels strange to go about your usual routine but that is what you do, your body carrying you automatically through each task, changing clothes, putting your uniform away, washing your face. 

You sit at your desk and decide you might as well go through your stack of school supplies.  You have been dumping textbooks and notebooks here as the semester ends.  You sort the empty notebooks from the used ones, the books you will never re-read from the ones to shelve.  You find your yearbook in the middle of it all.  You realize you never actually read Jisung’s message. 

You open the book, skimming the other messages from other students.  Lots of Have a Great Summer from Hyunjin’s friends, but a few cute personalized memos too.  Felix’s joking scrawl is at the bottom of a page and it makes you smile and shake your head.  You smile again when you read Hyunjin’s note: Our lives will not be meaningless.  He ended it with a playful, LOVE YOU MY GIRLFRIEND!!

You flip through the book.  You were not in any clubs or on any teams so there are very few pictures of you, just your posed portrait and one photo on a collage page – you, Jisung, and Felix awkwardly smiling as the yearbook photographer snapped a picture of you at lunchtime. 

You swallow.  You already know turning to the last page is going to make you cry.  You could avoid it.  You could close this book and never think about it again.  Your father would never walk into any situation that would deliberately compromise his mental and emotional integrity.  He would deride you for doing so.  You used to think he was right, that your feelings were a weakness. 

You realize your feelings make him weak, not you.  He wants you to be a robotic doll, devoid of feelings, blindly obedient, but you are not.  You will never strive to be that. 

You flip to the final page, filled with Jisung’s writing.  You smile and cry and curse out your father, then close the book and hug it to your chest, your heart beating steadily where you cradle it close. 

-

To the bestest most awesome girl in the world (not just saying that because you’re the only girl I know) from the bestest most awesome boy in the world (including your evil boyfriend, sorry!) 

Usually it’s easy for me to put my thoughts in writing but I’m drawing a blank.  How can I tell you in words how important your friendship is when that friendship is made up of more than words?  I never thought I’d be someone who runs off to parties or sneaks out onto rooftops, and I never thought I’d have so many friends.  Thank you for giving me the world.  I hope we can keep exploring it together. I know no matter what, we’ll still be friends, even if we’re far away after school ends.  Our parents might suck and we might be kinda weird as hell, but we have each other and that counts for something.  We loved each other first so no matter what else happens that will be always true.  Boyfriends will come and go but your best friend is forever!!  And you know I’ll be ready with a shovel if anyone breaks your heart.  I know it’s sappy to say, but it’s always safe with me.  

Times might be hard and we might drift apart, but I know we’ll see each other again and it will be like we never left.  Take care of yourself if I’m not there.  Keep fighting!!!  Nothing will be impossible for you. 

Your best friend now + always,

Han Jisung ♡

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz x reader

[agaypanic]

I saw that you were interested in lab rats requests, and I'm obsessed with that show and have like a billion thoughts in my head so can i request a chase davenport x reader, where the reader is perry's niece and shes kind of a grey character. Like she's mean to everyone who deserves it, especially those who are mean to Chase, which is honestly a lot of people. Similar to Jade from victorious but less intense lol. One day she just goes off and Chase is just so into it.

Chase Davenport With Principal Perry's Niece Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: fun fact, i know jade from clips on tiktok, but ive actually never really seen victorious aside from one episode that my ex made me watch years ago that i barely paid attention to lol

***

He’s a bit scared of you at first

He thinks you’ll be like your aunt, who’s a bit of a nightmare

But he’s quickly proven wrong when you’re left alone

“You! Dorky twerp!” Principal Perry pointed at Chase and his siblings, and they all looked at her confused.

“Think that means you, bud,” Adam said, pushing Chase towards the woman before running off, Bree and Leo hot on his heels. Chase hesitantly closed the distance between him and Perry.

“Yes, Principal Perry?”

“Meet my niece, Y/n.” It was then that he noticed you, standing beside your aunt. You wore a bored expression. “She’s new here, moved in with me because her parents are fighting for custody, and the judge thinks they’re both incompetent.”

“Aunt Terry…” You groaned, wishing she didn’t always feel the need to share such personal and unnecessary information.

“Anyways, I want you to show her to her classes.” Perry leaned in close to Chase, glaring at him. “Make a move on her, and you’re dead meat, Daven-dork.”

You and Chase watched her walk away, somewhat mortified. Then you looked at each other in an awkward silence. You were the first to speak.

“Sorry about her…” You laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. “What’s your name?”

“Chase.” He responded, a bit taken aback. If he was being honest, he thought that there was something in Perry’s DNA that made her the crabby, mean woman she was. So it would’ve made sense if everyone related to her was similar. “Chase Davenport.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile, holding your hand out for him to shake. He smiled back as he shook your hand. 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You quickly become inseparable, much to your aunt’s chagrin

You’re a lot nicer than her, which surprises everyone

But that doesn’t mean you’re never mean

Luckily, it’s only to people who deserve it

Trent was quick to become a pain in your ass. Not directly to you; he was too scared of Perry’s wrath. But the way he treated Chase and his siblings pissed you off. Chase told you not to worry about it, that he was used to it, but you weren’t having it.

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you should be, Chase.” You say as he told you for the tenth time today to forget about Trent and his behavior.

“Aw, it’s cute that you care,” Chase said, laughing when you jokingly pushed him and told him to be quiet. But then he got pushed again, only this time much rougher.

“This kid bothering you, Y/n?” Trent asked with a flirty grin, getting close. You rolled your eyes, pushing past him to get back to Chase.

“No, but someone else is.” You say with a deadpan tone, staring intensely at Trent. He looked around the hall.

“Who?”

“Jesus.” You muttered, you and Chase snickering to each other as you walked away.

Sometimes, your anger gets the best of you

Like when Chase’s bullies start to get a bit physical

You fight back more than he does

After what felt like forever, you got out of your last class of the day and went to the main hall to wait for Chase. He was often waiting for you by his locker, ready to walk you home.

But today, he wasn’t the only person at his locker. A few guys from the football team surrounded him, pushing him whenever he tried to move away.

“Fellas, come on.” He laughed nervously. 

“Shut up, nerd!”

“Hey!” You shouted from across the hall, effectively grabbing all of the boys’ attention. You stomped over to them. “Leave him alone.”

The jocks all turned to surround you, looking amused.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” One of them asked, leaning close to you. “You know, I’m not afraid to hit a girl.”

“I’m not either.” You responded before stomping on his foot and punching him in the stomach. He yelped in pain, and his friends backed away. You grabbed the boy by the ear, making him wince. “Considering football is probably the only thing you and your friends are good at, I suggest you apologize and get the hell out of here. Unless you wanna try to play with some broken fingers?”

The jock immediately shook his head, the others doing the same.

“I’m sorry.” He squeaked.

“I’m not the one you should be saying that to.” You let go of his ear and pushed him towards Chase. Chase stepped aside, watching the football player run into the lockers from the force of your shoving. 

“Sorry…” He said to Chase before looking at his friends and running away with them. The apology didn’t seem too genuine, sounding more scared than anything else. But it was a start.

“You okay?” You asked, looking Chase up and down for any possible damage. He stared at you in slight shock, slowly nodding. You smiled and held your hand out. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Chase swiftly grabbed your hand, walking out of the school with you.

“That was hot.” The short but serious sentence made you laugh.

#agaypanic #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #lab rats x reader #lab rats

[miyaur]

oohhh i love your blog!! how about some morning sex headcanons with albedo, ayato, kaeya and cyno?

⟢ a rising sunset in the east ft. albedo, ayato, kaeya, & cyno ・synopsis. early mornings, busy afternoons, it all calling for intimacy in the bright sun rays through the cracks of the curtains that spill onto the floor, and slow sensual sex at the crack of dawn, right before he goes. ・notes. ugliest and cutest color combo ive ever made, #696969 for the win tho, bro why did i ever think writing was easy without fancy ahh words. day ii: im losing it, i cant write dom albedo, its ok i tried ・warnings. nsfw, morning sex, gn!reader, dom & sub!reader, dom & sub!character, strap/cock mentioned

THE ALCHEMIST: ALBEDO ・such a sweetheart honestly! wants to make those little moments between you two at least somewhat sweet, but he can't help but whimper at the way you went so slowly up and down his cock. and damn did it feel good. probably likes cowgirl / missionary the most. probably has a lot of stamina too! could go on 'till night time again if you wanted him to. orgasms too easily though, so overstimulation with him can barely be avoided. likes to call you an angel, or just basic petnames (i.e. love, darling, dear, etc., he's really cheesy). pretty loud in bed if i don't say so myself. like dom or sub, either way he whimpers and groans a ton, gets turned a whole bunch when you moan, lets him know you like it too yk? ・oh and if you the one pegging/thrusting him from behind or what, do wtv u can to his nipples, he likes that. like a lot. tug on them, rub them, like just doing that and being the one pounding his ass and he'll fall in love, praise him while doing it, tell him he's a good boy and you are on your way to make him orgasm another time. probably real sensitive too, like i said he is prone to orgasming a bit early into sex, like after tugging on his nips for a bit he probably will come as soon as that dick/strap come inside of him!!! anyway back to srs writing, he loves praise a lot, do that and rub his nipples, he'll come untouched. more sensitive in the mornings btw ・aftercare w him is soo soft, like he'll make sure you're both showered and stuff, makes sure you're okay, continuosly asks actually, cuddles you to sleep, before he goes in the morning, forehead kiss and goes out the door feeling like a man with the greatest partner ever.

THE YASHIRO COMMISIONER: KAMISATO AYATO ・likes being in control, any position will do honestly, whatever you're most comfortable with. major tease & wastes 0 time, wastes 0 time is going drunk on your taste, i feel like he's more into sucking/eating you off/out, doesn't have the energy to rail the fuck out of your hole, but maybe a taste of you could give him more energy, yk? gets so drunk on your taste he almost doesn't realize you've already came and your cock/pussy is already off his mouth, will probably overstimulate you a bit too, maybe even edge you a bit after that. ・degrades you like no tomorrow, but likes being degraded when you're the one pegging/thrusting into his ass. likes being punished too, probably the type to go "i'm too tired for this" when you ask if he's your slut to purposely piss you off. will gladly bounce on your dick/strap though, absolutey goes crazy on it, please place hickeys on his neck, show everyone that he belongs to you when he goes out <3 ・loves aftercare, loves also to shower kisses on your back while you both get ready for the morning activities, and as long as you ask for it he'll get for you, makes sure everything you want and need it there for you while he isn't there, so a kiss to your forehead, and he's out the door, and those little things that you had kept your eye on but don't wanna go out anytime soon? he'll get it as soon as possible! just sit tight, and wait for him, that's all he needs from you.

THE CALVARY CAPTAIN: KAEYA ALBERICH ・god damn, he is definitely a big tease while you sleepily ride his cock, your eyes barely open, pleasure running all throughout your body, your hands on his chest, the only thing that really helped your body up, and kaeya can't help but groan, you felt so ethereal, it made him feel like he's falling in love with you all over again. he just needed this before work, just needed you this one more time, he's been almost too busy, it took too long this time for a single mission to be completed, he's glad you can help him relieve his stress! ・probably praises you immensely, and whatever position is okay as long as neither of you have to move that much. pound him while his face is in a pillow, literal praise prince, seriously loves praise so bad, tell him he's being such a good boy taking all of you in. his loud moans in pleasure echoing through the hallway, loves even more if you fuck him in front of a mirror, seeing how much of a mess you've made him, gets turned on so bad, even if it's just you jerking him off, your smooth hands running over his red tip, aa just please keep going!! ・the type of guy to call you mommy/daddy, just depends how far you guys are into it (as in round wise yes.) anyways, aftercare is a dream!! so gentle with you honestly, getting showered with him is so heavenly too, smooth talker plus showering you with affection? such a sweetheart, and if you really can't walk after like in the other headcannons i made for ayato, he'd go for errands for anything that you need, but not 'till 8am, it's still 6am, he'll stay with you for a bit. just a bit 'till he goes.

THE GENERAL MAHAMATRA: CYNO ・WAAA baby is so sensitive, literally just touching all over his cock for a bit makes him wanna cum soo bad, just say the word and he will paint your hands white <33!! his drowsy eyes could barely keep up with the speed of how fast of a pace your hands were going up and down his dick, spurts cum everywhere honestly, kinda heavy load everytime he does too. will let you dominate him in the morning, doesn't really care ・make him choke on your fingers if he's being too loud, definitely likes getting degraded, but praise isn't out of the choices. a mix of everything, really, just don't let it be related to gory stuff, makeout with him and jerk him off, and he'll be off happier than ever. sensitive all over, just seriously do anything to him, more prone to cum just by you stroking him. ・if he does end up being a dom, lots of praise and kisses, really just soft thrusts into you. the belly bulge on your tummy is really what keeps him going, seeing how much of his seed is inside you, holds your hand throughout most of the rounds too, lowkey arrives late to work because of aftercare with you. ・treats you like a queen/king, reminds you all the time how much he loves you and cares about you, that's why he doesn't go that hard during sex, wants to make sure you're comfortable, likes to hold you in the shower, just you and him.

you can tell i was dying while writing this it's kinda icky too so mb.... cg on 700 followers for me ig.......

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin sub smut #genshin smut #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #sub genshin #genshin x you #sub genshin impact #kaeya smut #cyno smut #sub cyno #albedo smut #albedo x reader #albedo x you #kamisato ayato x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x reader #kaeya x male reader

[thevestigeofvanillaan]

HIII! i recently found ur account and i LOVE ur work sm! (the hate fucking with stan.. SO GOOD🤤😻)

ANYWAYS..

i read the stan nsfw headcanons and I LOVE THE IDEA OF THREESOMES WITH KYLE!! could i request a bf!stan x gf!reader x kyle fic?? totally okay if not!

aw tysm bby🥺💗! it makes me really happy to see all the support! and yes omg ive been thinking about writing something about stan x reader x kyle so im glad you've made the request!

content: smut, 3some, petnames (only from stan i believe), somewhat innocent reader but not really, stan and reader are dating and kyle isn't a part of the relationship, first time 3some, head (m!recieving), stan and kyle kiss, use of y/n.

"Baby?" You hear Stan call out to you from the other room. "Yeah?" You ask back from the bedroom.

Not long later you hear footsteps from more than one person coming down the hall and into the bedroom to which the door was already open to.

"Oh, hi Kyle. I'm sorry I wasn't expecting guests." You say, getting up and taking one of Stan's sweatshirts from the floor about to put it on to cover your nipples showing through the white flimsy tank top you'd been wearing.

"No, no, that's okay." Stan says, taking the sweatshirt softly from your hands and placing it on the chair. "Baby, I wanted to know if you would be willing to try something with my friend Kyle here?"

Blankly staring at Stan as you attempt to think of what he may be talking about. "Mmm.. like what?" You ask innocently, genuinely not knowing what they'd meant.

"Well, Stan and I just wanted to try something that we think you might actually enjoy." Kyle shrugs as he looks over to Stan, who smiles and nods with a hum.

"Ooh, okay. Can ya tell me what it is?" You ask, sitting up and smiling excitedly.

Stan sits next to you on the bed and rubs your bare thigh as you're only wearing underwear and that tank top. Stan takes his free hand and uses it to move your hair from your face and kisses your neck. "Stanley—!" You exclaim in shock.

"Is it okay baby?" Stan backs up immediately.

"Of course, but what about Kyle? I thought we were gonna go do something?" You ask before realization hits you. "Ohh..." You exclaim, looking at Kyle and smiling. "Well come here big boy, all ya had to do was ask." You call over Kyle with grabby hands and pull his face down to kiss you.

"I warned you, buddy." Stan shrugs with a subtle chuckle as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor to get lost and he unzips his pants and pulls them down slightly, his boxers staying up.

Kyle takes your shoulders in his hands and softly massages them, sighing loudly and smiling down at you, now standing up straight and tall. "She's a pretty one, Stan. I'll give ya that." Kyle pats one of your shoulders before releasing you and walking around to the other side of the bed.

"Do I get to watch you guys kiss?" You giggle at Stan, crawling over to straddle his lap but when you try to get on he softly guides you to sit back down. "What?" You ask quietly with a pout.

"Not so fast, baby." Stan chuckles and looks back to see what Kyle is doing to see him just sitting on the bed. Stan looks back to you and smiles. "Wanna suck his cock?"

Looking over at Kyle to see his flustered face with a smirk on it your pussy grows wetter at the sight. Without a word you crawl over to straddle one of Kyle's spread out calfs. You place one hand on his belt and move your eyes to look at him. "Can I, Kyle?"

"Go ahead." Kyle smirks with a single nod of his head, giving you permission to undo his belt and suck his cock.

Which is exactly what you do the next second as you begin to undo his belt, pulling it out of enough of the jean loops to get the black ripped jeans and boxers to slide off just enough so his aching hard cock springs free.

Excitedly wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times before bringing your head down and teasing the tip with your tongue. You lick his pink tip a few times before sliding down his length.

Kyle groans from the warm feeling of your mouth sliding up and down his cock before you bring your head up. "Fuck–" Kyle groans at the loss of contact.

"I wanna see you guys kiss." You smile coyly at Kyle and he eyes Stan who's smirking.

"I warned you about this little one. She's a needy little brat, but she's so good for me isn't she?" Stan says looking at you as he finishes his sentence. You nod and bite your drool covered lip as you continue to smile. "If we kiss, you have to make it up to Kyle, okay? You stopped for this, you know." He tilts his head and you nod.

Climbing over to sit on an empty part of the bed, facing Stan and Kyle, you nod. "Go on."

Stan scoots over to Kyle and faces him before looking at you, "This is a one time thing, baby. And I don't wanna hear shit from anyone about this. This is between the three of us and the three of us only. You got that?" Stan says and you nod with a serious expression.

He takes his hand to Kyle's neck and moves his face towards his and pecks Kyle's lips softly before connecting his lips to his again, this time for longer and it's more heated than a simple peck. It goes on for a solid five seconds before they stop and Kyle looks at you. "Can you come back now? This is really getting painful, y/n."

You giggle and crawl over to bring your lips back to Kyle's cock, taking it into your mouth like you were before.

"Let me fuck you, baby?" Stan asks, pressing his clothed erection against your damp panty clad cunt. He moves your hips up more to make it easier and he massages your ass before placing a smack on it, causing you to send a vibrating moan straight to Kyle's cock to which he groans at.

Stan pulls down your panties and looks at your glistening wet cunt before sliding his fingers across it. When he hits your clit you move your hips and hum around Kyle's cock. "Fuck—" Kyle groans, bringing his hands to coil in your messy hair as you feel Stan rub his tip across your messy folds.

"Ready, pretty baby?" Stan asks and without waiting for your response he slides inside quickly with slight pain mixed with a lot of awaited pleasure. You moan around Kyle's cock and feel it twitch inside your mouth before he groans out "Close.!"

Not long after you feel his warm load spill into your mouth and you sputter and choke on it as you gasp for needed air, moaning in the process while Stan fucks into you harder from behind.

You look up at Kyle with his cum dripping down your chin, the rest of which you swallowed or spit out. "Good girl.." Kyle smirks down at you and you smile at the praise. He takes his thumb and wipes the cum off your chin before separating your lips and putting his thumb in your mouth, letting you suck off the juices.

"Fuck Stanley.." You moan out as Kyle takes his thumb out of your mouth. You look back at Stan and he's looking down as he fucks you, groaning through closed lips. He looked so pretty with a few strands of his dark fluffy hair covering his face and his concentrated face. You notice, too, that he's shirtless and his chest is covered in your pretty hickies from yesterday morning.

Squeezing your walls around him only makes his groans grow louder. "You're close, huh baby?" He chuckles and you moan out a yes. You look back at Kyle and move your hands to his shoulders rather than the bed, arching your back.

"Kiss me." You encourage Kyle who brings his lips to yours, to which you aggressively fight his mouth with yours, moaning into the kiss.

"I'm gonna cum baby, cum with me okay?" Stan says with a low voice as he fucks into you harder with more sloppy thrusts.

And with that you came as Stan fills you with his warm cum before pulling out, catching your stomach before you fall down and softly lying you onto your back in Kyle's lap.

All that can be heard his heavy breathing from all parties in the room and you look up at Kyle. "That was fun." You say before looking at Stan, who's now wearing just his baggy jeans.

"Yeah. Next time I'll let you fuck her." Stan winks at Kyle.

#vanillaan #request #south park #kyle south park #stan marsh south park #stan marsh x reader #stan and kyle #south park smut

[cluelylikesporn]

Hii so this is somewhat my first time doing a request so I’m sorry if it sucks or sum 😭😭 Could you do Mike schmidt x babysitter! reader? Where Abby teases the reader in front of Mike for having a crush on him? srry if it doesn’t make sense or sound like sum interesting I just thought it would be cute 😭

RAHHH first of all thank you for your suggestion!!

second, its legit so cute wtff😭 dont even say it sucks

ALSO DISCLAIMER I KNOW IVE BEEN SAYING ILL POST FOR LIKE FUCKING 5 MONTHS AND THE FNAF SHIT HAS DIED DOWN BUT GUYSSS CMONN COME BACK

Im a lazy cunt😭

word count:

mike shmidt x babysitter!reader !!

gender neutral reader (correct me if i fuck it up)

mentions of y/n. literally once.

word count: 637

I WROTE THIS AT 2AM FORGIVE ANY MISTAKES OK GOODNIGHT

mike walked inside after his first shift at freddy’s, slightly rattled by the dream he had.. but glad to be home to finally get some freaking sleep.

when the door opened, he was BLESSED by the sight of you. abbys babysitter. if he had maybe a drop of self respect or confidence he could ask you out, maybe even date. but lets be honest hes a complete wuss and his best excuse is “not wanting to ruin the thing they had now” which was an occasional awkward exchange of the same 5 phrases such as “hello, good morning, how are you? im ok. how are you? good, hows abby? good. good.” and then a super awkward silence. but in the recent days, when he still worked at the mall he and you actually had nice conversations that didnt feel forced. mike had hope yet.

“hey, y/n.” he said as he put his keys down, observing abby as she swung her feet in excitement from the table, watching you as you made her pancakes.

“hi mike !” you say, turning to him slightly and cracking a smile before you looked away to put the pancakes on a plate and pass them to abby. luckily you looked away when you did because your eye contact was enough to make mike look like a tomato. “i hope you dont mind i made pancakes, if you want some, theres a little more i was gonna put away !” you said, reaching for a plate. “im ok, thanks. and dont worry about it.” he said, sitting next to abby who was looking between him and you, plotting an evil, DEVIOUS, horrid plan with a grin comparable to the cheshire cat. mike gave abby a terrified look as he began regretting even MENTIONING the idea of you in a romantic way to abby. he began mouthing pleads of her to show an ounce of mercy but she already turned to you and began to open her mouth.

“are you busy this weekend?” abby said while making direct eye contact with mike and snarfing down pancakes.

“uhm.. i dont think so? my only plans from now and the unforeseeable future is watching you so if your asking to hang out chances are ill be with you already, weirdo.” you said, as you begin washing up the dishes used to cook.

“not for me, silly! for mike!" she says innocently, batting her eyes and grinning like a madman to me.

god, ive never been more terrified by a fucking 10 year old. trying to brush off the comment of a date to a child, you piece together a response.

"uhh, if im babysitting you.. and its a weekend.. mike would be there too..!" you said awkwardly, trying to just scrub a damn pan.

"but, what if i was at a friends house?" abby added

"then i wouldnt be there." you say.

"but mikes so lonely..! he has so friends-" abby begins, before mike puts his hand on her mouth.

"abby, stop being weird- what the hell!" he says before being interrupted by abby licking his freaking hand.

"thats so unhygienic, dont do that." he says as abby giggles evilly, and you begin to speak.

"well if mikes sooo lonely, he can.. i don't know... just maybe.. ask? if i wanna hang out? because id.. say yes?" you say, looking at mike.

he blessed the skies above that you were actually confronting and he didn't have to face the awkward rejection that haunted him.

the kitchen was finally quiet for a moment, until abby break the silence.

"do it, do it, do it." she chants silently.

"would you.. wanna go out.. with me.?" mike said silently and awkwardly, cursing himself in his head for being so nervous when she literally confirmed she was down.

"sure, mike schmidt."

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fnaf #mike schmidt #fnaf mike #abby schmidt #spotify #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fanfic #babysitter au

[lokh]

#maybe laios has to have his own awakening <-- I'd be very much interested in hearing what that might look like to you 👀 Shuro pining and stressing over it is the easiest thing to imagine, but I struggle a bit with imagining what Laios' perspective on romance is and his romantic interest in general

OK SO....... realistically i think his view on romance in canon is probably closer to how even though we know his passion is monsters we KNOW he wants to eat monsters So Fucking bad...... his favorite food is still cheesecake. yknow?????? but it's not his Passion.... he mentions having a fiance (somewhat as a point of pride iirc?) but having to break it off when he left his hometown. if he Does experience romantic/sexual attraction then it's kind of secondary to everything else going on with him (see also the succubus thing)... ive always kind of assumed that for him, at the very least before ditching town, that getting married was just a thing you did (were supposed to do) and while he wasn't opposed to it, maybe even interested in it, clearly he doesn't seem to care enough to seek it out afterwards. AS an aroace person i want to believe he's on the aroace spectrum adfvccvvbhb..... aro spec non ace laios is interesting too though.....

BASICALLY it's not a huge concern of his BUT. the question of marriage and succession WILL come up post canon. unfortunately he might not be able to take such a lackadaisical attitude about Who he gets with now that he's such a big deal.... but then again, he's got that rebellious streak and seems pretty good at making situations work in his favor. like who's Really gonna be able to stop him if he decides he wants to marry some guy from the eastern archipelago......

I think he might need an awakening in the sense that taking the view that he's kind of assumed that marriage is just a thing that'll happen to him at some point, he's probably never considered getting with a guy. it's just never crossed his mind. but we know he's open minded and willing to take on-board new ideas...... its less a huge awakening than an Oh! i see i get it moment wjnshdhxbx. actually i can imagine the idea being floated to him and he kinda goes hmmmmmm i don't really get it (for me) but ok i guess. then someone going (perhaps out of pity for an already pining shuro) ok but now imagine you and shuro being that close and him going AH! now I get it.

we know that laios cares deeply about the people close to him but it's hard for us to imagine him romantically and that's probably true for the people around him also tbh. i think no matter how you spin it (that he's aroace but decides to have a relationship anyway, or that he does experience any attraction) that perception will always hold and there might be the concern of does he Really get it though irt a relationship (in this case laishuro). I also think that if he does decide on a relationship with someone he cares about that he WILL care deeply he just might not show it in like. any overtly romantic way...

i will say that part of that perception of him being incapable of romance and sexual attraction, im concerned is because of him also being well. pretty autistic lmao. which is obviously not fair. but romance has never been a huge focal point in dungeon meshi much the same way it isn't really for laios, but it's still there nonetheless....

it's possible also that he has a bigger interest in romance and sex than is apparent but because of how Social it is that he simply won't pursue it. he's aware of his lack of social ability and is pretty insular with his social group (iirc this is kabrus perception of him?) so I dont think it's unreasonable to believe he might have decided it wasn't worth the effort to seek it out. but with someone who's Already a friend and you've already made all the possible social gaffes with and they haven't left despite that..........

#THIS ENDED UP BEING LONG LMAO SORRY BUT I HAD THOUGHTS. MANY OF THEM #I HOPE THIS HELPED AKANBXHCJXNDNNDD. #ANON #ASK #DUNGEON MESHI #YES IM TAGGING SO I CAN FIND THIS AGAIN #but also so i can force people to see this. i guess. #dungeon meshi spoilers #also jic. cos of the. post canon stuff

[spacexseven]

hello its dazai anon I'm currently thinking about subordinate au dazai so here i go

ive been imagining that in the verison of events where dazai catches feelings for darling cuz they (despite the many many reasons they'd have to let him suffer and die) took care of him while he was injured, that dazai would be very interested in paying that forward at some point.

when dazai first finds out that his favorite subordinate is terribly sick or badly injured and is gonna be out for a while, his mind immediately jumps to how... nice it might be to take care of them. well, actually the first thing is mind jumps to is a million worse case scenarios where they die and hes alone for the rest of his life but once he recovers from THAT panic attack he moves on to nursing plans. hed probably think it's a foolproof plan for having darling finally start warming up to him (especially if chuuya has recently gained some ground in that area), i mean, he likes YOU cuz you take care of him, it only makes sense that youd start liking him for the same reason! also he just... REALLY enjoys the thought of being your nurse. 1) since you're sick/in pain if he decides he wants to ask you a million questions or make you play games with him or kiss you a thousand times you can't run away 2) isn't it kind of. domestic? to take care of someone like that? he can almost pretend the two of you are actually together when he does this.

I should note that dazai isn't like. a medical expert or anything of that sort BUT since he has (mostly) good intentions in this escapade hed be willing to listen to advice from others or direct requests from you. except asking him to leave or get off you he won't ever do that but most other things. also he's still. dazai while this is going on so expect a lot of needless mockery about how weak and useless you are, but then in the same timeframe thinking about what might happen if you die and clinging onto you in complete hysterics. frankly hes just making everything worse all the time but thats dazai!

- 🩹

i couldnt take myself seriously while writing this T^T

when you don't show up for your usual shift with dazai, he's already on edge. he immediately thinks that you must be avoiding him—or that chuuya must have charmed you away with the promise of a day with no dazai. was it because of the time he hung you upside down? that was eons ago and hadn't he already made up for it with the numerous fun (dangerous) and exciting (life-threatening) adventures (escaping from yet another person dazai angered) he's taken you on?

but then he sees chuuya walking around on his own, and you don't show up again the next day, and now he's sure that something was very wrong. which is why, his first response was to show up at your door. maybe, if you were able to answer the door, you'd be terrified at the sight of dazai with his face pressed up to the window desperate for any sight of you, but as you were now, you were far too exhausted to even receive him, so naturally, after numerous attempts at slamming the doorbell, he let himself in.

the sight of you, so tired and incoherent, surrounded by tissues and water bottles, initially made him let out a huge sigh in relief. you weren't avoiding him! you were just bedridden—wait, was that because he insisted you help him find his wallet in the river the night before? was it his fault you were ill?

after the initial guilt, dazai jumps into action. you, as tired as you were, couldn't provide any more protest apart from a few grumbling words at the sight of dazai rummaging in your home, but he was unbothered, dedicated to his new temporary position as your personal nurse.

dazai wasn't too unfamiliar with runny noses and sore throats. for the most part, he was sure you weren't dying and he was somewhat confident in his ability to nurse you back to health. and surprisingly, you didn't seem too mad at his presence, begrudgingly allowing him to spoonfeed you soup that was far too salty.

honestly, this experience made him a little nostalgic, thinking back to oda taking care of him after their first encounter. but also, you were surprisingly quiet when you were sick, not the same silent anger you normally radiated, but just quiet. he didn't mind it all that much, though, since the first night he stayed over, you were so deliriously ill that he definitely took advantage of your state and asked you all sorts of questions that you'd normally ignore. half your answers didn't really make sense, but they served to be pretty entertaining deciphering games when you were fast asleep and he was bored.

the real fun only started when you started getting better. for one, you looked horrified at the sight of him prancing around in your apron and messing with your kitchen, but because you were able to answer him coherently, it was all the more entertaining. while waiting for your water to boil, dazai would offer to read your journal out loud, sing you a lullaby in the middle of the day, and even dare to ask if a kiss would make you feel better. and then he'd provide commentary on every object in your home.

the ease with which he navigated your home and the familiarity with which he handled your things did send some alarms blaring in your head, but what could you do in your current state?

any attempts at protesting his presence are fruitless. even if you claimed he might get sick from hanging around you, dazai would only laugh.

"i'm not as weak as you," he'd say, "i won't get sick. and if i wasn't here you'd probably be dead by now. besides, if i get sick, guess who'd going to have to come to take care of me?"

somewhere during his response, dazai managed to stick himself closer to you, a hand wiping at your clammy forehead. if at all you seemed to not get better, dazai immediately jumps to threatening you, saying that if you didn't get better, if you died on him, he'd never forgive you, promising to make sure that your ghost will be stuck with him. and that's about the best incentive to get better.

#ask 🐟 #anon 🐟 #dazai 🩹 🐟 #dazai 🐟 #drabble 🐟 #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai #yandere dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #subordinate au 🐟

[intoanotherworld23]

Love On Camera IV

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, there is mild smut in this chapter there’s dirty talk, and lots of dry humping and thoughts of sex

Summary: You had always wanted to become a famous actress one day, you just never thought it would be as an adult film actress, and your first movie happens to be with the devastatingly handsome Chris Evans

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal my work or publish it as your own or I will have you reported✨

Part 3 Part 5

Scrambling around in the kitchen as you tried to prepare a nice meal for you and Chris. Extremely nervous to have him over, and to think this was somewhat of a date.

Making sure your makeup and hair looked good enough for him. Wanting nothing more to impress this man, and make him fall head over heels for you. Although that seemed like a dream you still couldn't help but hope for a romance to blossom.

Stirring the chicken around in the sauce before placing them on a big plate. Shuffling the rice as you sprinkled some spices on top of it. The aroma of the different scents hitting your nose making your mouth water.

Just then a knock came from the front door making you jump. Straightening your outfit out which was extremely casual and comfy since the two of you weren't actually going anywhere.

Opening the door to see Chris's smiling face as he wore a white knit sweater, and dark blue jeans. His hair perfectly slicked back making you want to run your fingers through it. It was crazy how hot this man could be easily make you.

"Welcome." You greeted as you opened the door wider indicating for him to walk inside. "Perfect timing the food is ready."

"Smells amazing." He complimented as he sniffed around the kitchen. "Turn on for me when a woman can cook."

"Thanks to all those cooking shows I watched." Scooping up the rice and putting it on each of your plates.

Once you had the plates smothered with food you placed them on either side of the table. Chris took his spot licking his lips as he looked at all the food in front of him.

"Would you like something to drink?" Asking he you opened up the cabinet to your liquor bottles.

"I'll take some red wine if you have it." Grabbing a bottle you filled a glass for him and yourself. "Thanks."

As the two of you sat in peace eating your meal you started to feel a sense of calm. Nothing felt awkward or uncomfortable. Things felt right between the two of you like this is how it was meant to be.

Making small talk in between mouthfuls of food. Cracking up a couple of jokes making you laugh trying not to spray wine across the table. It was obvious he felt comfortable being around you.

A part of you was hoping after tonight this would become a daily thing. That he would want to start seeing you outside of work more. Or that the two of you would quit the adult film industry, and pursue another way to make money.

"The food was absolutely delicious." He spoke after he placed his knife and fork on the plate. "I'll have to come over more often."

"I would absolutely love that." Sounding a little more excited than you intended. "I mean sounds wonderful."

"Are you okay?" He asked out of blue knowing he was referring to earlier. "I mean after your session with Johnny."

"Yeah I'm okay." Nodding your head as you looked down at your hands in your lap. "I'm not used to stuff like that, but I'm really okay."

"Good because you and I are going to really start drinking." He clapped his hands together as he walked over to your liquor cabinet.

Grabbing a bottle of tequila as he walked over to you with a mischievous grin. Sheepishly smiling back at him as your mind was starting to race. Surely this night was going to end in something happening between you two.

"Cheers." Clinking your shot glasses together before he downed the liquid. He made it look so easy.

Quickly downing yours feeling the burn running down your throat. Scrunching you're face up making him chuckle at you. You were never one to handle your liquor that well.

He was quick to pouring another one and this time you took it at the same time he did. His eyes were glued to yours the whole time making you feel a little flustered. Your cheeks felt enflamed right now from his intense stares.

"Let's play a game." He spoke after you both downed your fourth shot you glanced over to him. Shrugging his shoulders at the suggestion. "Could be a way for us to get to know each other."

"Why the fuck not." You don't if that was more of a question or statement. "What game did you have in mind?"

"How about twenty questions?" He suggested and you thought to yourself that was a simple and harmless game.

"Yeah sure." He beamed when you approved of the game. "How do you play again?"

"I'll ask you a question and then you ask me a question." That seemed simple enough. "But if you refuse to answer a question you have to take a shot."

You knew this wasn't going to be a simple game. It seemed like he had a hidden agenda behind everything. Maybe he really did just want to get to know you or see what kind of person you were. Knowing him so far things were going to become dirty.

Hearing the rules you downed your fifth shot of the night. The buzz was already taking in affect, and he could tell. He just laughed at how much of a risk taker you were trying to be right now. All you wanted was fun tonight, and he was going to give that to you.

"I'll go first." He stated and you just nodded sitting back nervous as hell. "What's your favorite color?"

"Uh it's Y/F/C." His question threw you off you expected him to go with something dirty. "What's your favorite animal?"

"Wolf." That answer didn't surprise you what so ever." What's your favorite movie?"

"Y/F/M." These questions were easier than you expected them to be." What's your favorite movie?"

"Lady and the tramp." You looked at him like he had grown two heads and started to laugh. You never expected that to be his answer.

"Really?" It really did come as a surprise that such a heart felt movie could possibly be his favorite.

"Shut up I like Disney movies." This time he started to laugh with you. He playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh even harder.

"Wow how manly of you." Puffing out your chest and striking arm poses like a body builder. He just shook his head at you to which you stopped laughing. "I promise I won't say anything scouts honor."

"Alright you little shit let's keep playing." He downed a quick shot. "What's your favorite hobby?"

"I like to read." Feeling embarrassed by your answer but he seemed to like it since he smiled. "If you could live anywhere where would it be?"

"I would have to say Paris. The most beautiful city in the world." That sounded absolutely romantic and you weren't expecting that. "Do you masturbate?"

If your cheeks weren't on fire before they were now. He just sat there with a smug grin on his face. He had you right where he wanted you. This is was the game he actually wanted to play with you. Otherwise how could these questions go from innocent to dirty.

You really shouldn't be shy when he asked this question. The two of you fucked people for a living in front of multiple people. If anything you would have no hesitation to answer these type of questions.

He was staring at you so intensely right now you just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. You were kind of drunk right now, and somewhat turned on by his question.

"Yeah I do." You answered honestly thanks to the five shots that were now hitting you. "Do you use handcuffs?"

"Yes I do." He winked at you making you take another shot. The room was getting hotter all of a sudden. "Do you like to be spanked?"

"No." He looked shocked at your response making you look down at your now clammy hands. "I mean yeah I do."

"I could always spank you." He remarked making your eyes go wide making him laugh. "Don't worry I won't do that to you."

Not understanding why suddenly you were cowering in a shell around him. It was something about him that had you feeling shy and innocent. You wanted to impress and attract him so he would want you back.

"I mean unless you really want me to?" He started to lift his hips up like he was about to approach you making you gulp.

"No I'm good." You answered rather quickly making him smirk at how he got to you.

It seemed like the room was getting smaller and smaller. The longer you looked at him the more you started to realize just how beautiful this man really was. He had such soft looking skin with a little bit of scruff across his chin.

His eyes were like a light blue with a hint of green. It reminded you very much of the ocean. Eye lashes so thick he could blow you away with them. Small freckles sprinkled across his face giving him more of an innocent and sweet appearance.

Chris coughed breaking you from your trance of staring at him like a weirdo. Looking away from him wanting to avoid the judgement he probably had across his face of you basically checking him out.

"Okay my turn what's your favorite position?" You wanted to cover your face but frayed from doing that.

"When a girl is riding me cow girl." That had your heart beating faster, and you clenching your thighs together. All you could picture was doing that with him.

"Are you picturing doing that with me right now?" A huge smirk across his face as he was looking into your eyes.

"Yes." Slapping a hand over your mouth with how quickly you answered that. You just wanted to get the attention off of you as soon as possible. "Do you watch porn?"

Instead of answering the question Chris reached across grabbing you pulling you onto his lap making you squeal. Your hands landed on his shoulders to keep yourself balanced. Legs on either side of his, and your chest practically in his face.

Both of you staring into each other's eyes, and there was clear sexual tension between you two. His hands on your hips that started to make your body move against his. Taking the hint that he wanted you to start grinding against him.

"Don't get shy on me now Y/N." He shook his head at you teasingly with a smile. "Show me what a vixen you really are."

Slowly moving your hips against him feeling him harden beneath you. His eyes were glazed over and all you could see was hunger and lust. Your panties were starting to become wet with desire. The fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit making you moan.

"Yes baby moan for me." He groaned in your ear as his hands squeezed the skin on your hips. He was probably trying to control himself, and not completely take over scaring you.

Although you would have no problem with him taking over you completely. Your insides clenching at the thought of riding his cock right now. Feeling him slam his hips up into you hitting your pelvis.

This felt like such an intimate moment right now. Something that a couple would be doing to keep that spice in their relationship. It felt like you two were the only people in this world, and nothing was coming between you two.

"The things I wanna do to you." He growled he watched your hips moving against his lap. "To have you all night."

"Begging for my cock until your in tears." The thought of crying just for his cock had you whimpering.

Feeling the liquor completely take over your body you started to really grind against him. Pressing down harder on his crotch so it was his turn to moan this time. Leaning his head against your shoulder the faster you started to hump him.

"Oh god." You moaned when the pressure of your clothes and his jeans pressing against your clit made your lower stomach tingle.

"I want you to cum at the thought of my cock going inside your pussy." His words had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Just feel me baby."

His words encouraging you a lot more than you were expecting them to. Between his hands, his dirty words being whispered into your ear, and his extremely hard cock pressed against your crotch you were probably going to cum sooner than you thought.

Your hips moving in a way almost as if you were really fucking him. Both of your moans filling the room making it echo. Thank god you didn't have any roommates or else this would have been incredibly awkward.

"Bet your pussy is soaked for me." Feeling a shudder rack his body at the thought of feeling you in this moment. "Tight little pussy sucking me in."

His lips attaching themselves to your neck sucking on the flesh lightly. The blood rising to the surface of your skin. He was probably leaving his mark.

"Just like that sweetheart." Feeling his hands gripping your hips tightly surely leaving a bruise. "God I wanna fuck you so bad."

"I know you're getting closer sweetheart." He mumbled against your neck. Sweat forming on his forehead, and on the back of your neck.

"I want to feel your cock." You have no idea where this horny girl came from, but you surely were enjoying her.

You were never the type of woman to become this horny. It was different being horny for work, but to be this way in real life was a whole new person. Intimacy was not something you were used to. It was rough sex you were used to.

"I know baby next time right now you need to focus on you." Hearing that encouraged you to move faster.

You probably looked like a mad woman the way you were moving on top of him. Grinding your body against his like an animal in heat. Rushing to reach your release and using his body to get to it. Neither of you cared though since you were both feeling good at this moment.

It felt like you were living in a fantasy right now. Grinding heavily on top of a man that was way too attractive for you. Maybe it was the liquor and it was just making you two horny. Or maybe it was true feelings that were coming to light.

Either way all you could do was bask in the moment right now. Having been a long time since anyone has touched you like this. It felt nice to be touched like this, and it felt nice to be wanted and feel attractive.

At one point you were just straight up teasing him. You would slow your movements then by lifting your hips up and slamming down on his crotch making him growl. He gave you a couple spanks on your ass cheeks making you squeal.

"Watch it darling." Making you look into his eyes giving you a warning. "I will bend you over my lap and slap that ass till you feel it into next week."

By the look on his face you knew he wasn't joking, and you could tell he wanted you to try and do it again and test him. The thought of bending you over his lap got him all excited again.

He did seem like the type of guy who loved to punish his girl by spanking her, and than rubbing her cheeks soothingly with ointment. Everything about him scream physical touch and affection. Like he wanted rough sex, but then he would spoil you after.

Breathing heavily on the top of his head as you felt that familiar burn in the pit of your stomach. Your head falling back the closer to your orgasm you were getting. Chris was close to when you felt his cock twitch under neath his pants.

"Cum for me sweetheart." That was all it took for you pushing hard down on him your sensitive clit becoming over loaded. Your release hitting you hard and fast.

Both of you moaning and groaning at the fact you just came in your shorts from dry humping him. Leaving your head down so your face was pressed against his shoulder. His hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, and you were still coming down from your orgasm.

You just sat on his lap feeling yourself becoming tired from what just took place. Still breathing heavily the amount of alcohol you consumed in a short amount of time was not helping either.

In this moment alcohol or not you really could stay in Chris's arms forever. It was just something about him that you couldn't wrap your mind around. You wanted to be around him all the time.

You just couldn't believe all that happened. Feeling your sensations heightened, and you just wanted more of him. Just praying and hoping that nobody ever found out ,and that it wouldn't come between your work and friendship.

"We should get you to bed." You just nodded your head already feeling your eyes closing.

Instead of lifting you off of him he somehow moved yours and his body so he was still holding you when he stood up. Carrying you to your bedroom bridal style. It was the most sweetest most romantic thing a man has ever done for you.

Placing you under the covers then pulling them up towards your neck making sure you were comfortable. He gave you a peck on the forehead making you shut your eyes with a smile.

"Stay." You whispered when he started to walk away.

Looking and sounding like a lost puppy dog. You probably looked pathetic to him, but you didn't want to be left alone right now. Plus all you wanted was for Chris to hold you in his arms all night.

"Alright lady but just for tonight." He referenced to the lady and tramp scene making you snicker.

Pulling his jeans down but leaving his boxers on so he could get comfortable. Then pulling the covers back so he could get into bed. Thinking that he was going to stay away, but surprising you when he pulled your body flush against his so you were spooning with him.

His strong arms wrapped around your body keeping you close and warm. Snuggling his face into your shoulder leaving light kisses against the skin. Your heart was practically swooning and how cute he was being with you right now.

"Good night beautiful." Was the last thing you heard before you felt the slumber or darkness consume your body.

#Chris Evans #Chris Evans smut #Chris Evans imagines #Chris Evans fic #Chris Evans fanfiction #Chris Evans series #Chris evans x reader

[bookish-whore]

Falling Part V

Azriel x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: slight self-destructive behavior, angst, Azriel being a dumb male

A/N: Not gonna lie guys when I initially wrote this chapter, I had the worst writers block and I ended up deleting it all last night and starting it over (which produced this) but I am so excited with where its headed. This chapter is somewhat filler content, but I promise I am putting some things into motion for later! I know I write this literally every fic, but I appreciate you all so much for loving this story and I am so overwhelmed with the support it has gotten. My requests are open so feel free to send all the asks <3

Also, I am almost at 400 followers WHAT?! And I think I’ll do a little personal Q&A or something so you guys can get to know me a little bit <3 I’ll update you in a post soon!

Previous parts here -> Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV

--------------------------------------------------

Last night seemed like a dream.

I woke up to bright light streaming through my window, my indication that the sun was already high in the sky. I guess I had slept far longer than I meant to. I stretch out my limbs, the events of last night returning to my memory as I looked at my night table where I had conveniently placed Iremia. I remembered then that it was real. Azriel and Elain were engaged. Engaged. I bring my hands to rub the sleep from my eyes, dragging them down my face and letting out a sigh. I could stay in bed all day and wallow in self-pity, but I decided that I wouldn’t continue to let them have so much control over my life, I would continue to heed Nesta and Lucien’s advice. With that decided, I take a quick bath and get dressed before heading to the dining room to find something to eat.

I entered the room surprised to find Nesta sitting in her usual position, Cassian next to her holding her hand and rubbing gentle circles along the back of it while they spoke.

“Good morning” I announce as I take my seat across from them

“Morning y/n” Cassian says while piling more food onto his plate

“So?” Nesta asked as I piled eggs, bacon, and bread with jam on my plate.

“So?” I repeat back to her, I know that she wants details about last night but I’m going to at least make her be direct about it.

“How did it go?” She clarifies, at this Cassian looks between the two of us clearly also wanting to hear the details.

“I couldn’t do it Nes, not after the announcement” she rolled her eyes but let me continue “It’s just the timing didn’t seem right, and I know I know you’re going to say the timing will never be right, but Nes you didn’t see him. He looked so happy, so carefree, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it by dropping this bombshell on him.”

“Look y/n, I love you and I will support you with whatever you decide to do.”

“I feel like a -but- is coming” I interject

“but-” she continues with one of her signature looks. “Don’t you think it would be worse to wait? That it will only be a bigger deal if they actually go through with getting married? Maybe it would hurt everyone involved less if you told them before planning and preparations are made? I mean he deserves to make an informed decision about what to do about the bond”

“I don’t know Nes.” I look to Cassian who is silently eating his breakfast “wait a second- what do you mean actually go through with getting married? Do you think they won’t go through with it?”

“All I know is that Feyre and Rhys are preparing for the worst-case scenario. I mean she is a mated female and if Lucien wanted to, he could invoke a blood duel as per Autumn Court tradition. Not to mention tension among the courts is still fragile after the treaty business last year.”

“Lucien wouldn’t do that; he doesn’t see mated females as his property in that way.” I said “Also, he isn’t technically an Autumn Court male anymore. He is the high lord apparent of the Day Court.”

“Regardless of his court standing, he is still her mate. He also has the strongest of relationships with the human realm and I don’t know if Rhys and Feyre are prepared to lose an asset like him due to Elain’s need to rebel.” She said matter of factly.

“What do you think Cass?” I asked the male.

He went still a moment, his brows furrowing as though he was debating what exactly to say in this situation. “I think that Nes has a point, I mean the longer you wait the more people may get hurt by the news and I think that he deserves to know; he has been infatuated with the idea of mates since we were younger and I don’t know what changed his mind, but I think he is just looking for commitment and Elain is looking to rebel, and they just found each other. I also stand by my previous statement during training, I love him dearly, he is my brother, but gods damn is he an idiot sometimes.”

I can’t help but laugh at his statement. “I’ll consider it” I look between the two of them “I promise I will think about it, and I’ll talk to Rhys and Feyre to see what they think.”

The couple nodded as we continued with breakfast. We switched the conversation to training and general news. Once we had finished, we went our separate ways. I thought a lot about what they had said and sent a note to find the high lord and lady and ask for their advice with this whole thing. I immediately got a response that appeared in Rhysand’s elegant script offering to winnow me to the River House this afternoon to meet them in his office. I immediately accepted sending the magical paper back to its sender and decided to indulge myself in a book until the meeting time.

--------------------------------------------------

I hadn’t realized how many hours had passed until the high lord materialized in the library. I put my book on a nearby table and offered a simple greeting. Rhys held out his arm which I took without hesitation, the familiar pulling sensation taking over as we winnowed directly to the high lord’s office. When we arrived, I turned to find Feyre entering the room with Nyx. The little prince reaching his arms out. I hadn’t noticed before, but his wings were getting stronger, and he was gaining some control over them as he flapped them in an attempt to launch himself into his father’s waiting arms.

“Hey y/n” the high lady said handing Nyx to her mate who beamed at the boy now securely in his embrace.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure” Rhysand asked, Feyre simply nodded in agreement.

“Well, you know that I love you both, and that I value your opinion.” The two nodded listening intently “After Solstice, after the engagement, I think I am just looking for some advice about what to do about Azriel. You know whether I should still tell him about the bond or just leave it alone. I talked to Cassian and Nesta earlier and now I’m asking you what you think.”

The two look at each other, silently communicating as they tended to do. Feyre was the one to speak “You know I love my family; I love both of my sisters but there are just so many logistics involved with this whole union. I mean you are Azriel’s mate whether you tell him and whether or not he accepts it and the same goes for Elain, she is welcome to reject the bond with Lucien but to me it seems like she is just running away from the idea altogether.” She took a breath “and Lucien, I mean he is not only my friend but also an ally of this court and he has every right to invoke the blood duel should he want to. its just spiraled, the whole thing from a harmless flirtation to a disaster.” She looked at her mate who gave her a nod of approval.

“Look you two, I don’t know where this idea came from that Lucien is going to challenge Az but he isn’t an Autumn Court male anymore and finds the blood duel repulsive and when has he given any indication that he would do something like that. When he got to the night court, he let Elain have her space and he hasn’t pushed the bond on her. He’s never tried to force anything on her, and he wouldn’t now just because they are engaged.”

“You have a valid point” Feyre said “But the whole reason you came here was to ask our opinion on your situation. I think both Rhys and I agree that you should still tell him. I mean had he not proposed, you would have told him at the solstice party. We think that he deserves to have all the information before he makes a big decision like this, like marriage.”

I nod my head as she speaks, her words echoing that of Cassian and Nesta’s from this morning. “I guess I have a lot to think about”

“Look, no matter what happens just know we are here for you to help you through this” Rhysand says breaking his silence.

“I’m scared” I admit to them

“Well look at it this way” Feyre begins “at least you will be the one to tell him and not a Suriel” she gives Rhys a mischievous look as he grins

“I was going to tell you…eventually” he said “The Suriel just got to you first AND I was gravely injured if you recall”

Feyre let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to his lips and to Nyx’s forehead. “I think it is all going to work out y/n”

I let out a long breath “Okay, well now that that is settled, hand me that baby because I need time with my nephew”

Rhys grins handing Nyx to me, I bounce the babe on my knees and enjoy some family time with the three of them for the remainder of the night.

--------------------------------------------------

It had been a month since my conversations with Nesta and Feyre about what to do and I was still no closer to a decision. I had even gone as far as making pro and con lists which were scattered across my desk with various reasons why I should tell him, and why I shouldn’t. Reason number one being that they seemed so happy. Just yesterday they had announced that they intended to marry a week after Starfall, which was only a few months away.

I continued thinking about my reasons as I got ready for the day. I was going to be helping Gwyn with research in the library today. I had to admit I was excited to spend the day surrounded by books and to be around Gwyn, I had been so busy with the new developments with Azriel that I had neglected time with my friend, and I intended to make up for it.

I was putting on my shoes in a chair in the corner of my bedroom when I heard a rustling on my desk. I looked over as a letter appeared on top of a pile of other correspondence, my name scrawled across the front with handwriting I immediately recognized. I jumped up from my position taking the letter in my hands as I tore open the envelope and couldn’t help the smile on my face as I read it.

My Dearest Y/N,

I hope you are doing well. I have found myself missing your company in the past weeks since my relocation to my father’s court. I have been keeping busy, learning the history of the court, and enjoying the vast library, it really is unmatched. I think you would love it. No, I know you would love it here. Anyways, what updates do you have from the Night Court? I take it everyone is well. I’m sure it has been hard on you these weeks since the engagement and I want to remind you that you have a friend, a friend who happens to know exactly what you’re going through and one that has come to care greatly for you. please remember that you always have a place in my court should you need to escape.

Yours,

Lucien

I made myself a mental note to send a response as I checked the time realizing I was late and made my way downstairs to the library.

I was immediately greeted by Gwyn, the red head smiling at me in one of her big genuine smiles, her eyes sparkling with the gesture, and she pulled me into a tight hug. “Oh, I have missed you so much y/n” she says

“I missed you too Gwyn”

“Okay you have so much to catch me up on” she says practically bouncing with excitement over our girl talk today which we did between tasks for Clotho and finding some research for another priestess Gwyn is helping. I told her everything, I needed another opinion about what to do from someone not currently in a mating bond. Someone who might understand my reservations a little better.

“How do you feel about it all?” she asks as we work on reshelving books in the lower levels.

“I feel…” I take a breath “I don’t know I guess I feel conflicted, on one hand I want him to know maybe for my own benefit, but I mean is it fair of me to just make this choice for him? What if he feels like Elain? Like the bond is a burden he wants to run from? I don’t know if I can deal with that kind of rejection. On the other hand, I don’t tell him and continue my life like it is now and let him continue his life that he chose with Elain but what if one day it snaps for him and he wants to explore it, but they have a life, maybe a family? I am just confused and scared, and I don’t know what to do. The consensus has been that I need to tell him and that’s what I am leaning towards, but I just don’t know Gwyn.”

“I think that the only person who can decide what to do is you.” the priestess says “I mean you get all this advice about what’s fair for him. But what is fair to you?”

I was pondering over her words when suddenly a note materialized on the cart. I recognized the script immediately and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

Meet me on the roof

-Az

“What do you think he wants?” I ask

“Only one way to find out” she says “I think you should figure out what you want y/n, I think you two should figure out if you’re even compatible before you decide. Maybe spend time with him without the influence of other people, just you two to see how you interact. Maybe it’ll help you to make your decision. Remember that mating bonds were initially put in place by the mother for prime breeding benefits, we live in a modern world and maybe it’s an antiquated concept now”

“Thanks Gwyn” I said pulling the female into another hug “I guess I have somewhere to be”

“Good luck” she says disappearing behind a bookshelf, continuing with her work. I take a deep breath and make my way upstairs.

--------------------------------------------------

I couldn’t help the thoughts running through my head as I made my way up to the roof, the most dominant one being what If he knows. I try to not look concerned as I open the door, the sunlight catching me off guard for a moment as I make out his figure in our usual spot, sitting on the edge of the roof with his legs dangling over the side. His wings looking powerful and poised behind him.

His shadows immediately slither over to greet me, as they do, he turns from his position to look at me approaching. “Hey y/n” he says patting the empty space next to him.

I carefully set myself down beside him, hoping he can’t hear how loud my heart is beating. After a moment of silence, I manage to say “So, why did you ask me here?”

“To be honest…I’m not really sure” He says “I feel like you are one of the only people I can really talk to you know. The others, I love them, and they are my family, but I know they don’t approve of me right now.”

“Don’t approve of you why?”

“I know they have reservations about me and Elain. I mean months ago Rhys cornered me in his office and basically told me to stay away from her, and now we’re engaged. I know he and Feyre are probably figuring out the logistics of it all, you know because she is mated to Lucien.”

“I may have heard something like that from them.” I say “Can I just ask you why, if you know how your family feels and you have these reservations then why go through it”

“I think I’m in love with her”

“This seems like a lot of trouble for you think, I mean if you are going to vow to spend your life with someone shouldn’t you know you love them?” I asked him.

“I think that conversation we had a few weeks ago has really stuck with me, you know about mates. I can’t help but feel nostalgic. I spent hundreds of years certain I would find my mate and then I gave up on it and decided to try things with Elain and maybe I feel guilty. Because if I were in Lucien’s position, I would hate the male and I would be in absolute hell watching my mate fall in love with and intend to marry someone else.”

“I know Lucien doesn’t hate you, he may dislike you because of his instincts but he trusts Elain to make her own decisions. He would never force her to accept the bond or choose him unless it is what she truly wanted.”

“You talk with Lucien?” he asks, looking over at me, his eyes meeting mine.

“Of course, I mean we’re friends and have been for some time now”

“I guess I didn’t notice”

“There are a lot of things you don’t notice” I say quietly under my breath.

“What was that?” he asks

“Oh nothing” I reply, “but Az if you feel guilty you can pull out you know. You don’t have to go through with any of this if you feel that way.”

“I know, its just” he pauses taking a deep breath “I don’t think anyone else would love me, maybe this is it. Maybe this is my one chance at some kind of happiness”

“I don’t think the universe works that way Az” he looks at me “Besides there are plenty of people who love you, myself included”

“I know that y/n, I just feel like I’m making a huge mistake, every instinct is screaming that this is wrong, and I can’t shake it.”

“I should give you Iremia, seems like you could use the tranquility” I say jokingly

“That’s what you named it? The dagger?” he asked

I nod my head in confirmation “Yeah, I figured I could use a little calm in my life so why not”

“It’s a great name” he says.

“Look Az, maybe you should call off the wedding if you are having these doubts. No one would blame you for taking the time to think about it, this is the rest of your life you are talking about, and you should be sure you want to spend it with Elain. Especially if you’re having such strong doubts.”

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone” he says softly

“I know the feeling” I say bringing my eyes down to look at my hands.

“Y/n?” he says my name softly, almost a whisper and I turn my head to face him. He is looking at me and his eyes met mine, and I noticed them drift lower before his gaze is resting on my lips. My breath became caught in my throat. Was he going to kiss me? I thought as his mouth parted slightly, his breath becoming uneven as he began to lean into me.

“Az?” A soft voice said interrupting the moment.

“Elain” he said quickly, practically jumping away from me and making his way over to her placing a kiss to her temple “What are you doing up here?” he asked her.

“We have dinner plans…remember?” she replied, “I figured I would save you a trip by coming here.” She looked over at me, I was rising from the mat “Hello y/n” she said politely

I immediately felt embarrassed and fought the redness rising on my face as I gave her a nonchalant greeting back.

“Thanks for the talk y/n” Azriel says “I’ll see you in training tomorrow”

I give them both a small smile as they depart his shadows swirling as he winnows them away. The conversation runs over again in my head. Did he suspect something? Was he going to kiss me? Would I have let him?

I make my way downstairs to my room to change before dinner with the Inner Circle, minus Elain and Azriel who apparently had other plans for the evening. My thoughts no clearer than they were this morning.

--------------------------------------------------

Once bathed and changed I made it to the dining room to find it already full of people. Nesta and Cass were in their usual seats as were Feyre, Rhys, Nyx, Mor, and even Amren to my surprise. I took up my seat across from Nesta and began to fill my plate.

The conversation was normal, mostly updates about Nyx and about the Valkyries training about new developments in the Hewn city and general news. Until Feyre cleared her throat drawing my attention. “So, y/n, what is new on the Azriel front?” she tried to sound nonchalant about it, but the air was thick with tension.

“Here we go” I said rolling my eyes as I prepared for the same speech I had gotten for weeks from them about how I needed to do the right thing and tell him and basically just get it over with.

“Clearly you have all made your opinions on the matter known. So why don’t you all just tell me what to do.” I look around the room meeting their gaze, my tone elevating as I continued “If anyone has an idea of how I should better deal with this please let me know because I feel like I am losing my mind.” My voice breaks but I take a deep breath and continue. “I know what you all think about it, but it isn’t your decision to make. If and when I tell him about this it will be on MY terms.”

“We just want to help you” Feyre says softly.

“As if any of you can help me, as if any of you can fathom what it’s like. Except you Rhys, but only briefly because it worked out in your favor. What would you all suggest I do hmm? Oh, wait you have all already told me what you think. Why do I need to rush and make a decision like this just because you all have an opinion about it?”

“y/n-” Nesta begins, but I cut her off.

“Because on one hand, I tell him about the bond and ruin any chance of happiness he has built for himself. On the other I don’t say a word, and one day the bond may snap for him, and he resents me for not telling him. Oh, and not to mention the other important piece here, Elain. You all would have me be the villain that steps in to ruin her wedding, to ruin a choice she made, a choice they both made. I can’t do that. No, actually I won’t do that.”

“But y/n-” Cassian began

“There is no but, that is all there is to it Cass. Either way I lose” the others look down at their hands, mulling over what I said.

“I’m going to bed” I announce, getting up from the table and making my way to my bedroom. I hear their hushed voices arguing as I make my way up the stairs, I do my best to block it out.

Once making it to my room, I close the door softly behind me and make my way to my desk. I take deep steadying breaths trying to ignore the feeling of being suffocated, of being forced into something so serious. I turn my head and catch a glimpse of Lucien’s last letter. I look it over again, suddenly getting an idea.

I grab a piece of parchment, and a pen and scrawl out a quick reply before losing my nerve.

Dearest Lucien,

I am doubtful of my ability to remain here surrounded by happy mated couples. Watching Elain and Azriel plan their wedding is torture. Getting advice from people who know nothing of what I am going through is torture and to be honest I miss you more than I can express. So, how soon can I visit? I feel that some time away would do me good. I need to figure out what my life is without him, who I am without him. Perhaps you can help with that.

Yours,

Y/N

Next Chapter ->

--------------------------------------------------

If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!

--------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @moonfawnx @we-were-beautiful @96jnie @frgman-sins @fromdelos @goldentournesol @ruler-of-hades @mrs-azriel @feyretopia @starlit-terror @daily-dose-of-sass @mulansaucey @owllover123 @redbleedingrose @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @luna-1-3-5 @marigold-morelli @topaz125 @aelinismyqueen @elizarikaallen @clueless-gold @starrstrucked @em---r @satellitesunshine @bankerfrog @strawbwebbie @morks-watermelon @kristalhi @lolabell0556 @intrxde @aubreylovesthegames @xxoverthinkerxx @caosfanblr @mis-lil-red @haswellington @wolfyland07 @answer-the-sirens @kaz-2y567 @marssssaturn @judig92 @esposadomd @violet-shadows @meghan52300 @biblophilefox82 @issybee0611 @writingsbychlo

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #cassian x nesta #lucien x reader #feyre x rhysand #falling #bookish-whore

[gaylordscooter]

Log of the Multiverse: Nightmare

hoo boy i got shivers just writing down their name.

i'm doing their entry before dream's because, like ink, i'll let him write his own. too bad he's so incredibly busy all the time

now nightmare, his brother, the guardian of negativity. they're terrifying. i can't believe they're dream's twin. they hardly even look like a skeleton.

Thankfully they're nowhere NEAR as active as Dream is. in fact, it's a rare sight to see them for the average person. unfortunately i'm with a group of loony people that happen to be the only people nightmare would seek out from time to time.

i actually got a sticky note i wrote on after i encountered them for the first time

[there's a somewhat crumpled sticky note taped on, it reads:

their touch hurts, presumably because of the goop (speaking of goop. no idea what it's made out of). reminds me of the time i spilt hydrochloric acid on my foot on accident. however, it doesn't actually leave a wound or lasting pain, like touching fire without getting burned

you’ll know they're near when you get a heavy feeling in your soul, similar to blue magic but if it hated you.

negative feelings fuel them. it’s like their food. would being happy drive them away?

they don't kill as long as they find you useful apparently im “a cesspool of anxiety and guilt that provides a plentiful amount of energy”. i hope they choke on my feelings.]

i forgot about that last bit. moving on

they've caused quite a bit of commotion back in their peak. they were on par with error in terms of disturbing universes. they just had. different methods (such as, killing loved ones in front of people, making people live out their worst fears, spilling people's very important secrets, manipulating people who are close to hate each other, ruining the happy endings of many universes) they're a lot more sadistic than error. i suppose that makes sense. they ARE the guardian of negativity.

now i was still in my universe while that was happening, i'm just paraphrasing what ink told me.

and then they just suddenly cut back. they stopped doing all of that.

ink expected this, obviously. he knew how their script goes. (of course he cant TELL me what happens in his script. he can only drop hints and even then he tries not to, to play it safe)

what i do know is that the balance between negativity and positivity is Very much out of wack. what i don't know is what the consequence of that is. yet.

I'm gonna go on a limb and say it's nothing good and buckle up for the ride.

wow it sure sucks knowing something bad is gonna happen and being powerless to stop it. how the hell does ink do it.

side note: ive been calling them the "guardian of negativity" but i don't actually know what that entails. same with dream's title as "guardian of positivity". honestly i don't think either of them know either.

i guess dream's positive all the time, like he can't even feel negative emotions

oh my god im stupid. he literally can't, can he?

then that would mean nightmare cant feel positive emotions. that's. wow. huh.

shit. well, i'm gonna have a chat with dream. or ink, if he doesn't want to talk.

#blue's (totally not diary) log #(btw these entries are out of order cus im sillayyy)

[oceansssblue]

hello hello friend, i have a writing request!

can i get a commander mayday x reader? something along the lines of reuniting after him surviving barton 4, just some fluffy fluff (and maybe a little angst sprinkled in if you feel its necessary hehe)

much love <3

Hey there! Interesting request, we don't see much of Mayday round here but I totally get the appeal!

Obviously some changes to the show, but all for us to enjoy ;)

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"COLD WITHOUT YOU"

SW REQUESTS –MAYDAY/(GN)READER 📩💔💖

WARNINGS: FROSTBITE&INJURY, OTHERWISE FLUFF.

It is a cold day in Barton IV; and that is saying a lot, considering the ever present freezing air on the almost desolate planet currently ruled by the Galactic Empire. You are somewhat of a nomad, having left the troubles of your past life behind; living a mostly solitary life in the mountains. It isn't the most comfortable of lifes; but you appreciate the peace and quietness that blankets your little home cavern after so much pain and destruction.

You step inside your home, instantly feeling physically better. The cave you live in shields you perfectly from the howling wind; and once you lit up a small fire in your humble living room of sorts, the temperature rises slowly but steadily. Today has been one of those days where the cold seems to slip it's thin fingers inside your clothes; leaving them humid and sticking them to your skin.

You disrobe and change to an entirely new set of clothes. You're shaking while you do so; but soon you're dressed with a dry set and you sigh in relief, sitting down next to the fire and pulling your socks off, smiling at the warming heat inches away from your frozen toes. It feels like heaven, such a small thing.

You stay close to the fire for some minutes, warming up. Once the tingling sensation has reduced and your skin and muscles feels something akin to normal, you reach over to your vault and take a pack of rations out.

"Cheers, Mayday" you joke out loud, and take your first bite into it.

It's not your everyday dinner; not you're favourite. You're pretty self-dependant. You know how to hunt your food –wether it's edible plants and fruits, or a small or large mammals–. Birds are more difficult to catch –unless they're injured–; but you've definitively had them more than once too. Hell, you've even had lizards and other small reptiles for lunch. However, when the temperatures are extremely cold and you aren't as lucky as to find much of a prey, you always have Mayday's extra rations. That's actually how the two of you met; he was scanning the perimeter of his base, once, and you were inmerse on the hunt. He watched you kill a mountain cat; and made a comment about that being a good ammount of food for two. You had been shocked by his presence and his suggestion; but loneliness had started to pull on the strings of your heart back then, and you had nodded dumbly. That night you had shared your first dinner and the warmth of your bodies; and the rest was history.

In present time, you go to sleep with a tired but soft smile on your face.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hours later, you wake up with shuffling steps and grunts right outside your cave. You instantly frown and grab your blade, standing up quietly and slithering towards the entrance in alert. It sounds human, so your first instint is to think of Mayday; but there's more than one set of wobbly steps, and he would never bring visitors unannounced. No, it's definitively a stranger.

You see him first. He's tall and skinny; you can see that even with his armour on. It's different than those you've seen before as well; almost black, and paiting a dark contrast against the white of the snow behind him. He's got a riffle attached to his back and a visor on his helmet; some sort of sniper. He's covered in snow, shaking visibly; his companion too, who has to be almost dragged inside in order to...

"M-mayday?" You stutter, freezing on the spot and lowering your blade, abandoning your agressive possition instantly.

"W-we're going to n-need some... help..." the stranger grunts, teeth clashing violently against each other, and you spring into action, quickly standing at your partner's other side and holding some of his weight.

The three of you stumble inside; and collapse near the fire.

You're frenetically checking him inmediately. You rip his helmet of; for once having no care where it lands while you cup his face trying to get his attention and then take his pulse when he barely responds. It's faint but it's there.

"What happened?" You question the stranger in pannick.

You quickly work on taking his armour off; piling it up fast and methodically at your side. You feel the stranger studying you, but you don't even glance at him. Mayday is all that matters now.

"Avalanche" he answers, voice raspy "he hit his head. The most worrying thing now is the frostbite, though. I'd take a look at his feet if I were you".

You nod in understanding.

You're both silent for the next handful of minutes; while you leave Mayday in just his underware before covering him with one thick blanket after another. You take up some heating packs of your vault too; breaking the sticks and pushing them under the blankets so he warms up even faster. You throw some other things at the stranger too; hear him change as well in the silence of your home.

Mayday's still shivering half an hour later. His skin still looks dangerously red and blue; body trembling in his unconsciousness. You've already pushed him close to the fire, used some heat sticks, changed his wet clothes and covered him in blankets. There's only so much you can do.

Without worrying on the other soldier seing you half naked, you take your clothes off, and cuddle up close to Mayday inside his refuge of blankets. He's so cold it makes you wince and tremble; but you clench your jaw and stubbornly press your whole body against him. He needs you, and the cold isn't going to stop you. Mayday mumbles and you soothe him with a caress and a Keldabe kiss.

"You better not try anything or you'll end up dead" you warn the soldier, who's still looking at the both of you, either from mistrust or surprise.

"Won't" you hear him grumble, shakily. "You're my best chance of survival. Besides, I owe him".

You only desperately wish Mayday survives the night as well.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You wake up with your man mumbling incoherent words and pressing further into you, cold –but normal cold– nose hiding on the curve of your neck. You blink sleeply, and scan him instantly; a relieved sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of his no longer alarming body temperature stealing some of yours.

Your hands come up to cup his face; brushing his long disheveled hair aside and staring at him with raw adoration and love. You can't help yourself and kiss him, then; a soft, heartfelt press of lips.

Mayday groans and groggily opens his eyes; scanning the situation –gaze lingering on Crosshair's lying form a pair of meters away– before returning to you. He hums, and hides his face in your neck again, kissing your skin gently.

"Morning, cyare" he whispers, voice hoarse but sounding like a dream to you. "Sorry for stealing your heat tonight".

You sigh in content and wrap your leg around his hips. One of Mayday's strong big hands reaches down to hold your thigh against him.

"Just happy you're safe and sound, May" you whisper back at him, pulling back to look at him in the eyes. "You scared the shit out of me".

Mayday hums and tugs you closer to him. The warmth feels delicious below the blankets. You can't help but feel a slow, unhurried tingle of arousal building inside of you. You don't do anything to chase it.

"Mm. I know. I'm sorry, mesh'la. Yesterday was a mess".

You stay in silence for some time; both of you caressing each other's skin softly.

Your eyes glance back at the other soldier sleeping on your cave.

"Who is he?" You whisper to him.

Mayday takes a moment to answer.

"Imperial sniper. A clone, though obviously different than me. I Think... Think he's starting to get tired of it. Some part of him clinges to the Empire like it's the only thing he has left; but I think it's just a matter of time before he let's go".

You hum distractedly. Your nose brushes against his.

"You trust him?"

Mayday sighs.

"Trust is a powerful word" he carefully answers. "I think he's made some bad choices, like me. But he's a good kid".

You give him a soft smile and kiss his lips once more. His beard and mustache tickles your skin.

"You can't save everyone".

Mayday smiles; a small, nostalgic tug of his lips.

"I know" he whispers, closing his eyes and cupping your cheek with his hand, foreheads pressing together. "I'll just focus on you, then".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Boom! This oneshot came up being a mix of fluffy and nostalgic/melancholy angsty! I hope you liked it!

Next work will be a non romantic Echo&Omega angsty/comfort convo. After that we've got a cryptic pregnancy with Hunter, and then some more fun&light oneshots too!

Stay stunned,

Xx,

Sky.

PS. Still not knowing how to link works with just the title. I accept help xD.

Back to my main masterlist here:

#commander mayday #star wars #clones #fanfic #tbb #hunter tbb #tech tbb #clone wars #echo tbb #fics #wrecker tbb #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #cross #tbb au #arc trooper echo #the bad batch #tech #clone force 99 #clone au #cuddles #huddling for warmth #one shot #oneshot #request #open requests #clone trooper wrecker #x reader

[w1ldthoughts]

The Forgotten One Chapter Ten: Love that Grows

Series Masterlist

A/n: The grand finale!! Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, reblogging and liking. This story had been so much fun to write but to share it with you all has been even better. Enjoy this final chapter and let me know your thoughts! As always, I love you all…you make my heart smile.

When you woke up, everything was white and smelled sterile. It was a real deja vu moment…you were in the hospital. You tried to stretch but the IV in your arm kind of restricted your desired movements. Cleo was in the chair next to your bed, typing away on her laptop until she heard your not-so-subtle movements.

“Well hey, sleepyhead. Top of the morning.” She tips her nonexistent cap at you. “Before you ask, I’ll just give you the rundown. You fainted from being overwhelmed and dehydrated so they gave you an IV but other than that you’re fine.”

“And where—where’s”

“Jack?” She finishes for you. “He drove you here and stayed with you until they told him that you were absolutely fine…repeatedly. But he had a meeting with some people that flew in from Europe so I forced him to leave.

You smiled to yourself at the thought of him being physically pushed out of the room because he wanted to stay with you. And then you were hit with the reality of what happened last night and you suddenly really needed to be at home.

“C, you have to get me out of here. There’s something I have to do. It’s really important.”

You spent the rest of the day going through your laptop, rehashing all of your memories and somewhat laughing at yourself at the thought of everything that happened the last few months. Some of it felt like a movie, a super dramatic Lifetime special, the ones that usually ended in someone getting murdered. You thought about Ben and Quinn and how a very small, but maybe big part of you still wanted revenge, even though the only real crime committed was lying and people got away with much worse every single day. The thought of having to put you and Jack through that entire ordeal seemed like a waste of time and the best course of action really was just putting it all behind you and looking into the future.

Every page of your computer diary was printed out, and you condensed them as you started writing. By the time you looked up from your task, it was dark outside and you needed to head to Churchill Downs, silently praying that Jack would still be in his office. You met Sadie on the elevator and she willingly helped you with your plan which was probably the most shocking thing to happen to you this year.

She knocked on Jack’s office door and handed him a letter, “this is for you, and so are all of those.” Sadie nodded to the trail of papers leading to the elevator with a bright smile on her face. “Good night Mr. Harlow, enjoy your night.”

“Thank—thank you Sadie. You um, have a good night.”

He read over the first note a hundred times before moving on to the next one.

Jack, I remember waking up…on our fourth anniversary and having you beg me not to go to work. The day was long and I couldn’t focus on anything but seeing you. I’m so glad that your face was the last thing I saw that day.

He would never ever forget that day. Everything started off so perfect and it turned into the worst moments of his entire existence. His worst fears had come true and there were so many times that he relived it, thinking he was alone. But you were starting to remember. He took a deep breath and picked up the next note.

I remember the look of pure joy on your face when I opened my eyes, like when you get the gift you’ve written on every wishlist for Christmas and I just made all your dreams come true. Little did I know that you were actually mine.

If there was one thing that had remained constant throughout all of this, was the fact that he would always be yours. Even when you begged him to forget it ever happened…part of him was always going to belong to you.

I remember the many nights we spent opening up about our daily struggles, simply putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that one day life would just go back to normal. But even when things were hard and the days were dark, you still managed to bring so much light into my life.

There was one night, after you’d moved out that he called at 4am. You were half asleep and disoriented but immediately woke up at the sound of his shaky voice. You ended up watching an entire season of Never Have I Ever on Teleparty. Jack wished that night had lasted forever.

I remember being a blank page, that you filled with so many happy memories that I wasn’t ready for. But you never gave up on me, you just loved me through it.

The first time he saw you, he was awestruck. On your first date, he knew he’d fall in love. The first time he told you he loved you, he envisioned spending the rest of his life with you. When I asked Cleo to help me design the perfect ring, he continued the many ideas in his head and the endless possibilities that the two of you would explore together. And then the unthinkable happened and he had no idea what to do and the odds were pretty stacked against him when he found out you had lost the entirety of the relationship you had. But losing your memory doesn’t mean the love that you shared was lost, and if he could just love you hard enough…you both would be just fine. Maybe even more than fine.

I remember our not so happy days too. The ones where we yelled at each other and left in tears. But the bad days, the sad ones just make the good moments that much more enjoyable. I want all my moments with you, the good ones, the bad ones and everything in between.

He thought that those days would break him. But then his mom gave him a reality check and gave him a new sense of hope. And that was enough to keep him going. Love doesn’t just fall out of the sky, it takes work. And he only wanted to do that work if it was with you.

Go to the 13th floor to find the rest.

Jack’s grin took over every muscle of his face as he happily trotted to the elevator and hit the button on the 13th floor, immediately met with another note on the ground.

I remember running away, looking for solace in something—someone that seemed to make life so simple. I’ve now come to realize that I don’t want simple. And I damn sure don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking for pieces of you in every man that I meet for all of eternity.

The thought of you, walking around hopelessly looking for someone that could take his place and being wildly unsuccessful admittedly stroked his ego a bit, but confirmed his fleeting belief that you could eventually find your way back to each other.

I remember finding myself on this wild goose chase trying to prove your innocence because deep down, I knew you’d never do anything to hurt me. No matter what we’d been through. So I dug deep to find out what really happened.

Quinn. The night that he met her haunted him for months. How could he ever betray you like that and be so careless? Had he really let it get that far? And when he found out that Quinn was pregnant it was like another gut punch. Everywhere he looked, there was another obstacle, another sign from the universe that maybe things wouldn’t work out in his favor. And just when he thought you’d fully given up, there was still a fire within you that burned only for him.

I remember shutting off my brain and some of my memories came flooding back with a rush. It was overwhelming and concerning and…fucking electrifying. Seeing almost the entirety of this beautiful life we shared and knowing that there was so much more life to live—and there’s nothing more that I want than to live it with you.

The closer he got to your office, which is where he knew he’d end up, the more nervous he got. And the more excited. And hopeful. And his body couldn’t move fast enough to get to you.

There are so many things that I should’ve told you. So many apologies to give and so little time to give them. But I’m willing to try.

“Any road—all the roads I take lead me back to you eventually.” You begin, as he appeared in front of you and stood in the doorway. Quickly closing the distance between you, you stared into his blue eyes, twirling a few curly strands of his hair in between your fingers. “No matter how many detours or accidents happened on that road, I found my way back. And I hope I always will. Because you are my final destination and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re it for me too.”

“Jack, I love you so much it hurts. It creates an actual ache in my bones and makes me do things I never thought I would do like a super cheesy love note trail across floors. You’re everything I could ever want and I—”

“I love you too. Always have, always will.” Jack whispers, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You pulled him down to your level as your lips connected and he cupped your face.

There it was. The fireworks, the butterflies, the—everything. And Jack had told you that a true love’s kiss wouldn’t magically fix everything. Good thing you had the rest of your life to prove him wrong.

Taglist

@jackharloww

@killatravtramp

@middlechild404

@harlowcomehome

@itsyagirljaz

@iknowdatsrightbih

@earthtoharlow

@alimaythings

@rosie-posie08

@heavyhitterheaux

@hoodharlow

@jackiehollanderr

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow au #jack harlow angst #jackman thomas harlow

[albinocapybara]

Finally after being stumped on a name for so long, the LeshyCat children concept is here, first, of course, some info on the parents :)

(Btw im not a native english speaker)

If you have any questions about them or my other headcanons feel free to ask too!

How they met: Due to his injuries making it extremely difficult for him to adjust to his new life in the cult (let alone how he would now have to learn how to live with a mortal body again) on his own, the Yellow Cat (who i will be referring to as "Amare" from now on) was assigned as his caretaker to help him deal with the necessities that came with being a mortal again (sleep, water, physical activities and so on) on top of the problems that came with his injury. While Leshy at first felt insulted by this treatment (the whole "i was a god i can do this without the help of some mortal yada yada" thing), he soon realized it was for the better (while also realizing his feelings for Amare :3).

Leshy: Freed from Purgatory in the cult around 100-ish years after his death and 15 years after Narinder was overthrown by The Lamb. All his high priests and his witness (Amdusias, Valefar, Barbatos and Agares) had passed away before his arrival, making the former and current gods of death the only "familiar" figures in the cult (they both changed so much after their last encounters), although he still avoided both of them most of the time (Narinder because of his conflicting thoughts about the older brother, and The Lamb somewhat out of anger at them but mostly fear due to how traumatic Purgatory was for him), but dont worry they eventually made amends along with the rest of the bishops :). Also became friends with bat follower but she isnt relevant for this post

Amare (the Yellow Cat): Rescued from being sacrificed to the dead bishop of chaos in Darkwood after followers of the Old Faith killed everyone else from his village, works as a farmer in the cult. He was the only follower (aside from the first five followers of the cult, who are kept alive and act as advisors and friends for The Lamb) that knew of Leshy's past as an bishop, and though he still held resentment for the former god, The Lamb's seeming disposition to forgive him made the cat consider doing the same for him, volunteering to be his caretaker. Once their relationship was made official, he was given a golden skull necklace to ensure the two could stay by each other's side for eternity.

Now for the children hehe

They are twins (as ive mentioned in my other posts), a daughter named Camellia (Amare chose the name) and a son named (drumroll please im so proud of this name) Havoc! (Name chosen by Leshy of course).

They both have green moss-like fur from Leshy, and the head shape of a cat from Amare, but other than that their bodies are very distinct due to inheriting different parts from their parents

Havoc: His limbs and tail, as well as his longer whiskers, are from Amare, giving him a silhouette very similar to a cat, aside from the antler-like branches he got from Leshy, he also has two sets of eyes like Leshy used to have once, ironically though, he has rather poor eyesight, needing glasses to see things that are a bit too far. Despite his name he is actually pretty calm and enjoys the peacefulness of the cult, though this doesnt mean he is opposed to some occasional mischief, specially with his sister. Wants to help with teaching when he becomes of age (also im thinking about the idea of having him figure himself out as transfem but thats for another time)

Camellia: her limbs and tail, being from Leshy, are quite a bit longer and thicker than her brother's, giving her a broader and taller silhouette, as well as making her quite a bit stronger physically, she also has only one set of eyes and shorter whiskers than her brother, as well as no branch antlers. Is a very active person, playing with other kids and sometimes helping adults with tasks that wouldnt risk injuring her (most of the time they dont let her though). Also loves doing pranks and other forms of tomfoolery around the cult along with her brother. She is also very protective of him, getting into multiple fights with kids (and a drunk adult one time) who pick on him (aka bullies). Wants to follow her parent's job of farming when she comes of age.

#cotl #cotl leshy #cotl yellow cat #cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb leshy #cult of the lamb yellow cat #cotl leshycat #again if anyone has any questions about them or my other headcanons feel free to ask! #im so proud of the name i came up with for their son #after being stumped on it for so long