#I feel like it's the same one but I'm not sure

[suiana]

yandere! childhood friend who still reminisces about your childhood together. yeah, the two of you may be grown now but he's been your day 1 and he just can't help but think about how you used to cling to him and adore him so much! he wishes you'd still do that but it is what it is. no matter how much he wishes otherwise.

yandere! childhood friend who did everything with you. yeah, that also includes practicing kisses. he's your first kiss, and he's never gonna let you forget that. you said you wanted to get better and who is he to refuse? he can't pass up such a prime opportunity! and it's not like he wants anyone else to take it. god no. that would be a tragedy.

"yeah, remember our kissing practices? hah, we were such kids back then!" he watches as you snicker, feeling a warm flush creep up his spine. god, of course he remembers. young and immature as you both were, you both learned together. that's all that really matters to him. "thanks to you, i can now makeout with my partners with ease. you're the best man." and has he told you how muchit infuriates him that you're using your experience to get with others? to please them with the mouth that once touched his? nah, he really can't stand for it. but he isn't allowed to say anything. he's just a childhood friend after all. not for long though.

yandere! childhood friend who wishes he would've accepted your offer to learn how to fuck as well. but no, he just had to be way too delusional back then and tell you to wait for the right one. he must've thought that you'd feel the same and confess then he'd court you slowly before getting to that stage... that never happened unfortunately. not yet at least. he'll make it happen.

yandere! childhood friend who's still a hopeless romantic at heart. a delusional one but a romantic nonetheless. he brings you out on "platonic dates" or whatever the fuck you like to call it, comfort you after your shitty excuse of a partner dumps you, and treats you like the deity that you are. you only deserve the best and he'll be there to provide. none of these losers can't treat you well. he can. he really hopes it'll help you see him as a potential boyfriend!

"i just," you blow your nose, tears streaming down your cheeks as your childhood friend rubs at your back tenderly. "don't know why he'd want to dumo me! we've been going strong for a year already! it's so out of the blue!" yeah, out of the blue huh... not really out of the blue for someone who's been actively theeatening that poor excuse of a man. that menas him, obviously. why he's been threatening him, you ask? because he's not treating you the way you should be treated, duh! sure you look happy but are you really? probably not, he's sure of it. "hey hey, don't worry... I'm here now, aren't i?" he always is, and he always will. you just need to understand that fact and you'll start seeing him in a different light too. don't worry, he has lots of patience. just... don't go sleeping with other people again.

yandere! childhood friend who may or may not be totally super duper mega in love with you. yeah, definitely not in love with you. that would be weird, right? come on, he's your childhood friend! sure you two might've kissed when you were kids and promised to marry one another but those were kiddy promises! that's all they are! he... totally doesn't believe you actually wanna marry him and be his forever and ever.

"so have you started thinking about your future?" he pauses at your question, rubbing at his empty ring finger. future, huh? funny how you ask that when you two are destined to be together at the end of it all. i mean, the two of your promised it as kids, didn't you? sure you're exploring now but at the end if the day, it's him that you come back to, don't you? even if just as a friend. but that's the present, not the future. "nah, not really. just wanna focus on the current moment, y'know?" bullshit, and he knows it. but he doesn't wanna scare you away. not yet at least. you're still out lookign for others which means you haven't come round to the idea of you two together. not to worry, he'll give you a little more time to see how good he is. how good things could be between you two if you just gave him the chance. "i mean, you're here with me." he chuckles, taking your hand in his before placing it on his cheek. you're warm. he likes your warmth, it's so soothing. "that's more than enough for me." half lidded eyes gaze at you, full of emotion and hidden longing before he hums softly. the teo fo you sit in the park in silence, enjoying each other's presence. in the moonlight, everything seems to slow and engulf the two of you in a quiet embrace. he only wishes you would just love him back already. "yeah, I'm glad to be by your side too, best friend." ...he really hates those words. don't worry, good things come to those who wait. and you will be his in due time. you've already had his heart, now all he needs is yours.

[tsuyalovebot]

watch you entertain.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

synopsis: caleb comes to a few conclusions when you give him a blowjob for the first time.

cw: NSFW and explicit sexual content, mdni. established relationship. mentions of intercourse. oral sex (blowjob). mentions of reader receiving oral sex. hair pulling. imaginative violence (not to reader). petnames (pretty, pipsqueak). mention of oral sex (receiving). he slaps his dick on your face (not sorry). mention of spanking and watching porn. caleb-typical warnings.

wc: 1.7k (drabble....ish????)

author's note: i can't defend myself since 90% of this is word vomit. i'm working on another caleb piece right now, but i needed to get this out of my system. think of it as a precursor piece, like an hors d'oeuvres. also, please disregard any typos. (— - —)|||

The first time Caleb felt your lips on his was magical. The second, third, fourth, and succeeding times were all but surreal.

He had all but convinced himself that your mouth, pressed to his in a flurry of tender touches or desirous cravings, was something he conjured up in the blurry moments of his delusions. You always manage to kiss them away, though.

Later on, you admitted that he was your first kiss.

"When I visited you after you moved out," you said. Hands wrung, your gaze averted downward as you were perched on his lap one evening.

He knows what you're talking about. Remembers its vividness with a startling clarity that would have embarrassed him otherwise, if you didn't share the same sentiments.

By now, you've already kissed and made out in the intimacy of his place beyond finite counting. Had sex with him on whatever surface the two of you could get your hands on. You've long since spoiled him with your presence, both physical and mental. There's a key tucked away in his headspace with your name engraved into the metal. Magnetic and the signification of a special place for you in his heart.

He spoiled you, and now, you spoil him. Neither of you complain about this mutually beneficial arrangement. Why would you?

Though, he can't say he's exactly pleased at the current moment.

"That's it, mmm. You're being so sweet today."

He's watching you, as he always is. You're on your knees before him—you insisted, said it added to the atmosphere despite his crows of indignance at the possibility of them bruising—and your mouth impossibly full of his cock.

You're bare before him, towel discarded on the coffee table with your body damp and he's barely presentable in his uniform. Disheveled and pants undone, he wasn't sure if he was exactly living up to the honorable nature of the clothes he donned. He tried to undress, but you'd been pawing at him the second he walked through the doorstep in nothing but one of the towels he bought you, so his resistance was doomed from the start.

His arms spread on the top of the couch, he tilts his head back and sighs slowly. Hot breath escapes him in time with his Adam's apple bobbing, swallowing a heavy moan that threatens to break free. It takes him a few moments before he peers at your kneeling form once more.

One of his hands cups your cheek, the cool leather swiping over your cheekbone and pushing some of your hair back. Rapt attention on you, whispering soft words of, "that's how you do it" and "a biiit wider, pipsqueak— yeah, like that" with so much appreciation in his tone. Because that's what he feels toward you right now; so much appreciation in his heart belongs to you.

Your tongue was doing sinful licks along the underside of his cock's curve, the girth hefty in your two hands, and your eyes stayed closed in a quiet pleasure. It's expertly done, and the creation of human response as you wrap those pretty pink lips around the tip of him and suckle on it, strings of your saliva leaving sticky wefts along the shaft.

Alternating between peppering his length in kisses and taking a couple inches into your mouth, he's fighting for his fucking life trying to not bust a nut. He's sort of ashamed to have dreamt of this moment for years. You would never let him live it down.

As if the deities couldn't get enough of his suffering, his mind had made the fatal mistake of noting the visible difference of the size of him and your hands and your mouth. It gets him going, that stark contrast and how gently you were treating him.

It's a sight reserved for his eyes alone. Something he wants to pocket and immortalize because it's his and only his. That's the only reason for the powerful plethora of emotions boiling over in his gut. Truly, the only reason.

That's what he tells himself as he observes you with a progressively darkening, clinical, dead-eyed stare that you weren't aware of. A little voice in him nagging at his conscience, spitting words of venom that feeds into the slowly, slowly expanding green-eyed monster rising onto its feet.

"I got a question for you, pretty," he says calmly, deceptively so. Making sure to sound as casual as possible, his gloved hand coming to stroke over your damp, silky hair. You really just couldn't wait to please him, immediately pawing at him when he arrived home and you were fresh out the bath.

You murmur something in reply, lips suctioned to his shaft. Those gorgeous eyes, ones that beheld him with such reverence and adoration in round shape flicker up to his. The vibrations and sight hit him like a freight train and he groans, low and deep. He lets the pleasure settle into his bones.

"You have to answer honestly, 'kay?" He croons down at you, assuring. His facial expression had finally relaxed from its initial, contemplative one. You're happy with this, he notes as you eagerly bob your head, careful to remain quiet.

Good. It'll make hearing your voice all the more worth it. When you said he was your first kiss, he was beyond ecstatic.

Hopefully, you can echo the same thing now.

With an easygoing air betraying that of his positively threatening smile, he asks, "Where'd you learn how to do this?"

There's a sick sense of pleasure in watching you process his words a second too lats. Because you're such an open book with him, aren't you? The way your eyes widen and your lips halt, as if your heart stopped even beating. Even if makes his own blackened heart speed up, its thudding resembling a rabbit's stomping.

Your blinks were a linguistic of their own, and he was the expert in unraveling the lexicology of your existence.

You don't answer fast enough. Or, you don't answer at all. Because now, you're staring him like a child chastised for having their hand in a candy jar—where they weren't supposed to be.

Unfortunately for you, that was more than telling for him.

Caleb doesn't speak. The air is several degrees colder now, like the air circulation was suddenlt cut off, and he drinks in the way anticipation tenses your muscles and your uneven breaths smooth over his skin when you pop your lips off his cock. Those sinful lips that he stole away as his were now glistening in a mix of your spittle and his pre-cum.

He could almost forgive you right now. But, you make the crucial mistake of looking away from him.

"Oh?" It's inquisitive—his tone, yet it has the power of a knife being drawn.

The hand on your head loses its comforting, encouraging air and instead becomes a weight.

A threat.

The visual that's formulating in his head isn't a pleasant one. An image of stained glass shards, blurry yet clear in the vision of you on your knees for another guy. The scattered light capturing your mouth wrapped around the faceless stranger, servicing him the same way you're handling Caleb, seeking that same, sickly sweet tang of validation.

Could it have been that Xavier guy he sees on your phone notifications from time to time? Or is it someone closer to you, from your Association? There's a chance someone else from your childhood reached out to you, maybe after his disappearance. Did they hold you in ways he's been craving to hold you for years?

That's not fair, now, is it? He's worn your hairtie around his wrist for years, disregarded countless scribbled love letters from bystanders, based his little trinkets around those apples you love so much, and spoiled you countless times in his misplaced desire for playing the role of your protector. It simply isn't fair that you sought gratification from a source that wasn't him—because for him, it was always you.

Is it too selfish of him to want your everything?

You don't say anything even as your mouth opens and closes. You're either searching for an excuse, weighing the costs of lying to him at the moment, or you're genuinely floundering for words at the sudden blankness in your head.

He hums again, and it's lower than before. Full of thought and contemplation as his amethyst eyes bore holes into your speechless state. It's full of disappointment and he sees the worry creep into your eyes like a leaking faucet.

Threading his gloved fingers into the tresses of your hair, its smooth leather massaging your scalp, his face softens.

"I guess I did say you should be honest, not fast," he murmurs, laughing to himself quietly.

His lips tilt into a boyish sort of grin, and it's so full of mirth and entertainment that it's easy to process as him diffusing the situation. It works like so, and you're soon tilting your head into his palm and seeking his touch.

In the distance, the kettle in the kitchen screeches like an alarm of what's to come.

Disconcertingly relaxed, his smile seems absolutely sarcastic. A bit sharp at the edges.

"I should make it easier to understand. Let me rephrase it, then."

He pulls your hair. It's one harsh motion and it jerks your head up. A gasp torn from your lips as they fall open, the slight sting shooting through your body with an charged breeze.

"Who did you learn this from?"

He's so used to tasting you before fucking; your sex and his tongue are practically best friends in his eyes. It never once occurred to him to have you suck him off.

He should've been suspicious the second you offered to begin with.

The blood drains from your face some more and he relishes the blank yet alert state your eyes reflect. He's sure your mind is in disarray right now. The feeling is mutual, though you're aware of that too, most likely.

"I have a right to know. I always said that you could come to me if you needed help with anything, right?" It's a rhetorical question. You both know that. You're doomed either way.

You make another breathless noise, and he wants to explore your vocality. Now, how would you sound gagging on him?

"Caleb—"

He shushes you softly and you quiet down in an instant.

"I don't need an answer that isn't related to my question, don't you agree?"

Another rhetorical question as he cocks his head, the gesture mocking.

"You're always tellin' me to be honest and share my thoughts with you. I'm bein' honest now. Everything should be mutual, so, answer my question. I might even go easy on you."

You're totally panicking now, aren't you?

His other hand wraps around the base of his cock and he slaps the shaft onto your cheek, then smearing his leaking tip over your glistening lips, a thoughtful smile playing on his own as if he were offering you candy.

"And depending on how you answer, I'm either taking you over my knee while you spell their name out, or you'll be showing me exactly what pornos you've been watching without my knowledge. So, what's it gonna be?"

[megalony]

Pre-Exposed

This is a new, angsty Evan Buckley imagine requested by anon. I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan have a son together, and when he becomes unwell, hidden family secrets begin to surface. And Evan isn't sure he can forgive his family for the secrets they have kept from him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hooking her bag onto her shoulder, (Y/n) took a deep breath and walked away from the car. Her tongue darted out to run across her dry lips as she made a brisk walk through the school gates and followed the winding path towards the reception doors.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) got a phone call from the school. Jack wasn't like other boys. He wasn't one for getting into fights or playing up, that wasn't him and he loved his school work. He was involved in lessons and had a passion for learning.

The only times (Y/n) ever got a call from the school was regarding school trips or to be made aware of something that was happening. And those calls were rare and few.

When she left work just after lunchtime, (Y/n) hadn't been expecting to get a phone call from the school telling her that Jack had fainted. Sometimes he tripped or got a graze when he hurt himself playing games during break and sometimes he was sick, but it rarely happened.

(Y/n) could count the times on one hand when she had needed to come and pick Jack up from school. That told her that this had to be worrisome.

Her hands started to clench and curl into fists as she headed through the double doors and turned towards the reception desk.

"Hi, I got a call to come down for Jack Buckley?" (Y/n) couldn't stop herself from tapping her fingers against the reception desk as she waited for the woman to look at her notes to know where Jack was.

Things like this always made (Y/n) nervous. Whenever she had to take Jack to the doctors or to any appointments, Evan was always there with her. She didn't know what to do with herself or how to stop the tension and stop from feeling so uneasy.

"He's just through here."

Rolling her lips together into a thin line, (Y/n) nodded and followed the receptionist down a short hall towards a row of rooms. (Y/n) recognised a few of them to be the teacher's offices, a supply cupboard and finally a small nurse's office.

The room wasn't very big, it was about the same size as a walk in wardrobe with two chairs in front of a computer desk and a small bed in the corner for examinations. It much resembled a compact GP room at the doctors. And there, perched on one of the chairs to the left, was Jack.

The ten year old looked worn out. He was slumped forward with his arms resting on his knees and his head bowed down. His body was jittering and lightly trembling and he looked pasty like all the colour had been drained from his body. When he tilted his head up to see who had walked into the room, a small smile pulled at his lips but it didn't make him look much better.

There was a drowsy look in his eyes that made (Y/n) fear he might be on the verge of collapsing again. He looked like he wanted to go to bed.

She hurried into the room and set her bag down on the chair next to him while she crouched down so she was in front of him. Her hands rested on his knees and she tried to smile as she looked him up and down, checking for any injuries or anything that didn't seem normal.

"What happened?" (Y/n) glanced back over her shoulder to look at the receptionist but she was surprised when Jack slumped forward until his head was resting on her shoulder. And he shakily looped his arms around her neck and leaned against her chest like he was a toddler again who wanted to be carried around.

"We're not quite sure if he fainted or fell asleep at his desk, he dropped and hit his head on the desk. And he's very lethargic."

That didn't sound good.

(Y/n) knew instinctively that Jack must have fainted. He wasn't the kind of child who would fall asleep just anywhere and not once had he ever fallen asleep in school. He didn't take naps when he was at home, Jack was such a hyper, wired boy that naps weren't something he seemed to be able to do.

And if he had slumped down and hit his head on the desk then it made sense that he would have fainted. By the looks of him he seemed like he might be within range of fainting again.

(Y/n) kissed the top of his head before she moved her hands to his shoulders and gently tried to reel him up so he was sitting straight again. But her head tilted to one side and she frowned when she watched him grimace.

"My back hurts." He muttered quietly while he kept one arm around (Y/n)'s neck and moved his other hand to point round to his back.

When (Y/n) glanced back at the receptionist, she shook her head with a blank expression and her hands tightly knitted together in front of her. He hadn't mentioned that to her or said anything about falling and hitting his back or having anything happen to his back.

(Y/n) pushed up on her knees so she could lean over and carefully roll Jacks shirt up towards his shoulders so she could check what he was talking about. Her breath caught in her lungs and her chest seemed to seize up when she looked at his back. There were bruises scattered around his lower back like splatters of paint. Some were fading from purple to pasty blue and others were a dark yellow with a green tinge, suggesting they had been there a while.

"Jack, baby, what have you been doing? Did you play-fight with someone?" Some of the bruises looked old, but others looked new.

What had he done? Had some of the other kids been picking on him? (Y/n) dreaded that thought. She didn't want to learn that other kids had been bullying Jack or else she would have to tell Evan and get him to come down to the school and have a stern word with them.

"I fell playing football with Chris." He winced as he spoke and clicked his spine into place whenhe straightened up and (Y/n) pulled his shirt back down.

He didn't see how his words caused his mum to frown in confusion. He had played football with Chris last week when they all went to the park together with Chris and Eddie. His back shouldn't be bruised this badly and the bruises should have all started to fade out by now.

Was he trying not to tell her that something else had happened? Had he forgotten that he might have bumped into something or fallen at some other point during the week?

"Okay baby, let's go home."

(Y/n) slung her bag back on her shoulder, muttering a soft 'thank you' to the receptionist while she curled her arm around Jack's shoulders and tucked him into her side. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, observing him as they headed out to the car.

He was walking like he was sluggish. If (Y/n) didn't know any better she would have thought he hadn't had any sleep last night and was running on last reserves. But she knew he had slept well, he barely managed to get out of bed this morning he had been in such a deep sleep.

The nerves building up inside (Y/n) only got worse on the drive home. Jack didn't sing along to the radio like he usually did. He wasn't nodding his head to the music or tapping his feet. He didn't try and make any conversation with her at all. He slumped down in his seat and blearily looked out the window like he had been stuck in a trance.

Once they got home, Jack turned to look up at (Y/n) with those tired blue eyes that made her want to cry. "Can I watch a movie?"

"Sure baby." She kissed his temple again, noting that he wasn't running a temperature which was one good thing at least.

She followed him inside and watched him from the living room doorway for a few moments. Jack slumped down onto the sofa with a thump and set about finding a movie on the kids channel, but he didn't look fussed. (Y/n) knew he had to be feeling unwell because he wasn't watching a new movie, he put an old one on that he had seen many times before with Evan. Clearly he wasn't interested in watching a movie, he just wanted the comfort of having something on in the background.

Her heart shuddered and squeezed tightly when she watched Jack flop onto his side a few moments later. He stretched out on the sofa with his face burrowed down into the pillow and when (Y/n) leaned over to look at him, she noticed he had his eyes closed.

He was going to sleep. He really wasn't well.

"Hey babe- buddy?" A frown pulled on Evan's features when he jogged down the stairs and caught sight of (Y/n) heading into the kitchen. But when he noticed what movie was playing on the tv and the shoes that had been kicked off near the sofa, his face morphed into confusion.

He leaned over the back of the sofa and rested his hand on Jack's arm, watching as his boy mumbled his name but didn't bother to open his eyes or look up at him.

Evan trailed his fingers along Jack's cheek and ruffled his hair before he headed into the kitchen to find (Y/n). He had expected her to be home around now, but he hadn't expected to see Jack with her. Evan was supposed to be picking him up from school in two and a half hours.

"What's he doing home, did something happen at school?"

(Y/n) felt a small swell of relief when Evan's arms encased around her middle and he pressed his lips to the back of her head, giving her a tight hug as his chest merged down against her back.

"He fainted in class this afternoon, and he's so tired." The worry was clear in her voice and by the expression on her face when she looked up over her shoulder to glance at Evan.

"Is he sick?" It wasn't like Jack to be ill at school, and Evan couldn't remember the last time he had known their son to faint for any reason.

"I don't know… can you go look at his back for me, see what you think?"

A quiet "His back?" whispered into her hair as Evan made sure he heard her right before he untangled his arms from her and trudged back into the living room. He could feel (Y/n) hovering close behind him and his brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed Jack was already fast asleep, breathing softly into the cushion his face was squished into.

Crouching down beside the sofa, Evan took care to be gentle and slow as he lifted up Jack's shirt. Thankful his boy was laid on his stomach so he didn't have to turn him over and disturb him.

"Jesus, what'd he do? Has someone hit him?" The anger was present and bubbling up inside Evan's voice even as he whispered towards (Y/n) who was stood in the doorway, biting her nail out of anxious habit.

If anyone had hurt Jack or done this on purpose, there would be Hell to pay. Evan would march down to the school right now and demand to see the child and their parents if someone had done this to Jack. They had never had to worry about him being bullied before, he wasn't exactly one of the popular kids but he was gentle and kind and funny and he had his own small group of friends who he got along with.

With a deep breath, he pulled Jack's shirt back down and grabbed the cover to drape it over him if he was having a nap. He was clearly feeling sick if he was going to sleep at one in the afternoon.

When he walked back over towards (Y/n), Evan reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, anchoring her into his chest with his lips meshed up against her temple. He could feel (Y/n)'s hands gripping his biceps and her head tilted down until her lips were pressing against his throat, causing his Adam's apple to bob up and down.

"He said it's from football, when he was playing with Chris last week, but he fell on the grass. Babe I don't think he's well, all he wants to do is sleep and he's forever got that cold."

It wasn't just today, (Y/n) had noticed Jack being sluggish and without his usual burst of energy for a while now. And he had been suffering with a cold for more than two weeks, which also wasn't like him. He seemed to be under the weather a lot just lately and (Y/n) didn't like it.

She could feel Evan's arms tightening around her as he sighed against her temple. Neither of them wanted to brush this off when something clearly wasn't right with their boy. He could just be suffering from a bad cold or the flu, but it could be an infection or a virus or an underlying cause like anaemia. They had to get him looked at.

"I'll book him in at the doctors in the morning."

***

A cold slither of dread crept down (Y/n)'s spine from the base of her neck right down to her lower back when she and Evan walked into the doctor's office.

She couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, like something was amiss but she couldn't tell what it was.

Her hand tightened around Evan's until she was sure she was about to cut off his circulation and her free hand curled around his bicep, gluing herself up into his side. She tried to smile when the doctor looked up towards them and motioned his hand towards the seats in front of his desk, urging them to sit down.

Once they were sat down, (Y/n) leaned herself to the left, pushing more into Evan's side as she tucked up against him in a vain attempt to stay calm.

"Thank you for coming in so promptly, Mr and Mrs Buckley."

"You said you had some results to talk about?" Evan looked between the doctor and (Y/n), a placid expression on his face.

He and (Y/n) had been worrying all morning about this appointment. They had gotten a phone call two days ago after they had taken Jack to the doctors last week and he had some bloods taken and an examination by the nurse. (Y/n) had been expecting to talk over the phone, she thought they would tell her Jack had a virus or he was anaemic and would need some medication.

When she was told to make an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible and come down for a chat about the results, she knew. She just knew this meant something was serious.

Their only relief was that they didn't need to have Jack here at the appointment, he could go to school none the wiser that his parents would be going to an appointment with the doctor about him. He was only ten, he didn't have to be there for the consultation. But needing a chat with a doctor meant that this was serious.

"Yes, we've had the blood tests back for Jack. We ruled out anaemia and pneumonia, but there were a few anomalies so I sent them across to a colleague at the hospital in oncology for a consult."

"Oncology?"

Evan didn't like the way (Y/n) stiffened beside him and when he looked down at her, he was frightened to see the panic bubbling up in her eyes. He felt her nails scratching into the back of his hand and he leaned in closer to her side as his lips parted and a shudder ran through him.

He found himself muttering "What is that?" towards (Y/n) because clearly she knew what that meant. Evan wasn't a nurse like Maddie or a paramedic like Eddie and Hen. He didn't know all the medical jargon and that word had already gone over his head.

"No, b- but that's for cancer." (Y/n) shook her head as she spoke and she felt Evan bristle in his seat like he was turning to stone.

And when she looked up at her husband, Evan looked like all the colour had been drained from his features. He had gone positively grey as a blank look flooded his face and his baby blue eyes started to deepen as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Yes… I'm sorry, the results have come back positive for acute leukaemia. It's a form of cancer in the blood, I'm afraid it's serious."

"No, oh no."

Bile rose at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she felt her stomach churning as she turned to the left and pressed her face into Evan's shoulder. Each strangled breath she took fanned against his shoulder and into his cotton shirt. She could feel him leaning into her, his lips merged with the top of her head and his hand curved round to cup the back of her neck like he thought she was about to break into hundreds of little pieces.

She could feel Evan's hand clenching around hers, pressing so tightly he was squeezing her knuckles together and threatening to pop them out of place.

Each breath Evan took mingled in with (Y/n)'s hair and he knew a tear or two had trickled down his face into her hair.

This wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

How could this be happening to their Jack? The results had to be wrong, but deep down, Evan knew they wouldn't be. It was a rarity that the hospital ever got any results wrong or mixed up, contrary to what some people liked to believe.

"This form is usually seen more in children, it's destroying his white blood cells which will weaken his immune system, along with affecting the way his body functions. The tiredness, easy bruising, stiff joints, long sickness, it's all symptoms."

But those were such common symptoms. They could all be accounted for by a common cold or a lack of vitamins or being anaemic. Those symptoms were relative and could be due to a number of simple, little things. Why did Jack have to have something as serious and deadly as cancer? What had he done to deserve this?

"Wh- how do you treat it?" Part of Evan found it strange that this could be considered cancer when it wasn't a lump or a tumor in Jack's blood. It was an inefficiency to produce the right cells and destroying the few good cells he did have.

Did he still need chemo or radiotherapy for something that was happening in his blood?

How were they going to explain this to him? Evan didn't want to tell Jack that he had cancer. That was the last thing any child wanted to hear and it was going to freak him out. But they couldn't exactly keep this a secret from him when they would be bringing him to the hospital for appointments and whatever form of treatment he was going to need.

"Chemotherapy is always the most direct and effective route, getting rid of the affected blood cells so proper ones can form. We'd also like to do a bone marrow transplant after chemo. All the blood is made in the marrow and if he gets healthy marrow, he can make healthy cells much quicker that way and get his body back on track."

A guttural sound emmitted from Evan's lips as he dropped his head forward into his hand. His fingers scratched into his scalp, tugging at his curls and scraping until he was sure he was drawing blood along his hairline. He could barely feel his other hand that was tangled with (Y/n)'s, they were squeezing each other's hand so tightly that there was no blood supply to either of their hands anymore.

Their boy was going to need chemo. Jack would have to come to the hospital, he would have to miss out on school and do his work from home or the hospital. He would become sick- sicker than usual. He would be run down, he wouldn't be himself. He was going to lose his hair, become weak in himself.

And they were going to have to put him through all of that if they wanted to give him a chance at surviving this.

This was going to be agony for Jack. Evan had heard about bone marrow transplants, he knew what that meant. Thick needles right into the centre of the bone to inject marrow and hope that the body would take to it and start using that marrow to produce proper cells.

That was going to be a big procedure for a ten year old. How were they going to explain any of this to him? How were they going to get Jack through this?

"So, so what, he goes on the list, for that transplant while he's in chemo? When does that have to start?"

(Y/n) kept her right hand curled around Evan's bicep and she leaned her cheek onto his shoulder, letting him do the talking as she felt like she was in some kind of bubble or trance.

Tears were silently pouring down her face and soaking into Evan's shoulder while he sat hunched forward with his left hand cradling his chin and jaw. His mind was starting to go on overdrive, something that always happened when he was nervous or panicked like this.

"We need to start chemo as early as next week, but the good news is we don't need to put him on the list." The doctor could see that this was a lot to take in, but he seemed somewhat glad that both parents were up to talking it through here and now.

It was better to talk through everything now and try to get some consultations and dates booked in as soon as possible for Jack's health. They couldn't wait and let him deteriorate, they had to get him into treatment now to give him the best chance at recovery and pushing through this.

"Why?" (Y/n) sniffed and brushed her sleeve beneath her swollen eyes while she stayed leaning into Evan's shoulder.

Was there a donor at the hospital who happened to be a match for Jack? Not needing to wait was a good thing, it meant Jack could be helped sooner rather than later and doing all the treatment now would be the most effective method for his treatment and recovery.

"Mr Buckley, your records show you are a complete match. If you'd be willing, we could use your marrow when we're ready to do the transplant."

(Y/n) swallowed deeply as she watched Evan sit up straight rather than being hunched over his knees. There was a solemn expression on his face but a faraway look in his eyes, like his body was sitting here with her but his mind was wandering somewhere else completely.

It was as if a wave of calm had washed over him and he nodded his head. If Evan was a match, then that's what they would do. It was much better having a relative donate, especially Jack's dad because that meant there was a bigger chance of his body accepting the marrow and taking it.

Evan would do anything for his boy. He would give him blood transfusions, bone marrow, he would give him a kidney if he needed it. Evan would die for him. He would do absolutely anything for his son and making Evan a full match was like fate was trying to make up for what the wrongs that they were now imposing on Jack.

"Do it."

***

(Y/n) felt like she was walking in a trance. It was how she had felt for the last few days, really. Everything she did made her feel like she was on autopilot. She cooked without really noticing what she was doing- and it was a miracle she didn't burn or cut herself with her mind being so distracted.

She tried to watch tv with Jack but the voices just turned into static in her ears and her mind started to drift off without really looking at the tv. And she could see that Evan was doing the same when he was home, it made her wonder what he was like when he was on the job.

Her hand tightened around Evan's as they stood on the doorstep and waited tiredly for Maddie to open the door.

She had been the first person they spoke to after they got the news from the doctor. They didn't know who else to call or what to do. After a lengthy chat, they had agreed to come round to see Maddie today while Jack was at school. As of next week he wouldn't be back at school, he would be spending his days at the hospital getting his first round of chemotherapy. Just the thought made (Y/n) cringe and cower down into Evan's side.

They both knew they must have looked a state when Maddie opened the door to greet them. Her eyes were glistening with tears when she looked up at her little brother and sister in law.

Maddie cocooned an arm around each of them and brought them into her chest for a hug that instantly made Evan feel a tiny bit better. Maddie always had that effect on him, she had always been that comforting, parental figure he went to whenever anything was wrong.

"Come in." She pressed a kiss to Evan's cheek before she pulled back and guided them both inside.

They were expecting to be led into the kitchen, that was always the first place Maddie went when they came over. She would either put the kettle on or source out a bottle of wine, but today she turned left and headed for the living room instead.

A cold shiver ran down Evan's spine when he walked into the living room and noticed two people sitting on the sofa. His feet became rooted to the spot and his skin started to bristle and the hairs on the back of his neck stuck up like needles. He found his fingers tightening around (Y/n)'s hand and he leaned into her side as his chest tingled and started to tighten.

"Mum? Why're you here?" Surprise flooded Evan's voice and managed to mask the uneasy discomfort that he felt at their presence.

He hadn't expected to find his parents here.

He could feel (Y/n)'s shoulders slumping down and her cheek pressed into his arm as she leaned into him a little more like her energy had suddenly been drained to nothing.

"You told them, about Jack?" There was no anger or betrayal in (Y/n)'s voice, there was hardly any emotion at all. She nodded when Maddie gave her a timid look, clearly thinking she might have overstepped a mark but if anything, (Y/n) was relieved. She wouldn't want to be the one to break this news to anyone in their family and she knew Evan would of had a hard time trying to explain this to his parents.

It had been bad enough when Evan had to tell his parents that he'd gotten his girlfriend pregnant when he was seventeen. His parents hadn't been best pleased that Evan was going to be a teenage parent, it wasn't something they had in mind for him and it didn't go with the modern family image they tried to pass off to friends and neighbours.

That was why Maddie had been more involved in Jack's life and why Evan's parents only started to get involved with him over the last few years.

Telling their parents only made this more real. (Y/n) hadn't told her own parents yet, she was waiting until next week when they were going to be coming over for a visit. This wasn't something she could tell them over the phone.

With a sigh, Evan trudged into the room and moved towards the armchair while Maddie squashed herself down next to their mum on the end of the sofa. Evan heaved himself into the chair, trying to sit up straight but all he wanted to do was melt down into a puddle and disappear. He spread his thighs and moved his hands, silently indicating for (Y/n) to sit with him rather than sitting across from him on the other armchair. He didn't want her sitting alone.

She obliged, relieved at the invitation and sank down on the end of the chair between Evan's thighs. Her back moulded up against his chest and she felt his arms curve around her waist and lock together in front of her abdomen like he was caging her in and refusing to let her go again.

"Maddie rang us, and we came straight down, oh Evan… how is he?" Margaret leaned forward and set her cup down on the coffee table before she tried to pat Evan's knee, but she could tell that the comfort wasn't welcomed.

He stiffened in his seat and shifted his leg until his mum retracted her touch. She had never been very good at comforting Evan or truly caring when he was upset and starting now simply made him feel unsettled.

He thought it was good of them to show some sort of support now though. It hadn't taken much for them to come down and see if they could help. That was more than two years ago when Evan had been in an accident and got his leg crushed by the fire truck. His parents had come down after Evan's third surgery when he was practically at the end of his recovery.

Evan wasn't sure if he was happy or enraged that they were caring about Jack more than they ever did for him. It meant they were trying with Jack, trying to get that connection and be in his life and that was good, but it reopened the wounds Evan had tried so hard to heal. The wounds they inflicted when they constantly pushed him aside and showed him how he would always be second best to them.

"Petrified." Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s hair and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent to try and calm himself down a bit more.

"We've told him it's a blood disorder, we don't- we don't want anyone telling him what it is." (Y/n) tried her best not to burst into another fit of tears and she steeled her expression to try and remain calm.

They didn't want anyone telling Jack that he had cancer, not right now anyway. That would overwhelm him and scare him and they didn't want that. They wanted this treatment and recovery to be as easy as possible for Jack so they had sat him down and tried to explain that he had a blood disorder where his blood wasn't producing the right cells.

He knew he was going to the hospital from next week and he would be having medicine to try and sort it out. And when they had explained that he would have a bone marrow transplant- which they tried to explain as a blood donation to make it easier- Jack had been relieved to know Evan would be the one giving him the blood and he would be with him through the procedure.

It made Jack feel comforted to know that his dad would be experiencing something similar in the way of a donation and that his dad was helping him.

"Evan… we have to tell you something."

He didn't like the sound of that. His arms tightened around (Y/n)'s waist and his cheek pressed up against the side of her temple as he narrowed his eyes at his parents.

It wasn't often that Evan saw his mum look anxious like this. She was always uneasy, stern, usually unhappy and prickly, but she never looked worried about anything, at least not when it was concerning him. But even his dad looked uneasy right now, with one hand drumming along his thigh and the other hand entwined with Margaret's to comfort them both.

But when Evan glanced over to Maddie, his brows furrowed and he noticed his sister looked unsettled too. She was trying her best to sit still but she was starting to fidget. Maddie only fidgeted when she was hiding something, Evan knew the signs and he could see the way she had both hands tightly clasped on her lap and she was spinning the ring around her index finger. A nervous habit she had never gotten out of.

Suddenly, Evan wasn't so sure that he wanted to hear whatever they had to tell them.

"This leukaemia, it- it… little Jack might have it because it runs in the family." Margaret couldn't find it in herself to look at Evan, the guilt was evident in her eyes and so she looked down at her hands instead. Noticing how much she seemed to have aged in the last few years.

Had this moment come round already? Since the moment Evan had been born, Margaret had been dreading the time when they would have to tell him the truth about his birth and his life. She always thought that this moment was so far away, but it had finally caught up to them.

"What? Who else had it?" Confusion plastered across Evan's face as he tried to wrack his brain to work out who in the family had ever had leukemia.

Aunt Lisa had breast cancer, Evan remembered that vividly from childhood because his mum had spent two weeks out of town to look after her sister. And he was sure Phillip's dad had suffered with some ailment before he died, but Evan couldn't think what exactly had been wrong with his grandad.

Evan never saw his grandparents very often, Maddie had always been closer to the rest of the family than Evan was. But he didn't know of anyone close who had this form of cancer, and it had to be someone close in the family for his parents to think that it was why Jack now had this too.

"Your brother."

(Y/n) couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips and she huffed, looking between Maddie and her in-laws with disbelief welling up in her eyes. If this was them trying to make light out the situation then (Y/n) didn't find it helpful nor amusing.

What the Hell were they talking about? (Y/n) had known Evan since he was fifteen and not once had he, his parents or anyone in their family referred to any brother.

"Look, if this is some kind of joke I don't find it very funny."

"No Evan, this isn't a trick. We, we had a boy before you, when Maddie was two. Daniel."

"Maddie please…" The desperation in Evan's tone had tears welling up in Maddie's eyes and she coiled her arms tighter into her waist as she winced.

He was begging for her to tell him that this was some kind of sick joke that clearly wasn't funny. He wanted her to explain, to say that their parents were having some kind of stroke and none of this was real.

How could they have had a son before Evan and not told him? How could they have kept this from Evan his whole life? No pictures around the house of him. No acknowledging his birthday or his memory. No mourning or griving for him over the years. Not even telling Evan one memory about him. That was sick.

If Evan and (Y/n) had more kids but lost Jack, they would never just erase him from their memory and pretend he hadn't existed. He was their son, he was their world and if something happened to him they would want to keep his memory alive, not bury those memories along with him.

It took all of Evan's effort to stay sitting and stop from bolting up from the chair and walking away. He had to tighten his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and pin his chest into her back until he could scarcely breathe in order to remain in control of himself and stop from exploding.

"He got diagnosed when he was seven, we tried chemo, but it was aggressive. He needed marrow, and stem cells, so we, well, it was a hard decision, but we…"

"Evan's a donor baby?" Shudders crept up and down (Y/n)'s spine as she glared at her in-laws who she barely recognised.

"Yes."

How could they do that to him?

(Y/n) had always seen it. From the moment she met Evan's parents, she had seen how they treated him. He wasn't abused, but he wasn't loved or treated with much respect either. (Y/n) saw how Evan hurt himself, he purposely fell from trees, had skateboard accidents and broke his bones in order to get some ounce of love from them.

It was clear to see that they valued Evan as an ornament in their family, but as a son, they couldn't love him like they did with Maddie. When Evan told them (Y/n) was pregnant, they had been less than understanding. Evan was ruining their image and the ideals they had about the life he would lead.

And now it all made sense. Evan hadn't been a child they longed for, he was a tool to protect and save their other son. He had been a remedy that didn't work and they couldn't bring themselves to grow to love him when they never really wanted him in the first place.

"And it didn't work?" Evan unlocked one arm from (Y/n)'s waist so he could run his hand up and down his chin and jaw, tracing the stubble he was beginning to grow.

"We were heartbroken, and we didn't want you knowing the real reason why we- why we had you… so we thought we best not tell you."

"Are you sick?"

The cynical tone to Evan's voice made his mother visibly flinch and caused his father to shake.

What did they think they were doing? Why did they think keeping this from him was the 'normal' thing to do? Surely they would have known that they couldn't hide this from Evan forever, this couldn't have been kept a secret for his whole life.

If Evan had known the truth, he would have understood. He would have realised why his parents couldn't love him like they did Maddie. He would know why looking at him made them flinch or brought an old sense of sorrow to their eyes. He would never have tried to hurt himself to gain their love if he knew the reason why he was alive and the brother he never knew.

Evan would have let them treat him badly, he would have accepted that they couldn't love him and he would of had more respect for himself. He wouldn't have grown up believing something was wrong with him if he knew.

"Buck, he died." Maddie's voice broke as she tried to stay calm and collected. "When you told me the other day about Jack, I had to tell them in case he has it because of Daniel."

"You let me grow up believing I wasn't good enough, and all the time you knew why I was treated like that?" Evan's voice rose with every syllable until he was practically shouting at his sister, the woman who had raised him since he was a toddler whose parents couldn't be bothered with him.

All this time. All his life, Maddie had known. Every time Evan asked what was wrong with him, what he did to upset their parents, why they couldn't love him. And all those times Maddie told him he hadn't done anything, she lied and said they did love him in their own way. She even said she didn't know why they were sometimes cold-hearted towards him.

She had lied to Evan every day of his life.

All this time Evan felt like such a burden on Maddie. He felt like she had been forced to become a teenage parent, that she was forced to love him and bring him up because their parents simply wouldn't do the job themselves. Evan felt so guilty and bad for Maddie. He never needed to feel like that.

If he knew the truth he wouldn't have been craving love and attention so much, he wouldn't have relied on Maddie so much. He wouldn't have felt guilty because Maddie was the one with the guilt. She was the one who felt guilty for lying to him, she chose to care for him, she chose to comfort Evan when he was upset.

"I couldn't tell you-"

"Bullshit Maddie." The snide words snapped at Maddie and caused her to quiver and sink back into the sofa.

Evan felt himself starting to shake when (Y/n) slithered out of his arms and stood beside the chair instead. She had far too much adrenaline rushing through her to sit still and she could feel Evan bubbling up like a volcano that was about to explode.

"Why did you watch?" Evan's words confused Maddie who frowned and shook her head, for she didn't know what that implied. "You watched me hurt myself. You watched me break my ankle, my arm, I cracked my ribs, I got concussed. I nearly got fucking runover and you watched! You watched me do that for their fucking love. You think I would have tried so hard if I knew the truth? I wouldn't have done any of that."

If Evan knew the truth he would never have hurt himself. He would never have played so dangerously as a child. He wouldn't have skated on the roads, he wouldn't have climbed the tallest trees, held his breath and then allowed himself to fall. He wouldn't scrape his knees and break his bones and cry his heart out to get some sort of love from their parents.

If he knew the truth, Evan would have let things be as they were. He would have accepted the fact that their parents couldn't bring themselves to love him. He would have realised that hurting himself would make their parents fret and fear rather than making them care. They were worried they would lose another son, they weren't suddenly loving Evan like he believed.

Maddie should have told him, but instead she watched him. She stood by and allowed Evan to be reckless and hurt himself and scream and beg for their parent's love and attention.

Evan was sure that Maddie tried to whimper "I'm sorry." But it came out as a blundering cry more than a few broken-hearted words.

He pushed up from the armchair, hands balled into fists and his whole body reduced to trembling as he tried to decide whether he wanted to stand here and argue or turn and walk away. Leaving might have been a better option, but there was still so much more that Evan wanted to say, and he might not have these feelings and this courage to speak again.

Nothing passed Evan's lips when he glanced over towards his wife and realised (Y/n) was silently crying. Tears were streaming down her face and her eyes were starting to swell as she bound her arms around her waist and looked at his parents with such torment and anger in her eyes that Evan barely recognised her.

His hand reached out for her arm and he was relieved when (Y/n) moved her hands and clung to his arm rather than pulling away from him. But she wouldn't look at him. Her eyes were solely focused on his parents who were turning redder by the second and who were starting to cry too.

"You… don't- don't you see what you've done?" She did her best to steel her voice but it didn't work very well. "We didn't know t- the symptoms. If you told us we might have been more aware, more cautious… Evan, he… he's been so sick, and we…"

She couldn't finish her sentence.

They hadn't known.

Jack's symptoms were so generic and easily misconstrued as a simple cold or illness. But if they had known that leukaemia ran in the family, that Evan's own brother had died from it, then they would have been more aware. They would have known what symptoms to look out for.

They could have told their doctor when Jack was born and at his check ups, it could have been on his file as something to be aware of and look out for. He could have gotten help before now if they had known they were pre-exposing him to this form of cancer.

Guilt dwelled in Evan's stomach like hundreds of stones settling in his abdomen and crushing everything inside of him.

He turned to the right, cupping the back of (Y/n)'s neck as he pressed a wet, shaking kiss to her temple. He had pre-exposed Jack to this and he had no idea. Jack had gotten this from Evan, from his side of the family. Evan should have known, he should have been more aware.

"It's not your fault-"

"No. It's yours."

Tears continued to fall down Maddie's face as she gasped and pressed one hand to her chest where it felt like her heart was physically breaking into thousands of little pieces. It felt like a glass heart had shattered and each fragment was now coursing through her blood, splitting her apart from the inside out.

She hadn't meant any harm. She had been told not to tell Evan and how could she go against their parent's wishes?

"Someone should have told me."

This wasn't about Evan anymore, this was about Jack. Evan could just about grasp the fact that they had lied to him all his life, but when they knew that Evan could potentially expose Jack to this illness they should have spoken to him. He was seventeen when they had Jack, he was more than old enough to understand and to take in all that information.

He should have been told so he knew how to protect his son and what signs to look out for so Jack could be kept safe. Chances were that Jack did have this because it ran in the family and had been passed down.

"We kept this secret for so long-"

"When we had Jack one of you should have explained this to me! You all watched him grow up, you knew I was pre-exposing him to this and you didn't tell me. We could of had him tested! We could of monitored him a-and had some kind of awareness. But you just stayed silent and watched from the moment he was born."

Evan's right arm was encased against (Y/n)'s chest, but he moved his other hand to grip the back of his neck. He could feel his short nails puncturing through the skin, scratching at the short hairs and gathering flecks of skin beneath his nails. But it didn't do much to calm him down.

All of Evan's life, all of Jack's life, they had been lied to. Ten years, they had sat by and let Evan raise Jack in blissful ignorance that there could be anything wrong or underlying with him. They watched for a whole decade as Jack grew up and they never once told Evan that something might be amiss, that there could be something passed down to him.

If Evan kept a secret from Maddie he felt like his intestines were churning themselves into knots and he always felt his body prickling with heat and his heart had palpitations when he thought about what he was hiding from her. He thought she felt the same. But how could she when she had gone over twenty years without telling Evan the biggest secret in their lives?

When Maddie stood up, Evan glared down at her. His upper lip curled into a tight grimace and his nose crinkled as he wondered who on Earth was stood in front of him right now.

Whenever she tried to comfort him growing up, Evan always felt like he was home, like he was safe. Not this time. This time, as Maddie brushed her hand along his arm and tried to cup the sides of his neck, all Evan could feel was dwelling uncertainty and revulsion.

As Evan grew up and started to grow taller, Maddie started to loop her arms around his neck or she would pull on his shoulders to drag him down to her height for a hug. They both secretly loved that he was the little brother and yet he was tall and broad and could envelope Maddie in a hug.

But as Maddie tried to nudge Evan's neck and pull him down for a hug like she always did, her lower lip wobbled and a broken sound left her lips when Evan didn't budge. He tensed his neck and tilted his chin back, fighting off more tears as he refused to look at her.

She couldn't hug away the guilt she felt and she couldn't expect Evan to sit down and accept this like he accepted every other wrong-doing in his life.

This was different; this involved Jack.

Reaching behind his neck, Evan held Maddie's hand with a strange tenderness but she hated how he pulled her touch away and dropped her hand back towards her. He didn't want her to hug him. He didn't want their parents to try either because he could see they were now both stood up and trying to inch closer.

The slightest touch of Margaret's hand on Evan's shoulder made him recoil and stumble into (Y/n) as he tried to step back. Her touch had never been comforting since he was a child and right now it repulsed him.

"Don't touch me." The way Margaret uttered his name in despair didn't make Evan feel anything but anger. She had no reason to be so upset when she had brought this on herself. All three of them had.

His hand tightened around (Y/n)'s and he nudged her back until she took the hint and started walking towards the doorway with Evan close behind. They weren't staying here any longer. They needed to go home and talk and process this before they had to collect Jack from school and act like their world hadn't just been twisted into an alternate dimension.

"We're leaving. And don't think you're gonna see Jack on this shitty little visit, not after this." The way Evan pointed at his parents made both of them stutter and gasp and his mother seemed to clasp her hands in front of her like she was suddenly going to pray for his forgiveness.

"Evan, please!"

He had never heard his father say his name in such a desperate manner or sound like he was begging him. It was so strange that Evan almost felt like he was in a dream. But he wasn't going to relent and he knew by the way that (Y/n) squeezed his arm and kissed his shoulder that she felt the same.

They had come here solely to drop this bombshell and explain what they had done wrong. They weren't here to see Jack or ask how he was or what kind of treatment he needed, that came second. What they prioritised was earning Evan's forgiveness minutes after unloading their guilt onto him.

That wasn't how it worked. They couldn't do this and then expect they could still see Jack. Evan wouldn't let them near his son, not until this had all cleared up and Evan found a way to forgive them. Maddie, he would forgive. In a day or two, he would see reason and allow his guard to drop, but he wasn't sure when- or indeed if, he would ever be able to truly forgive his parents for this.

Evan was about to walk through the doorway when he turned after a second thought and glanced over his shoulder at the three of them. "You know, I may not have been good enough to save this brother I never knew, but I'll be damned if I can't save my boy. This time, my blood's gonna be enough."

Evan's sole purpose when he had been born might have been to save his brother, but his purpose now was to save his son.

And he wouldn't let Jack down.

[strwbrychffoncke]

"i just wanted to tell you incase you forgot... 'i love you',, 3k words ⸺ event masterlist synopsis: the ways in which you tell sylus "i love you" and ways in which he reciprocates contains: lnds sylus x mc?reader (fem in mind but she/her is used like once or twice) ,fluff! ,kitten/sweetie used as pet names ,domestic!sylus feel ,cuddling ,playful banter ,baker sylus ,incorrect evol use but its wholesome ,sylus chases u around ,twins feature ,not much to say other than soft!sylus being in love w u / both of u being lovesick for e/o + twins shenanigans at the end (i think thats it) note: (mostly edited ,will check back later) added this track last minute but immediately knew who i wanted to write it for. first fic of the event woooo~ :x

-

sylus wasn't a man of love-filled sentiments.

or at least, that's what you'd initially thought.

a man like him, the big bad leader of onychinus, someone who was above everyone else and the most sought-after criminal, wielding a steel-cold gun in one of his bloodstained hands...

someone like that didn't know love, surely.

but oh, how wrong you were.

you were the only one that knew, under all of that tough exterior, the true tenderness that lied beneath it.

and you were the sole subject to it, from the very beginning.

-

you woke unceremoniously in a bed that was not your own, surrounded in a blanket of warmth but not solely due to the comforter surrounding your plush body:

it was mainly due to the otherworldly individual beneath you, who you were using as your personal body pillow of sorts.

you stir, letting out a small groan before peeking your eyes open to catch a glimpse of the man before you.

the big, bad leader of onychinus, sleeping soundly in bed next to you, arm firmly wrapped around your waist and your head comfortably planted on his chest— your favorite makeshift pillow.

you can't help but to smile at the sight.

feeling a touch mischievous, you begin trailing your fingers, touch featherlight, up from his waist towards his chest and back down, slowly shifting to drawing mindless shapes in the expanse of exposed skin.

he doesn't react to your touches, still deep in sleep, so you change your tactic.

you drag a single index finger up, up, up past his slender waist, then his slowly rising and falling chest, his pretty neck then up towards his sharp jawline to poke at his cheek.

he grunts in his sleep, but nothing more.

you let out a huff, lifting your head up and staring at the serene expression on his face— even lost in the land of dreams, you couldn't help but to admire every feature of his visage.

a couple of minutes pass by just like this until you decide you're feeling a little bored again.

so you repeat your earlier action, dragging your finger up slowly, slowly, just about to poke his cheek again—

when your wrist is swiftly caught by a warm hand before you reach it.

"it seems my dream of a kitten mistaking me for a toy wasn't a dream after all."

sylus' crimson eyes crack open to look directly into your bright (albeit still slightly-sleepy) ones, heart full at the little playful smile you're sporting.

"she seems bored," he muses, thumb from the hand still gripping your wrist gently caressing your knuckles back and forth— a subconscious habit whenever his hands hold yours.

"should i entertain her?"

his question goes unanswered as he shifts over on his side while letting your hand go at the same time, causing you to slip from your spot on top of him to behind him, facing his back.

"—or leave her to her own devices?"

"sylus!"

your laughs are airy, quickly enveloping the spacious bedroom, and sylus finds himself smiling at the sound.

you don't leave him alone for long, quickly pressing against him and hugging his large frame from behind.

sylus releases a playful scoff. "is this a new attack of yours?"

"yeah, you can't escape, i'm going to stick to you like this forever and ever!"

"how touching," his voice is filled with amusement. "i think i can get used to this..." he trails off, smile evident in his words.

you stay that way for awhile when you decide to repeat your earlier actions in the new space, retracting a hand as you begin to draw shapes into his back this time. at the same time, sylus begins to hum whatever song is on his mind, eyes shut as he revels in your touches, neither one of you in a rush to get up from this sacred space for two.

"what are you drawing, kitten?"

your finger dances across the bare canvas of his back.

"guess," you answer simply as you continue.

he lets out a huff of a laugh. "not going to make it easy for me, are you?"

you hum in response, dragging your fingers to create imaginary lines over the muscles.

"is this... a kitten?" you can almost hear the raise of his eyebrow and see the funny yet curious expression on his face.

"oooh, i didn't think you'd get that one. how about..."

your finger traces several lines again, taking your time before you stop and wait for his answer.

"hmmm..." the way he's concentrating trying to figure it out fills you with amusement like no other.

"a... plane?"

"wrong, it was mephisto!"

"..it was close."

"are you calling mephisto a plane..?"

"..let's move on to the next one."

a hearty laugh rings out as you pretend to erase the image.

"wait until i tell him~"

"you wouldn't dare," he jokingly threats, causing you to only giggle back in response.

you decide on something much simpler this time.

your movements are slowed as you start near the center, drawing a tilted line outward and up before curving it inward and mimicking the same on the opposite side, connecting them to form a heart.

i love you.

a short, amused laugh leaves him, immediately recognizing the shape, but shaping a question instead of an answer.

"i'm not too sure, sweetie. might have to try that one again," he says, voice soft and tender, a hint of a smile within it.

say it once more.

so you do.

you repeat your action, slower, drawing another imaginary heart on his bare skin and within it, your unspoken promise of devotion towards him.

i love you.

this time, he turns around to face you, pulling you flush against him. you let out a short laugh before its devoured by his lips on yours, caught in a dance of love and devotion, giggles bubbling out of you between the breaks as you try to catch your breath while he needily chases your lips.

and the message he wishes to convey is clear as day.

i love you, too.

-

someone like him was the last person you thought you'd ever associate sweets with.

but after the time spent together, you find it hard to imagine anyone else cautiously reading the instructions, mixing the ingredients precisely, and carefully readying the icing for the fresh cupcakes that have come out of the oven and are left cooling nearby, except for him.

you tiptoe into the kitchen, watching him prepare a piping bag for the freshly-made icing he's made while he hums (when you asked him why he goes through the trouble of making it from scratch, he countered by asking "doesn't it taste better when you put in the work for something?" and despite playfully scoffing at the little smirk he offered, you couldn't help but to agree with him).

you smile at his focused expression, reading glasses perched on his nose, some remnants of ingredients spotting his clothes as he decides on which icing tip to use for these particular cupcakes (the last time he made them, they resembled simple flowers. based on the icing tip he was inspecting now, it seemed he was going to try for roses this time).

now just a step away from his back, you reach out both hands, index fingers out as you poke both sides of his lower back at the same time.

he jolts at the sensation, small gasp emitting from his lips and shock washing over him as he cranes his neck over his shoulder to catch your satisfied smile.

"another sneak attack, kitten?"

"i couldn't resist."

you step up beside him, taking a peek into the bowl filled with icing.

"red this time? i would've never guessed."

he scoffs, smiling.

"am i that predictable to you?"

"well, after spending so much time together, its only natural, right?"

"its bad if an enemy learns to read you so easily; who knows what trap will be set in the future."

"you're right," your words trail off as you step back, causing the sly crow before you to raise a brow.

"they can plan an attack when you're vulnerable, like—"

behind him again, you jump forward, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"this!"

his hearty chuckle rings through the kitchen.

even if he saw your intention from the start, he made no move to stop you. he'd surrender to you if you so much as asked.

"so? what will you do with me now that i'm caught?"

"hmmm..."

you hum in thought, noticing sylus has picked up the piping bag and was inserting the icing tip into it, getting ready to fill the bag with the red icing.

he's waiting for your answer when one of your hands reaches forward, dipping your finger into the icing bowl and quickly withdrawing your arms, swiftly turning around—

when you feel yourself being lifted into the air.

you let out a surprised squeal, giggling as you thrash around in the hold of sylus' evol, said man's attention still on the icing bag as he scoops a dallop of red into it.

"such a naughty kitten," he says, evol pulling your suspended body over to him slowly as you laugh the entire way.

"and naughty kittens deserve a punishment," as he speaks, he dips his own finger into the bowl of icing, red now gathered onto the tip before looking up at you through the rims of his glasses.

realizing what he's planning, you thrash around to no avail within the confines of his evol, trying to create distance between you two.

"nooooo! im sorry! please- aha, hahaha! sylus!"

your attempt is futile, sly smirk curling on sylus' lips as his finger moves closer and closer to your smiling face that's trying to inch further and further away, pressing his finger right onto your nose, painting it in red.

"noooooo!" you whine, sylus chuckling in amusement.

"how cute," he muses. "maybe this will teach you to behave in the kitchen."

he finally lets you down with his evol, eyeing you as you're standing upright and before him once again.

"now, go and wait till i'm finished, i'll even let you have the first taste," he bargains, turning his back to you and walking back towards the icing bowl.

despite this, a smirk plasters itself onto your face as you creep your way up behind him once again, red icing still staining your finger from moments ago stretched out, ready to paint his cheek—

"i thought i told you to behave."

despite the countless attempts to catch him by surprise attacks, he knows what you're saying through them:

i love you.

your wrist is easily caught in his grasp, stopping your attack before it can hit his cheek, a displeased groan emitting from your throat.

he brings your icing-covered finger close to his lips, lapping at the red. you watch as it momentarily stains his lips before his tongue licks them clean, humming at the flavor.

"it seems.. better this time, don't you think?" he turns, looking down at you.

you huff out a breath, trying to hide your embarrassment at his little action.

"be patient, kitten, i'll be done soon enough..." he trails off, hand unraveling from your wrist. "or do i have to restrain you?"

"i'm going, i'm going!"

with that, you scurry out of the kitchen to wait in the living room, sylus' amused chuckle surrounding the kitchen soon replaced by his soft, mindless humming once again.

i love you more.

-

a man of his caliber having a playful side seemed like a far-fetched idea.

until you experienced it for yourself.

and since the very first time, you're convinced he may be the most playful person on the entire planet.

to be fair, you kind of expected this, after all, its not like it was the first time.

but when you snatched a cupcake when his back was turned and took a bite, you didn't expect him to notice— at least, not right away.

but he did, and when he began counting, you instinctually bolted out of the kitchen, cupcake still in hand, giggles trailing behind you, determined to not be caught by him.

you dashed past the living area, two crow masks peeking up from their spot on the sofa and shifting to another figure— their boss— who was trailing behind you, watching until your figures disappeared down the long corridor of the hall.

"i give her five minutes," kieran pipes up, turning towards his brother.

"i give her three!"

"you're on!"

. . .

even as you dash down the halls, careful not to hit anything and running in scattered directions, it doesn't take long for sylus to close in on you.

you make it to a lounging area, movements slowed from the amount you've ran in the past couple of minutes, beginning to catch your breath after not sensing him around when you feel a weight on your shoulders.

"caught you."

"...!"

he's equally out of breath, taking a few moments to even his breathing, leaning against you more and more before pushing your body down onto the sofa. you fall back on the cushions with a short oof! still in the midst of catching your breath before sylus lays what feels like his entire weight right on top of you.

"sylus!"

you push against his broad chest, completely crushed by his beautiful build of a body, laughter ringing through the living space at your futile struggle against the smirking man above you.

"it seems a little kitten is stuck," he heaves a couple of breaths. "what are you going... to do about it?"

"get... off!" you laugh.

"i'm tired after all of that chasing... not to mention this is comfortable for me," he takes a couple more breaths, looking down at your slightly-sweaty face. "so i'd rather not."

"you're heavy, sylus!"

you weakly hit at his chest when he closes his eyes, pretending to fall asleep on top of you.

"sylus!"

slowly, he lifts himself up with his arms, hands planted flat on either side of your head.

"attacking me after making me chase you? how very cruel of you, sweetie."

your breaths are mostly even now, watching for sylus' next move.

he slowly begins moving his head down, and your eyes naturally flutter closed, expecting a kiss.

he takes this opportunity to plant his knees into the sofa, shifting his weight onto them as he leans down, breath fanning your lips.

"you trust me, sweetie?" he whispers against your lips.

"always," you whisper back.

he suddenly lifts his head, arms lifting at the same time before his fingers immediately begin dancing over your midriff.

your eyes shoot open in shock and betrayal, laughs immediately ripped from your throat as you thrash beneath him, trying your best to get away despite being caged into the sofa.

"s-sy-sy- ahahah! sto-o-p! s-stop! hahaha!"

his fingers continue their brutal attack on your sensitive skin, bubbling laughter infectious as sylus joins you, pleased smile adorning his face at your current state.

he relents shortly after, allowing you to catch your breath again as he looks down at you in a daze, reaching out to straighten your hair.

"kiss..." your voice is breathless, but he catches it.

"hm?"

"you still owe me... a kiss...." you breathe out, looking up at him expectantly. "from earlier."

"ah, of course."

he leans down, capturing your lips with his, hovering over your body as your arms snake around his neck, pouring your hearts into the action. you both kiss with equal fervor, chasing each others lips, never able to get your fill of the other.

i love you.

he pulls away slowly, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close in fear of him leaving you all of a sudden. the look in his eyes says i'm not going anywhere, his forehead touching yours as you both breathe each other in before he tucks his head into your shoulder.

"lets stay like this... just for a bit," his quiet, husky breath hits your ear and you shiver at the sensation.

"okay," you smile, hands petting through his silver locks.

i love you, most.

and you stay together, just like that, losing track of time in the world reserved for two, heartbeats syncing up as you meld against one another, both with the shared sentiment of never letting go.

(only at your insistence of taking a shower and slipping into some fresh clothes when you think he's dozed off does he relent, slowly getting up and scooping you into his arms, making his way down the hall towards his room).

-

sylus wasn't a man of love-filled sentiments.

at least, that's what you'd initially thought.

a man like him, the big bad leader of onychinus, someone who seemed to be above everyone else, the most sought-after criminal wielding a steel-cold gun in one of his bloodstained hands—

the same hands that cradled your face, caressed your hair any chance he got, tickled you when you least expected it, carried you so lovingly at your beck-and-call, hugging you close to his chest, close enough that you could feel his beating heart—

the heart of a man who loved so wholly and completely, devoting his entire being to you.

so, despite what anyone else may think, may also assume at first glance, you knew the truth:

despite the odds, sylus was someone that knew love the best.

-

epilogue:

"so... who won?" luke turns to his brother under the crow mask.

"i did, obviously," kieran is all-too confident.

"what?!? nuh-uh, she was definitely caught in less than five minutes!"

"did we watch the same thing? that was maybe six!"

"are you.... stupid?"

"rude!"

"i didn't think you'd try to lie your way to win," luke crosses his arms over his chest.

"i am not lying!"

"are too!"

the bickering continues for a couple more minutes until luke pipes up again.

"wait, what was the prize for whoever won the bet?"

"......"

kieran is the first to speak up again.

"you know what, since you won, you can be the one to tell boss the reason so many cupcakes are missing."

"WHAT???"

later, the cameras in mephisto's eyes would relay the twins chasing each other around— just amongst the footage of them scarfing down the freshly-made rose-icing cupcakes.

-

a/n: spreading the soft sylus agenda... this is inspired by a number of domestic art/tweets ive seen if i find them ill add but.. he's so soft..... i adore him

-

[hoffmansgirl]

𓍯 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ' . . . nicholas alexander chavez my emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind

⸝⸝⸝ 𓏲 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. . . nicholas a. chavez x fem!reader

a/n. this took almost 2 months to complete but i'm so happy with how this came out !!! i hope you enjoy // this one's for you, @iamsebastiansstan <3 manifesting this for us

warnings. 18+ — minors dni! smut, that including unprotected piv, name calling, kinda hate sex ? crying during + after sex &&& lots of plot beforehand | wc. ۪13.494  ⊹ 𓄹 ࣪ . ݁

— english is not my first language ! feedback is appreciated

"Do we really need to set those fucking rules? You're not gonna abide by them anyway", you chuckled, you're bare back pressing against Nicholas' sweaty chest as he held you close. You felt it rise and fall with every sharp breath he took, the smell of sex and sweat filling the small space of his room. With your palms pressed tightly against the wall and Nicholas' hands rubbing up and down your sides, you felt surprisingly at peace.

"Speak for yourself. I just wanna make sure we're on the same page here", he mumbled, slipping out of your pussy in one, swift movement, and you winced, turning back towards him with a small smile plastered on your face. You were utterly spent, but nonetheless satisfied as you straightened the material of your skirt, making sure you looked presentable, even in your fucked-out state.

"What do you say about... fuck buddies? No feelings involved. Nothin' more than a good fuck once in a while", Nicholas shrugged, pulling his pants up his legs, and you nodded, running your palms over your hair to tame the strands that slipped out of your slicked back hairstyle.

"Yeah, sounds good. Just know", you lowered your voice, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I'm unable to resist. Let's hope you don't fall in love with me in the process".

Nicholas chuckled, his thumb pressing against your lower lip as he cradled your cheek, looking down at you with authority that made your breath hitch. "Don't worry. I won't".

How fucking ironic.

Nicholas' voice echoed in your head as you stood there, immersed in silence, just by the bar's emergency exit door. You could almost feel his presence next to you, his hot breath on your neck, this stupidly attractive smirk that he always sent your way. The way his eyes gazed deep into your soul, as if he could read you like an open book.

Sometimes you had a feeling he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You hated yourself for letting him ruin your night. The buzz you got from the alcohol started to pass, and all that was left inside you was sorrow and anger. The distinctive smell of smoke lingered in the air around you as you took another puff of your half-burnt out cigarette, inhaling deeply, as if the toxin could heal the wounds Nicholas left in your heart.

In your head, you could clearly see it — Nicholas standing a couple of feet away from you, his back facing you. Your friends' laughter erupted in your ears as one of them made a really bad joke, most of them completely drunk by now, barely able to stand straight. Your attention was solely focused on him — the man you came here for in the first place. You hadn't seen him in two weeks, for God's sake! It soon became obvious why, though. A tall, long-haired blonde woman approached the group, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor heard even through the loud music. She leaned against Nicholas, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he responded immediately with rubbing his hands up and down her sides. Suddenly, you felt very uncomfortable in your own skin — the soft fabric of your embarrassingly short dress pressing tightly against your body now suffocating. You wore it only for him, and he didn't even spare you a glance. With teary eyes, you watched as he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers, which were much bigger and fuller than yours, you noted. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you sipped on your drink, your gaze falling to the floor.

What did you do wrong?

Another inhale, another exhale. You played with the necklaces hanging loosely around your neck, feeling your muscles relax a bit as you did so. No matter how dumb that sounded, the cool metal felt refreshing against your fingertips, grounding you to the moment. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldn't get Nicholas out of your head. The night was hot, although you could feel an uninvited shiver run down your spine as you let your mind wander to him again, again and again.

Friends with benefits, he said. No boundaries, just sex between two best friends. The rules were simple enough — but somehow, you managed to break all of them.

No staying overnight. But you did — so many times, letting Nicholas cuddle you through the night, finding comfort and safety in his warm embrace. No kissing. No cuddling afterwards. No catching feelings. And the most important, at least for Nicholas, as he emphasised many times before — No seeing other people. He mentioned that it was for safety reasons, but you didn't believe him — maybe you hoped he wanted you all to himself, the same way you wanted him.

Everything had changed. You looked at him in ways you never dared to before — you started to see a man in him. It started innocently enough. His hand raking through your hair after practically fucking your soul out of you, his eyes filled with hesitation, as if he was scared to touch you, take care of you — but he did. He always did.

Then, he told you to stay overnight. The warmth of his arms around you, his intoxicating smell wrapping around you like a blanket, his soothing hands rubbing against your shoulder and thigh, lips ghosting over your forehead and damp hair. The way he kissed you as if you were the most precious being, lulling you to your sleep after forcing you to take a shower. His smile when he looked down at you with quiet adoration that he hoped you didn't notice. But you did. You always did.

You knew you crossed a line you couldn't uncross, but it was too late to turn back.

The universe seemed to laugh at you, now, as you sat there, alone, hugging your arms to your chest in hopes to ease the aching of your heart. The first drop of the warm, summer rain fell on your skin, dripping down the side of your hand as you shakily exhaled.

The silence of the outside world, compared to the chaos happening inside the bar was almost suffocating, but somehow comforting. You wrapped your jacket around yourself, even though your body was on fire. Maybe you were just trying to shield yourself from the feelings you had towards Nicholas, maybe you just hoped it'd all go away if you hid behind the oversize jacket. Without a second thought, you took the cigarette pack out of your pocket, lighting one up, watching as it got damp due to the — now harder — rain.

"You're pretty", you thought you heart him mumble just as you poured milk into the bowl, glancing at the recipe in order to get everything right. You froze mid-mixing the dough, breath caught in your throat, the music softly blasting in the background long forgotten. Nicholas stood by your side, leaning against the counter, watching you more than actually helping — just as he always did. His attentive eyes bore into the side of your face shamelessly, and you sent him a quick glance, small smirk tugging on the corner of your lips as you processed his words.

"Sure", you replied simply, chuckling to yourself, even though you could hear your heart pound in your throat. "I'm sure you say that to every girl you hang out with".

It was Nicholas' time to chuckle. He shifted, leaning forward to look over your shoulder, his eyes following you mixing the dough in the small bowl. Your attempts to stop the trembling of your hands were useless as the spoon slipped out of your grasp, falling onto the floor with a defeating bang.

"Easy there, love", he teased, leaning down to grab it for you, leaving a soft peck on your thigh as he did. An unwanted shiver run down your spine, and you found yourself turning your head to look at him as he straightened his posture, towering over you. "I don't. You're the only one I call pretty".

You gulped as Nicholas met your gaze, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he studied your nervous expression. You couldn't help the heat that spread across your body at his words, and you smiled, a hint of shyness in your expression — and he noticed immediately. He always did.

Without another word, he handed you the spoon, and you nodded in quiet "thanks", your gaze dropping to his lips for a second before you went back to mixing the dough.

You had hoped he couldn't feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y'know", Nicholas continued casually, his hands founding place on your hips as if they belonged there. You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue, instinctively leaning back against his chest. "We should go out sometime. There's this nice restaurant on the other side of town — I think you'd like it".

You gulped, trying your hardest to seem relaxed, but you could feel your muscles clenching, your mouth feeling dryer than usual. Yet you couldn't help the warmth that spread across your stomach. Was he...?

"Are you asking me out on a date?", you chuckled, turning around in his grasp, tilting your head so that you could have a look at him. He was so much taller than you, so much bigger — and you wondered if it wasn't one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place. With your hands on Nicholas' chest, playing with the collar of his black t-shirt, you could feel his heart pound against your palms.

Nicholas laughed, although it sounded strained, almost forced, his grip on you tightening for a spare second. "Nah. I don't do this shit anymore. Just thought it would be nice to take you there".

With a hint of hesitation, you met his gaze, your smile dropping almost in time with your heart sinking in your chest. You bit the inside of your mouth, desperately trying not to show how much his words affected you — but they did. And he noticed. Sometimes you felt as if he knew you better than you knew yourself, looking right through you as if you were invisible. And you hated yourself for letting him get to you in such ways. You hated yourself for holding your heart out on your sleeve, and you hated him for breaking it again, again... and again.

"Um... yeah. I don't know. You might as well take someone else", you whispered, fixing the wrinkles on his shirt before slipping out of his grasp, turning away without another word. Your throat felt dry, and you struggled to keep your composure, feeling as if you were punched in the gut.

Were you overreacting? Maybe. Were you still hoping he might feel the same way and was just really, really good at hiding it? Definitely.

"I don't want to go with anyone else", he urged, trying to get closer to you again, the warmth of his body surrounding you, almost suffocating now. Although his words made your heart race, blush creeping up onto your face, you didn't let him get any closer. You knew his touch would hurt. And you knew you couldn't allow him to hurt you anymore.

"Nicholas, I can't do this", you mumbled. Not once had he seen you cry — and you weren't going to let him. Your voice was confident, not shaking even once, as you turned towards him, your hard gaze unfaltering, even though his disappointed expression made your heart break just a little. "You're crossing a line. Weren't you the one who made those stupid rules? Weren't you the one who wanted— wanted for it to be nothing more than a good fuck once in a while? Look what's happening to us", you babbled, even though with every word you said, your heart sunk deeper into your chest. It hurt to say it out loud, but you had to face the truth — you crossed a line. Maybe it was all fun and games to him, but it wasn't to you. Not anymore.

Nicholas seemed to be taken aback by your sudden outburst. He stepped back, as if being this close to you caused him physical pain.

He stayed quiet for a while. You could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the kitchen as you watched him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

"You're right. We shouldn't", he nodded, meeting your gaze with a hint of hesitation. "Which doesn't mean I'm gonna stop kissing you. It's the one rule I want to keep on breaking— If you let me".

You let a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, your eyes softening. Nicholas, noticing the change in your expression, stepped closer again, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter, his hands finding place on your cheeks, as if they belonged there.

"I'd rather die than to stop kissing you", he whispered, pushing a strand of your untamed hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched, and you clutched his shirt between your fingers, as if to ground yourself to the moment.

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you'd grown to love him, how safe you felt in his arms, how you wanted to be something more than just a friend to him. But you didn't. Instead, you stepped on your tiptoes to press a soft, loving peck to his lips, hoping it'd say what you didn't dare to.

You let the smoke leave your mouth, watching it swirl in the air only to dissipate seconds later. The rain was now pouring down from the sky, and you wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. You shivered, hugging yourself tighter, not even caring about the dampness of your clothes and the raindrops falling down your forehead, messing up your perfectly done makeup.

The sound of the door creaking open caught you off guard — not so many people knew about the backside of the bar, and you'd hoped it would stay this way. You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing in hopes to catch a glimpse of the person that had, unknowingly, disturbed the one moment of peace you had in a long time. The last person you'd expect to see, though, was Nicholas. He looked stupidly handsome in a black, skin-tight shirt, worn out jeans and some white sneakers, and you hated him for it.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realised he wasn't alone.

A loud, annoyingly sweet and high-pitched laugh echoed through the silence, along with the already familiar clicking of the girl's heels against the concrete pavement. You hoped that somehow, he wouldn't notice you; God, how badly you wished you could become invisible for a moment. You blinked rapidly, keeping your composure, even though you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs. With narrowed eyes, you looked her up and down, almost rolling them as you noticed her leaning against Nicholas' shoulder for balance as she kept on giggling. She was completely drunk, but Nicholas, on the other hand, seemed sober. His hand rested on her waist, slowly guiding her down the steps, keeping quiet as she tripped over her feet clumsily, laughing loudly. The urge to roll your eyes was too strong, now, as you balled up against the wall, partially trying to hide under your jacket, your knees pulled to your chest, your knuckles turning white as you gripped on the wet ground beneath you.

As they got closer, you couldn't help but feel your heart race, knowing there was nowhere to hide. You sighed, hastily taking a puff of your cigarette, losing count of how many you've already smoked. You had hoped he wouldn't notice you through the wall of rain, that he'd walk past you as if you didn't exist. You shifted on the ground, your head dropping back against the wall as you stared up at the clouded sky, exhaling the smoke into the damp air. You tried your best to seem relaxed, but you couldn't help the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes — your breathing getting heavier the closer they got.

The world seemed to stop spinning for a second when you met Nicholas' gaze. Surprise was written all over his face, replaced by concern as soon as he realised you were soaking wet, out in the open rain. You smacked your glossy lips together, your eyes falling to the ground as you heard him approach you with a few, long steps.

"Y/N? What— what are you doing here?", he said softly, crouching down next to you, forgetting about the girl he left with. You didn't look at him right away; you knew you couldn't. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you took a puff of your cigarette, staring at the ground blankly — wishing a black hole would come crashing down and swallow you whole.

"Hey, are you okay? Wanna go in—".

"I'm fine, Nicholas", you interrupted mid sentence, finally finding courage to look him in the eyes. His brows were slightly furrowed, concern written all over his face as he carefully studied you, gulping. You had never called him Nicholas before. It was always Nic, Nico, or even Chavez if you were being playful. The sound of his full name falling from your lips was so unfamiliar, it sent shivers down his spine. You took a deep breath, stubbing the remains of your cigarette out slowly. "Don't keep your company waiting".

For a second, he seemed confused, as if he forgot about the person he left with in the first place. He turned his head, watching the girl as she sat on the bench, swinging her legs in the air happily, mumbling nonsense. You rolled your eyes and snarled, moving to get up from the ground — your ass felt sore, you were soaked, and you wanted to get Nicholas out of your sight as soon as possible.

"I'm just driving her home", he explained, stepping closer towards you as you hastily stood up, wrapping your jacket tighter around you.

"Nicholas, I don't care", the coldness again. "It's certainly none of my concern. You seemed to be pretty close, though", you couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head.

"It's not like that", he groaned, quickly getting irritated at the indifference in your voice and in your eyes. You bit back a sigh, instead rolling your eyes, fixing your damp hair in hopes to tame it, make yourself look better than you felt. "Let me drive you home. We can talk about it, yeah?".

You found yourself shaking your head before he could even finish the sentence, taking a step back to put some distance between the two of you. Nicholas couldn't help but let his eyes roam over your soaked form, how absolutely beautiful you looked, even when drenched in the open rain.

"No, Nicholas. It's better if I go on my own", you stepped back when he tried to reach for you, as if his touch would set you on fire. "We—", you pointed your finger towards him and then you again, "we don't work. We're done. You hear me? I— I can't".

You hated the way your voice trembled, but you were sure of what you wanted. You knew you couldn't have it, and no matter how much it hurt, you had to protect your heart. Maybe it was too late, though — when you looked into his eyes, wide and pleading, as if asking you not to let go — you weren't so sure you could.

"What do you mean 'we're done'?", he asked carefully, running a hand through his messy locks, staring at you like a lost puppy.

"I meant exactly that. You're fucking kissing another girl in there and— you broke the fucking rule. The one that was so fucking important to you in the first place!", you snarled, barely able to control your anger and sorrow anymore. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, and you took a deep, painful breath, leaning back against the wall in hopes to calm yourself down.

He knew you were serious. He could see it in your eyes, in the way you carried yourself tonight. And he wanted to slam his head against the wall, because he did all of this to get your attention. Maybe he had expected you to end up tangled in his sheets after a mind-blowing make up sex — but he didn't expect you to give up on him. To give up on what you had.

"It's not like that, Y/N, just—".

"Fucking stop it, Nicholas!", you hissed, taking a step forward, tugging at the hem of your dress to pull it down your thighs. "I meant it. I— I'm fucking tired. Exhausted, even", you laughed, although you weren't amused. "I don't want to be one of your girls. It hurts".

You didn't wait for him to reply; you couldn't even look at him. Instead, you turned around, quickly disappearing in the thick rain that continued to pour from the dark sky.

He didn't come after you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ♡

For the next week, you didn't see him.

Not that you wanted to — but the emptiness in your heart only deepened the more days passed by. You tried to get yourself busy, manoeuvring between work and taking extra assignments and getting with your friends in the weekends. No matter how hard you tried, though, the thought of him always lingered in the back of your mind.

It was Saturday evening, and you were getting ready to go out with your friends. You finished off your makeup by putting a lipgloss on, smacking your lips together to spread it evenly. You couldn't help but feel your stomach hurl with excitement at the thought of going out, maybe meeting someone new, forgetting everything for a night.

As you stared out of your window and admired the panorama of New York, constantly living and breathing, you felt smaller than ever. The weight on your heart seemed to follow you everywhere, even if you tried to leave it in your pocket for just a few hours. You caught your own reflection in the thick glass, and you didn't even recognise who you were anymore. Maybe falling for Nicholas was the worst mistake you've ever made, but you couldn't deny he made you feel more alive than ever.

The tight, black, backless top you wore clung to your figure in the best way possible, your perky nipples just barely visible from underneath the thick material. Your thighs were almost fully exposed, a simple, black skirt ending just below your ass — it was so out of your comfort zone, but somehow, it made you feel better. Maybe you wanted to prove to everyone, including yourself, that you weren't thinking about him, that you got over the whole mess he'd recently put you through. You sighed heavily, looking out of the window as if the answers for all your doubts were written in the sky.

You fixed your hair, patiently waiting for the right time to leave. It was only beginning to get dark, the sunset creeping into the room casting golden shadows over your face. You couldn't help but wonder what Nicholas was up to — as you stared at the horizon, your hand wandered to the phone laying on your vanity. Maybe you had expected to see a message from him, a missed call; anything that would signal he still cared. Disappointment bloomed in your stomach when you were met with a few messages from your friends, a notification from Instagram and a reminder to take your daily dose of medicine. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, throwing the phone onto your bed before you shuffled towards the door.

A sudden, annoyingly loud sound of your doorbell caught you off guard. You hadn't expected any visitors tonight, neither were you waiting for a package or a letter. You could feel a lump in your throat as your feet moved on their own, guiding you towards the door slowly but surely. The feeling of uneasiness seemed to bloom in your stomach, as if you knew — or maybe, expected — exactly who was waiting at the door. The doorbell rang again, cutting through the silence like a knife, and you froze, your hand towering over the door handle.

You cursed the building's owner for not putting a viewfinder in the doors.

You turned the lock, wincing when your keychain rustled loudly, as if to inform the person on the other side that you were, indeed, home. You couldn't hide even if you wanted to, now — so, without a second thought, you opened the door.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw Nicholas. You cursed him for looking so stupidly good as you hastily looked him up and down. You sent him a glare, not saying a word, because... truthfully, there was nothing to say anymore. His gaze lingered on your boobs for a second longer than appropriate, before moving down, focusing on your exposed legs instead. He leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened, as if nothing between you changed.

"Going somewhere?", he mocked, inviting himself in, taking off his leather jacket as he went. The intoxicating smell of his cologne filled the room, wrapping around you like a comfortingly familiar blanket. You bit the inside of your mouth, not quite sure what to do, although you could feel your stomach tighten at his mere presence alone. Absolutely fucking pathetic.

"What are you doing here?", you asked carefully, keeping a safe distance as he entered your kitchen, moving around as if he owned the place. Nicholas didn't answer right away — instead he took a cup from the cupboard, pouring himself some orange juice, his movements slow and deliberate. You felt your cheeks heat up; his arrogant carelessness making annoyance bloom low in your stomach. "I said we're fucking done, Nicholas. Why do you act like a fucking child? Why the fuck are you even here?".

He leaned against the kitchen counter, clearly indifferent to your anger. A small smirk played on his lips as he took a small sip of the juice, tapping his fingers against the countertop. Your gaze lingered on his hand for longer than necessary, but your expression stayed neutral, your arms crossed on your chest as if to protect yourself from his effortless charm.

"This is good— Where'd you buy it?", Nicholas asked, clearly unbothered by the glares you sent his way. You rolled your eyes; the barely concealed anger began to overcome you, and you clenched your fists in order to calm the storm going on in your head.

"It's a fucking orange juice", you muttered, shaking your head, your eyes squeezed shut in disbelief. "Why are we having this conversation right now, I mean— Are you for fucking real?" you stuttered, irritated but not quite sure what to do, how to get rid of him. "Nicholas, go away. I've got somewhere to be".

He met your gaze, and for the first time that night, he wasn't wearing that arrogant smirk, his expression dropping a little as he carefully studied you. As much as you felt confident about the way you looked, you couldn't help but sink into the ground as his dark gaze lingered on your legs for longer than needed. Nicholas raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was judging your choice of clothing, a mocking, playful smile making its way onto his lips.

"I'm sure your girlfriends will be fine", he licked his lips, putting the — now empty — cup in the sink before walking off in the direction of your room nonchalantly.

You had no other choice but to follow, your feet shuffling against the wooden floor agonisingly slow as you stared at his back blankly. And you absolutely hated the way your heart fluttered at the sight of his muscles clenching as he walked.

"Yeah, they will. I'm not going out with them", you rasped, feeling a lump starting to form in your throat as you walked past Nicholas, plopping on your bed — just now realising he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. You didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on fixing the crinkles on your fluffy blanket. You saw Nicholas move from the corner of your eye; his brown, attentive eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest.

"Then who are going out with?", he asked slowly and lowly, curious yet scared of the answer. His tone left you no choice but to look at him sheepishly, fluttering your lashes as you bit the inside of your mouth. You knew exactly where this was going, and it meant one thing and one thing only: trouble.

"I'm meeting someone, Nicholas. It's none of your concern anyway, so I'd appreciate it if you—".

"No. You're not doing that", Nicholas chuckled, although there was no humour in his tone at all — his voice an almost animalistic hiss, dripping with venom. You rose up to your feet, anger and annoyance blooming in your chest as you let his words sink in. You sent him a glare, just now noticing how dark his eyes became. He was breathing heavily, leaning against the doorframe, trapping you inside, giving you no choice but to stay where you were.

You turned on your feet, walking to the window only to stare at the New York panorama; you could practically hear the roar of the city through the thin glass, making your heart ache with longing. It was supposed to be a fun night — you were supposed to forget about him, just for one night, maybe meet someone new. Yet there he was, trapping you inside your own apartment as if you were a prisoner.

"How comes you tell me what to fucking do?", you snapped, turning around only to face him again. You couldn't control your anger anymore, not even if you tried — his arrogant smirk only spurring you on, causing you to close the distance between you in a few, big steps.

"I just want you to fucking leave me alone. I don't want to see you, I don't want to listen to anything you say. You can go back to being a man whore now — don't let me hold you back anymore", you snarled, pushing him back in hopes to get him to listen, just for once. Your breath was heavy as you watched Nicholas straighten his posture, pushing himself off the wall swiftly. His smirk vanished, and so did your confidence as he towered over you, almost making you feel nauseous. You swallowed hard, instinctively taking a step back to increase the distance between you, your face feeling stiff as you watched his dangerous expression.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that", he hissed, his tone leaving you no room to protest. Your throat felt dry as you chuckled lowly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Big, dangerous Nicholas. All you do is fucking talk", you chuckled again, one of your hands moving up only to tap his cheek lightly, as if he was a little boy. Your voice was sharp, but there was a light edge to it — a challenge. Nicholas' gaze dropped to your lips, his jaw tight as he watched an amused smirk appear on your face. "You're a fucking asshole, and I want nothing to do with you. You had already made your choice. Now, get the fuck out".

He didn't move. Neither did you. You'd wondered what he'd do next — if he'd listen to you, just this one time, or if he'd kill you right on the spot. The anticipation made your heart race, your hands shaking nervously, arms falling limp by your sides.

Just as you were about to move, to break the thick silence by shuffling to the door, Nicholas hand clamped down on your neck, cutting your airflow in one, swift movement.

You gasped when you met his gaze — his pupils completely blown out, swallowing the darkness of his irises; brows furrowed as he studied your face, the corner of his mouth turning up at the look of fear on your face. He really did find the whole situation amusing, meanwhile you struggled against him, trying to free yourself from the bruising grip he had on you.

"Say that again", he hissed lowly, leaning down so that he could be face to face with you. His eyes remained serious, although a small smirk made its way onto his face as he watched you wince and grip his forearm in order to free yourself. You knew Nicholas would never hurt you, but the way he looked at you sent shiver down your spine. The feelings you tried to bury deep inside your heart came flooding back — no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't shake them.

You took a shallow breath, gulping audibly when Nicholas brought you closer by your neck, his lips now millimetres away from yours. He tilted his head, studying your face as if he could see right through you — as if he could sense the longing for him that you so desperately tried to hide. His eyes remained cold, and you felt his hot breath against your cheek, your face growing warmer with each passing second.

"I fucking hate you", you spat, your voice strangled due to the pressure his hand put on your neck. The more you said it, the less you believed that's how you truly felt. Your words were filled with venom, but there was also an unmistakable crack to your voice that defeated you. A small chuckle erupted from Nicholas' chest — and you knew you had already lost the battle you unknowingly fought in your head.

"Mhm. And you aren't... jealous of me? You didn't look so happy about my little company last weekend", he snarled, letting go of your neck only to bring you closer by your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin with unspoken possessiveness. You took a deep breath, your hands rubbing the sore skin he just let go of, your eyes squinting as a soft laugh escaped your parted lips. You shook your head. The audacity of men.

"What do you want me to say? It was not a part of the deal. You broke the rules of our little arrangement, but when it comes to me seeing other people, suddenly it's a problem?", you snapped, putting your hands on his chest to at least put some distance between the two of you. You weren't sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Nicholas?".

For a second, it seemed as if he was speechless. His mouth opened and closed as if he was a god damn fish — words dying in his throat as he watched you with an unfaltering expression. You huffed, pushing him back until his hands fell from your hips to stupidly swing by his sides. "You're pathetic. Get out. I won't repeat myself".

Your throat burned with the things you wanted to say — how much you hated him for how he played you; how badly he hurt you; how madly you've fallen for him. Instead, you just watched as he took a deep breath, collecting himself, his gaze lowering to the ground as if he wasn't sure what to say.

After a few seconds, that felt like an eternity, you heard him shuffle towards the door. Your heart ached, and you weren't quite sure why — you wanted him to leave. He listened to you, just for once, and for some reason, all you wanted to do was yell: "stay". You mindlessly toyed with your fingers, watching as his hand towered over the doorknob, hesitating just for a second.

"I don't share".

Nicholas' voice came out as barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the gravelly silence, you wouldn't even catch it. Your eyes almost fell out of your head, you could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the room — you were almost convinced Nicholas could, too.

"W-what?", your voice came out an octave higher than you'd anticipated, making you want to slam your head against the wall. You watched Nicholas' back as he stood still, his head tilting just slightly to give you a side-eyed look.

"You heard me", he growled, much louder this time, before slowly turning towards you, as if you were his prey. His gaze landed on you, confident and serious, catching you off guard. You momentarily forgotten about every insult you wanted to call him — your hands clutched in fists by your sides, the all-familiar heat filling your stomach as it hurled with need. "You are not going to see anyone else. You're mine, whether you like it or not".

You blinked slowly, watching as Nicholas got closer again. The room suddenly got smaller, the air around you thicker. Your head shot up as he towered over you, giving you no room to protest before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You wanted to protest — hit him, slap him in the face, get a reaction out of him; humiliate him just as he did you so many times. Yet all you could do was stand there, your feet planted into the floor, and you couldn't move; couldn't react. Your eyes closed involuntarily, your heart beating out of your chest as you obeyed him; what other choice did you have? Lying to yourself was much better than facing the undeniable truth — you wanted this. You wanted to get a reaction out of him, to provoke him, watch him break and fight for whatever you two had. And, based on the way he pulled you closer by your hips, pressing against you as if he didn't want to let go — it definitely worked.

You desperately kissed him back, unable to hide what you truly wanted no more — your hands tangling in his hair, tugging at the strands with a little too much force than you anticipated. You felt Nicholas' mocking smile against your lips, a soft groan that you oh, missed so dearly leaving his mouth when he felt the harsh sting on his scalp. The pain only seemed to fuel him further, his fingers digging into your waist as if he wanted to leave bruises there — claiming you as his for anyone else to see. Your breaths mingled together, short and shallow, as you devoured each other as if it was the last thing you were going to do. Your mouth parted in an involuntary moan when Nicholas pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, his greedy touch hurriedly backing you against the window.

As soon as your bare back made contact with the cool glass, a shiver ran down your spine — an involuntary squeak leaving your throat, being swallowed by his greedy lips on yours. Nicholas wouldn't let you breathe, putting all of his gathered anger, annoyance and lust into the kiss, making sure you could feel him all over you.

"You drive me fucking insane", he breathed out, slipping his knee between your legs just as his lips began to travel down your throat, biting the sensitive skin there, soothing the pain with his tongue immediately after. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolling back into your head, your nails raking through his messy curls to ground yourself in any way you could. "Still hate me?".

You let out a breathless chuckle that quickly turned into a moan — Nicholas' breath tickled your collarbone, his mouth working on your sensitive skin as if he couldn't get enough.

"More than ever", you choked out, pulling his head up so that you could reconnect your lips, already missing the addicting taste of his mouth. Your tongue parted his lips, and Nicholas groaned lowly, the sound bubbling in his throat as he greedily kissed you back. No matter how hard you tried to keep your guard up, to push him away and slap him across his stupidly handsome face — you couldn't bring yourself to do so. Maybe it was the way his hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing your skin as if he was scared you'd slip away; or maybe it was the smell, taste, warmth of him on your body. There was no denying he was the only one that could make you feel this good — and he barely even started.

So you allowed him to do whatever he pleased.

One of Nicholas' hands travelled all over your side, lifting the hem of your little top as it moved up your stomach slowly, teasingly. His long, thick fingers brushed against your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, shiver running down your spine. Nicholas reached the bottom of your bare boobs, and a deep groan left his mouth when you arched into his touch.

"No bra?", he chuckled lowly, pulling away to look into your eyes. "You're such a slut. You were ready to jump into a random guy's bed, weren't you?".

You were unable to reply. Anger bubbled in your chest, your cheeks growing warm as you sent him a glare through your lashes.

"Says you. A literal definition of a man whore", you rolled your eyes, your nails raking down his shirt—covered chest. Nicholas' eyes hardened as he stared down at you, his hand on your hip tightening in an almost painful grip. His nails dig into your skin as he pulled you closer, his other hand pulling on the hem of your shirt to lift it up; your boobs spilling out of the tight fabric almost immediately.

You gasped when your overheated skin got exposed to the cold air. Your nipples hardened under Nicholas' dark eyes, and you watched as he run his tongue along his bottom lip, clearly impressed by the reaction he managed to get out of you. You fought the urge to wet your lips as you watched him, anticipation blooming deep in your stomach.

Nicholas' breath tickled your lips as he finally met your gaze again. He smirked down at you, somehow pressing you harder against the cool glass, the grip he had on your hip unforgiving.

"Yet you keep on coming back. Why the fuck do you keep on coming back?", he groaned against your lips, his hand finally meeting the soft skin of your breast. Nicholas watched as your back arched off the glass, your eyes threatening to close as he squeezed your boob harshly, the feeling of his palm against your nipple heavenly.

You stifled a whine that wanted to erupt from your throat. Instead, you gripped Nicholas' broad shoulders — your long, manicured nails digging into his skin as you desperately tried to maintain your composure. Your mouth parted, and a prolonged, desperate breath left you before you could stop it.

"I don't know", you swallowed loudly; your lips brushed against Nicholas' as you spoke, his eyes melting into yours with intensity that left you breathless. He chuckled, tilting his head slightly; a playful, teasing smile played on his lips as he tugged on your nipple with his forefinger and thumb, catching you off guard. You moaned, your whole body reacting to his all-too-familiar touch as a shiver run down your spine. Nicholas cursed under his breath, his bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as he carefully studied your face.

"You're not a good liar. Just admit it. You know I can make you feel better than anyone. You know you're mine. You know I'm yours, baby".

You let out a shaky breath you didn't realise you were holding, your eyes locking with his — the weight of the unspoken words heaved on your shoulders, making it impossible for you to think straight. You let your head fall back against the window as you desperately tried to put some distance between the two of you. The hand playing with your breast moved down your body, reaching the bottom of your thigh before he hooked your leg around his waist.

"Nicholas—", you choked out, your lashes fluttering as you looked up at him, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. He hummed lowly, squeezing the soft skin of your thigh before his hand slipped under the hem of your skirt.

"Tell me to leave, and I will", he whispered, his fingertips gently rubbing against your sensitive inner-thigh, once again making you gulp. "Say it, Y/N. What do you want?".

Nicholas shifted closer, his face now inches away from yours, his eyes boring into yours with intensity that made your breath hitch in your throat. You knew you should tell him to leave, to make him feel like he made you plenty of times before. Your voice died in your throat, and before you knew it, you were kissing him again.

You were tired of acting like you didn't want him. You were tired of the sleepless nights you spent thinking about this exact moment. Your hands moved down Nicholas' chest, slipping under his shirt to brush against his well-defined stomach. Your leg against his waist tightened, and so did Nicholas' grip on your thigh as he groaned into your mouth, his hips tightly pressed against your inner thigh.

"I want you, Nic. All of you. I want it so fucking bad it hurts", you breathed into his mouth before sucking his bottom lip lewdly, your hips rocking against his thigh securely pressed between your legs. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, silently asking Nicholas to take it off, and he obeyed. You barely broke the kiss as he lifted it over his head, throwing it onto the floor carelessly. You could feel the hardness of his erection press against your bare skin, the rough material of his jeans grinding against your thigh.

"Then take me", he groaned into your mouth, his voice filled with urgency. His hips snapped forward, experimentally grinding into your thigh, letting you feel just how ready he was for you. You mewled like a frightened kitten, the adrenaline pumping in your veins, your heart feeling as if it could jump out of your chest. Your body betrayed how you truly felt, your pelvis snapping towards Nicholas, as if you couldn't bare being away from him. "Claim me as yours for everyone else to see".

Your head was spinning, and his words didn't help with the burning sensation spreading across your stomach. The closer Nicholas' hand got to your clothed centre, the more your back arched off the window, your erect nipples rubbing against his bare chest. More moans slipped past your lips, and you didn't hold them back — you couldn't, even if you tried. With the little strength you had left, you pushed him back, leaving him no choice but to fall on your bed. It creaked in protest at Nicholas' weight, but he only chuckled, eyeing you up and down hungrily. He leaned back on his elbows, his feet dangling off the mattress as he patiently waited for your next move. His obedience was surprising — but not unpleasant. With a newfound confidence, you made your way towards him, your hair falling over your shoulders in a way that had Nicholas' breath hitch. His pupils were dilated, chest heaving as he inhaled sharply, watching you with a lopsided smile.

Slowly and teasingly, you pulled your top over your head, throwing it onto the ground, standing by the side of the bed now half-naked. A shiver run down your spine as Nicholas sat up, his face now centimetres away from your chest, his dark eyes staring up at you intensely.

"Take this off", he ordered, pointing towards your little skirt, his tone leaving no room to protest; not that you wanted to. Your hands were shaky as you hastily reached for the waistband of your skirt, looking down at him for approval — it was incredible how much power he held over you, even when you were on top, standing before him; towering over him. Slowly, you tugged on the zipper, feeling the fabric loosen against your waist before falling to the floor with a soft thump. Your heart raced in your chest as you stepped out of the skirt, leaving you almost fully exposed before Nicholas' hungry eyes.

In an instant, his hands were on you, as if he couldn't bare not touching you for a second longer. Your chest heaved with uneven breaths, your knees buckling as Nicholas' hands found place on your thighs, pulling you closer towards the edge of the bed. His eyes roamed down your body, taking in every single detail, that, in his eyes, made you perfect. He eyed the skimpy, black thong that covered your most intimate part, his eyes glimmering in the dim light, as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"You're so fucking hot", he groaned, tugging on the waistband of your underwear before letting it snap against your skin. You hissed, grounding yourself with your hands on his chiselled shoulders, uncontrollably moving closer towards him.

"Those fucking tits of yours," Nicholas groaned, throwing his head back dramatically, his hands moving down your sides only to rest on your hips. He licked his lips; his dark, penetrative eyes gazed right back at you, causing your chest to heave with uneven breaths. "They're perfect. You're perfect. And all mine, aren't you?" he growled, not once looking away from you as his tongue darted out, swirling around your left nipple with undeniable precision. You threw your head back, your back arching into his mouth, hearing Nicholas groan into your flesh. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing you plush against him as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he wanted to lose himself completely in you. He kissed the valley between your boobs, biting the sensitive skin there, his attentive eyes following your every reaction.

"Yours— All yours, Nick", you whined, words dying in your throat as his hands travelled down your back, over the curve of your ass, squeezing your buttcheeks roughly, pushing your pelvis towards him.

His nails dig into your skin, making you let out an involuntary moan, your fingers raking through his hair, toying with the soft strands.

"That's my girl", Nicholas' voice was filled with pride, and a prolonged sigh left his mouth, as if this moment was everything he dreamed about. His eyes looked up at you, filled with raw need, his pupils completely blown out, swallowing his irises fully. You gulped at the praise, looking down at him with flushed cheeks and pounding heart. Nicholas licked a long stripe up your sternum, leaving your skin burning and glistening under his hungry gaze.

Slowly and deliberately, his hands moved up and down your sides, caressing your soft skin with an almost gentle care, as if he tried to memorise how your flesh felt against his fingertips. His lips moved down your body, lingering on your ribs, leaving pecks as he went. The occasional glide of his tongue against your skin left you trembling, your knees bucking under the immerse pleasure as they hit the bed frame. Nicholas' big hands kept you upright, guiding you to straddle his lap, and you obediently did so. With your legs now on both sides of his thick thighs and with the flames licking your insides, you tugged on Nicholas' hair, tilting his head towards you, meeting his gaze with a small smile. His eyes were half-lidded, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, the sting on his scalp only adding to his arousal. You could feel his cock press into your clothed centre, straining against his pants, practically begging to be freed. With a sly smile, you tested the waters, grinding your hips back and fourth against him, causing a small whine to escape from his throat.

"You're mine", you murmured, brushing your lips against his; just enough to feel the heat radiating off him, his eyes locking with yours as he nodded. You tutted, tugging on his strands tighter, "Nuh-uh. Not good enough. Say it".

Your voice left no room to protest. Nicholas gulped, his hands grounding you on his erection, pushing you down with enough force to make you hum. "I'm all yours, Y/N. Always had been", he inhaled sharply, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway. The connection between you was almost palpable, knocking the breath out of your lungs, causing your chest to heave with every sharp intake of breath. You've never felt more alive than then; on Nicholas' lap, with his attentive eyes on your face like you were the only one that mattered. You scratched the soft skin behind his ears, your thumbs rubbing soft circles onto his cheeks as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, you took things slow, savouring the taste of him on the tip of your tongue, feeling his hands on your ass, guiding you to rut against his clothed arousal. Your moans were breathless and swallowed by Nicholas' mouth as he eagerly swirled his tongue around yours, one of his indecisive hands travelling up your back to tangle in your hair.

You were right where you were supposed to.

"Fuck me", Nicholas chuckled lowly as you pulled away, moving down to nib and kiss his defined jaw, feeling his soft stubble scratch your skin as you did. You grinned against his skin, pushing him down to make him lay flat on the bed, and he obeyed, taking you with him as he went. Your hair fell on your face as you towered over him, your palms flat on both sides of his head. Slowly and sensually, you leaned down, pushing your hair out of the way to press a lingering kiss on the side of Nicholas' neck. He groaned — the sound vibrated against your lips as you licked a stripe up his throat, biting the sensitive spot under his jaw that you knew made him squirm each time. Nicholas' hands guided you, pressing you flat against his chest with a tight grip on your ass, his hips snapping upwards in search of any kind of friction he could get. Your appreciative hums were muffled by his skin as you sucked, bit and kissed on every inch you could reach, slowly moving down towards his chest.

"Mark me up for everyone to see", Nicholas choked out, his grip on your ass almost painful, now, as he used it for leverage to grind his cock into your pussy. You moaned shamelessly at his words, feeling fireworks erupt in your stomach as the adrenaline took over. You flicked your tongue against his prominent collarbone, sucking hickeys into his tan skin, pressing kisses on every beauty mark adorning his chest you could find.

By the time you were satisfied with your work, Nicholas was a groaning mess underneath you. His spit-covered skin glistened under the city lights creeping into the room, the contours of his face even more prominent now. Purple marks adorned the sides of his neck, collarbones and the column of his throat — you felt a rush of joy fill your heart at the sight. The thought of him being so obviously marked by you made your heart race, and, with a satisfied smile, you gently run your fingertips over the love bites you left just below Nicholas' collarbone.

"Beautiful", you mumbled, tilting your head slightly, watching as a wide, dazed smile made its way onto Nicholas' face. You felt him throb underneath you, his patience slipping with every second; and, just as you thought about how good he was doing under your control, he flipped you over.

Your back hit the soft mattress, Nicholas' face inches away from yours as he crawled in between your legs, spreading them wider on both sides of his defined hips. His hands slowly travelled up your body, memorising each curve of your body; unrelenting gaze following every reaction he managed to get out of you. The feeling of his breath against your lips made you dizzy, and your back arched off the mattress in desperate search of friction that he wasn't granting you. Your nipples rubbed against his chest, and you clawed on his defined shoulders as his fingers towered over the waistband of your thong, just barely brushing over your sensitive skin.

An uninvited shudder ran down your spine as you met Nicholas' gaze again. He slid the thong down your legs, slowly, delicately, almost as if he was afraid he'd break you if he pressed too hard. Nicholas chuckled lowly, throwing your damp underwear on the floor with a little care, leaning back to look at your — now exposed — pussy.

One of his hands reached up, cupping your breast for a second, long enough to make you arch against him, before it moved up, wrapping around your throat. Nicholas' grip was firm and tight enough to make you deliciously lightheaded, and you gasped, feeling a strong sting on the side of your ass.

"Such a dirty fuckin' girl. You're soaking", he cooed, the previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found. All you could see was the all consuming darkness and lust, drifting just below the surface, ready to be freed. "You've been dying to have my cock inside you, weren't you?".

You tried your best to nod, but it was nearly impossible when he pressed his thumb against your pulse point, sending you a dirty, open-mouthed smirk that made your stomach hurl. Another spank against the side of your ass, and your legs were tightening around Nicholas' hips, your own grinding into the air in search of any kind of relief.

He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying the control he had over you. Your jaw was slack, every muscle in your body tense as you waited, obediently leaning down against the pillows, your limp arms falling on both sides of your head.

"Want me to make you feel good, baby?", he asked, grinning when you tried to nod again, his grip on your throat tightening just barely. White dots erupted in front of your eyes, your chest tightening due to the lack of air in your lungs, feeling as if you could pass out any second now. With the last ounce of power you had, you gripped Nicholas' forearm, your nails digging into his skin with enough force to leave marks. Your pussy clenched around nothing, practically begging to be touched, to be taken care of, your body now shaking in Nicholas' tight grasp.

You gasped abruptly as his hand loosened around your throat, finally giving you room to breathe. Instead, it travelled down your body, exploring every inch, every curve. Nicholas leaned down again just as his fingers brushed over your pussy — the touch feather-like, but enough to make you rasp for more.

"Nick", you choked out, reaching out for him, raking your nails down his back. Nicholas' other arm was outstretched beside your head, keeping him upright as he towered over you, once again leaning down to barely graze your bottom lip with his teeth. "Shit, I need you. Need you so bad".

Your voice came out strangled, but you didn't care; you weren't afraid to beg him for what you wanted. Any ounce of self-control left you whenever he was close, but you didn't mind. He set your insides on fire like no one else could.

When Nicholas licked his lips, smiling cruelly before pressing the two of his fingers against your clit, all you could do was gasp. He knew exactly what to do with his fingers and how to use them, circling your sensitive bud as if you were the only thing that mattered. He hissed through his teeth, clicking his tongue as your jaw dropped, brows furrowing as quiet moans escaped you.

"So wet f'me, fuck", he mused, his lips ghosting over your jaw just as two of his fingers slipped inside your tight hole. You cried out, nails digging into his forearm resting beside your head as it fell back against the sheets. You clenched around his digits as he pushed them as deep as they could go, burying them inside you; curling them upwards to get more sweet moans out of your swollen lips. Your eyes rolled back into your head, chest heaving with uneven breaths as Nicholas' breath tickled your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe teasingly. "So fuckin' tight. Just squeezing my fingers", he chuckled darkly. His voice sent shiver down your spine, and you found yourself reaching for him, your hands roaming over his chest, arms and shoulders as if you couldn't bear being away from him. The feeling of his fingers buried deep within your walls combined with the feeling of Nicholas' hard, muscular body on top of you was almost too much, and you were choking on your breath, almost embarrassed by how quickly he made you lose control.

That's when he started to pump his digits in and out of you, keeping his movements slow and steady, a memorable gasp leaving your throat every time his palm met your stiff clit. Your eyes were wide and glossy, mouth wide agape as you tried to speak, signal how good he made you feel; except that you didn't have to. Nicholas could see it, feel it, God, even hear it. The wet, squelching noise filled the silence as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, hitting that special spot that had you seeing stars, your thighs threatening to close around his forearm.

"Shit, Nick, oh my fucking God", you cried out just as your hips rose off the mattress, bucking into his hand greedily, as if you couldn't get enough. Nicholas chuckled, his breath warm against your skin as he trailed kisses down the side of your neck, his skilled tongue flicking against your collarbone teasingly.

"Yes, baby, you're doing so good f'me", he cooed, mouth moving up your body only to reconnect your lips hastily. You moaned into the kiss, barely able to kiss him back as your stomach tightened; his fingers working in and out of your cunt, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna cum f'me? Wanna soak my fucking hand, hmm? Fucking say it", he growled against your lips, leaning back just enough to wrap his free hand around your neck again. You gasped, barely able to obtain the whimpers that continued to leave your mouth, and you were already there—

"Wanna cum for you, want it s'bad", you choked out, meeting his demanding gaze with a hint of desperation in your own. You clenched down on his fingers, your walls throbbing as you wailed, back arching off the bed. "Shit, shit, shit! Please, let me cum, Nick—".

He smiled cruelly before pulling his fingers out of your tight cunt, your walls clamping down on them as if to prevent him from leaving. You cried out, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as your stomach tightened, hips rising off the mattress in search of his addicting touch again — but to no avail.

"Not quite good enough, baby", he snarled, pulling you up by your neck, positioning you so that you could sit upright, now facing him. Before you could say something, beg him to please let you cum this time, he tapped two of his soaked fingers against your lower lip. "Suck. Let's see if I trained you well".

Your jaw went slack, eyes clouded with lust, and you obeyed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth to eagerly lap at his digits, tasting yourself. Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your obedience, pushing his fingers into your mouth, the hand on your neck loosening just slightly. You hollowed your cheeks, running your tongue in between his fingers, bobbing your head the same you'd do if it was his cock in your mouth. Without a second thought and clearly growing impatient, he thrusted all the way in until you choked on his fingers, moaning like a bitch in heat, whimpering and trying your best to breathe through your nose. You looked up at Nicholas through your lashes and you met his gaze, dark and filled with longing so strong it made your heart race.

With a satisfied smile, he pulled out — a string of saliva connecting you to his fingers, and you smacked your lips together, already toying with the waistband of his pants, impatient.

"How'd I do?", you panted, slowly pulling the fabric down Nicholas' legs, along with his black boxers, not once looking away from his face. His thumb brushed against your cheek in an almost loving manner, a gentle, sweet smile adoring his lips. The fire in his gaze made your head spin, and you slowly positioned him to lay down on the bed — and he did, not before throwing his underwear on the floor carelessly.

"Fuckin' perfect. Come on, sit on my face, baby", he groaned, and you couldn't help but bite back a whimper, staring at him all doe-eyed, blinking slowly. You obeyed, crawling up his body until you straddled his hard chest, your pussy clenching and unclenching at the sight underneath you. When you moved higher, he stopped you with a quick flick of his hand. "Nuh-uh. Turn around, baby. You're gonna suck my cock like a fuckin' whore you are, right?".

And so you did, nodding obediently. You clumsily straddled Nicholas' face, falling forward as his tongue licked a stripe from the clit to your tight hole immediately. He didn't wait a second, grabbing your ass tightly to push you down onto his face as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he was starved and you were the only one that could satisfy his hunger. Your hips rocked down onto his face, your shaky hands already reaching out to wrap around his reddened cock, your mouth watering at the sight of it alone.

Nicholas groaned, hips bucking into your face as you hastily run your tongue against his tip, humming when the taste of his salty pre-cum flooded your senses. You took him into your mouth, not hesitating before working down his shaft, costing him in your saliva, your hand stroking the part of him you couldn't put in your mouth yet. Nicholas' needy whines and moans were muffled by your pussy as he squeezed your ass, lazily circling your clit with his tongue, manoeuvring between long, slow licks and quick, steady strokes. Your eyes watered, and it didn't take long to feel your stomach tighten. You abruptly pulled away from his cock, instead focusing on jerking him off the best you could while grinding down onto his face, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Oh my fucking— Nick, I'm so close, can I cum f'you, please? Been so good f'you", you choked out as you felt your thighs shake around Nicholas' head, your grip on his cock tightening just enough to make Nicholas groan into your cunt. The vibrations sent a shiver down your spine, and as much as you didn't want to suffocate him, you also couldn't stop the desperate bucking of your hips. Your breaths came out short and ragged, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his tongue teased your clenching, leaking hole, eagerly lapping everything you offered him.

Nicholas pulled back just enough to breathe for a second. One of his hands travelled up your ass, lingering on your back before tangling in your hair, roughly pushing your head down.

"If you wanna cum, you're gonna do it while I fuck your face— how's that sound? Hmm?", he mumbled, and you nodded, eager as ever, already lining his cock up to the level of your lips, your tongue lolling out of your mouth only to dip it into his sensitive slit. A shudder run down your spine when he moaned into you, the hand in your hair tightening just barely to assert his dominance over you. His hips began to buck into your awaiting mouth, and you hummed lowly, wrapping your lips against his thick head, swirling your tongue just the way you knew he liked it. The taste of him, combined with his lips now beginning to continue their assault on your puffy cunt, had you seeing stars in no time. Nicholas flicked his tongue over your little nub just the way he knew you liked it, and you couldn't help but rock your hips in the rhythm of his mouth moving on you. Tears bricked in the corners of your eyes as your throat contracted around his tip, your tongue constantly rubbing against the underside of his cock; his breathy groans from underneath you only spurred you on.

"Cum for me, baby", Nicholas whispered, holding you in place as he bucked into your mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head when you swallowed and choked on his impressive length resting in your throat as if it belonged here. His grip on you was tight, bruising, and if it wasn't for the fireworks erupting in your lower belly, you'd probably cry out in pain. Saliva and pre-cum dropped down your chin, but you couldn't care less, as your back arched, hips moving mindlessly against Nicholas' face as much as they could. Your little, pathetic moans and whimpers were muffled by his cock as you came, shaking in Nicholas' tight grip, your nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent marks in their wake.

It was earth-shattering, and for a moment you thought as if you might've passed out. Nicholas lapped everything you offered him eagerly, overstimulating your already spent pussy as he pressed soft kisses all over your mound. You pulled away from his cock, a string of saliva stretching between your lower lip and the reddened, leaking tip. As much as you wanted to make him cum, too, your whole body protested, and you fell back against the sheets limply. A broken sob escaped your mouth as you struggled to catch your breath, eyes and legs squeezed shut.

Nicholas wasn't having any of it, though. Before you knew it, he slipped in between your legs, his muscular body resting on top of you as if to prevent you from slipping away. One of his hands cradled your face, his thumb brushing against your burning skin in an almost soothing manner. You looked up at him through your lashes, meeting his dark gaze immediately. The intensity between you seemed to grow with each passing second, and you found yourself reaching for him, pulling him down just so that he could kiss you.

You tasted yourself on Nicholas' lips, whimpering into his mouth when his hardness brushed against your lower stomach, big and ever so needy. Your hands were in Nicholas' hair, pulling on the soft strands, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You had no idea how much you missed this, missed him, until he was so close to you again. Your back arched into his body as he moved to lift your thigh up his body, securing it on his waist, his tongue toying with yours in a way that had your head spin.

"Fucking look at you", he rasped lowly, gripping the base of his cock to rub himself up and down your wetness, coating himself in your sweet juices. You clenched around nothing, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the tension in your stomach building up the more time passed. "My needy, perfect girl. You're gonna fucking take it, yeah? I know you will".

You mindlessly nodded, and Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your fucked-up state — and he barely even started. Without a warning, he slipped into your wet, inviting hole, bottoming out almost instantly. He had no patience to take it slow anymore, consumed by the pure need running through his veins. Encouraged by the soft mewl that left your swollen lips, he began pounding into you, pressing one of your legs into the mattress to have you all spread out for him.

"Shit, Nic — God, you're so fucking big", you choked out, your nails digging into Nicholas' chest, leaving red marks in their wake. He met your gaze, sending you his typical, open-mouthed smirk that had your eyes rolling back.

Nicholas grabbed your jaw, forcing you to keep your gaze on him as he adjusted his position, just so that his lower abdomen brushed against your clit every time he bottomed out. Every now and then, he'd stop, grinding his hips against yours to let you feel all of him. You choked on your breath, unable to break the eye contact, your jaw slightly agape as his name left your mouth like a prayer. Your thighs shook where he had you pinned to the bed, your core clenching around him as if to prevent him from leaving. His cock dragged against your walls, and Nicholas made sure you could feel every vein, every throb, every delicious inch of it rearranging your insides. It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to tighten yet again. You sobbed, feeling the saltiness of your own tears lingering in the corner of your lips. Throwing your head back, your hips bucked up to meet Nicholas halfway; your wide, glossy eyes focused on his face — on the way his jaw dropped, brows furrowed, his dark gaze burning into yours with intensity that left you shaking.

"You look s'pretty, drunk on my fucking cock. You're perfect. My perfect girl", Nicholas cooed, groping your boob tightly, pounding into you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy.

And you loved every second of it.

Your bottom lip trembled as you bit on it, desperately trying to conceal the pathetic sounds that threatened to leave your throat with every brutal thrust. Nicholas pinched your nipple between his fingers, throwing his head back and groaning deeply. The sound alone made you gush around him, your orgasm beginning to overtake you, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to hold it even if he asked you to.

"Nick, I'm— Oh, fuck — I'm gonna cum, please, can I cum f'you?", you managed to choke out, pulling him closer, your hands clasping down on his broad shoulders for balance. Nicholas chuckled breathlessly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You felt him twitch against your walls, signalling that he was close as well, holding out just for you.

"Shit, baby, you're gonna make me cum already", he groaned, partially amazed, but not surprised. "You're gonna cum with me, baby— I'm gonna pump you full of my cum, yeah? Oh, you fucking love it", he laughed breathlessly, feeling you clench around him at the promise in his words. It was utterly possessive, the way his voice trembled, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared the all familiar edge. And you weren't far behind.

"You're mine. You're fucking mine, baby. I'm never letting you go", he muttered lowly before stilling inside you, making you groan in disappointment. "Turn around".

You obeyed, letting his cock plop out of your cunt for a spare second before you turned around on shaky legs. Nicholas' rough hand pressed on your lower back, arching you for him, your ass now on full display for his greedy eyes. Before you knew it, he was already back inside you, setting a rough, earth-shattering pace that had you clutching on the sheets. A strangled, broken sob left your mouth, and Nicholas moaned lowly, watching the way your backside snapped against his hips with each thrust. With one of his hands on your hip and the other tangled in your hair, Nicholas pulled you flush against him, your back meeting his hard chest. The sound of skin slapping, punctuated by your cries and Nicholas' low groans filled the room, so familiar; so addicting.

"Open your mouth f'me, baby, c'mon", he urged, and you obeyed, your head resting against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms securely around your waist, keeping you upright. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you stared up at him, wide eyed, mascara smudged over your flushed cheeks, neck covered with hickeys of his creation. With a throaty groan, he spat in your mouth, making sure your eyes stayed locked on his as he did. "Swallow".

So you did. Your legs trembled as you neared your peak again, your back arching off his chest just as one of his hands travelled down your body, squeezing your left buttock roughly. Nicholas' touch was so addicting; you nearly screamed in pleasure when he spanked you, once, twice, thrice. He made sure to claim you in every way possible, to make sure you'd never look in the direction of another man ever again.

Your orgasm hit you without a warning. You fell forward, burying your face in the sheets as you screamed, creaming all over Nicholas' cock, going limp in his grasp. He moaned shamelessly, watching the way your juices created a creamy ring around the base of his cock. The sight alone made his muscles clench, thrusts becoming sloppy as he gripped your hips, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! — Oh my God, yes", he whimpered lowly, bottoming out before letting go; spurts of his hot, sticky cum claiming your walls, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside you making you moan into the sheets. You grinded back the best you could, milking him of everything he had to offer, and God — even he could feel how much he filled you up.

Nicholas collapsed on top of you, and you welcomed the familiar weight of his body pressing against yours. You were shaking, your breaths coming out in short, uneven gasps, the sheets beneath you soaked with tears that couldn't seem to stop flowing. The weight of your actions rested on your shoulders as you became to come down from the high. You had hoped he wouldn't leave this time — the thought itself made your heart ache, your throat burning with the words you wished you had the courage to say to him.

"Shh. C'mere, baby", Nicholas' soothing voice reached your ear as he kissed the back of your neck softly, his breath tickling your skin. You winced when he slowly pulled out of your drenched hole, not giving you a second to think before he leaned against the headboard, pulling you to lay on his chest. You sniffled, pushing your face into his bicep, inhaling the familiar scent of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't know— I just hoped you'd notice me. It's so complicated, Y/N. I don't want to ruin everything we have".

The words made you sniffle into his skin, pulling him closer as if you didn't want him to leave — and, in fact, it was true. You bit your lip, thinking about everything you've been through together; the longing you felt for him almost making your heart burst.

"I love you, Nick. I love you so bad it hurts. It's okay if you want to leave, I broke a rule, and I didn't—"

"Stop, Y/N. Stop", he interrupted, cradling your cheek softly, tilting your head so that you could meet his gaze. Your lower lip trembled when Nicholas' thumb rubbed circles into your skin, somehow making your muscles relax against him. "I love you. You hear me? I. Love. You. I want to be with you. Wake up by your side every day, fall asleep with you in my arms. Fuck, I could never want anything more", he whispered, and your heart fluttered in your chest, your jaw dropping as you searched for any kind of hesitation on his face. You didn't find any.

You sniffled again, letting out a relieved sigh; the weight on your heart seemed to finally fall into the dark abyss, replaced with relief so strong it almost made you sob.

"Let me take care of you now", Nicholas whispered, giving you space to rest, let his previous words sink in, smiling down at you with the all familiar warmth — and it felt like home, for the first time in a long time. "Should we search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?".

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, kissing the side of his neck lovingly. Nicholas' hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as if you were meant to be.

And maybe you were.

Just two souls, so utterly different; but they wouldn't be able to function without each other.

❝ hoffmansgirl © 2025 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ❞

tags (click here to be added): @darlingnikkisixxxx @titsout4jackles @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @emluvsuxo @nicholaslut @greengoblinswifey @sin-deciric @onlyangelicc @urlitttlevenicebitch @violetidk @motherismotheringggg @c-cobweb @rosetintmworld @iamsebastiansstan @chr0nicradness

[like-a-gutted-fish]

i am a child.

i am forced into a dress. makeup is smeared onto my face. i kick and cry and beg, but they will not stop.

i am forced to pose in front of the camera with my thighs together and hope that the makeup hides my tearstains. i must be the perfect picture of femininity; innocent, untouched.

i already have a thousand hand prints on me.

'all men are evil rapists', i am told.

i think about my friends, who are men. the men who called me every day while i was in a psychiatric hospital. the men who walked me home when i was afraid. the men who protected and cared for me, without ever expecting my body in return.

it can't be the body that makes someone evil. it can't be the presence of a penis that makes someone evil. but it can't be the identity of 'man' that makes you evil, either.

i ponder the difference between the men who raped me and the men who protected me. i decide that it depends on who the person is inside, and not on their identity.

'sit down and shut up,' they spit at me. 'the men are talking. learn your place. don't speak over us.'

'you throw like a girl.'

'you run like a girl.'

'girls can't do this. they're not smart enough.'

'girls aren't strong enough to do this.'

over and over, such sentiments are tossed at me. i bite down my anger, because women aren't supposed to yell or get angry. if i get angry, that makes me a hysterical bitch.

'women are meant to be mothers,' i am told. they beat it into me that my worth lies not in my personhood, but in the womb between my hips. it makes me feel sick and violated, just like every sexual assault has.

i am groped. i am raped. i am assaulted.

it's my fault, i'm told. i'm a temptress. my body is a vile weapon, a weapon created to tempt men into sin, a weapon that makes me a subhuman toy.

i am treated like a toy. as i am molested during my childhood, i learn that i am a toy. the anatomy between my hips has marked me as public property. i am less than human.

they keep forcing me into dresses. they keep forcing me into makeup. no amount of protesting makes it end. i grow to loathe femininity and the violation that always seems to come with it.

i come out as a trans man at fifteen.

'can't you just be nonbinary?'

'can't you just be a tomboy?'

'i don't want you to regret this.'

'i don't want you to ruin your perfect body.'

'men are disgusting. why do you want to be one of them?'

'are you sure you don't just want to be a man because you were sexually assaulted?'

i continue to be a man. my parents intentionally delay my ability to go on testosterone. by the time i am able to go on testosterone, i have already finished puberty. my body is irreversibly feminine.

people throw food at me. they call me a faggot, a tranny, a dyke. they kick me and shove me to the ground. they cyberstalk me. they post pictures of me online so that they can mock me.

a girl says to me, 'you need to learn your place,' as she calls me a faggot over the internet. she kicks me when she sees me the next day.

my boyfriend when i am fifteen is a cis man who says he is pansexual. he dismisses me when i talk about being trans, because he uses he/they pronouns and 'understands it'.

he sexually assaults me repeatedly. i am in constant distress. my distress is used as proof that i am a snowflake hysterical tranny. i am a hysterical woman who only THINKS she's a man, and i need to be put in my place. trans 'men' are all hysterical and overreactive, and my behaviour is used as proof.

my boyfriend exclusively refers to me with they/them pronouns. i tell him to use he/him. he waves his hand, dismissing my words, and says, 'they're basically the same thing'.

he tells me that he wants children. i try to ignore the sick feeling in my gut.

he only uses he/him pronouns for me after we have broken up, when he is trying to paint me as abusive. i lose my entire friend group because of it.

people keep talking down to me. when i go on testosterone, cis men try to explain that it's toxic for me, using cis man bodybuilders as an example. i try to explain how that isn't the case. they insist that 'female bodies aren't built to handle testosterone'. i try to explain to them how hormones work, and they laugh and roll their eyes.

silly girl. stupid girl. she doesn't know what she's talking about.

people continue to make fun of trans men online. our music, our art, our interests, our fashion sense, our names. i cannot help but feel dejected. all i want is to be a man, and to fit in among everyone else, but even in doing so, i stand out as a target for mockery. misogyny is inescapable, even for men.

i am seventeen years old. my worst fear comes true. i am raped and forcibly impregnated, with the intention of forcing me to detransition.

that sense of violation is impossible to truly describe.

my reproductive system was designed to become pregnant. my body will do its best to become pregnant, no matter what i want. pregnancy is an inescapable function of my body, and it makes me feel trapped and sick.

the man who raped me has turned my own body into a weapon against me. even in my body, my own flesh and sinew, i am not safe.

i miscarry. i am in agony. my womb cramps and i try not to pass out.

i enter feminist spaces. i try to talk about my experiences with misogyny.

'sit down and shut up,' they spit at me. 'the women are talking. learn your place. don't speak over us.'

all trans men have male privilege, you see, without exception. by the mere act of wanting to become a man, i have become a traitor, and i am thrown to the cis men.

the cis men, who see me as a woman that they're finally allowed to abuse. finally, they can hurt and rape and impregnate a woman, because she's one of those snowflake trannies and she needs to be put in her place.

i bite down my anger, because trans men aren't supposed to yell or get angry. if i get angry, it's proof that i'm not a man, that i'm a hysterical bitch, and that i'm a dangerous snowflake tranny seeking to mutilate children.

the sentiment is bitterly familiar.

[laterreurofficial]

does…. does Gabriel hold some sort of sway over the Dolls Magazine? Or like, own it? Originally, I thought some of the more grim stuff on the covers were just normal satire of early 2000's dieting and misogyny culture but with Estelle's cover having things like 'don't hide from Akuma attacks', Lila getting an exclusive, and Alya as 'the Lady blogger' being shown in not her best light I'm starting to think that Gabriel is purposely running some kind of psyop on the youth of Paris to deliberately make them more vulnerable both mentally and physically to akuma's. you're less likely to have the higher functions to think about resisting an akuma if your brain doesn't have the calories, I suppose. and like, Adrien's on every cover, which I first shrugged off as just him being famous but with how it's in the same spot each time I'm now starting to suspect that's intentional.

Also! I absolutely love everything about this AU! y'all have created something really amazing, everything from the writing to the art to the character studies are just perfect!

Lastly, I adore how the magazine is called Dolls. Idk if that's a real magazine brand you're satirizing or not, but it feels very apt considering the Senti-kids are essentially treated as just dolls for their creators/parents.

You got it! He's a shareholder and creative consultant for DOLLS, courtesy of his """good friend""" Mr. Caquet. Gabriel has amassed a looot of "good friends" who owe him one in some way or another.

The name DOLLS is based on the Australian teen mag DOLLY. Take a look at some of the older covers the tone is so flippant I love it.

It's really convenient for Hawkmoth when news outlets act ambivalent about holders or state conflicting guidelines on what to do during akuma "events" (you have to say "event" and not "attack"), because then it sows mistrust, and when people are confused they get scared and start to make bad decisions!

Then they get hurt more often, one thing leads to another and next thing you know it's been almost a year in the exclusion zone and the country is in shambles.

Sure, Ladybug and Co. always beat the akuma, but at the end of the day they're still stuck within arm's reach in a city Hawkmoth has full control over. Eventually they'll get tired or lose their homes or just... die.

He's patient. He'll wait.

[lovecla]

MAKE IT TO THE MORNING ; JACK HUGHES

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader

SUMMARY being jack hughes’ girlfriend comes with a lot of hardships— but in the mornings, you realize it is all worth it.

WARNINGS unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), rough sex, p slapping, cockwarming, dirty talk, jack is lowkey a little shit, reader loves him tho, inspired by the song “make it to the morning” by partynextdoor. freaky af!!!

WORD COUNT 2,3k

FROM ME TO YOU a little late (literally, it’s like 3am for me), but this is my thank you gift for you guys because today i woke up with 700 of you!! i’m still too in shock to say anything besides thank you so much. i was celebrating 600 followers like a month ago and now this. i’ll keep working hard to give you guys good content <3 ily and pls enjoy

𖧷

don't scream or shout, i'm workin' my way down

girl, you gettin' loud, now put it in yo' mouth

THE SOUND of your heels clicking against the marble floor were enough to piss anyone off. It was annoying, repetitive and even you were starting to get tired of the little tec tec sound, but you couldn’t stop.

Dating Jack Rowden Hughes was not for the weak. And you knew that, more than anyone else. Being his girlfriend of three years— the longest time he has ever been in a relationship, mind you—, you knew that the prize was good, but the job of keeping it was tiring.

You stared at him across the room, talking to some random fans who definitely didn’t know what being a fan was, since they were all over him, with their hands on his arms and shoulders.

He eyed you from time to time, blue eyes making it hard for you to stay one hundred percent mad at him— truthfully, you knew that all it would take for you to forgive him for his playboy behaviour would be a single kiss and an aggressive make out session.

“It isn’t so fun watching from here, huh?” Quinn’s new fling, or whatever the girl standing beside you was, said, approaching you quietly. “Trust me, I know how it feels.”

You hummed, not engaging with her. You knew Jack wouldn’t actually do anything, but still, it didn’t feel nice to get painted as the dumb girlfriend who has to watch her famous boyfriend laugh and take pictures with hundreds of girls while she stands in the back.

“I’m lucky my Quinn isn’t as nearly as talkative as he is,” she continues, despite your silence. “But you know, Jack is everyone’s favorite.”

You turned your head to the side, watching the girl next to you eye Jack the same way she eyed Quinn, hungry and suggestive, and that was enough for you.

“Sorry,” you interrupted, putting your wine glass down— it had been empty for at least ten minutes— and smiling apologetically. “I have a terrible headache, so I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” she pouts, and you can feel your eyes twitch. “It is pretty late too, so you must be tired.”

“Mhm.” You nod, looking at your phone. 3:46a.m.

“Do you want me to call Jacky?” She asks, expectantly, and the way she says his name makes you want to smash her face against the crumbles of cake sitting on the buffet table.

“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” you play dumb. “It was nice seeing you…”

You forgot her name. It was probably something like Olivia or Madeline, but still. You didn’t remember.

“It was nice seeing you, too!” She says, apparently clueless to your lack of memory— and interest. “I’ll text you later so we can talk more.”

“Sure thing, yeah.” You walk towards Jack with long, careful steps. “Hey, babe.”

His eyes are on you immediately, his hair moving around with his abrupt move. He smiles, stepping out of the little circle the girls had made around him to wrap his arms around you.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” he says. “Hi, baby.”

You can feel the girls’ eyes on you, burning your skin like the fictional fairies’ whenever they touch iron. It is a feeling you are used to already, but you feel yourself shivering either way.

“Can we go?” You ask, bluntly ignoring the other women there. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, we can,” he nods, turning his head back to his little girl group before smiling at them. “See ya, ladies.”

See ya, ladies?

“Bye, Jack.”

“You’re the best!”

“See ya next time!”

You can’t hide your pout on your way home— you don’t even try to. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest as you sit in the front seat of Jack’s absurdly expensive car, listening to the quiet hum of his air conditioner and the annoying noise whenever he turns on the turn signal.

“You’re not mad… are you?”

His voice is tentative, almost as if he’s scared of asking the question.

“Are you kidding me? You spent half of that ridiculous party talking to women. Tell me I can’t be mad about that.” You hiss back, not looking at him. You know there are high chances of you folding bad if you do.

“Baby, I already told you, it’s all business,” he says, once again, because he has, indeed, told you that several times before. “I can’t have them saying I’m a rude guy, can I?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe the shit you say,” you scoff. “You literally told a reporter to fuck himself last week, on live. Talk about being a nice guy now, Jack.”

“Come on, you’re not being fair!” He exclaims, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “He talked shit about you. He was lucky I didn’t punch him in the face.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lips to hide your smile.

Little does Jack know you jumped out of the couch when you saw the transmission and giggled while you sent texts to your best friend about how you would have to be the mother of his children.

You stayed silent, looking at the dark streets, briefly forgetting about your anger to notice how beautiful your city is. There weren't many people in the streets at that hour— it was summer, yes, but it was almost four a.m and it was still Monday, and a lot of people were still working.

When you got to your and Jack’s apartment— a two bedroom penthouse with plenty of space and a kitchen you still fell in love with every time you looked at it— you didn’t waste time before heading to the guest bathroom shower, a clear sign that you didn’t want Jack to join you, which you knew pissed him off.

You were quick even though you weren’t sleepy, washing the soap off your body under the lukewarm water; happy because it was your favorite scent.

You got out of the stall, opening the bathroom door after you wrapped the towel around your body, deciding to change inside your bedroom.

Or at least that’s what you thought you would do.

“Y/n.” Jack calls you, sitting on top of the bed.

“Fuck, Jack,” you grunt. “You scared me.”

“I can’t have you mad at me, baby,” he says, getting up and walking towards you, only stopping when your covered chest is touching his. “You know those women mean nothing.”

“Jack,” you sigh. “We’ve been here before. You can’t just say that every time you flirt with other women.”

“I wasn’t—” he starts, but interrupts himself mid sentence. “You’re making shit up.”

“Am I?” You ask, holding the towel tighter. “You damn well I’m not.”

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not proud with the way I acted but I already told you—”

“It’s all business. I know, you know, we all know.” You roll your eyes, stepping back and moving forward so you can leave the room. His hand finds your waist almost immediately, locking you in place. “Jack—”

“You’re so full of complaints, baby,” he whispers. “Every time we go out you complain about something.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t give me reasons to.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers over your naked arms. You shiver slightly, hoping he doesn’t see it. “You want more?”

“More what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“More reasons to complain,” he continues, chuckling as he lowers his head and hides it in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Real reasons to complain.”

“Wha—”

“Because I’ll give them to you, if you want to,” he licks your skin, and you can feel yourself start to malfunction. He’s a little shit, you think, as you slowly start to give in. He’s a little shit and I’m in love with him. “Or I can keep your mouth full so you can’t complain anymore.”

He stands up straight again, staring at you while his fingers move to where you were holding your towel.

“What’s your pick, baby?” He whispers, removing your grip from the soft fabric around your body, letting it fall on the floor, like a puddle of water on your feet.

You’re fully naked, and he can’t even pretend he’s not looking— he is. He always is.

Jack kisses you with hungry, tender lips. He holds your neck while he licks your lips with his tongue, hot and messy. He tastes like beer and you hate it, but you cannot get enough.

You wrap your own arms around his neck, holding him so close to you you could feel his heartbeat. Kissing him never got old, and if you were to write down your top ten favorite things about Jack Hughes, his kiss would definitely be number one.

You breathe in his scent, your favorite ever since you met him, and you can feel your legs start to give in, just like the rest of your body. It’s late at night, almost morning, your body can’t keep up with your mind and you want to tell Jack to fuck off.

Yet.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides you to the bed, laying you down with your hips on the edge of it. “Let me give you something to make noise about.”

That’s the only warning you get before he gets his knees on the floor and separates your legs, leaving you open and exposed. You feel his fingers spreading your lips open, and when his tongue finds its way to your clit, all of your previous complaints are gone.

You close your legs around his neck, holding him in place, while he puts on a show for you, his fingers tracing the wetness pouring out of you.

You let out a soft moan, holding his hair with your hands, not bothering to be gentle. His tongue found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, circular motions.

“Jack.”

You trash under him as he flicked your sensitive nub with his mouth, the wet noises making you want to disappear. Jack always seemed pleased to go down on you, but you still aren’t used to this fact about him.

“So sweet, baby,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his words sending shivers down your spine, as he dives in again.

He has you curling your toes and arching your back, moaning his name loud and proud, but still, he doesn’t stop. He slides his arms under your thighs, holding you in place by gripping your waist, hard.

He has you coming in under five minutes— it’s a shame it’s over so soon, but what can you do, really. He looks up at you between your thighs, and the sight alone has you moaning, desperate for something else.

You pull his hair, gently, signaling to him that you wanted him up, closer to you, and so he does. He kisses you again, and you get to taste yourself on his lips, moaning loudly inside his mouth when you feel his dick trapped between his body and yours.

“Jack,” you whisper again, placing both of your hands on his cheeks. “I need you.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He says, chuckling as he gets off you and removes the rest of his clothes.

He slides inside you with no hesitation or whatsoever, knowing too well that your inside’s have his print all over it. You both moan loudly, louder than you should be moaning at four something in the morning, but you can deal with the complaint letter later.

He holds your legs together, pressing them against your chest, almost folding you in half. He is being rough, something you absolutely want to kill him for, but you let yourself enjoy the roughness for a moment; you can scold him later.

You can feel him deeper now, as your body gets dragged up and down against the mattress, making you want to scream.

“You’re wet,” he says through his teeth and you can tell he’s also giving in. “Y/n, fuck.”

You’re clenching around his length as he strokes your G spot, dragging his dick against your walls, once again making sure you can take everything he gives you.

“Harder.” You hear someone ask, probably yourself, and you also hear his low chuckle. “Not enough.”

“Still complaining?” He asks, but doesn’t give you time to answer. Instead, he removes his right hand from your waist and does the one thing he knows it will have you drooling and begging under him.

He slaps your pussy. The wet, loud sound that fills the room makes you squirm, unconsciously trying to remove yourself from his hold. But he’s stronger, always has been.

“Take it, baby.”

He then slaps you again, and again, and so many times you stop counting. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, and his rough slaps against your clit is enough to make you come, leaving you almost lifeless under him.

“Good girl, Y/n,” he says, kissing your lips, briefly. “I’m gonna come, fuck.”

“Inside, please,” you hear yourself mumbling, and you’re not even sure if Jack hears it.

“What was that, baby?” He asks, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Inside?”

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m—”

He cums inside you, the familiar feeling making you sigh with bliss. You are both panting, the room smells of sweat, alcohol and sex, and you swear you can see the sun start to rise through the bedroom’s floor to ceiling windows.

You’re just about to tell Jack you want to go to sleep when you feel him start to pull out, which has you protesting, immediately.

“No, I— sleep inside, please?”

His blue eyes are staring down at you, and now, there’s a hint of a smile plastered on his face. He nods once, manhandling you around until you’re under the sheets, with your back glued to his chest, and his length still nestled inside you.

“Well, if you’re still mad at me,” he whispers. “At least we made it to the morning, huh?”

“Shut up,” you whisper back, barely hiding your smile. “If you keep talking, there won’t be any other morning.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head. “Very well, then.”

𖧷

NHL MASTERLIST. JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST

[justasimpleton-26]

Hmmm, I'd like to try my hand at this!

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot. Jason thinks to himself. At least he thinks he does, because Dick pinches his arm and shakes his head.

Jason makes sure not to stare too long at Dick because then the toxin he accidentally inhaled will make Dick look like a melted-face puddle and Jason is pretty sure it's bad enough he has to deal with the giggling maniacs of the Joker.

The Joker, who stands in that corner, and watches Jason like a hawk.

Jason wants to leave. Twice or three times he's tried to escape the Batcave, but either Damian finds him (the scared 14 year old who tries to play it off), Tim does (the 19 year old who's jittery from nerves or coffee), or Dick does, the ever patient 25 year old who seems to be the only one that can touch Jason, without Jason screaming in hysterics.

"How much longer?" Damian asks. Or maybe it's Bruce.

Jason can't focus on one of them too long without their faces turning into twisted, Joker versions of themselves.

"Wow, little bird. They seem to really care for you...now." Joker says, as he taps the back of Jason’s head with...not a crowbar, it's too soft. Maybe his cane. "But I didn't see them when I invited you over to play."

"Stop...just...stop." Jason says, his voice hoarse. Was he screaming? When was he screaming?

Jason sits on the couch, curled up into himself. He doesn't care if he looks ridiculous, whatever it takes to not have the Joker focused on him, Jason will do it.

"Now, boy wonder...wanna hear a joke?" Joker asks, his voice right next to Jason’s ear.

"Lay it on me." Jason replies, weary. He doesn't understand how though the Lazarus pit healed him...he can still feel the pain on his body.

"Lay what on you?" Bruce asks, his voice even.

"That was rude, Bats. Birdie, tell the Bat to be nice or you'll be the one filled with strife." Joker said, tapping Jason’s shoulder. This time, it was the crowbar.

Jason, with tired reluctance, relays the demand.

Jason doesn't bother to look up if Bruce listened or not. His gaze sticks to the floor, that was supposed to be cement but for some reason is nothing but wriggling maggots.

"Like a coffin." Jason whispered to himself, and that makes Joker laugh.

"Hey birdie, you ever seen the living Deadman? No? You should, you own a mirror!" Joker laughed maniacally, Jason letting out a weak chuckle.

Okay, that one was pretty funny.

"What was the joke?" Dick asked, and Jason spares a glance at his older brother. Dick's face remains the same for a bit and Jason takes in a shaky breath.

"Tell them the joke, Jason. I'm sure they're DYING for a laugh as well." Joker orders, and Jason forces his gaze up, looking over at all of them with a forced calm.

"Joker asked me if I've seen the living Deadman. When I said no, he replied with I should have, I own a mirror." And Jason laughs, laughs so hard, it hurts his stomach and he's near tears.

"That's dark, Jay." Tim says, and Jason wipes his eyes.

"Oh, Timbers. I gotta laugh at his jokes. Or else he'll throw a tantrum and that crowbar will be wedged between my skull." Jason explains, Joker slapping Jay on the back.

"Just trying to turn you into the headless horseman." And again Joker laughs, and again Jason laughs, holding on to his stomach as a pain makes him gasp for air.

Someone steadies him, Jason trying to pull free. But goddamn, if his stomach doesn't hurt like a bitch.

"Get the bucket! Get it now!" Someone shouts, shoving a metal gray bucket under Jason’s face.

Jason vomits his lungs out, the acrid taste in the back of his throat forcing him to spew out even more. He's broken out in a sweat, staring at the Joker who's laughing at Jason’s pain, all the time, EVERY TIME.

When he's done, he feels lightheaded and so tired, leaning back on the couch. A cold rag covered his forehead and eyes, his breathing shallow and fast.

There's a prick on his arm and he passes out.

There's a pounding in the back of his eyes when he wakes up. Jason is back in his room and his body feels so heavy.

"Holy...crap." Jason says, trying to sit up.

"Take it easy, son." Bruce says, Jason moving his head to stare at him.

Bruce looks tired...haggard. And it looks like he's been sitting on that chair all night.

"Dad?" Jason croaks out, his mouth dry and his tongue heavy.

"I'm here Jason. I'm here." Bruce replied, patting Jason on the knee.

As Bruce comes into focus, others move. Dick stands next to Bruce, followed by Tim then Damian.

Damian actually looks like he's been crying. This alarms Jason. Very rare has he seen the teen cry.

"Who died?" Jason asks, and Damian shakes his head, Dick putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

"No one. No one at all." Dick assures.

Jason’s not sure why they're being affectionate or what happened yesterday.

But he decides to accept it.

Nothing wrong with a bit of affection from them.

I awfully need a fic, where Jason gets drugged by a big dose of fear toxin and starts seeing Joker's hallucination around — kind of like Bruce in Arkham Knight game, you know — and everyone is just... confused what to do with all of it?

They can't really produce antidote because it would fuck up his mind more, so he is stuck in the cave for the next 24 hours, and no one is leaving, because they can't allow Jason to go through this alone. Again.

Jason tries to put a brave face of course (god, he is THE Red Hood, one of the most influential people in the Gotham, he can't be afraid of a stupid clown–) but the more hours pass, the less he can control his fear or anxiety. Instead of pacing around like a ghost — he did that in the first four hours — he sits down on the couch, hugs himself, and starts answering to Joker?

Yeah, he knows he is not real. He understands that feeding hallucination with conversations will not help — and Dick, the ultimate expert in handling hallucinations, really, gave him some tips on what to do — but he can't just ignore it now.

He is too scared.

He remembers what comes if he flips off Joker or stops playing by his rules, alright?

"Knock, knock!"

Joker's face is as pale and terrifying as Jason remembers it to be. And maybe it is hallucination, but he still can feel his panted, hot breath on his ear.

He is alone, of course. Or not entirely alone, but others would notice if Joker was really here, right?

"Who is this?" He whispers, sensing his family tensing a little, not being sure what to expect.

Jason either argues with his hallucination or asks to stop. Or maybe just wordlessly scraps on his temples or cheek, in the place the J scar used to be, before the Lazarus Pit erased it from his body completely, leaving no traces.

"The stray dog that can't bark! Do you know why it can not bark, Jayjay?"

"I don't fucking know," he murmurs, but the fiericness with which he screamed at this man for hours now is gone; he sounds tired even to his own ears, and it is embarrassing. "Tell me."

"Because I broke its bones with a crowbar, silly!~" Joker shakes his shoulders, and Jason can practically feel the familiar ache of shattered bones. "It– Ahahah, it is too hurt to bark! It can only whine!"

Jason laughs.

His facial expression doesn't really change — he is still frowning a little — but he laughs with a painful wheeze. Joker is pleased enough to sigh dreamily in his ear.

Good job, Jason.

"What so funny?" Dick asks carefully, a patient smile on his face — he has been trying to distract him with conversations the most; Bruce prefers to keep his silence, and Tim thinks accidental physical touches help more than talking.

"He just said a joke," Jason shrugs weakily.

"Tell it to them," Joker orders. "Let us all laugh."

He doesn't really want to. But he can't disobey. He can't allow himself to die again, and–

"Knock, knock," he clears up his throat.

"Who is this?" Tim echoes, turning his chair to him, smart eyes scanning him up and down.

"The stray dog that can't bark," Jason tugs the tips of his own hair. "Do you know why it can not bark?"

Bruce tenses in his chair. He tenses in a way, Jason thinks, he already knows this joke; he has already heard it before. He almost looks as if he wants to stop him, cut mid-sentence.

But for some reason, he doesn't.

"Uh, why?" Dick tilts his head.

"Because my– its bones are broken," Jason stutters. "You know, dogs can't really bark when they are hurt? Just whine."

He can't bring himself to laugh again, even though Joker keeps giggling over and over.

"That's not funny, Jay," Tim murmurs.

"Yeah. I guess it isn't. But if I don't laugh, he'll get the crowbar again, and I really, really want to keep barking," Jason smiles.

He tries to ignore pitful glances of his family members, and the torture continues. No one breaks his bones this time, but Jason still whines when Bruce hugs him by the end of the night, pressing to his chest.

Joker is not here anymore, but Jason still can hear his taunting whisper, somewhere in the back of his head.

You will die his son.

[14dayswithyou]

Ren' favorite colour is pink! 😋

Hey I asked about Teo's fingernails (LOL), but now I'm curious about his self-care routine (like facial care, hair, body, all'at) as well as every character in the game. Which one of them uses the 13 in one body wash?

⌞♥⌝ I don't know why I initially read this as "self-care and shower routine", so you get the best of both worlds now jgsdhjgjh

Ren: I answered this a long time ago, but Ren genuinely has no self-care routine. He's (fortunately) blessed with having flawless skin, so all Ren needs to do every night is wash his face before going to sleep. He'll use the same hair products as Angel (if applicable) to feel closer to them. Ren is also the kind of person who shampoos and conditions twice before they start to feel clean.

Moth: Has a few limited edition AoG-themed skincare products (that are probably expired by now T_T), but otherwise, they don't have much of a self-care routine. That usually comes in the form of reading webtoons until the sun comes up and wearing a ridiculously expensive silk bonnet with Haruko's face on it.

Violet: She has a dedicated routine of watering all of her plants, indulging in a nice, relaxing bubble bath, applying hair care products, applying all her skin care products, and finally, drinking an entire glass of water before settling in for the night. If Violet ever skips a step, she'll feel like she's been thrown out of the loop.

Elanor: They're somewhat similar to Violet, though she prefers to use a specific lotion that helps prevent eczema, and often likes to use toner water and lash serums after washing her face. Showering often becomes tedious for Elanor since one of her cats is adamant about standing in the shower with her.

Conan: Usually shaves and grooms himself every few so often. Otherwise, there isn't much self-care going on in the O'Rourke household ^^; Out of the entire cast, Conan is probably the only one who owns and uses a loofah.

Jae: He found out about three-in-one body wash one day, and his life — and wallet — has never been the same since. Jae also uses a specific shampoo to help hydrate and strengthen his hair (which is very much needed after spending long hours at the beach), and often likes to do his dental routine with Maple.

Leon: Leon has to shower at least once a day, otherwise he doesn't feel clean. He also doesn't have much of a self-care routine outside of wiping down his entire body to make sure there are no traces of sand anywhere and using roll-on deodorant afterwards.

Teo: You just knooow he owns all the latest luxury items and uses nothing but the best for his skin and body. Teo uses face masks, jade face rollers, high-end body scrubs and skincare products, and refuses to sleep on anything that isn't made from silk. Probably smells like coconut after his showers.

Olivia: Her form of self-care consists of spending an ungodly amount of time waxing her entire body, having a one-hour Everything Shower, putting on her favourite PJs, and winding down with ice cream and a good TV show. If Teo responds to her texts, at least she's prepared.

Kiara: She's a mixture between Violet and Olivia. Kiara only washes her hair every other day and likes to use moisturiser and toner after her showers. She also uses other things like facial oils and serums, as well as pore strips and lash serums.

[maxisodenoth]

Oops, forgot to block.

But anyways, it seems like you don't understand.

Let me put it like this for you.

You have been provided links with proof [that I'm sure you didn't even touch.] And instead of bringing up any point related to them you stick to your same arguments.

I asked you a simple yes or no question, and you seem to have taken it personally. It doesn't matter to me what you think the answer is, because the answer is always no. An infertile woman is just as much of a woman as any other. We are what we want to be. Your words mean nothing to me, and other peoples identity. [which let me remind you *again* that you've been provided links in the comments which explain this stuff better than I ever could]

[And let me tell you something. Just because we can't have kids right now doesn't mean it'll remain that way in the future. I believe that something will be figured out later in the future that will allow trans-people to be able to reproduce with their new reproductive apparatuses. Whether that takes years or decades doesn't matter. It'll happen.]

You used word meanings as "arguments". May I remind you that, words were created far before any research was done on this matter? [Not exaclty sure when or how much words change but I'm almost sure it's a pretty slow process, so they might be a bit or alot outdated. Not sure though.] And that maybe instead of etymology, you should be looking at psychology, and biology? [Links in the comments~] Trying to use words meanings as arguments doesn't really work out that well when we're not talking about words but people.

[And by the way. Where is your evidence? You've been provided links explaining this stuff, yet when pressed, you only choose to go to ... a dictionary? Really?]

[Also, since you've stooped into insults let me get in on that action.]

Why do you care so much? Like really. Why does this matter that much to you? Are you that miserable that the only joy you get is by hating on other people being themselves and happy?

Look, I know it's hard to find a purpose in life, or a job, but it'd be alot easier if you stopped being a prick and just let people be themselves. There's no reason to hate people who literally don't affect you in any shape or form. They're just being themselves. Cope. [Your final reminder that there are links in the comments!~]

Or do you just refuse to grow up and understand that it doesn't matter what you say. People will be themselves and happier than you will ever be?

I am not a debator. I'm just some angry penguin on the internet. I have left my piece here. And I won't forget to block this time. May this be the last time I see your miserable blog on my feed.

And for everyone else who comes across this post, trans or otherwise. Your identity is Valid. You know yourselves better than some stranger on the internet. Or anyone who's not you. Because it's Your Identity. Not these peoples.

Do not let the hateful words of bigots make you feel bad about youself. You are the only one who can choose your identity. Not some idiots on the internet. You. And let me say this again Your identity is always valid. No matter what others say. ❤️

Goodbye. 👋

[Even if you reply to this, I'm not wasting anymore of my time on you John. You've been given links, read them. The same goes for any asshole who wants to start another argument. I do not care for you. Find someone else to deal with your bullshit.]

Facts matter. #VoteBlue

[princessfoxington]

Spoilers for Poppy Playtime Chapter 4!

Do not click read more if you haven't seen or played Chapter 4 yet!

Me and my sister watched 8-bit Ryan play chapter 4, and here's what we got from it!

This game is getting darker and more morbid with each chapter being released! I mean, look at the body count we've got in this chapter!!!!

Both Pianosaurous and Yarnaby were robbed of potential. They trolled us with Pianosaurous's introduction in which he's killed by Doey 5 seconds after we get to see him! and Yarnaby was promoted the most for this chapter, but he didn't get much screen time or have any important role!

Harley Sawyer A.K.A The Doctor is a spectacular villain, and (honestly kinda hot) WHAT? NOTHING! SHUT UP!

I lost my shit when I found out Doey the Doughman is voiced by non other than Michael Kovach! Who also voices: Jax from TADC, Rocky Rickaby from Lackadaisy, Angel Dust from The Hazbin Hotel Pilot, N from Murder Drones, and The Puppet guy from Billie Bust Up. ( I know the puppets name, I just don't know how to spell it and I'm too lazy to search up.)

I hate the fact that The crew behind Poppy Playtime keeps introducing us to lovable characters and then killing them off minutes later!!!! I'M NOT OVER DOGDAY AND I WILL NEVER BE OVER DOEY!!!! 😢

I realize The Player has quite a body count if you think about it: Mommy Long-Legs, Miss Delight, Catnap, Harley Sawyer, and Doey The Doughman! ( I don't really think Yarnaby counts)

I feel like when we finally meet The Prototype, not only will he be terrifying as fuck, but he might pull this "You're just as awful as I am, so you might as well join me" thing on us.

I think we all knew Ollie was The Prototype in disguise. However, The Prototype did mention that there used to be an Ollie. Either he killed Ollie years ago, Or he meant is as a way of saying the boy he was before is gone. Maybe he used to be Ollie, or maybe I'm crazy!

My sweet Kissy Missy! 💗 I'm so glad she's alive, but I wouldn't be surprised if she ends up sacrificing herself for us in the next chapter. After all, she's pretty much the only one we have left to trust.

I feel bad for Poppy, but I also think she's a bit selfish and not empathetic as she was planning on sacrificing innocent loves (and even herself) just to kill the prototype! She's scared, I know that, but she didn't seem to care about The Player, Kissy, Doey, or anyone in safe haven.

Doey's monster form is sad to look at knowing that he is not one entity of a child, but three: Mathew, Kevin, and Jack. We know how Jack became part of Doey, but I'm not sure how the other two children were added into him.

WE ALL KNEW!!!! WE ALL FUCKING KNEW THAT HUGGY WUGGY WAS ALIVE!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAH-

He looks like he has the same injuries as Kissy. He even lost an arm or maybe just a hand. I almost had a thought that maybe He and Kissy or the same, but than I realized how stupid that is! I tend to overthink details when I'm excited!!!!

One more thing, poor Riley.....😭

Well, now we've got to wait another year for the next chapter of Poppy Playtime. Do you think next chapter will be the last?

[erysser]

Can i request thanos x reader where the reader sacrifice herself for thanos in the bathroom scene

A GUT FEELING

-> pairings : Choi Su Bong [Thanos] x reader

-> a/n : Thank you so much for requesting!! This is my first time writing and I hope you enjoy anon <3

The third vote had just ended with a tie. Your eyes stare at the scoreboard, unsure of what it would display tomorrow when the voting was redone. Truly, you wanted to vote for X, you had a life out there, but with Thanos' pleading eyes as he promised you one more game... how could you say no?

Besides you, Thanos and Nam-gyu were whispering amongst themselves about something together, their eyes glaring at Min-su who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the X team. Pity engulfs you as you see the boy's nervous expression. You didn't blame him for voting X.

The guards call out to the players like clock-work, instructing people who wanted to go to the bathroom to go now. You lean back on your bed, back against the wall, the feeling of wanting to relieve yourself not making itself present yet.

Thanos climbs up into your bed beside you, a wild grin on his face as he talks, "Hey senorita, me and Nam-gyu are going to the toilet to have a small chat with Min-su."

You furrow your eyebrows at him, shaking your head lightly at his plan.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you start, your voice soft and persuasive, "a fight could break out and..."

Thanos laughs at your hanging sentence, "Don't worry about me, flower! I'm Thanos, I can deal with whatever they throw at me! You probably have to worry about Nam-gyu over there though."

His voice was dripping with boisterous confidence as he reassured you, Nam-gyu rolling his eyes at his statement before hurrying the purple-haired man up.

Your chest constricted, something felt wrong about this and as Thanos moved away from you, your hand caught hold of his wrist. He stops his movement, his gaze meeting your eyes. His eyes were full of unfiltered confidence, like there was no fear behind them. He never seem to have fear in him. After and during every single game, he smiled and joked like his life was not on the line.

"Be careful," you whisper softly to him, turning to Nam-gyu and repeating the same words as you pulled your hand off.

Nam-gyu scoffs as he hears the words, but gives an irritated nod as he moves to walk away towards the door. Thanos looks at you and winks, giving you a thumbs up and a flying kiss as he and Nam-gyu excitedly walk off to the bathroom area.

☆

You weren't sure how long it had been. 5— No— 10 minutes, maybe since Thanos and Nam-gyu had left for the bathroom. A sinking feeling was slowly taking over you as your mind lingered on it longer; why were they taking so long?

With a huff, you stood up from your bed, moving towards the door where the guards were, announcing to them that you needed to relieve yourself. Thankfully, as the allocated time wasn't up, they let you through.

Your footsteps echo throughout the long winding hallway until they finally stood in front of the two doors leading to the male and female toilet. Your heart beat quickens, hearing the shouting and arguing from within the male bathroom. Eyes widening, you quickly realise what was happening inside.

You look at the guards who stood outside. They stood as still as a statue, their heads looking in-front, as no emotion or feeling exuded from their faceless bodies as they stood guard.

"Aren't you going to do anything?!" You shout at them, your face scrunching up as confusion and frustration laces your voice.

You knew they wanted you dead. You knew they didn't care about the people who died, but you thought they would at least have the decency to let the players die in the games and not in a dingy bathroom!

You groan as no response came out of the triangle-masked guards. You didn't care. You stomped towards the door as they make no moves to stop you.

You heaved slightly as you move to push the door open, chest tightening as you see the scene unfold in front of you.

Men stood, fighting with each other. Some of them were on the floor, rolling around in who knows who's blood. Disgust fills you as today's dinner threatens to come up. What the hell was happening here? Your eyes scan the room, searching for the man with the bright purple hair in the middle of this brawl.

It didn't take you long to spot him. He sat on top of player 333, hand around his neck as he moves to choke him. You stood frozen, staring as you watch. Your eyes drink the image up. He didn't notice you, his whole focus on eliminating player 333. He didn't notice player 333's right arm moving and raising to stab him with the fork they had give you all for dinner.

Before your mind could even process what was happening, you move towards them, pulling Thanos off with a clean tug as player 333 swung his fork into air, barely missing Thanos' neck.

Thanos looks at you, wide-eyed and confused but before you could even answer his unasked questions, player 333 lunges for him again. You push Thanos away, trying your best to restrain him as you topple onto the floor with him, hitting your back onto to the cold tile floor. You gripped onto player 333's hand, trying to disarm him but his grip was tighter. His arm was stronger. He was stronger.

In the last few seconds, you catch Thanos's panicked gaze. Funny, that was the first time you had ever seen him panic. You give him a soft smile as you feel a sharp pain through your neck. Your neck heats up as you let go of player 333's hand, subconsciously trying to stop the blood from leaving your body.

Thanos tries to pull him off but it was no use as you continue to bleed out. Player 333's falls back, shocking painting his facw as his eyes stare at your face as you heaved, trying to breathe.

"Nonononono, c'mon y/n, you can't do this to me," Thanos says, immediately going to hold your head. He lifts you up slightly, holding you close to him as he takes his jacket off, trying to stop the bleeding. He wraps the green fabric across your neck, desperately trying to block the blood.

You could barely muster a goodbye, your vision fading slowly as it all turned into a haze, you could make out his purple tufts of hair as he stared at you.

"C'mon, that was real stupid of you y/n! You're Thanos' star, my star you can't die on me! You promised me one more game! I- I promised to take you out after we get out of this shithole." His voice was rapid, fast and breathless. Cracking and breaking slightly but stable enough to understand. No wonder he was a rapper. The thought amused you as you move to touch his face but your arms felt limp. You couldn't even move to touch him.

It wasn't long before you're heart stopped beating. The heart that once rapidly beat in Thanos' presence stopped at the moment he was closest to it.

Thanos could feel your soul leave your body. His mind reeled as he watches your eyes glaze over, your mouth slightly ajar as a satisfied look shrouded your face.

You were dead.

He couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true. His mind replayed your last moments as his hands that held your lifeless body shook. You were alive right? This was all some sort of sick nightmare, but as you laid unresponsive to his words. He was forced to deal with the truth.

He puts you down neatly on the tile floor, hands shaking as he opened the locket where he stored his drugs. Slowly, he popped one in, eyes roaming across the room until they see the man who had taken your life. He stood up, knuckles whitening as he rushes in front to put that man in his place.

It should've been him. It should've been Thanos. It should've been anyone but you.

He was a second away from pummeling the man's head in when the guards finally entered, tearing Thanos away from him.

They were all escorted into the main room, bloodied and battered. Thanos' mind kept replaying the scene, the drug seeming to have no effect in keeping those thoughts at bay. Beside him, Nam-gyu walks quietly, unsure of what to say.

Anger enveloped Thanos' mind as they announced the eliminated players, your number being called out last. His eyes look over to the X side, immediately catching player 333's gaze.

He had taken his money and had now stolen the person Thanos cared about the most.

Whatever the next game was, Thanos was going to make sure that player 333 gets eliminated.

[preydefiler]

thinking about being an abusive older sister... I keep my bedroom door closed and locked, not even our parents have a key. sometimes I bring someone home, and you can hear noises coming from under the door. you're curious, and you have to take a peek.

the first time you do, it's embarrassing. you watch me have sex with one of the neighborhood girls. it's rough, and there are times she's gagged and crying and you hear these incredibly wet noises, but this angle... you can't quite see. you never quite catch sight of my cock, which is... disappointing for some reason. you feel funny, and you think the feeling is wrong, but... you want more. so you seek more opportunities.

you find a spot in a tree in our backyard, where if you climb just high enough, you can wiggle into a space in the branches that gives you a view into my room. this time I'm in there alone, and I'm lounging on my bed. you watch me for a few minutes, mostly just me flipping through a magazine. but then I reach down and put a hand in my pants. you get that feeling again, and this time you start mimicking my movements. grinding against the branch you're laying on. you watch me unzip my pants and pull out my cock. it's hard, and fills up my hand, and you watch me pump while you moan softly in the leaves, until we both cum at the same time. you can't help but be mesmerized by the ropes I shoot, your tongue subconsciously sticking out of your mouth. you ruin your shorts, and have to spend the next half hour figuring out how to climb down and change without getting caught.

you decide you need a better view. you've tried sneaking in my room, but I keep it locked down tight. The door to my room is always closed. My window, however, doesn't always get locked. Perks of being on the second story. You find that if you climb on the roof from your window, you can climb down and into mine. The first time you tried, it was locked, and I almost caught you. The next time you were successful, and that's when you started coming in and listening to and watching me fuck near constantly.

Under the bed was an interesting choice. You shoved yourself under there because you were almost caught. You heard me unlocking the door just as you were closing the window. You were squeezed in with all kinds of other junk, old sports equipment and dirty clothes, which you secretly did enjoy having your face shoved into. a couple of boxes, some used sex toys, and some trash. You could hear everything, every noise and breath caught in my throat. Every moan the slut of the week groaned into my mattress. The humiliation of feeling my thrusts under my bed was tempting, but there was nothing to see but shed clothes.

Hiding in the closet seemed to be your favorite though. Through the slats in the door, you could see everything. Every inch of flesh, every drop of sweat and cum, every throb of my cock. You loved it. You couldn't get enough. You started jerking off into my clothes you found in there. Your favorite was a pair of my boxers that I had been too lazy to change for a few days, so they really stank like me. You'd watch, and pant, and rut into your hand as I would finish load after load into anything but you, and the hunger enveloped you. I started to be the only thing you thought about. But you were careful. You made sure you were never caught.

It was your birthday, and our parents were throwing you a party. You invited all your friends, there was music and games and even an inflatable bounce house, which you thought was a bit too childish, but didn't fight about it. You always kept an eye on me though. And I said, Fuck the party. You knew my routine by this point. I'd go steal a beer from the garage, sneak behind the tree to drink it, paw at one of the girls there until I took her up to my room for more of the same. You were prepared though. You snuck off from the party, and you were able to get inside my room. I had left my door unlocked, which was uncommon, but not unheard of, and you slipped inside the closet like so many times before. And like clockwork, there I was, leading one of your friends to my bed.

Something about this fuck felt different. I seemed... angry, almost, and I slammed into your friend with scary force. I pressed both of my hands into the small of your friend's back and I stretched her out and pushed as deep as I could. I pounded her wet holes, and I faced her towards the closet door. This was the hottest and roughest you had seen me be, at a few points seeing me punch into the slut's ribs a few times, told her I liked it better when she cried. and then, somehow, I looked at you. You swear I couldn't see you, you were hidden in the closet. you hadn't made any noise. but as I fucked your friend harder and angrier, I kept glancing at the door to the closet. I growled and groaned and finally thrusted my seed deep into your friend, and after a few minutes of gasping breaths, she gathered up her clothes, thanked me, and left.

I continued to lay there panting for a few moments longer before I got up and relocked the door behind your friend. Still nude, I flopped back on the bed on my back. My cock was angled directly at you, still mostly hard and glistening with cum and your friend's juices. After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, you caught me looking at the closet door again. I looked away out the window, and you were too afraid to move. Afraid to be caught. Your heart pounded in your chest, fearful of what I would say, what our parents would say. I made a frustrated face and then huffed loudly. I finally looked at the closet door again and made eye contact with you. I rolled my eyes and finally spoke.

"Well? Are you going to cower in there, or are you going to come and get a taste, clean me up? Figured I've made you wait long enough... C'mere, meimei, let me show you how happy a birthday you can have..."

[maybe-buttons]

The difference from this to the "usual" immigration camps is that Guantanamo was, in fact, built as a place where people get to commit unspeakable acts of violence and torture, and this is still the structure in place. It's like saying "I'm gonna reactivate this weapon factory but now we make cookies, swear to god", when you know the structure of the factory is for weapons, and there's no fucking way one can make a cookie with it. Guantanamo is a prison and a torture center and that's what it was built for and will be again.

"additional detention space" is very telling IMO

i feel like USAmericans should look up the modus operandi of their military in LATAM just so they know exactly what is unfolding right now. I say LATAM because it's what I know about, but possibly it's the same in the middle east and such. My impression is that they're kinda expecting like something huge and hilter-esque where the government goes "yes now we'll send every person that belongs to this group to a camp", which indeed is happening to immigrants, but also that's not how the USA operates regarding political dissidents.

People just kinda... start vanishing. And there's a nightmarish bureaucracy in place so there's plausible deniability that this person has run away or disappeared or killed themself and was definitely not taken by the government. Then people start vanishing A LOT and at that point it's obvious that it's the government but people are just too scared to speak up, or do anything and be the next or endanger their families because they do, in fact, take torture and kill children. Or just outright steal babies.

Just, you know, the USA works a certain way and it's very well known to people outside the USA but now that it's an internal issue I feel like they should learn about what to expect. Legit that's what the brazilian oscar movie is about, but honestly there's so much latin american media on it that I'm sure my mutuals from LATAM can recommend a fuckton of movies or books and even music that talks about how it happened in their own countries.

just watch out for vanishing people, that's what I mean

(Source)

[seoups]

want you back - m. fushiguro

you and megumi's relationship ended terribly. you'd spent the past few months trying to forget him- only to run into him at a party your best friend forced you to go to. cw: angst with a happy ending song: want you back by 5sos a/n: ik i just posted a megumi one but i love this man so here is yet another one

“NO MATTER WHERE I GO, I'M ALWAYS GONNA WANT YOU BACK.”

The first time Megumi saw you after the breakup was at a party. He hadn’t even noticed you until Itadori gasped loudly and pointed with no attempt to hide his shock.

You were standing across the room, talking to some guy, doing the same arm touch you did to him when you first met.

His stomach began to churn.

He couldn’t stand to see it. Couldn’t stand to see you moving on while he was still daydreaming about the memory of you. All he wanted to do was leave and try to forget you- something he’d attempted for the past month since you’d broken up.

“Let’s just go,” Megumi put down his drink. “No way,” Kugisaki insisted, crossing her arms. “You can’t let this breakup take over your life.”

That was when you spotted him too.

Your whole body froze, eyes locking with him across the crowded room. And suddenly, this party- this entire night- became your worst nightmare. Your best friend had insisted on you coming with her to this party and flirting with the guys to at least try and get yourself back out there.

You didn’t want to. This wasn’t something you typically did.

Megumi knew this. That’s why he was just as confused as you were.

Too frustrated and embarrassed by getting spotted by your ex-boyfriend, you spent the rest of the party on the couch and on your phone, pretending you weren’t hyperaware of his presence.

Megumi wouldn’t lie- he spent most of the night watching you. Ignoring every girl that tried to talk to him. Brusing off Kugisaki’s glares at him.

All he could think about was you.

The freckles on your back he’d spent time studying after the first time the two of you spent the night together.

The sound of your laugh that echoed through his brain anytime he dared to smile.

The way that you’d talk his ear off whenever you had the chance.

The way that you’d lean into him, desperate for his touch on hard days.

The way that your face would light up whenever he knocked on your door.

The way that you looked at him like he was the best thing in your life.

The roses on your shirt when you ended things with him.

The way your voice cracked as you told him, “This isn’t working.”

When the haze of the party became too much, you slipped out towards the balcony, craving some fresh air.

The air was cold and crisp, a nice contrast to the heat of the moving bodies at the party. You leaned against the railing, your fingers curling around the cold metal as you thought about you and Megumi’s prior relationship.

But then the door slid open behind you. Before you even turned to look, you knew who it was.

Megumi stepped onto the balcony, his hands shoved into his pockets. He wasn’t sure if he should have even followed you. But he made the plunge.

“Needed air?” he walked up to the railing, standing beside you. You let out a short, humorless laugh, “Clearly not as much as you did.”

A thick silence settled between you. You turned your gaze back to the skyline. But you could feel him watching you- studying you the way he always had.

“You seem different,” he finally said. “You do too.” “I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while, then,” he exhaled through his nose, barely nodding.

You hummed in agreement, watching the city lights twinkle in front of you. The part noice still bled through the glass door behind you. But out here on the balcony, it was quieter. Less suffocating.

But Megumi’s presence filled the space beside you in a way that made it impossible to ignore him.

The two of you hadn’t been alone together since the breakup. You’d made sure of that. It was easier to pretend that he didn’t exist when you weren’t looking straight at him.

But now, you were. And the weight of everything that was unsaid at the end of your breakup pressed against your ribs as if your lungs were going to explode.

Megumi shifted, his elbows resting against the railing as he turned his head slightly, his eyes still stuck on you. It made your throat tighten.

“You were talking to that guy inside,” his voice remained even. You tensed, “Yeah.”

His fingers curled into his palms. The image haunted his brain. The way you laughed at something the guy said. The way you reached out, touching his arm like you used to do to him when you laughed too hard.

“Didn’t think that was your thing,” he said finally. You let out a breath, your grip tightening on the cold railing, “It’s not.”

He knew that. He knew you would never do casual. Whenever you let someone in, you did it with your whole heart.

His jaw clenched, “Then why were yo-“ “Because I thought it’d help,” you snapped, turning towards him with frustration thick in your voice. “Because everyone kept telling me to move on from you. Everyone kept telling me I should put myself back out there as if I wasn’t the one who-“

You stopped yourself, biting down hard on your lip to stop them from moving.

Megumi’s gaze sharpened, “Like you weren’t the one who what?”

You looked away from his eyes for a moment. Megumi let the silence linger, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could say out loud.

Then, barely above a whisper, you said, “Like I wasn’t the one who ran away from us.”

Megumi stiffened. There it was. The truth he’d been waiting to hear come out of your mouth for months.

He’d spent months trying to figure out why you’d left. Everything was going perfect. He couldn’t understand why you’d leave.

And now that he was standing right next to you, with the weight of your words settling between you two, all he could think about was the way you used to look at him. Now, all that remained in your eyes is a look of apology and regret.

His throat tightened, “And now?” You inhaled sharply, your breath shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you did. And so did he.

Megumi turned fully toward you, shrinking the space between you by just a few inches. Close enough for you to feel his warmth and to smell the faint traces of cologne left on his hoodie after tonight. Close enough that if you turned your head just a little more, you’d be back in the place you had missed so damn much.

“Then figure it out,” he said quietly, his voice raw and honest.

Because he wasn’t over you. And he wasn’t going to pretend that he was. Not when you were standing right in front of him, looking like you might still want this too.