#My sanity is chipping apart. day. by. day.

[sethdomain]

the patience of a monk vs my restraint of not making a self harm joke

[theonottsbxtch]

SET FIRE TO THE RAIN | LN4

an: i'd like to preface this by saying this is purely fictional and i don't believe lando would behave like this, i've been in many situations like this or where i've watched goregous girls be brought down, if you ever find yourself in a situation like this, talk to someone and if you're too scared to do that. my inbox, my messages are open to talk, i know how difficult it is and i'll always be there for you, every step of the way. love you all <3

summary: based off of this request , the story of a girl who manages to set fire to the rain by finally cutting off a pattern.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: toxic relationship

She had sworn off men.

The last one had hollowed her out in ways she hadn’t thought possible. They’d met at university, and from the start, there was an intensity that made her feel alive, as if the world had cracked open just for them. He was charming, magnetic—a rare kind of brilliance that pulled people in without effort. But beneath the surface, there had been something darker. She’d noticed it in small moments at first, like the way he’d make her doubt her own memories or twist her words into knots she couldn’t untangle.

With him, everything good came with a price. A beautiful night could end with his cutting silence, or an ordinary conversation could spiral into accusations and resentment. He knew exactly how to keep her on edge, to keep her second-guessing herself, until she wasn’t sure where her own thoughts ended and his began.

By the time she realised how deeply he’d tangled her sense of self, it felt too late. She was trapped in a constant push and pull, desperate to hold onto the parts of him that had once felt like home, even as they chipped away at her sanity. She left university more bruised and broken than she’d ever been, feeling like a stranger to herself.

For months after, she found herself replaying conversations, picking apart moments, wondering if somehow she had been the problem. She promised herself she’d never let anyone pull her back into that place—she was done with love, or whatever twisted version of it she’d believed in.

But then she met Lando.

And he was different, at the start at least. There were no telltale signs, or maybe there were and she'd missed them all. But with Lando, she felt like a whole new woman.

Meeting him felt like something out of a story she’d stopped believing in. He was bright, alive, a force of nature. She’d been swept up almost instantly, drawn not just to his charm but to the way he seemed to move through the world. Lando was a Formula One driver—a rising star with an infectious grin and the kind of life that felt thrillingly out of reach. He wore his confidence like a second skin, turning heads everywhere he went, and somehow, for reasons she still didn’t fully understand, he’d turned his gaze toward her.

Their first days together were a whirlwind. He flew her out to races, their weekends a blur of city lights, roaring engines, and late-night conversations where he shared his dreams with a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. She felt as if she was breathing for the first time in years. Lando seemed genuinely interested in her—not just in her beauty or her laughter, but in the way she thought, the things that kept her up at night. He listened in a way her ex never had, his attention a gentle but steady presence that quieted the shadows of her past.

With Lando, she was lighter, bolder. She found herself laughing more, breaking free from the cautious habits she'd formed to protect herself. Even the constant travel, the media attention, the risks that came with his career—none of it scared her. If anything, she was excited by it, captivated by his life at full throttle. She told herself that this was what real love must feel like: exhilarating and limitless.

And yet, as the months slipped by, small things began to nag at her—a flicker of irritation in his eyes when she questioned him, a quiet possessiveness in the way he’d tug her closer when others looked her way. They were tiny cracks, the kind of things she could overlook. But her instincts, dulled as they were by the thrill of his attention, began to stir, whispering that all wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

She brushed off those whispers. She had promised herself she wouldn’t let fear drive her life, wouldn’t let a good thing slip away just because of shadows in her past. Lando was different, after all. He had shown her sides of herself she thought she’d lost forever.

But sometimes, late at night, she couldn’t ignore the familiar tightening in her chest, a flicker of unease she couldn’t explain. It was nothing��just a bad memory she needed to bury, she told herself.

She was safe, she was happy.

And that was all that mattered.

Until it didn’t.

It started in the small, invisible ways. A slight edge to his voice when she couldn’t make it to a race. The way his grip on her hand tightened a fraction too much when she was talking to someone else, even just a friend. She told herself these things were normal, the quirks of a man under constant pressure. Lando’s world was built on speed, danger, and fierce competition. It made sense that he’d be intense, that he might sometimes hold her a little too tightly.

Then came the nights when he’d disappear after races, unreachable, only to return hours later with excuses she could barely piece together. She’d lie in bed, watching the clock, her mind twisting in circles she’d thought she’d left behind. When he finally came back, he’d laugh off her questions, brushing them aside with an easy charm that was starting to feel a bit too practised.

“You worry too much, baby,” he’d say, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a smile that was all show and no substance.

She wanted to believe him. She’d fought so hard to let her guard down, to believe that love didn’t have to mean hurt. And for a while, she’d manage to push the doubt aside. After all, wasn’t it better to be with him, flaws and all, than to be haunted by ghosts she couldn’t let go of?

But the cracks widened. One evening, after a long dinner with friends, he pulled her aside, his voice low and edged with irritation. “I don’t like how you were looking at Oscar tonight,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing.

She blinked, caught off guard. “Oscar? He’s your teammate, Lando. We were just talking about your race.”

“I don’t care what you were talking about. You don’t need to give him that much attention.” The words were soft, but there was an edge beneath them that sent a chill through her.

It was like something inside her split open, letting old fears seep through the walls she’d so carefully built. She tried to laugh it off, to remind herself that Lando was nothing like the man from her past, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was slipping, that she was losing her footing on familiar, dangerous ground.

The excuses she made for him started to feel heavier, harder to carry. She was left questioning herself, wondering if maybe she was the problem, if somehow, her history had left her too damaged to hold onto happiness.

But deep down, beneath the doubt and the fear, she knew something was wrong. It wasn’t just her past haunting her this time; it was Lando. The way he seemed to light up her world only to cast shadows over it moments later. The way he made her feel seen and invisible all at once. She could feel herself changing again, growing cautious, careful.

And with each passing day, the Lando she’d once trusted felt more and more like a stranger.

But leaving? That felt impossible.

After all, who else would love her like he did?

No one would.

At least, that’s what her ex had said. It was what Lando insinuated, so it had to be true.

The words echoed in her mind on the quietest nights, when she lay beside him, his arm heavy over her waist, pinning her down in more ways than one. She’d stare at the ceiling, tracing the same lines over and over, feeling trapped in a strange in-between—a place where she was too afraid to stay but too afraid to leave.

When she’d first heard those words from her ex, they’d cut deep, etching a truth she carried like a scar: No one else will love you. No one will understand you the way I do. She’d almost forgotten how it felt to hear them again, subtle and soft, woven into Lando’s comments, his sideways glances, the way he’d sometimes pull her close and murmur, “You’re lucky I put up with you, you know.”

And, to her shame, she’d nod, a small part of her believing it. Maybe she was lucky, she thought, to be wanted by someone as thrilling as him. Who else would have taken her on whirlwind weekends, whisked her away to foreign cities, painted her life in colours she’d only dreamed of? Who else could make her feel this alive and desired? Surely, she should be grateful.

So she stayed, clinging to that fragile, half-real world they’d built together. She ignored the voices of her friends, who’d started to ask if she was okay, if she was happy. She brushed off their concerns with a laugh, told them Lando was just “passionate,” that he had a fire in him, that life with him was thrilling, intense. But the truth was that he didn’t bring just fire; he brought a burn that left her raw, exhausted, a shadow of the woman she’d thought she’d become.

The turning point came one rainy night, it hardly rained in Monaco, after an argument that had started small but escalated, Lando’s anger flaring as she’d barely managed to keep herself from shrinking under his words. He’d stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving her alone in the dim light, the sound of rain pattering against the window like a quiet reminder of everything she was losing.

As she sat there, a familiar sense of dread settled in her chest, mingling with the weight of words she’d heard too many times before. You’re lucky I’m here. No one else would deal with you. No one else would want you.

But this time, she felt something else—a flicker of defiance, an anger that had long been smothered by fear and doubt. She realised, with a clarity that shook her, that these words weren’t truths but weapons. Weapons used to keep her in place, to make her question herself until she couldn’t see straight.

Maybe she was more than what he saw in her. Maybe she was more than the broken woman her ex had left behind.

The rain outside was pouring harder now, pounding against the window, drowning out everything but her own heartbeat. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the weight lift, even if only slightly. She didn’t know if she had the strength to leave, but she knew she couldn’t stay—not like this.

Being with Lando felt like trying to set fire to rain.

Every time she reached for warmth, for comfort, her hands came away empty. Every promise he made seemed to evaporate just as quickly, leaving her cold and reaching for something that was never really there. Loving him was an exercise in futility, like trying to hold a flame in a storm, only to be drenched by the downpour of his moods, his shifting affections, his quiet, calculated disapproval.

He came home that night, soaked from the rain, his eyes darker than usual, his expression unreadable. She could smell the sharp tang of whiskey on him, the subtle tremor in his hands as he reached for her. She took a step back, though, bracing herself.

“Where were you?” she asked softly, not even expecting a real answer. She’d stopped expecting those a while ago.

He shrugged, a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Out,” he said, as if that was explanation enough. He glanced at her, his eyes sweeping over her with a mix of amusement and something colder, something she couldn’t place. “Why? Did you miss me?”

There was a time when she’d have laughed, played along, swallowed her doubts and insecurities just to keep things smooth between them. But that time was gone. Now, she felt nothing but a quiet emptiness where her laughter used to be.

“Maybe I did,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But not anymore.”

A flicker of something crossed his face—surprise, maybe, or the sting of wounded pride. He scoffed, leaning back, crossing his arms as he studied her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She swallowed, steadying herself. “It means I don’t want to be kept in the dark anymore. It means I’m done waiting for you to be someone you’ll never be. You talk about how lucky I am, Lando, but the truth is, I think I deserve better than… than this.” Her voice cracked, and she felt her face flush with both fear and defiance.

He laughed, a low, mocking sound that sent a chill through her. “You think you can do better than me?”

She met his gaze, her hands trembling as she fought to keep her voice steady. “Yes. I think I can.”

It was a small, simple statement, but as the words left her mouth, she felt something shift inside her, like a flame catching despite the rain. She knew he’d try to reel her back in, try to make her doubt herself, to make her think she’d never be enough for anyone else.

But she’d felt enough of the fire and the rain, the illusion of warmth that left her soaked and freezing. She was done waiting for him to change, done trying to be enough for someone who would never be satisfied.

He watched her for a long, silent moment, his face unreadable. Then, with a harsh, humourless laugh, he turned and walked away into his gaming room, leaving her standing alone in the dim light, the rain pounding against the windows like a heartbeat.

And as she stood there, she realised she’d already begun to let go. For the first time, she wasn’t afraid of the emptiness, the quiet. She was ready to face it, to feel the cold and the rain, knowing that someday she’d find her own warmth again.

This time, she wouldn’t look back.

She packed her bags, and unlike with her ex, she didn’t cry. She didn’t find an excuse to stay.

With each item she folded and placed into her suitcase, a sense of liberation washed over her. Clothes, books, the little mementos she’d collected during their whirlwind romance—all of it felt heavy, like anchors that had dragged her down into a darkness she no longer wished to inhabit. This time, she didn’t hesitate to let go.

The silence in the apartment felt almost deafening, but it was a comforting kind of silence, the kind that echoed with possibilities rather than the suffocating weight of past memories. She moved methodically, her hands steady and sure, and each zip of the suitcase felt like another step toward reclaiming herself.

When she finished, she stood in the middle of the living room, looking around at the remnants of their life together. It felt surreal, like a movie set she’d walked onto without ever really belonging. There were the photos of them at races, beaming smiles and happy moments frozen in time, and the framed poster of him in his racing gear, his helmet in hand, looking ready to conquer the world. But now, instead of warmth, those images filled her with a sense of finality. They were remnants of a story that had come to an end.

Her heart raced as she glanced toward the room he was in, half-expecting Lando to return and confront her, to wrap her in his familiar embrace and whisper sweet words that would lure her back into his web. But she shook the thought away. She wouldn’t fall for that crap again. This was her moment, the beginning of something new, and she refused to let fear creep back in.

Because she loved herself.

And in order to love herself, she had to choose herself.

So she did.

the end.

[negansfavlucille01]

NEIGHBOR

Negan × f!reader

Summary: Y/N's noisy neighbor, Negan, throws another party while she tries to sleep, so she makes yet another complain, which leads to his dick deep in her

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, Negan being an asshole noisy neighbor, choking, rough (not so rough) sex, enemies to sex buds...?

Word count: 2,5K

Choosing a new place to live was kind of hard. How many tries it took to find the perfect apartment? Y/N didn't know herself. But she found it and decorated it in her style. When she moved in, some of the neighbors brought her cookies, pies and whatnot else as a "welcome to the building". Most of them were nice, old people who were already retired. She was glad she had finally found a place where all the neighbors were nice... Or she thought. Until she met Negan. He was the man living above her apartment. With all the parties he threw, Y/N had to go ask him to quiet down many times, but he always kept being loud. None of them liked the other. She even wondered how the old ladies liked him and always talked about what a "great young man" he was. What was so nice about him? He always looked grumpy and mad at the world. She had to admit, he was pretty good looking, but that wasn't an excuse for being an asshole. Later on, she learned he was a baseball coach. How could someone so grumpy work with kids? It didn't sit right in her mind.

Work was hard that day and Y/N was tired. Her shift finished in half an hour and she couldn't wait to get home and take a hot bath. After what felt like forever, her boss walked into her office and announced that the work day was off. Y/N quickly closed her laptop, grabbed her bag and left. Friday was over, no more work for the week. What could go wrong? Oh, of course... It was Friday. There was no way the dickhead above won't have friends over. So, no. She wouldn't be able to relax. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not the next day. As she drove her car into the parking lot of the building, she noticed Negan getting off his motorcycle and taking off his helmet. He looked so good with messy hair. No. She couldn't think like that about someone who had zero respect for people. She thought about saying hi, but didn't. Instead, she walked past him like he didn't exist.

"Oh, you don't know me now? And people say I'm fucking rude..." He smiled arrogantly and started walking next to her with his helmet in hand. He walked faster and passed her. Reaching for the front door, he opened it and walked in the building. He wasn't the gentleman the old ladies said he was and didn't hold the door for Y/N. It closed right in her face and she sighed heavily and searched for her keys in her purse.

"Gentleman, my ass. What a moron..." She unlocked the front door and walked in, impatient to get to her apartment. Life, though, wasn't on her side because one of the two elevators was taken and Negan was already walking to the other. She sighed quietly and walked towards the elevator, getting in with the devil himself. She could feel his judgmental look on her. What was the dudes problem? She brushed it away. Going up to the sixth level wasn't long, but with Negan there, it felt like she was getting old waiting. She got home, took off her make up, poured herself a glass of white whine and got in the hot bath. She relaxed for about 30 minutes before getting out. Drying her body with a soft towel and laying down in a robe, reading was great, until something from above made a loud thud. "Not that fucker again.."

The noises continued, relentless and unyielding, a constant barrage that chipped away at her sanity. At first, it was just the occasional creak or thud, but as time went on, they grew more frequent, more insistent. And then, as if the noises weren't enough, loud music started blaring, the kind that shook the walls and vibrated through the ceiling. Desperate for relief, she tried everything she could think of. She would sit cross-legged on her bed, forcing herself to take deep, calming breaths, trying to keep herself from going up and murdering Negan. She switched to listening to her favorite music on earbuds, tried sleeping with two pillows pressed firmly over each ear, the soft fabric muffling the world outside, but it wasn't enough. No matter how she adjusted or what she tried, the noise was still there. She finally accepted that sleep was beyond her reach. After hours of tossing and turning, trying every trick she knew to drown out the relentless noise, she realized there was no point in continuing the fight. Y/N didn't even bother getting changed from her robe when she walked out of the apartment. She got in the elevator and got on the next level, ready to kill Negan if necessary. She reached his apartment, her frustration bubbling over as she raised her hand and knocked on the door loudly, the sound echoing down the hallway. Her patience was thin, and she was ready to demand that he quiet down, the words already forming on her lips as she stood there, bracing herself for the confrontation.

Here's a slightly longer version of that text:

The music lowered slightly, as if someone had finally noticed the knock. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a man with a disheveled appearance and a bemused expression. He glanced her over before turning his head back inside the apartment. "Hey, Negan," he called out, a hint of amusement in his voice, "there's a hot chick standing here."

Negan strolled over to the door, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. But as soon as his eyes landed on her, the smile abruptly faded, his expression shifting to something far more serious. "What can I do for you?"

She shot him a glare, her frustration evident as she glanced past him into the chaotic scene of his apartment. Music still hummed in the background, and the remnants of the party were scattered everywhere. "Well, I'm sure you're not surprised," she began, her voice laced with irritation, "but I'm gonna need you to quiet down."

Negan raised an eyebrow, then shrugged nonchalantly. "No worries, the party’s over," he said with a hint of amusement as about twenty people began to stream out of his apartment, laughing and chattering as they passed by her. He turned back to her, leaning casually against the doorframe. "If the noise bothers you so much, why don’t you just move?"

She folded her arms and met his gaze defiantly. "I just switched apartments to get away from the last set of noisy neighbors. Wouldn't it be easier if you weren't so loud?"

Negan smirked, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “You didn’t bother changing out of your robe, love?” he asked, his tone teasing, his mind clearly wandering to inappropriate places. He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze drifting over her lazily. “I like it. It’s cute... suits you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, refusing to be flustered by his playful remarks. “No, I didn’t,” she replied, her voice steady as she met his gaze without flinching. “I wanted to sleep, but your party was in my way.” Her words were firm, her frustration evident, but there was a hint of something else in the air between them—a tension that neither seemed willing to acknowledge, yet neither could ignore.

Negan's teasing grin softened as the tension between them thickened, his gaze locking with hers. Without another word, he stepped closer, closing the distance between them. She didn’t pull away when he reached out, his hand brushing her cheek before he tilted her chin up slightly. Their breaths mingled, and then, almost hesitantly, his lips met hers.

The kiss started slow, a tentative exploration, but quickly deepened as their frustrations melted into something else entirely. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer as she responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair. The pull between them was undeniable, electric, and before they knew it, they were stumbling toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss as they crossed the threshold and fell onto the bed together. As they tumbled onto the bed, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the quiet, dimly lit room. Negan’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The kiss grew more intense, driven by a mix of lingering frustration and unexpected desire. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, while her fingers traced the contours of his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his skin. Their breathing quickened, the moment charged with a shared urgency. Negan shifted, rolling them over so she was beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he gazed down at her with a hunger that made her heart race. The teasing smirk that usually played on his lips was gone, replaced by something far more serious, almost vulnerable. For a brief second, their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them, a silent acknowledgment that this was more than just a fleeting moment. Then, with a low growl, he claimed her lips again, deepening the kiss as his hands slid under her robe, exploring the soft skin of her ass.

She arched into him, the last remnants of resistance melting away as they surrendered completely to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. His hands moved expertly, pushing the robe off her shoulders and letting it fall away, revealing her bare skin to his eager touch. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his torso, before descending on her again. Negan’s lips and hands were everywhere, worshiping every inch of her body with a fervor that left her breathless. She gasped as his mouth found her breast, sucking and teasing the sensitive peak with his tongue while his hand slid down her stomach, finding its way between her legs. His fingers moved with deliberate, tantalizing slowness, driving her wild with need. She moaned, her hips bucking against his hand, craving more of his touch. Negan obliged, his fingers slipping inside her, finding her wet and ready. He groaned against her skin, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on her. "You like that, don’t you?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breathless plea. "I need you."

Negan grinned, his eyes dark with a primal hunger as he looked down at her. "Then you’ll fuckin' have me," he promised, his voice a low, rough whisper that sent shivers down her spine. With deliberate slowness, he reached for his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he unfastened it. His gaze never left hers, the intensity in his eyes making her heart race. He took his time, letting the anticipation build as he slid the belt out of its loops and tossed it aside. With a confident smirk, Negan unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers, freeing himself from the last of his clothing. He stood there for a moment, completely exposed, letting her take in every inch of him. His cock was huge, about 8 inches and thick, veiny. Then, without another word, he climbed back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers as he prepared to fulfill the promise he had just made. He entered her with a forceful, eager motion, not giving her a moment to adjust before he began moving with a powerful rhythm. "Fuck, that pussy is tight..." His thrusts were fast and driven, each one filled with a raw, unrestrained energy that matched the heat of the moment. The room was filled with the sounds of their shared passion—the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, their breathy gasps, and the creaks of the bed.

"Negaaaannnn...!" She cried out, the tension getting to her. She was close and he knew it. The way her pussy was squeezing him, the way her legs shook, the way her eyes rolled back and her mouth hung slightly open. He reached down, rubbing her clit, his hard thrusts never stopping, but only getting harder. Some men liked doggystyle because they had control of the situation, but Negan wasn't that man. He loved missionary. What wasn't perfect about this position? Tits bouncing, eye contact, seeing the persons face, their legs shaking and so on.

“Yeah, come for me, baby,” Negan growled in a low, throaty voice, his breath hot against her ear, his hand going to her throat, taking away her breath. “Soak my fucking cock...” His words were rough, filled with a mix of desire and command as he continued to drive into her with a relentless rhythm. The sensation of her walls tightening around him only fueled his passion further. He grunted with each thrust, the intensity of their connection building to an almost unbearable peak. His hands gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements as he pushed them both closer to the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he let out a primal groan, the tension within him releasing as he came deep inside her. The moment was charged with raw, unfiltered pleasure, leaving them both gasping and trembling in the aftermath. He collapsed next to her, his breathing heavy.

She turned to look at him, her expression a mix of exhaustion and amusement as she caught her breath. “Can you be quieter next time?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying a playful edge.

Negan’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction as he chuckled softly, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. He propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze meeting hers with a teasing glint. “Oh, if we do this again,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll make sure to be as quiet as a mouse.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he added in a low, conspiratorial tone, “Wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors, now would we?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head as she snuggled closer to him, the playful banter a pleasant counterpoint to the earlier intensity. “I’m sure they’d appreciate that,” she replied, her voice softening as she nestled into the warmth of his embrace.

Negan’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Alright,” he said, his tone more sincere now, “I’ll keep it down. Just for you.” His smile was genuine as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, the earlier fervor giving way to a more relaxed, intimate moment between them.

[ayabeanworks]

Title: Hold me tighter

Synopsis: You knew Suguru wasn't well, and you did everything within your power to be there for him, including inviting yourself on a certain mission where two young girls were rescued.

Character: Geto Suguru x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Fluff, angst, swearing, feral!reader who probably hung out with Gojo too much, Geto pining, mentions of death and alludes to depression. AU where Geto doesn't defect.

Somewhat of a prequel to this AU.

You were amazing. You were strong. You were also terrifying.

That's how Geto Suguru saw you during a certain mission.

He and you had been assigned on the mission in a small town inhabiting only more of 100 people, with weird things like deaths and disappearances of the villagers.

You begged the higher ups to go because you were worried about Suguru's health, and you didn't want to leave him alone. You had noticed a downward spiral from him, and these days, it seemed to be getting worse. You also had a very bad feeling about this mission, and you were going to do whatever you could to make sure Suguru's sanity remained intact.

Even if the elders said no, you were going to go anyway. And that's exactly what you did.

"What exactly is this?"

Suguru had an expression of exasperation as he saw the young girls locked up in the wooden cage, bloodied and bruised, holding onto each other for support.

You could smell the thick scent of blood in the air, as well as see the dried, old patches of blood here and there when you eyes darted around the room. Apart from blood, there were other smells, similar to an abandoned alleyway where the homeless would reside.

Your jaw clenched and your eyes, widened with the need to see every and anything in the room, hoped they were lying when they landed on the girls. You counted the number of bruises on their limbs, the blood on their clothes, the blood on their face, the eye injuries each of them had.

It made your blood run cold. They looked to be just around 6-7 years old, only just old enough to understand and learn more complicated math in a school setting.

Not here.

Not here, bloodied and bruised.

It was like something inside you snapped, and all inhibitions went out the window. Like boiling water, it started to simmer, and you slowly turned to the two villagers as they conversed with Suguru, holding down your anger as your fists clenched and released.

"What do you mean? They're the cause of this, right?" One of the two who accompanied you both raised a hairy brow, his arm raising and trying to make a point.

"No." You could feel Suguru trying to continue being polite, but the slight edge in his voice was obvious.

"But those two strange ones are using their strange powers to attack the villagers!"

"I've already determined the cause of the incidents." Suguru gave a statement, one that he determined after being in the village for 5 days with you.

"My grandson was killed by these two." The older lady chipped in, a terrible frown on her wrinkly features.

Ugly.

Your shoulders relaxed and a light exhale released from your lips. You took a couple of steps forward to stand by Suguru, placing a hand on his shoulder softly, patting it a couple of times.

So they want to die?

Suguru glanced at you, his hand still up, about to summon a curse as he battled with his inner demons.

You gave him a little smile, one you'd give him all the time, but the underlying feeling made him tense. It was much darker, much more sinister.

"He's the one who-!" The girls from the cage exclaimed, but was shut down by the shouting of the male villager.

"Shut up, you monster!!! Your parents were exactly the same! We should have killed you when you were babies!"

"Shut the fuck up."

A loud thump from your fist embued with cursed energy, as well as a resounding crack from the same area tore a bloodhurdling scream from the middle aged male villager.

Suguru's eyes widened as his tensed hand lowered to his side, lips parting in shock at your actions.

That was the first time Suguru has ever seen you so angry you snapped. It sent chills down his spine and the hairs on his body to raise. His body tensed from the accumulation of cursed energy around you.

"Does having a broken rib hurt?" Your words were laced with worry, but with the unyielding mocking tilt in it, it was hardly convincing. "Do you want me to break your arm as well? That'll numb the pain a little."

You strode forward a couple of steps, coming in closer to the older male, crouching down slightly as you grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him in as your foot landed on the shoulder of the arm you pulled, about to dislocate his arm with a rough pull.

A strangled cry for you to stop made you raise your brow as a scowl adorned your face. Your eyes narrowed at the man below you. He was breathing heavily as he grabbed your ankle, trying to pry you off weakly, but to no avail. His grip was painfully weak, and he was struggling to breathe. You wondered if the broken rib pierced his lungs or any other organ?

"Oh? You want me to stop?" You taunted, an amused chuckle resonating through your chest. "Did you stop when you and the village were tormenting those poor kids? Beating them up and locking them up in here?" You dug your heel into his shoulder as you pushed him into the concrete wall, twisting it a couple of times for good measure. He writhed in pain as his grip on your ankle tightened, but you pulled at his arm, making him scream out.

The older lady on the side, who had been trembling the whole time in shock, suddenly let out a screech and flung herself at you, her arms flailing to hit you to let go of her fellow villager.

You grit your teeth as you grab the village man's arm with your left arm, using your elbow as an anchor point to throw a perfectly timed slap to the woman's face, causing her to hit the wall next to him after spinning in the air a couple of times.

"Wow, didn't know a human could spin so much. Especially for an old lady!" You light up into a smile. The smile didn't reach your eyes and was instead habouring a deep hatred for the types of people you were fighting, ready to rip off their arms and limbs if necessary.

"You can join you grandson now. I'm sure he's waiting for you."

What a sorry excuse for a human being.

"[name]..." Suguru called our your name hesitantly, glancing at the two girls in the wooden cage. They were trembling, hugging each other as they watched you. However, it didn't seem like they were scared. Their eyes showed admiration, and were widened in a surprise that could be interpreted as positive.

His eyes once again landed on you. You didn't even react to him saying your name - it was like you were in a state of mania, with such a fluctation in temperament and emotions, it felt like a different person. It didn't feel like you.

Did he even know you?

Who was the person in front of him?

He looked back at the girls, walking a couple of steps closer before trying to shield what you were doing with his body.

"Answer my question. Did you or did you not stop when you were tormenting those kids?" You looked to the wall where the woman hit, seeing her barely unconscious on the ground after the smack made her life flash before her very eyes.

The villager man screamed, "I-AAHHh-hah, you...you'RE THE DEVIL!"

"Oh, wow, you think I'm the devil?" You didn't even miss a beat at responding, giving him a doe eyed look to vouch for your innocence. Your expression shifted to a crazed grin, a laughter erupting in your throat as you pulled roughly at his arm, a loud pop ringing in the air as you dislocated it. You let him scream, collapsing over as you let go of his arm, allowing it to drop to his side as he cried, streaks of tears staining his shirt as drool flowed out of his mouth at the pain. You lean in, a smile on your lips as you coo at his current state, "Honey, if I'm the devil, then what are you and the other villagers? I think you're all devil's incarnate, so we should be the same, no? Why the scared face? Just like you said, I'm a devil. No, we're both devils."

You watch as his expression contorts to one where he wanted to scream something in your face, anger taking hold of him as the fear takes a seat. He was sweating, and the colour was draining from his face from the pain you inflicted.

You could only chuckle at his sorry state, clicking your tongue at him a couple of times. "But there's one thing you got wrong, darling. I'm not the devil, I'm your grim reaper."

You pull your foot back as the man's consciousness finally breaks, and he slumps over to join his fellow unconscious villager after enduring the pain.

"Didn't even answer the fucking question." You muttered, clicking your tongue once more. You fished your phone from your pocket and gave a call to the Windows nearby to alert them of what happened.

As you did so, Suguru watched you. He was frozen in his spot, unable to move. He was in shock at the way you handled the two just now. It was different to when you sparred together, and it made him realise you always unconsciously held back.

While he watched you release your anger at them, he had calmed down. His mind and heart less cloudy than before as he watched everything unfold before him. It gave him a rationality of thought, juxtaposed with your outburst. It almost made thinking a lot easier, with you by his side in such a state.

It reminded him of his best friend Satoru, and he wondered how much time you spent with him to become like this. After all, that mocking tone and speech was actually quite similar that it scared him - or, did you have this side hidden the whole time, but had control over yourself that you didn't break until the situation called for it?

By no means did he condone what you did, but if you didn't handle it the way you did, he didn't know what he would've done. He was so close to breaking that it was almost a miracle he didn't.

"[name]." Suguru repeated your name again after you finished your phone call, taking a couple of steps towards you.

"Hm, yes, Sugu?" You questioned him with a genuine smile. Your usual smile was on your lips as you tilt your head slightly at him, wondering what he wanted to ask.

He paused, wondering which was the real you. The switch was so fast, and oh so sudden. Your cursed energy had dissipated and wasn't so condensed, and your calm temperament was back. It confused him, and he wondered if he was in the wrong for thinking of such horrible things before you literally broke a person's rib.

He grabbed the hand you used to hit the man in the stomach and slap the other, seeing no injuries. Gliding his thumb over the areas that made contact, he closed his eyes for a moment, heaving a light sigh, before making eye contact with you again.

"We should get the girls to safety." You nod to the girls in the cage, placing a hand on Suguru's hand as you pat it a couple of times before releasing from his grip.

Suguru watched as you broke the lock of the cage, taking the girls out carefully. They latched onto you and murmured quiet thank yous as they cried in your arms. It hurt his heart to see such young children suffer from the hands of horrible adults. They didn't deserve this.

He walked over and leaned down slightly, placing his large hands on the girls' heads, gently ruffling their hair. He also ruffled your one too since you were crouched down to their level, a funny noise coming from your throat at the unexpected affection. Seeing your reaction, the girls glanced at each other and did the same, placing their hands gently on your head as they pet it like they did a small animal.

You laughed lightly, a sound so delightful to Suguru's ears at this current moment that it slowly wedged its way into his darker thoughts.

"The Windows should be here soon," You looked from Suguru to the girls, "We'll be taking you back with us. You'll be provided shelter and food, and life will be much better than here." You grabbed a hand from each girl, thumb caressing the back of their hand.

They fervently nodded their heads, ready to depart from the wretched village they used to call home.

The minute the four of you arrived back at Jujutsu High, you were pulled over by an angry Yaga, who began berating you for going on the mission regardless of what the elders have said, and that you were to see them immediately.

"This is unlike you, [name]! Suguru could have handled it on his own." Yaga pinched his nose bridge, obviously frustrated at your handling of the situation.

You crossed your arms, quickly glancing over at Suguru, the girls and the Window accompanying them. They were watching you, and the girls were getting tugged to go to Shoko for their injuries, but they didn't want to leave since you were getting yelled at.

You met Geto's eyes, which held yours for a moment, before you looked back at Yaga with a heavy exhale. "Well, yes." You said simply. Yaga stared at you like you'd grown another head, wondering why what you said was different from your actions.

"Since you understand that, then why--"

"So do the elders want to see me now?" You interrupted. You didn't want to hear it from him nor did you want to elaborate. It wasn't like they were going to understand what you were doing anyway.

Yaga made an expression he normally did when dealing with Satoru, before sighing. "They'll see you now. You're probably not going to get out of this unscathed."

"So what are they going to do? Kill me? The villagers are still alive and well, just a little bit in pain." You waved at the girls and Suguru as you left with Yaga.

"I'll be back in a bit. Gonna get ripped a new one." You joked light-heartedly. It was the elders, after all. They're going to rip into any and every material and weakness they had on you so they could bring you under their control.

But you weren't going to succumb.

No fucking way.

Suguru watched as you left, his waving hand falling to his side. He felt little hands grab his pants as you left, each one belonging to the little girls saved.

"Is [name] going to get in trouble for saving us?" Their worried tone of voice was so sweet, so young, it hurt Geto.

He shook his head, "Only a little bit. But they'll be ok." He placed his large hands on each of their heads and ruffled their hair gently, careful not to get any healing areas.

"I think [name] will be happy if you go to Shoko and get healed up." Suguru nodded at the Window, who tried to get the little girls with them.

The girls stared up at him for a moment, then let go and nodded, trusting his words. They each grabbed the Window's hands and asked them to lead the way.

And, Geto Suguru was alone once again with his thoughts, the whole fiasco weighing on his mind as his feet took him to your room.

Geto Suguru wandered why he sat in your room all the time. He practically lived in there now, with how often he was there instead of his own room or house.

You often dragged him when you saw him alone, to your room so he could keep you company, citing 'loneliness', but really, later down the track he realised he was the one needing your company instead, and he looked forward to when he was able to be around you. He also knew you weren't really 'lonely', but rather wanted him to know someone was willing to be there for him.

Could you read minds?

Sure, his other best friend Satoru wasn't around as often due to taking more solo missions, and Shoko was in the morgue, but at least he was able to see her. But out of the three, he saw you the most, and he was glad he did.

When did it start?

He wondered when he started coming to yours, now considered normal without any asking, without any hesitation.

He thinks it was right after the mission with Riko, the star plasma vessel. That was when you started inviting him to things way more often, trying whatever you could to fill up his time and space whenever Satoru and Shoko weren't there. So he was never alone.

The compliments, the time, attention, and love he was showered was almost too much for him when he realised it after this specific mission, and he had to lean forward and hold his head in his hands as the burden of his own thoughts made his eyes glassy.

The one who had reached out their hand, unwavering and steady, was you.

It was always you.

And since it started, the others did their best to support whenever they could, and that would've been an effort on your behalf, most likely you letting them know what you were doing.

Geto let out a choked sob as he let the tears fall in silence. Even though it tore him inside with which side he wanted to take when it came to protecting or not protecting non-sorcerers, he thought of you, he thought of Satoru, and he thought of Shoko. He thought of the girls you and him rescued, and the lives of the other sorcerers he went to school with. He thought of the non-sorcerers who didn't understand what it meant to live as a shaman, and he thought of the ones who cried and thanked him gratefully.

He hated the Jujutsu society and how it was structured. He hated how non-sorcerers were the bane and root of their existence, and the discrimination that comes with being a Jujutsu sorcerer as a minority.

Even though he was combating the very notion of accepting either side of the war raging inside him, he wondered how you were able to be as you are. How you were able to continue on your missions, how you were able to continue on the marathon race called shamantism? Did it not affect you?

But he knew it did, but how deeply he did not know.

He had heard you crying your heart out for Haibara, who was easily one of your favourite underclassmen, alone, when you woke up in the middle of the night before and during the mission you both came back from. But, even though he heard your sobs and cries, he couldn't say anything. All he could do was pretend to sleep and move so one of his arms was draping over you stomach, his forehead touching your shoulder as a way of saying 'I'm here for you'.

He would notice the way you calmed down when he did so, and it was something he noted for next time.

In his mind, he could recognise your smile and your voice, every one of your words drilled into his head as the tears fell onto the floorboards.

He was originally doing this for himself and wanted a solid foundation to base his beliefs off. Before, it was strong, but after the Riko mission, it faltered, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue down the same path.

And now, he was at a crossroad.

He wanted to trust in those who had faith in him, and the good in the people who were not the bad kind of non-sorcerers. Because the world had both. If his noble cause was just to protect the weak, those who weren't able to protect themselves and were good people, then so be it. Those who were corrupt, there will be another punishment waiting for them.

And so, he made up his mind.

"Sugu! Those elders put me under house arrest! For disobeying orders!" You opened the door to your room, half exclaiming and half grinning at the punishment given.

You gave a momentary pause when you saw Suguru with his head in his hands, hunched over where he normally sat at the foot of your bed.

With your arrival, he looked up, his loose hair slightly covering his face. But you could tell, he looked like he'd been crying, or was he still crying?

You took off your shoes, shut the door and immediately made a beeline to him, standing between his legs and cupping his cheeks with both your hands as you stared at him, searching his eyes for answers, for reasons, for everything. He stared up at you, sniffing every couple of seconds as his tears dried.

"Sugu." Your voice was a whisper, "What are you thinking?"

The softness of your voice didn't go unnoticed. Suguru always noticed. His hands hesitantly held your wrist, fingers wrapped around loosely so if you wanted to get out of his grip, you could.

The silence was palpable. It was heavy, and it tasted thick. He could only feel the warmth of your hands on his face and the warmth radiating off the close proximity of your body.

Since you didn't get an answer straight away, you gently swiped your thumb in the area just under his eyes like he did for you, on both sides, one at a time. He blinked a couple of times, the grip on your wrists loosening further as it fell down between his legs.

When you ran your fingers through his hair as a makeshift comb, he closed his eyes, basking in the affection you gave him, calming his tumultuous heart.

"Thank you..." His words were quiet, all too quiet that it seemed like you were the only one who he spoke to, in the bubble of the two of you, "For coming with me on that mission."

You hummed lightly as you continued to thread your hands through his hair, giving him a light head massage here and there as he struggled to find the words to convey his thoughts to you.

"I wavered." It was a statement, a statement that had many emotions in it, spoken to himself more than to you. It made you pause your movements, the raw feeling of his words sinking into you as you waited for him to continue, along with your massage.

"After Riko's death, those non-sorcerers, those monkeys, I can still hear them clapping, applauding her death." Suguru lets out a breathy sigh at the end, finally letting out his thoughts. "I used to believe the strong exists to protect the weak. But now...what about the strong? The strong are dying because of these non-sorcerers, because they aren't able to control their cursed energy, and they create curses that cause our deaths. There's no end."

"Being a Jujutsu sorcerer is a marathon race. What if...at the end, it's just a pile of our corpses? Our friends' corpses?" Suguru opened his eyes again, holding a sadness in his eyes he wasn't able to show until now.

You put your hands back on his cheeks. "Do you still believe the strong exists to protect the weak?"

You weren't able to answer this marathon race question. It was impossible to. Whatever answer you had, it would be negative. And you didn't want to dampen his spirits with something he already knew, deep inside him.

It was silent before he finally replied, "I don't know."

"The strong protect the weak. That was your philosophy, wasn't it?" A pause, "It's also what makes the strong, strong. You know, if there weren't any 'weak' people, you wouldn't even be considered 'strong', you know."

"As someone who's been saved by the strong and now becoming stronger because of them, I will hold that in my heart forever. Those non-sorcerers and sorcerers you've saved, Sugu, will remember you as their saviour."

Suguru's lips parted, but he closed them again, waiting for you to continue. He didn't know what to say.

"If you decide you don't want to protect non-sorcerers anymore and you look down on them, and it's the alternative to saving non-sorcerers because they're weak, then..." Your forehead presses on his as you close your eyes, "I'll let you go."

Suguru's throat became dry. He wanted to badly to say that he wasn't going to leave, but he couldn't deny the feelings he had when it came to whichever road he would pick.

"But, if you do end up hating non-sorcerers, you'll become one of those corpses you didn't want to see. And as a fellow sorcerer, I'd hate for that to happen." You lean down and move to hug him to your smaller body, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

"Non-sorcerers are weak, yes, but they can also be strong. Not strong enough to kill curses, but strong in other aspects. Strength is not equal to pulverising curses." You gently pet the back of his head, "Riko was strong, wasn't she? She's not a bad non-sorcerer. She was almost like a friend to you, wasn't she?"

Suguru's arms wrap around your mid section, grabbing onto the back of your shirt like life support. "...yes." He managed to whisper.

"There's good and bad in everyone, Sugu, regardless of if they're sorcerers or not. If you're worried about the sorcerers in the world, wouldn't it be best to fix it at its core rather than to to just kill them all?"

Suguru didn't respond. He already had his answer.

You felt a wetness on your neck as his body shook, sobs ripping through his body as relief filled his veins at your words. You hummed, gently patting his back as he cried.

You knew, Suguru was a soft person inside. No matter how troublesome he and Satoru can become when they're together, Suguru was undoubtedly the softer one. Satoru also had a soft heart, but he had walls and walls around so it wasn't easily penetrated. Whereas for Suguru, the environment he's in affects him easier, and the suffering of others will easily shake him. Especially with his job as a sorcerer, it was even harder since it was a job with an abundance of negative energy.

You must've stayed like this for a while, and you felt him move to face you, his face still in your neck. You could feel his exhales on your skin, a soft hum from him as he murmured an apology to you into your skin.

"You okay there, Sugu?" You leaned your head on his, nuzzling a little.

He let go of the back of your shirt, and instead grabbed your waist and under your legs, bringing you to his lap as you yelped in surprise at the sudden lightweightedness.

"Sorry, it's easier this way." He adjusted you so you were directly in front of him, your legs to the side on the bed. His arms encased you as he hugged you tighter than before, not wanting to let go. He wanted to feel your pulse and heartbeat, to know you're present and there with him.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck again, his eyes closing as he tried to burrow impossibly closer, just like you're his lifeline.

You didn't mind since occasionally he would do this, but as of now, this was the most intimate he had become with you, and it was making your heartbeat speed up.

You tried to calm yourself as you continued to pat his back and smooth the back of his hair, chin on his shoulder as you leaned your head on his.

"Your heart's racing." You felt his lips curl into a smile, "You like this?"

Slightly annoyed by his teasing during such a tender moment, especially for him, the next pat was a lot harsher than the rest of them. You pouted as he chuckled into your skin, loosening his grip. He kept one arm around you as he wiped any tears with his sleeve, gently patting the areas on you he made damp.

You noticed he looked a lot better. A lot lighter, even. Even though he was crying, whatever was weighing him down seemed to have lessened or disappeared, like it was never there in the first place. It was like the Suguru pre star plasma vessel mission had returned.

You unknowingly held your breath, wondering if the Suguru in front of you would go back to the one who was conflicted.

"Do I have something on my face?" Suguru could feel your intense gaze on him the whole time, and he felt like he was under a microscope at how strong your gaze was.

He suddenly became self-conscious; did he look that bad after crying?

"You're back." You stated, almost incredulously.

At the tip of his tongue, he wanted to ask 'I'm back?', but he realised, you meant him. You meant the him from before Riko, the him before he started spiralling. The him who had a strong resolve and foundation.

"I've always been here." He gave you a little smile, the smile sincerely reaching his eyes as he gave you a little forehead bump.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at such a gentle motion, not unnoticed by him.

"You blush at this but not the hugging before?" He stared at you like you were the strangest thing on this earth, but the mirth was clearly dancing around his purple eyes, making you hit him lightly in the chest, giving him an unimpressed look.

"Welcome back, I guess." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but you were glad he was back.

"So what's this about a house arrest for you?" Suddenly, you remembered you'd come to deliver the news to him after your meeting with the elders.

"Ah, yeah, so I'm under house arrest! For 1 week! They told me to not leave the school and if I do, they're gonna do something." You tried to recall the information, but all you had in your head was Suguru, Suguru and more Suguru.

You blinked once, twice, thrice, but you couldn't remember shit all. "Maybe I should get 'toru to bail me out if I get in trouble. He can threaten them easily."

"...why not me?" Suguru gave his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, making your brows raise at him for the effort.

"Nice try," You pinch his cheeks, trying to stop the smile from pulling your lips upwards, "I don't want you going alone, so go with 'toru if you want to. Double trouble from the two strongest sorcerers, right?" You finally give him a grin as he held a baffled look.

Then, he laughed.

The sound was like a melody to your ears, one which was so genuine and heartfelt, one you hadn't heard in so long. It moved you.

"I'll do that, then. Does that mean you have to stay here the whole time?"

"Nah, as long as I'm in Tengen's barrier."

"That's a pretty good holiday for you."

"I know right?"

"You've worked hard enough so I think you deserve some rest."

The chatter continued until the night, until you fell asleep on him from how tiring the whole day was. Geto cradled you close, like you were made of glass (not that he wasn't hugging you like his lifeline before). Instead of caressing your cheek like he was used to, this time, he mustered up some courage, gave a quick peck on your cheek, then nuzzled your cheeks together as he stood up and got you into your bed.

As he tucked you in, he gently pushed the stray hairs out of your face, his finger caressing your cheek ever so gently.

"...thank you, [name]." He spoke so, so softly he barely heard his own voice, a calm and gentle smile on his face as he reluctantly left. He was going to hop into bed next to you to sleep as well, but he figured he should clean up first before doing so.

Turns out, Suguru didn't have any missions in the same week you were under house arrest.

You were still sleeping even after Suguru tried to wake you up in the morning, so he just left you there so you could rest. After all, you probably needed some extra time since you worked so hard for him.

"I'm surprised I don't have any missions this week." The martial artist sat down with a cup of tea.

"Wonder why that is?" Shoko had shrugged off the question, eating together with the curse manipulation user in the common area.

She already knew why that was, since she heard it all from you, but she wasn't going to tell Suguru so easily.

"[name] probably complained to the elders." Suguru stated with a laugh. He could see it happening, with you giving them attitude until you got what you want. Almost like a kid trowing a tantrum.

Shoko let out a hum as she agreed. There was a little more to the story, but he didn't need to know yet.

They were so worried about you they actually begged the elders this time. Probably the first time they've begged them, so they allowed it with one condition: [name] had to do whatever they wanted for a week after their house arrest.

But Suguru didn't need to know that, at least, until [name] told him, which they probably didn't want to do.

Seeing Shoko's nonchalant personality was normal, but for Suguru he felt like there was definitely something she knew. After all, [name] was at Shoko's before they came back to their room yesterday. And knowing the elders and from what [name]'s said about them, Suguru assumed there would be some form of condition.

Seeing he wasn't convinced, Shoko decided she was going to allude to it a little, since [name] probably wasn't going to say anything.

To speed up the process, was Shoko's determining factor.

"I think they're going to be quite busy after their week off. My spider senses are telling me this." She joked, leaning back on the chair.

Suguru thought for a moment, "So the elders are going to force [name] to go on difficult missions."

Shoko shrugged, taking out a cigarette and placing it between her lips. She didn't light it inside, but it didn't feel right without it. "Aren't they already doing that?"

Geto didn't give a response, thinking what the elders would do especially since [name] was involved. From his observations, they were much more strict on you than they were on anybody else. Satoru could get away with things because he was one of the strongest and could actually end them and everything else, but you on the other hand, were not able to do that and effectively just danced in the palm of their hands trying to bite your way out.

He let out a low hum in thought. If he was granted no missions during this time and you were under house arrest, but Shoko alluded to you being busy the next week even after knowing you'll be taking up missions just like usual, that effectively means something was up. Was there another variable he wasn't sure about? Did you have something to do with him having no missions right now?

"Shoko, why not just tell me [name] had a deal with the elders?" He let out a sigh at the roundabout way of getting to the answer. "I'm guessing they agreed to do whatever the elders asked for, for 1 week, right? In exchange for giving me a break and going on that mission even after getting told not to."

"Bingo." Shoko made finger guns at his correct answer. She definitely didn't tell him, he just figured it out on his own, she tells herself.

Suguru's lips pressed into a thin line, wondering what the elders had planned. After all, you were a semi grade-1 sorcerer, but you kept getting pushed into missions which were grade 1 or higher, somehow managing to always come back alive even after facing a grade 1 curse.

Which is why the elders were always assigning you to go on difficult missions.

"You know, the girls you brought back, Mimiko and Nanako, are doing well. They've been put into a foster home associated with Jujutsu High, so you'll be able to see them if you want." Shoko forgot to give him this piece of information.

"That's good to hear." He smiled, now knowing the girls were doing well. It brought him back to the day prior, where he was so, so close to losing it and choosing another path. "I'm sure [name] would like to see them too."

Shoko shifted in her seat when she heard your name from his lips this time, finding it was different to earlier. It was softer? She couldn't quite put her finger to it, but it was like his soft spot for you was even softer than before, if that could even be a thing.

"You sound like a lovesick fool." Shoko commented with a non-commited laugh. She was just teasing, but she was also curious.

Suguru rolled his eyes at her, taking a sip of his tea. "They saved them too. Of course they'd want to see them."

He didn't agree nor deny, making Shoko raise her brows in surprise.

"I heard my name." You yawned as you entered the common area, still in the clothes you wore yesterday.

"Looks like you slept well." Geto examined your hair, which stuck up in some places, a smile on his face at the scene.

You hummed in response, giving a wave to both of them before sauntering over to the kitchenette to make yourself a glass of warm water, uncaring of the eyes trailing after you.

Shoko's gaze landed on Suguru, watching him watch you.

His gaze on you was definitely different. She definitely wasn't seeing things. She swore it was softer than before. The way his expression changed to a more relaxed one the minute you came into the picture, the way his shoulders relaxed when he talked to you, the tone of his voice shifting spectacularly to include an affectionate tilt, all of it was presented right in from of Shoko, who had known Suguru for a while, so she could tell these differences easily.

Wow, damn. He's down bad.

She smirked to herself, wanting so badly to tell Satoru of Suguru's little crush.

Except, both of them would probably deny it to the ends of the earth.

You slip into the seat next to Geto, eyes half open as you slowly blinked away your sleepiness, drinking the water here and there. Suguru laughed lightly at your state, scooting a little closer to detangle your hair with his fingers, running his hands through your hair to fix it.

Shoko's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, watching this blatant public display of affection. She was used to Suguru being a little touchy with [name] and expressing it here and there, but this was a new high. It made her sip the coffee she'd forgotten she had on the side, not sure if she should be there to experience such a thing.

You hummed in content, "Thanks Sugu."

"Should've brushed your hair before coming out." He gently chided, taking a sip of his tea.

"Probably should've changed, too..." You yawn again, taking another sip of water. "But yeah, I'd like to see the kids too, Shoko, when they're ready and all healed up."

Shoko, having been distracted for a moment, returned to her nonchalant self as she grinned, promising to let both of you know when that was possible.

The week of house arrest was a blessing for you, especially before the files for the missions you were undertaking were handed to you by a Window.

There were 2 missions you were asked to undertake - a grade 1 solo mission, and then a special grade one with Satoru.

A special grade with Satoru? If you didn't already feel alarmed, you were definitely feeling alarmed now. Hell, if Satoru is on any missions, it meant that there was serious harm that could be done.

You flipped through the papers wordlessly, your expression changing here and there before going back to normal.

These were the two missions asked by the elders, the ones who you were to obey for the week.

There can't be anything good here, you thought, going through the documents a second time to remember the information.

"Are you going on a mission soon?" Suguru suddenly appeared out of nowhere, nearly making you jump in surprise. His face was right next to yours, overlooking your shoulders to peer at the documents.

"Yeah, these two are for next week. One solo, one with 'toru." You showed him the front pages of each and the basic information.

He let out a low hum in response and pulled back, plucking the papers with him to sift through them.

He already knew they were missions the elders specifically picked out for you, but for one with Satoru? He was sure something was up there.

Of course, you didn't know he knew about your little deal with the elders, and he didn't plan on telling you he knew. Instead, he just showed up wherever you were because he wanted to be near you. And, who knows, the elders might have something planned so he wanted to know you were safe.

"It's too bad I have my own missions to go to. Otherwise I'd have gone with you." He handed you back the papers, seeing your confused expression.

"I'm sure the elders would love that." You spoke sarcastically, but laughed all the same. It would've been great to go on missions with Suguru, just like not too long ago. "Maybe we'll go on missions together soon!"

"I'd like that."

He'll pretend he didn't see the big red words on the special grade mission with Satoru, one which spelled out '2 special grades'.

"So, apparently there are 2 special grades." Satoru ate a crepe filled to the brim with toppings, walking side by side with you as you both headed to the site of the mission.

He'd come back a day or so ago and didn't even bother looking through the documents, leaving it to you since you had them before him. Also because he was strong and he didn't care enough; he would've beaten them regardless.

"Which is why I have no idea why I'm here." You muttered, sighing. You snack on your on crepe, much more simple than his, wondering why in the earth the elders wanted to put you on such a mission. You were semi grade 1, for fuck's sake! Just because you survived a special grade and grade 1 mission before doesn't necessarily mean you'll survive the next ones?!

Satoru glanced at you and took a large chomp of his crepe, munching gleefully. Once he finished that bite, he said, "They should've sent Suguru with me if anything."

"I know right? Special grades against special grades, not special grade and semi grade 1 versus 2 special grades. Are they telling me to die?" You let out an exasperated sigh.

"They're probably planning something." Satoru and you both knew how much they were assholes, but cunning was also a word that could be used to describe them.

He left out the part about how he knew you did this for Suguru, and all the nitty gritty details Shoko filled him in about after he came back from the mission prior. He also left out the information only he has access to, one which was more in line with the ability you had, that the elders were convinced you were able to awaken at a later stage.

After all, if you could unlock your cursed energy output channels so abruptly and have so much CE, there was bound to be some locked potential there, right?

Which is why you were put onto this mission to assist Satoru.

"Let's just get this over and done with." You finished the rest of your crepe, downing some bitter green tea before heading to the Windows waiting at the site.

Satoru followed you, feeling the CE ooze strongly from the site.

This will be interesting.

A couple of nights after you and Satoru went on the mission, Suguru began to get worried. He shouldn't be worried about you since you were with the Gojo heir, but he couldn't shake the feeling something happened to you.

It was when he woke up from a nightmare of you dying in his arms that he feels his stomach drop, and cold sweat run down his face and body.

The feeling was unmistakenably so humane, so real that it fucked his head in. He sat up in bed for a moment, feeling your side of the bed before finding it cold and empty. He started to panic, wondering if the dream was indeed real, but then he realised you were still on a mission, and it's been a couple of days since you went. He sighed to himself, slipping out of the covers to go cool down.

When he opened the door, he saw the light at the end of the hallway was open, the one belonging to the common room.

He didn't know what time it was, but it definitely wasn't a time to be up. But, he still went, curious about who was up this late.

"Satoru?" He questioned, seeing the white haired man in question sprawled out on the couch. "You two finished the mission?"

"Yeah." Gojo leaned back, turning his head to meet Suguru's tired ones. "Can't sleep?"

"Had a nightmare."

"Yikes."

"Where's [name]?"

"Getting examined by Shoko."

"What happened to them?" Suguru didn't want to sound too panicked, but Satoru could see through him right away.

"[name]'s fine. Maybe super tired now since they activated their curse technique for the first time."

"Cursed technique?" Suguru echoed. From what he knew, you didn't have a CT.

"Yeah." Satoru leaned on one side, crossing his legs as he faced Suguru. "Nullfication. Can cancel anything with cursed energy within a radius of 2 metres. Curses die just being in contact with it, but depends on grade."

"Isn't that an extremely rare ability?" Geto had to get himself something to drink, he was parched. He also made one for Satoru as well, knowing he'd want one too after the mission.

"Yeah. It bypassed my infinity." Satoru made an expression as he clicked his tongue, "But then my infinity worked again. Was the first time something like this happened."

Suguru couldn't help but let his jaw drop. "Is that even possible?"

Satoru frowned, taking the cup from Suguru and taking a drink. "I don't know, but the CT uses CE to maintain it. Still trying to figure out how it works."

Suguru breathed out in relief, "Wow."

"Not a moment to be celebrating, Suguru." Satoru clicked his tongue at him again, "I think this was exactly what the elders wanted."

Suguru backtracked for a moment - he knew the elders wanted something, but this? He didn't expect them to look at [name] and go 'this one will have a CT manifested'. Usually CT are manifested at an earlier age, so for you to awaken one so much later was a miracle in itself.

"Back then, and now, too." Gojo let out an exasperated sigh. "Those old bastards."

Suguru finished off his drink, "I'm going to go see them."

"Oh, ok." Satoru saw Suguru's expression, it did hold worry, but it was more contemplative due to the situation around it. He quickly finished off his drink and followed his best friend.

Suguru breathed a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding when he saw you getting a check up from Shoko. You looked tired, but you were still alive and kicking.

"Sugu? Why are you awake? It's 3am." You raise a brow, then quickly realised Shoko was up too because of you and apologised with a little bow.

"I couldn't sleep." He strode to where you were. The tension in his body was replaced with relief as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He nuzzled into your hair, even if it was dirty from the mission.

"Sugu? I haven't cleaned up, you know." You let out a laugh as you let him do his thing, giving him a light hug back and some pats on the back.

Satoru made an expression, almost pouty, before he also came over and enveloped both you and Suguru into a hug. "I don't know what's going on but I'll hug you too. Shoko, come!" He dragged her by the arm so everyone was in a hug, much to your delight.

It's been a while since there was a group hug.

"If the elders say anything, drop my name and I'll come kill them." Satoru murmured, ready to throw hands. He nuzzled his face into the top of your head, ignoring how his hair tickled Suguru and Shoko's noses.

"If you do that, let me examine their dead bodies." Shoko joked.

"If there are any difficult missions, bring me or Satoru along." Suguru scrunched his nose as he delved deeper, leaning his body weight on you ever so slightly.

"Guys, I think I'll pass out..." You tapped at their arms, not having enough strength to pull them off.

Not even a minute passed and you were tucked into your bed, the other three shoved into your bed with you, hugging at least one part of your body as they drifted off into sleep.

You were facing Suguru, who hadn't slept yet, but was waiting for you to close your eyes and rest.

"Sugu, let's visit the kids soon, ok?" You yawned, closing your eyes, "Goodnight."

He moved slightly to bump his forehead to yours, moving back when a small smile curled your lips. He was ready to sleep now, and he didn't think he'd have anymore nightmares.

"Let's do that. Goodnight."

A/N: This is almost a little prequel to this angsty one, but can be a fluffy-ish angsty-ish standalone as well!

Fun fact, after Suguru cried his eyes out, his eyes were puffy for the first day of this break, and you and Shoko gave him so much shit for it.

[bobohu4eva]

Ecstasy

Part 6 - Cry for Love

Genre: Soloist!Baekhyun x Reader, angst, fluff, smut 18+ audiences only MDNI

WC: 5.7k

Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato23-blog @baekyeonoreo

Warnings for this chapter: smut (non explicit), alcohol consumption, drug use

Masterlist

Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

“You’re a dumbass, you know that right?” 

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. I know I fucked up. I don’t even know what to say to her anymore.”

Chanyeol let out a long sigh, trying to muster up some sympathy for his friend's predicament, but finding it quite difficult. He’d seen it coming, more or less. Something terrible was bound to happen with how reckless Baekhyun was being. He took a sip of his beer before setting it back down on the bar, doing his best to at least look sorry for his friend when he glanced back at him. 

“You’ve tried calling her right?”

“No, well not since that day at least. I don’t know if I should. Her friend told me not to, and I get it. But I really do want to see her again, and apologize.” 

The whole time Baekhyun stared, seemingly into nothingness. He hated how much he missed her, even after only a few days. 

“You should at least call to apologize, you owe her that much.”

“What if she doesn’t want to hear from me at all? I don’t want to make things even worse.” 

“Just call. The worst she can do is not pick up.” 

“And if she does? What would I even say?”

“The truth.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“You don’t say.” 

Baekhyun chugged down his drink, getting the bartender's attention and ordering another round. He was already drunk, but it still wasn’t enough to erase what he felt. 

“Why did you freak out so bad? I mean she told you she didn’t mean it. I know acid is one hell of a drug but jesus. You were way too goddamn harsh.” 

“I almost said it back.” He responded, staring blankly at the counter before him. 

Chanyeol's eyes went wide. 

“I was so upset that that even crossed my mind. And if I had said it, who fucking knows what would’ve happened.”

“Well, do you?” 

Baekhyun just glared at him, refusing to say anything. 

“You clearly care about her a lot, I don’t know why you can’t just admit that. I think she could be really good for you, if you just got over your own bullshit.”

Baekhyun leaned forward until his forehead was on the bar, both hands on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember ever resenting himself so deeply, and that was saying something. 

Chanyeol was right, and they both knew it. 

The guilt made it hard to do anything more than drink himself into numbness. He'd probably ruined any chance he had at something real with her, even if that in itself also made him uncomfortable. As much as he wanted to try and fix things, he knew deep down that he'd probably just end up hurting her again anyway. In the end though, the side of him that still wanted her was much stronger, and far less rational.

Every time he thought about that day, and how she must've felt after he kicked her out of his apartment, his chest would get tight, the dread quickly becoming more than he could handle. He’d had an awful time himself, the trip turning downright terrifying, and he’d been inside his own apartment the whole time. Outside, alone, she must’ve felt she was in a living nightmare. He was disgusted with himself, with how cruel he’d become, and all because of a few words that she didn’t even mean. 

Eventually he decided that it would be worse not to say anything. Even if she didn’t want to hear from him, he had to at least try to tell her how sorry he was, otherwise the guilt would keep chipping away at his sanity until it consumed him whole. 

It took a while for him to get to the point where he actually had the strength to pick up the phone and pull up her contact. Even then, he just sat in his apartment, staring at his phone, debating with himself. He wasn’t sure what made him more nervous, the idea of talking to her after he’d fucked up so badly, or the very real possibility that she would simply decline the call all together. Losing her completely was more terrifying than he was willing to admit to himself. 

Finally, he called. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest as he listened to it ring, trying to take deep breaths to calm himself with little success. When she picked up, his heart nearly stopped. He tried to say something, but his voice failed him.

“Baekhyun?” 

“Hi.” He eventually managed to get out, painfully aware of how stupid he sounded. He took another deep breath, finally gathering himself a bit before continuing. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

She didn’t say anything. She could hear the lack of consistency in his voice. 

“I don’t know what to say, I’m just so fucking sorry. I know I fucked up.” 

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you kick me out?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He heard her sigh in disappointment. It was a lie of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. 

“Look, I appreciate the apology, but I really don’t want to do this over the phone. If you have anything you need to say to me, I’d rather hear it in person.” 

She hung up before he could respond, and he wasted no time getting into his car to drive to her place. 

Her pain had been unbearable. Even after several days sober his harshness stayed with her, bringing with it a constant dull ache in her chest. She barely ate or slept, but knowing that he at least seemed to feel bad about what he’d done gave her a bit of relief.

Despite Suhyun’s insistence that she cut him off completely, she’d still been waiting, hoping to hear something. She wanted an apology, an explanation, something that would help her feel a bit better, and she wanted him to look her in the eyes as he said it.

The knock on her door, not even 30 minutes after hanging up the phone, came as a shock. 

On the other side, Baekhyun worried he might actually pass out. He assumed that she would tell him how awful he was and then send him right back home, and he thought he was mentally prepared for that, but once he was actually there he realized how wrong he’d been. The ground seemed to sway beneath him, his stomach twisting, threatening to expel the lunch he'd just had. 

The door swung open and they met eyes, Baekhyun bracing himself for the worst.

She let him in, and his expression was something she’d never seen before. His eyes were glassy, the anxiety behind them clear as day. She could see the nervous tension in the way he fidgeted, hands clammy, heart racing. 

His eyes squeezed shut, and he mustered up all the courage he could, though still feeling utterly pitiful.

“I know you probably hate me and never want to see me again, but I need you to know how awful I feel about what I did. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am.” He eventually said, barely keeping it together. 

To his shock, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Tears soon dampened her forehead, feeling the quiet tremors of his chest as he fell apart. He held her close, cradling her against his chest, the closeness allowing his body to fully relax for the first time in nearly a week. Somehow though, he felt even guiltier than if she’d told him off, at least he would've deserved that.

 As hurt as she might’ve been, she’d still missed him. That day, before everything went downhill, he'd shown her a kind of happiness she hadn’t even known was possible. And even before that, when she was with him, the good moments were so powerful that they easily overshadowed all the bad. Nobody else had ever made her feel that before. 

She didn’t want whatever they had to end, even though she knew logically that it would be idiotic to forgive him after he’d been so cruel. She cared about him too much, she was too attached, she still wanted him despite it all, and that was probably the worst part. Despite how terrible he'd made her feel that day, the potential for good was still there. The good times she'd had with him were some of the best of her life, and giving that up wasn't easy. For her, it was impossible. The highs were so high, that the lows were somehow still worth dealing with. 

It didn’t make sense, he'd been absolutely certain that she'd be furious. 

“How do you not hate me right now? Are you really not mad at me?” 

She looked up at him, one hand coming to cup his damp cheek, tears of her own coming to mirror his. It was strange to see him of all people cry, but oddly comforting, too. It told her just how much he regretted what he’d done, that he cared, that he hated how badly he’d hurt her. He’d never shown that sort of vulnerability before, the cool facade he usually put on, now completely shattered. It gave her the reassurance she'd been craving so badly. Maybe forgiving him wouldn't be so dumb after all, since he'd hopefully never hurt her like that again. 

“I don’t hate you. I’m just glad you’re sorry, I was so worried that you were still mad at me, since I didn’t hear from you. I thought I ruined everything.” 

He quickly shook his head. “Of course I’m not mad at you, if anyone ruined anything it was me. I never had a right to be angry with you in the first place, I was being completely awful and irrational.” 

She couldn’t help the small smile that crept its way onto her lips, finally assured that he didn’t harbor any resentment towards her for what she’d said, that he felt genuine remorse. 

“I was afraid to call after that day because I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear from me, or if it would be best to just leave you alone. Your friend told me not to contact you, and I can see where she’s coming from.”

“When did you talk to my friend?”

“I called you later that day. Once I snapped out of my own bullshit I realized how unsafe it was for you to be outside alone like that and I wanted to make sure you were okay, and apologize. She answered and told me not to contact you anymore, that I’ve fucked up your life enough already, and she’s probably right about that.” 

“She never even mentioned that you called.” She pouted, making a mental note to call Suhyun out next time they met up. 

“I’m glad she was there. I was so scared something happened to you, at least when she picked up I knew you were safe.” 

“You know, I might not hate you, but I am still mad at you. I wish you could at least tell me why you reacted like that.” 

As forgiving as she was, the awfulness of that day was impossible to forget. The drug caused her fear and confusion to materialize in everything she saw, victimizing her until the high eventually faded, and the horror of it stuck with her. That was something she couldn't let go so easily.

He ran one hand through his hair, and when he didn’t answer right away she pulled him along with her to sit down on the couch. 

“I wish I could explain it to you, something in me just.. snapped. There’s a reason I don’t do relationships, that kind of stuff, it fucks with my head.” 

She swallowed, painfully reminded of that hard truth. “Why?” 

He shook his head, if he tried to explain everything they’d probably be there all day, and she’d never be able to see him the same way again. He wouldn’t be able to get it all out without more tears, either. That was a can of worms he just couldn’t get into.

“You should’ve taken it as a compliment you know, you fucked me so good I thought I was in love with you.” 

He forced a smile, but even that caused something unpleasant to twist up inside him. 

“If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just tell me and I’ll do it.” 

She shrugged. It was clear that he'd never be able to give her what she really wanted anyway. 

Still, at least he cared for her. He wouldn't have gotten so emotional if she didn't mean something to him. 

“Are you busy today?” He asked. 

“Not really, no.” 

“I could order us something to eat, or we could go somewhere, whatever you want. I just- I missed you.” 

‘I missed you.’

Even if it would be short lived, she wanted to enjoy the new sensitivity he was finally showing her, so she agreed. 

They stayed at her place, ordering in and opening up a bottle of wine. It wasn’t long at all until they both settled comfortably into the couch, still more relieved than anything. She’d missed him just as much. 

She’d grown used to the confident, wild, sexy side of him, but now, something about him felt fundamentally different. Maybe it was the fact that she’d seen him cry, but whatever it was, it felt warmer, softer, a side of him she knew very few people got to see. 

They spent hours on her couch together in comfortable silence, the show on the TV long forgotten as they kissed and held each other. She’d laid herself atop his chest, one hand landing on her waist, and the other at the nape of her neck, keeping her lips glued to his own. 

His touch was gentle, enjoying the warmth and softness of her skin after having missed her so much. The path his hands took across her back, shoulders, and neck full of adoration. He never ventured any further, because it didn't feel appropriate, he didn't want her to think that he'd only come back for sex. Just getting to kiss and touch her again already felt like a small miracle. 

However that didn't stop his body from reacting to her, now that she lay flush to his chest between his parted legs. As she deepened the kisses her body sunk into him even further, and she felt the line of hardness beneath his sweats. When she rocked her pelvis into him, he let out a groan, hands holding firmly onto her hips.

“Fuck, don't do that.” 

Their eyes met, and she pouted at him, “Why not?”

“I don't think this is a good idea, I came over here to apologize, not try to get you to sleep with me again.” 

As he spoke her lips attached themselves to his neck, leaving a path of soft kisses from his jaw down to the collar of his shirt. “And if I want to anyway?” 

She pulled his shirt down a bit and sucked on the skin of his collarbone, eliciting another moan. 

“You're sure about this?” 

“You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” 

Part of her was skeptical, too, but as always, her desire for him overpowered any trace of caution. His touch, his voice, it all drew her in beyond the bounds of reason. She just wanted to feel close to him. Laying there together innocently had been nice, but she inevitably slipped into more troublesome desires. 

Baekhyun didn't respond, instead, his hands finally slid beneath the threshold of her clothes. The warmth of her skin beneath his hands caused him to sigh. He, too, had missed this.  

The sex felt like an apology. Where he’d been hungry, even desperate, in the past, he now took his time. It wasn’t one night stand sex, or even meaningless fling sex. It was the kind of sex that happens when two people know and care about each other. She let him set the pace, and he decided to be slow and intentional, he set that tone. The praises that passed his lips lost their teasing edge, his gratitude stronger than his usual desire to frustrate her.  More than anything he wanted to savor this, to show her his devotion the only way he knew how. 

Several orgasms later, they both collapsed into a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs on her couch. Baekhyun still refused to let go, keeping her in his arms for as long as she would allow, which turned out to be a good long while, much to his delight. 

Baekhyun hadn’t intended to spend the entire day with her in such a way, he was just so relieved that she didn’t hate him. Somehow his head ended up on her lap, and when she began to play with his hair, a satisfied sigh left him. He'd always loved the feeling, and how easily it would relax him. 

Several sleepless nights had left him exhausted, and as her hands stayed in his hair, he drifted off to sleep, resting more peacefully than he had in a long time. 

His sleeping face brought a smile to her own. She didn’t move, letting him use her as a pillow and nap through the afternoon. Every once in a while she would notice a change in his expression, brows knit in what seemed like distress, and she wondered what he could be dreaming about. So much of his mind was still a mystery to her, one that she desperately wanted to solve. 

When he eventually woke back up it was already dark outside, and he figured it was time to head home. He didn't want to leave, and even thought about asking her to let him spend the night, but after everything it just didn't feel right. He didn't want to overstay his welcome. 

“Has anyone talked to you about the anniversary party yet?” He asked as he got his things together. 

She shook her head. 

“It’s a fairly big thing the company does every year, it’s mostly for artists and higher ups, and I know I’m going, so I was wondering if you wanted to come as my date?” 

‘Date’

That one word was so unexpected coming from him, she found herself momentarily frozen. 

“Uh.. sure, yeah. When is it?”

He told her the details, and she still couldn't shake the implications of that one word. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she wondered if maybe he was finally ready to at least hint at something more serious between them. 

The day of he picked her up as usual, noticing the fitted suit he wore as she got into his car. She knew it was a rather formal affair, but he looked so handsome, she still became a little nervous. 

“You look beautiful,” He murmured, looking her up and down before leaning in for a quick kiss. 

The event was held in the largest ballroom of a luxury hotel full of opulent decorations, and even had a gorgeous outdoor area lit up for the approaching holidays. She'd worn one of her favorite dresses, but even so, she felt a little silly walking in together, arm in arm with him. The guest list was full of a-list celebrities, both from their company, as well as some others, along with various executives. She felt all the familiar uncertainties from the first night she'd met him rush back. 

He must've sensed how tense she became, squeezing her hand and giving her a reassuring smile. The softness of it had her leaning further into him. 

She looked up at him, his profile outlined by the lights of the party, and she remembered just who she was there with. And not only that, but he'd said it himself, she was his date. 

It emboldened her, knowing that no matter Baekhyun's history or reputation, she was the one on his arm, and the one he’d be going home with after. 

They headed towards the bar for a drink, and she still remained quiet, too deep in thought to get anything out.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” He told her, “let's just try to have a good time, yeah?” 

He pulled out a chair for her and they took a seat, each ordering their first round of the night. Baekhyun did his best to lighten the mood, complimenting her, joking around and flirting all in an attempt to see her smile. And it worked for the most part, though the constant interruptions always pulled her right back into her insecurities.

Every few minutes someone would come up to him, and he would talk to them as if she wasn't even there. By the third time, she started to wonder why she'd been invited at all. 

She'd been zoning out, staring at the array of bottles behind the bar when she heard her name. When she looked up, she saw a familiar face. 

Joohyun. The same woman he'd ditched her for at Chanyeol’s birthday. 

Baekhyun had introduced her, and Joohyun raised an eyebrow at the sight of them. 

“You're here together?” Joohyun asked, a glimpse of something sinister in her eyes. Her face, beautiful as she was, did little to hide the ugliness apparent underneath. 

She started to nod but Baekhyun spoke up first. “We're just friends.” 

Joohyun smirked, letting her hand rest on his shoulder. “Well, it's always good to see you.” 

She turned to walk away, and as Baekhyun looked back at his date, it became apparent how pissed she was. 

She chugged down the rest of her drink, slamming the glass down on the bar and getting up. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, following her. 

“Really _____?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I can see you're mad, don't you think you're being a little dramatic?” 

“I thought I was your date! We sure as hell aren't just friends, and for you to say that to her of all people? After what happened on Chanyeol’s birthday? Really?” 

“What else would we be if not friends, hm? As far as I'm concerned we are just friends.” 

“I know you care about me as more than a friend” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, a bitter look overtaking his face. “Do I?” 

She scoffed, “You're unbelievable.” 

With that she turned, walking away but he took hold of her wrist, pulling her back towards him. “Where do you think you're going?” 

“Home. I don't want to be here anymore.” 

“No the fuck you're not.” 

“Baekhyun, let go of me.”

He didn’t. “You’re being ridiculous.” 

“No. I’m sick of you being hot and cold with me. You don’t get to treat me like that.” 

His grip on her gave way, but she didn’t leave yet. His lips pressed together as his eyes squeezed shut, a heavy sigh leaving him. 

“Okay. I get it. But please, stay. You don't have to talk to me. Just let me take you home later.” 

“Take me home with you? Seriously?” 

“It doesn’t have to be with me. I can just drop you off.” 

She glared at him, almost scoffing again, but decided to just turn and walk away. When he took hold of her arm again, she glared. “If I’m staying, you could at least let me get another drink.” 

He watched her sit down by herself, ordering something that looked strong. 

As she sipped on her drink, she scanned the room, hoping she'd at least recognize someone. She'd almost given up, accepting that she'd probably end up drinking alone until Baekhyun was ready to go, but then she felt a tap on her shoulder. 

Chanyoel’s smile was a welcome sight, as he sat himself down next to her at the bar. 

“Hi! How are you? Are you here with Baekhyun?” He asked. 

“Hi, yeah. Unfortunately.” 

“Why's that unfortunate?” 

She shook her head, “You were right about him, I fear.” 

Chanyeol hummed in acknowledgment, it wasn't hard for him to imagine what could be going on. 

“He's being an ass?” 

“Yeah. I just don't get it. One day he's being really sweet, and then he turns around and acts like that was all bullshit. I'm tired of it. I wanted to go home, but for some reason he wants me to stay.” 

“So? You can still leave. Who cares what he wants.” 

She took a long sip of her drink. 

“I don't want to make him mad.” 

Chanyeol looked a bit confused, but still nodded. “Well, I'm here if you want company. It's a great party, it would be a shame to spend the whole night sulking at the bar.” 

“Thank you.” 

Soon his drink arrived, and he clinked the glass against hers. 

Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen as the two made light conversation, and she was grateful to take her mind off him for a bit. 

Chanyeol, now a bit tipsy, and knowing well that she wasn't pleased with his friend, seized the opportunity. He wasn't usually much of a flirt, but with her it came easily. 

His compliments cheered her up enough that eventually even his dumb jokes brought a smile to her face. When both drinks were gone and he asked her to dance, she gladly accepted. 

They stood, but he pulled her aside before they could make it to the dance floor. Now that they had a bit more privacy, he pulled something out of his pocket. 

Pills. The same ones from the night of his birthday. 

“Do you want one?” He asked, popping one for himself. She considered it for a moment, and with the night being fairly young, and Baekhyun still lingering in the back of her mind, she decided to go for it. His being a jerk didn't mean she couldn't still enjoy herself. 

Dancing with Chanyeol was nice. He was respectful, his hands never venturing further than her hips or waist. He was taller, and overall larger than Baekhyun, which was probably the biggest difference she felt between the two men. She liked that about him, that he made her feel distinctly different than Baekhyun did. Baekhyun was all bold words and risky touches, while Chanyeol was quieter, more cautious. Baekhyun's hands were slender, softer, when they held onto her, delicate in their teasing touches. Chanyeol’s were calloused, stronger, anchoring her without demanding anything more. 

The change of pace was well appreciated, even more so as the drug further loosened her up. She knew that Chanyeol was interested in her, sexually, romantically, or otherwise, but she didn't care. She knew he wouldn't cross any lines, especially not with Baekhyun nearby. 

Eventually the drug in tandem with the crowd of bodies on the dance floor forced the two to catch a breather, ending up outside on a large balcony overlooking the city. It was quieter there, with only a few other people tolerating the cool breeze.

As she looked out at the city, and then back at Chanyeol, she had to fight back a grin. Here she was, on a beautiful, opulent hotel balcony overlooking one of the coolest cities in the world, with a devastatingly handsome rockstar at her side. Baekhyun was the last thing on her mind at that point, she was fully enraptured by the party, the drug, and the man now stepping closer to her. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, though he could see it on her face, how happy she was. She didn’t say anything, her smile speaking for itself. 

“This is nice.” She said, “Really, really nice.” 

Chanyeol nodded in agreement, and when their eyes met this time, neither could seem to look away. They both moved closer, the distance growing smaller and smaller, and out of instinct more than anything else, she threw her arms around his neck. 

With the Seoul skyline as their backdrop, their lips met. Chanyeol took half a step back at first, surprised by her boldness, though he quickly leaned back into her. The kiss was sweet, just testing the waters, enjoying the new sensation amidst the rush of the high. 

When Baekhyun shoved his friend away from her, she initially gasped. But once the surprise wore off, the abundance of happy chemicals in her brain kept her from feeling even the slightest bit upset. 

Baekhyun wanted a reaction. He wanted her to yell, so he could yell back, so he could tell her and Chanyeol off for being such terrible friends. When she instead started to giggle, his blood began to boil. 

“Are you two fucking serious?” 

Chanyeol stayed silent, wide eyed as he watched everything unfold before him. He was relieved that his friend's attention was more focused on her. 

“Are you serious? You said so yourself, we're just friends. I can kiss whoever I want.” 

The lightness in her tone, her unbothered smile, it taunted him, mocked him.

His eyes turned to Chanyeol. “Did you give her drugs?” 

His mouth opened to respond, but the words seemed to get stuck somewhere along the way. 

“Don't worry.” She said, “It's not LSD. I’m not about to say more stupid shit I don't mean.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes dug into his friends, and Chanyeol knew that he was holding back. He knew his friend well enough to know when a line had been crossed. 

“We're leaving.” He ordered, taking tight hold of her hand and pulling her towards the doors. 

She gave Chanyeol a half-assed goodbye, frowning, but didn't resist as Baekhyun pulled them both back to his car. 

“You're being an asshole again.” She commented, her tone still far too nonchalant for Baekhyun’s taste. 

While she'd been off with Chanyeol, Baekhyun found a friend who offered him a generous hit of coke. The drug only amplified his shaky, delirious rage, his grip on the steering wheel tightening at her words.

“I'm being an asshole? Really?” 

“Yea, I was having fun. We aren't together, you've made that abundantly clear, so I don't see what the problem is.” 

“Don't play fucking innocent we both know you only did that to piss me off.” 

“And why does it piss you off? Hmm?” She really hadn't done it with any malicious intent. She’d just wanted to have a good time and one thing led to another, but in her drug induced cloud of smug confidence and brutal honesty she continued on taunting him. “Because I know you care about me. You wouldn't have shown up at my apartment in tears the other day if you didn't care about me.” 

At the next red light he looked over at her, the tension in his jaw and forehead clearly evident in his expression. “You will never be anything more to me than a friend and a good fuck. However you think I might feel won’t change that.” 

His words stung, but she wouldn’t let him know that. “Then you don’t get to freak out when I kiss another guy.” 

Baekhyun didn’t respond, but she could see the anger, he looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“This is fucked.” He eventually muttered. 

“You don’t say.” 

“No, you don’t get it. This is bad.” 

She just rolled her eyes, and tried to concentrate on the city passing by on the other side of the window. 

She assumed he would be taking her back home to her apartment, and yet as he kept driving, it became clear that he was doing nothing of the sort. 

“Baekhyun, where are we going? You said you would drop me off.” 

“‘You’re staying with me tonight.” 

“No the fuck I’m not?! I want to sleep in my own bed, far away from you. Turn around.” 

“No.” 

She stared at him, bewildered, but he refused to even look her way. His eyes remained fixed to the road, which was quickly approaching his building. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Still, he didn’t react, not until the pair were pulling into his building’s parking garage. He parked, turned off the engine, and locked the doors. 

“I need you to stay with me tonight.” His hands remained on the wheel as he said it, anchoring himself. He stared straight ahead at the concrete wall. 

“What?”

“Please, just spend the night. You can go straight to sleep. I won't bother you. But just, stay with me. Please.” 

He finally looked at her. Maybe it was the drug, but the way he looked at her made something shift. He wasn’t angry, he was scared. 

“Why should I?” 

“Maybe you’re right. I know I can’t give you what you want, but I do care.”

“That’s not fair.” 

He shook his head, wearing a pained expression as he got out of the car, opening her door and taking her hand to follow him. She did, though she still wasn’t sure why. 

“Baekhyun, why the hell can’t I just get an uber home? It's not like we're gonna fuck so I don’t see the point in coming up.” 

His hand was suddenly yanking on hers, pulling her close in an instant. He held her face in his hands, barely giving her time to take a breath before his lips were crashing into hers. 

It was messy, needy and desperate. Baekhyun quickly pushed his tongue past her lips, tasting the lingering liquor from earlier in the night, combined with the flavor he was already addicted to. Her. 

“Stop talking.” He whispered into the space between their lips when he’d finally had his fill. She pouted a little, but didn’t challenge him. 

The rest of the night was silent. They went up to his apartment together, and went to bed, without sharing another word. She was getting tired anyway, and the drug made it difficult to care all that much about whatever chaos seemed to be going on in Baekhyun’s head. 

When they laid down together, he pulled her in close, so close it was almost suffocating. His face pressed into the crown of her head, inhaling the clean scent of her shampoo, feeling something inside him twist into an uncomfortable knot. Still, he didn’t let go. If anything, he held on tighter. 

His own words from earlier in the night repeated over and over in his head, until he passed out with her still wrapped firmly around him. 

This is fucked. This is bad.  

Really, really bad. 

[chvoswxtch]

to the halloween queen, i hope this october is treating you well!! i was wondering if i could request a gut wrenching, angsty fic with billy based on paramore’s sanity?

if i call out your name, you don’t come/

no one home, but the void is loud/

echoes around my empty house/

sentences are slowing down

in all honesty, i don’t have many specifics in mind. i was thinking of an established relationship slowly but surely growing apart. to the point they eat dinner in silence, the distance between them whilst sleeping in the same bed grows more and more…in other words, i am asking you to break my heart!

i go by she/her pronouns and they can be used!

<3 thank you, take care, and ily <3

oh my darling sweet nonnie, you definitely came to the right place. I hope october has been kind to you, bc i'm about to break your heart as requested. i'll be here with tissues afterwards 🖤

warning: swearing, slight mention of alcohol, heavy angst word count: 1.4k

sanity.

no one home, but the void is loud / echoes around my empty house

The white noise of bustling traffic was muffled by the dull roar of an icy midnight breeze slowly fading in the background. Through the grand floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, you could see brilliant lights twinkling in a kaleidoscope of colors, vehicles zipping by in a flash in various directions, and masses of people navigating the city by heart. Outside, New York City was clamoring proudly with life.

But in the emptiness of the penthouse, it was so silent and still that the sound of fresh snow hitting the glass was as loud as thunder cracking across the sky.

In a place that more than three million people called home, you had never felt more alone. Standing in front of the expansive windows with the chill radiating through the glass nipping at your nose and cheeks, you felt completely numb and simultaneously like an open wound at the same time. It didn’t always feel this cold.

Last year at this exact same time, this place still felt like home. You could still feel the heat from the flames dancing in the fireplace licking at your skin while the golden glow of the fire created a warm and comforting ambiance in the living room. You could still taste the richness of hot cocoa caressing your tongue, and still hear the sound of Billy’s heartbeat playing in your ear while your head rested on his chest as the two of you admired the tree you had put up together from the couch. Billy had insisted on going all out since he had never really celebrated the holidays before due to growing up in the system. 

In a moment of sincere vulnerability while you were teaching him your special recipe for chocolate chip cookies, Billy had revealed to you that you were the first person he’d ever had to make the holidays feel special. It had been such a big deal to him to make sure everything was perfect, and it made your heart swell like a balloon in your rib cage seeing the childlike happiness on his face as the two of you celebrated together.

That special time now felt like a lifetime ago.

Now, there was only the scent of stale ash in the fireplace, and the absence of Billy’s holiday spirit lingering along the mantle and in the corner of the living room.

You weren’t sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the line, something changed. Billy no longer stopped by your work because he was “in the neighborhood” and just wanted to see you. Conversations became shorter and shorter at dinner until it reached the point of the two of you eating in deafening silence, and then ultimately you found yourself eating alone. Billy no longer wrapped himself around you in bed like a security blanket, and instead you found an ocean between you that kept growing wider and wider until you were stranded in the middle of it alone struggling to keep your head above water. He began to travel more, spent longer hours at the office, and lately would go days without speaking to you at all.

There was no more playful banter and flirtatious teasing in crowded spaces. It had been five months since you and Billy had gone on an actual date, and he had barely touched you in three.  On the rare occasion that he made it home at a decent hour, he ignored your passionate advances and locked himself away in his home office. You and Billy used to not be able to keep your hands off one another, and now you couldn’t even get him to give you a simple peck on the cheek. You couldn’t even remember the last time that he had told you he loved you.

For the past few months, there was a heavy sense of grief weighing on your heart like liquid cement almost as if Billy had died. He would appear suddenly, and then vanish right before your eyes even quicker like an apparition. He barely acknowledged your presence when you called out to him, as if you were the ghost lingering around. The last time you had reached for his hand, it was cold and stiff like that of a corpse. You fought defiantly against the stage of acceptance and refused to admit to yourself that your relationship was decaying in the grave. Instead you remained stubbornly stuck in a purgatory of mourning for the Billy you had fallen in love with, feeling haunted by your own foolish hope and his lingering presence in your heart.

Denial plagued you for months as you frantically tried everything to resuscitate the pulse in your relationship. You changed your hair a few times and put more effort into your outfits and appearance, which consistently went unnoticed by Billy. You planned romantic dates and elaborate getaway trips that he instantly declined. The past three times you had attempted to surprise him at the office for lunch, you couldn’t even get past his receptionist. 

Most nights you spent alone, drowning in your own agony, screaming and sobbing at the stars for answers because Billy wasn’t there to provide them. In moments of over indulgence from the built in bar, you nearly gave into your desperation and participated in the reckless thoughts intrusively entering your head that you were absolutely sure would capture Billy’s attention. But then the epiphany that you felt like you had to put yourself in a dangerous situation just for him to notice you again would shatter your soul into a thousand jagged pieces.

Had you done something to make Billy become so distant? Was he going through something he felt he couldn’t talk to you about? Did he love you at all anymore? Was there someone else? 

That last question made you violently nauseous. The not knowing what was happening with Billy drove you absolutely fucking mad, and you tried every method you could think of to stop the hemorrhaging to salvage what the two of you had. 

But eventually, the weight of the blood staining your hands was impossible to ignore, and the tone of a flatline rang loudly in your ears. The heaviness you felt was a clear sign that there was no longer life left in what you and Billy had created together, and the warm thrum of a pulse would never be found again.

You didn’t bother to tell Billy that you were leaving. The eulogy had already been engraved on the headstone months ago, you just couldn’t bring yourself to read it. Taking one last glance around the penthouse that had been your shared home, all you could think about was the day you first moved in. Everything had looked so bright, felt so warm and inviting, and Billy had been ecstatic to share a home with you. He had told you that you were what made the place feel like home, and in a moment of candor entrusted you with the sentiment of how happy it made him to finally have someone to come home to.

But now as you stood in the middle of the living room in the dark, it just felt cold and empty. Billy had been gone for two weeks on a business trip and was supposed to return home tomorrow, but this time you wouldn’t be there waiting by the door to welcome him back. After finally finding the strength to face the heartbreaking truth of your reality, you had spent the past twenty-four hours removing every trace of your existence. There was only one last thing to erase.

The devastating loss had left your heart maimed, and the memories of Billy’s touch afflicted phantom bruises onto your skin. It was time to tend to your own wounds and mend the parts of you that had been broken by him. After one final look around, you placed the handcrafted engagement ring on the kitchen island like a rose on a coffin as a silent goodbye and quietly disappeared into the depths of midnight.

tags: @nolita-fairytale @thyme-in-a-bubble @mars-rants-a-lot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @topperthornton

[blindedowl]

Genesis

tw: nsfw themes, fem reader, dom reader, stalking, yandere

Sunday, August 4, 2024

You’ve been quite stressed lately. What that promotion of yours offered in profit has been quickly chipping away at your sanity, and that new apartment, while spacious, still leaves much to be desired in location. However, tonight was different. These lonely, late-night commutes have brought you a unique sense of comfort. And though your phone’s light still accompanied you through the night, you were glowing even brighter yourself. 

Monday, August 5, 2024

This night was no different. You carried that air from before, or rather, it carried you as you glided across the sidewalk. Your feet, as feathers upon clouds, skipped and danced as if you were performing for an audience. Your stress evaporated, and your load lightened.

Tuesday, August 6, 2024

Tonight, you marched with confidence. The trees to your sides guarded you like cherubim to the throne; The rustling of their leaves as your drumline. Truly, nothing had changed. Your job the same and your apartment still littered with empty boxes, but perhaps the night, had finally come to respect you. 

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

What a sight to be seen. You had came down from your high, and yet you seemed to merge with the heavens. Nay, you had found your way back into them. The moon and stars now shining brightly as celebration at their creator’s return.

Thursday, August 8, 2024

Tonight, you brought a man an ANIMAL into your home. With a sultry look on your face no less. Your apartment now reeked of rotten fish. Spattered with dirt and crumbs. TAINTED with the presence of a COMMON HOUSE SPARROW. Why? My beautiful dove, why would you let this filth befoul you this way? And he left so soon. Is this what had made you so happy? So at peace? I watched over you throughout the night. Your soft skin glistening in the moonlight. I would never let you be alone; This would not happen again. 

Friday, August 9, 2024

Today, I followed you oh so closely. Closer than ever before. Your scent cleansed my nose of the trash the night before; Your voice a harmonious choir upon my ears. Through none other than a miracle, I had been able to breathe the same air as you. And so, I continued to follow you, delighted in your presence, all the way back to your nightly walk home. Where suddenly, you stopped and turned to look directly at me, a cruel smile adorning your face. 

“You’re so much cuter when you’re jealous.”

I fell to my knees as you walked up to me. Frozen you placed a hand gently on my chin, tilting my head up to meet my eyes; Yours blending in with the stars in the night sky. You let out a sigh as your smile quickly melted into a disappointed frown. Then, you promptly removed your hand and gave me a firm slap.

“You’ve been getting lazy recently. Don’t disappoint me again. My seraph.”

I remained there far longer after you left. My hand resting on my reddened cheek. I had been born anew. My Goddess having given me a second chance.

Saturday, August 10, 2024

And on the seventh day, you rested.

thank you for reading til the end, big experiment here, feedback appreciated <3

[torque-witch]

And continuing - last night I realized how incredibly fragile I really am.

I had been in pain all day from a flare up or bad food, who knows - and these days I just can’t mentally handle it because it makes me feel inferior and anxious that I’ll lose what’s left of my financial stability.

So I asked my husband to walk to the gas station to get me some chips bc it’s a safe food of mine, but I didn’t explain that. Because as soon as he responded with “we really can’t keep spending money on snacks, you need to eat the food in the house. And potato chips are not healthy for a gut flare up-“

I immediately started crying unemotionally and went nonverbal, staring blankly at the wall ahead and rubbing my hands together to keep myself grounded somewhere in reality until I could form a sentence.

He wasn’t even angry about it - he was just giving me a logical response and I completely shut down because I felt guilty, felt like a burden, felt like I upset him, felt like I was being a princess, etc etc, felt pressure to stop crying and answer the question he posed (what kind of chips).

And he still had no idea I was nonverbal! He just thought I had a hard time choosing a chip shape (round or rigged) because we are both helplessly neurodivergent.

All to demonstrate - I cannot emotionally handle failure right now. So I don’t even want to try. Maybe it’s RSD, maybe it’s just CPTSD. But I am going through this year on a thread of sanity.

It just seems safer to stay quiet, not share my interests and just float along saving my energy for big events until something miraculously doesn’t happen. And I’m sure that losing my yard that I spent a lot of time fixing isn’t helping. It was literally one of the biggest reasons why we got this specific apartment. And our only way forward? To ignore it. Pretend it never happened.

And my husband just got laid off. I’ve just blocked my sister for like the 5th time this year. I’m clearly not handling it well. Isolating is just safer.

[4awny]

Kyman Week Day 6 - First Trip

As Eric Cartman.

June 12th. Aged 42. A Thursday. This was the day of my release. 

Let's just address the elephant in the room first. It was second degree murder and I got 20 years. Due to good behaviour, I was out in 15. Coming off my medication was my biggest downfall and none of it would have happened if I just listened to people and got the help I needed.

I still think the guy deserved it, that's something I'll never submit to. I did it for Kyle, but I was also a danger to him too. Prison was inevitable.

He often came to visit. We talked everyday and he was this beacon of hope that got me through the first few years.

Prison wasn't so bad for me. I was terrified at first, but as time went on, I felt a sense of belonging there. I met people who were just like me, people who thought the same way I did. People void of emotions, people that were selfish, people that used others for their own gain. Psychopaths, narcissists. You name it, they were there. I kept clear from them.

It made me realize that I wasn't there to serve my time and be done with it. I was there to be rehabilitated.

After my second year, I cut ties with Kyle. 

He was completely devastated. I refused visits, made zero calls and couldn't bring myself to read his letters. After the fourth year, he stopped sending them. I think it probably broke him.

It wasn't fair holding him back anymore. I couldn't expect him to wait for me and I just wanted him to move on. It was the right thing to do and I have no regrets making that decision.

I befriended a few weirdos. Found a new faith. Lost weight, gained it back. Made connections. I still thought about him. Everyday I thought about him. 

As I approached my tenth year, I got the news that an old friend passed away. I was heartbroken. They buried him in South Park cemetery, where mom is. I still miss them both.

The later years were tough. Things started to change in there and I was struggling to cope. I came close to calling Kyle on so many occasions, but I always ended up disconnecting the call when I heard an answer. I only wanted to hear his voice. He has no idea how much it helped me.

Then one day, after around the year twelve mark, I heard a different voice. I hung up quickly, distraught. Desperation kicked in, like an old habit. I spent the next few months calling frequently and I didn't stop until I heard Kyle's voice again. Relief, because it became an obsession and I was doing so well up until that point. I broke the chip and tossed the phone for my own sanity. I promised myself that I wouldn't contact him again.

I got an early release, which I wasn't expecting. I said goodbye to home and before I knew it, I'm walking through the doors to freedom.

I'll cut the boring details. Two years go by and I got a car, an apartment and a job. I had a girlfriend too at one point, but it didn't work out. I broke it off, but she was also pregnant, so we remained friends.

The anniversary of Kenny's death came around, so I went to the cemetery to pay my respects. Just when I started to pray, I heard my name being called.

I turned around immediately and there he was, standing opposite me with flowers in his hand. He was just as stunned as I was and neither of us said anything for a few moments. I didn't have my glasses on, but his face was as clear as day.

His hair was shorter, he had a beard and the color was less vibrant than what I remember - more faded. My knees almost buckled over. He ran over to me and we crashed into each other. I silently sobbed into his shoulder and I couldn't let go.

"You'll be fine, everything's gonna be okay." He told me. He always knew what to say.

He took me to a diner and we stayed in there for hours, talking. I told him I had a daughter on the way. He didn't attempt to hide the surprised look on his face, but then he blurted out that he was divorced and I laughed hysterically.

It was so fucking typical of him.

He was curious to see where I lived, so he came home with me. We went the long way back, whatever that meant because it was only a ten minute drive. I think he just wanted to remind me of all the memories we shared together. Reminiscing, like old men.

I consider this our first trip together. Call it a trip down memory lane. My next and final story is where it ends.

6 / 7

Prev / Next

You'll be fine - ao3 for notes and shit

dayum im 5 mins late today 😭 whoops

[artemiseamoon]

Sneak peak: Do you ever crave it?

Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Johnny omc (fc: younger grungy Boyd) | Johnny x ofc x Dio

Tba

A long sneak peak below

An upcoming story for late Spring or summer 2023. I just want to close out at least 2 more fics first. I’ve been quietly chipping away at this for 2 months and have 5 chapters written so far.

Some themes will be: starting over, shitty childhood, alcoholic parent, struggling with personal demons, sexual awakening, two bi male characters and a bi ofc, m x m, m x f x m, vampirism. This isn’t on A03 yet. But once it is I’ll announce here and @artemiseamoon-updates . You can save this post too. I’ll link any updated news at the bottom. For now, here is a long sneak peak 💚

Warnings: Shane is a warning, such an egotistical shit and delusional and I really run with it here 😂, shitty childhood, absent parents, thievery, alcoholism mentioned, shitty attitude toward women (via Dio) vampire stuff (blood, biting, etc)

After the charges for a crime he didn’t commit were dropped, Shane disappeared into the shadows. He was many things; rebel, asshole, anarchist, selfish, vain, shit talker, devil worshipper (when convenient), want to be rockstar, shitty boyfriend, an abandoned child - but he wasn’t a killer.

Sure, he wanted to kill that fucker, at least two other guys in that room did too. Shane was real tempted but a spark of sanity (the one often absent when he did stupid shit) was miraculously working that day. That rare thing called sense broke through and he dropped the knife and left, just for the prick to end up dead 10 minutes later.

That night while Dio got ready for a show in his shitty closet of an apartment on avenue B, police were already on his tail, snatched him up just as he walked out the door.

If he was a more evolved person, or more reflective he’d see this landing on his as some kind of karmic retribution for all his sins.

But he wasn’t evolved, or as mature as he pretended to be. He was pissed, hell bent on revenge and more angry at the world than he’s ever been.

He tells himself, They are jealous, that it’s. Dio is evolved, everyone else isn’t

.

Now in hiding, everything leading up this replayed in his mind, so did the initial interrogation.

Although I’m not surprised, they’re all posers

(What are you about Dio?) The next level

Too long. You see, for some reason people are drawn to me and it’s hard to shake them. I’m sorry, does that sound conceited?

Please, I was her mentor. Tried to teach her how live life. The real life. Not all the ones the drones dance to.

The other person has to crave it. Do you ever crave it Connie?

I answer to a higher power, my faith cannot be broken. Everybody else is disposable.

Posers, drones, losers - everyone fell under one of those. But something about being locked up knocked him down a peg, not that he’d admit that aloud- and it made it harder to forget shit he didn’t want to think about.

Behind that, faded memories of his childhood and parents he could barely remember. His mother left when he was 4, never said why, just left - fuck her. He hates thinking about that. She was the first, the first of many women to disappoint him. Too bad he liked them so much, if it wasn’t for the sex-

His father, the bastard stuck around longer, not that mattered. The son of a bitch spent more time in the pub down the street and at his ‘girlfriend of the weeks’ place. He often left a few bucks, leaving Shane to fend for himself.

Around the age of 12, his father was so sick from his alcoholism the man was near bedridden. It was at that time CPS stepped in.

At 15, Shane found his escape through music, harder darker stuff than he first listened to, and started dabbling in books on magic and the occult. For the first time, he felt like something fit - there was a place for him in this.

From 16-19 he ran with a crowd deep into vampires, even had a little club of their own. Late nights doing rituals from books, chanting at alters in abandoned buildings - this was his life.

Even when he parted from that crowd, he held on to the fantasy. There were times he really believed it, his superiority over others. He still believed the real vampire rituals they used.

While squatting in his dads old place in philly, now boarded up and abandoned after the man died two years ago, Shane found some comfort in those old vampire books. So much so, he resurfaced from hiding, went back to ny, and visited two of his biggest fans, some rich chicks, the poser types who like bad boys.

He stayed with them a while, got laid, borrowed money he swore he’d pay back after then lifted some expensive jewelry. When they started to bore him, he left and took a bus down to New Orleans.

There was nothing left for him back East anyway, no imagination, no inspiration, nothing real. And sure, he still got fans in both places, people who’d do anything for him. People who would give him a place to stay as long as they got to hang out with him. But he’s bored, it’s all to easy.

.

The moment Shane landed in Nola, he knew he was home. One of his last contacts before leaving was an old band mate, one of the only people left he could trust, those other assholes ratted him out, pointing the cops his way.

Shane felt a little bad asking for help, he was mostly an asshole to the guy, like he was to everyone. Still, the guy put him in touch with a friend who lived there.

Shane reminded himself to not steal anything or fuck this up, if he did, he’d be sleeping on a park bench somewhere. At least in NY he knew people, had places to go, even if all it meant hooking up with some thirsty chic. Here, he doesn’t have any of that.

The few belongings he had fit into a duffle bag and one of his fathers old suitcases. Dipping into his limited funds, until he could pawn the jewelry, he stopped at some bar on Bourbon street for a beer. Then peeked into of the windows of a strip club, getting a quick glance of some nice tits before the guard pushed him away.

Shane flipped him off, then continued on his way. He’d have to get a cab, or figure out the right streetcar to find the address, but first he wanted to explore a bit.

His long leather jacket, black no.1 dye job and multiple piercings didn’t get a second look, he passed at least 5 other goths since being here, it made him felt even more at ease.

These were real goths. Not those fucking posers who hung around and were always trying to get his attention, this was big time - the real fucking deal.

Next, Shane headed to the record shop near Frenchman, just outside of the Quarter. Even though he didn’t even have anything to play records on, yet.

As Shane entered the shop, he gained a long look from the guy behind the counter, and brief glances from some others. He almost responded by saying, “Take a picture, it last longer.”

But again, he’s trying to behave. New city. He’s trying to not fuck this up. He normally didn’t think twice about getting into altercations, he liked them, he loved egging people on. But he just got here and had a suspicious amount of jewelry on him - last thing he wants is a night in jail.

Shane bit back a response and headed to the ‘rock/metal’ section. As he neared it, the guy already there caught his attention, he seemed out of place. Goldilocks should be over in the pop section.

“Poser.” Shane muttered with a chuckle, then started thumbing a section of records. As he did, he found himself glancing at the blonde, who was wearing headphones, in a world of his own as he looked very throughly through the cds. He eyed the guys clothes, pale blue jeans, a pair of converse and a old tshirt.

One of those grunge kids. Real Kurt Cobain wanna be.

As he thought this, a little smirk appeared on the guys lips and for a second, Shane felt like he could hear him, like this stranger was in his head.

No. He had headphones on.

He shook the thought away, stepped back, then took one more look at the blonde before heading to the ‘industrial/dark wave’ section.

By time Shane looked over again, the blonde was gone. Shane didn’t know why he cared so much, or why he couldn’t shake the blonde from his thoughts, even hours later when he settled in on the couch he’d be crashing on for two weeks.

.

Johnny walked the outside of the quarter, soaking up all the energy; revelry, gluttony, and that delicious taste of sin. This city has it in abundance. For a still young vampire, it’s exciting to be surrounded with so much food; easy, drunk, plump food.

Once he reached home, the antiquated 4 story home on Esplanade avenue, he made his way inside. The music he heard from the street was louder now, the old sitting room full of his roommates and some human house guests.

“I hope you’re hungry, we have a feast,” Eris latched on to him from behind.

“I’ll join soon.” He looked back at her, flashing a smile.

Once she let him go, he headed up the stairs to the balcony. Sitting outside, he stared off into the courtyard. The goth guy from the record shop entered his mind again.

Danny laughed,

One of those grunge kids. Real Kurt Cobain wanna be. If they were using musicians, that’s guy was a Trent Reznor wanna be.

Aside from leather, musk and clove, Danny could smell arrogance on him, arrogance and a well hidden cocktail of fear: fear of being abandoned again, fear of being forgotten, fear he’s the very thing he hates so much - a poser.

Danny heard all his thoughts, and the ones behind those too. He’s only been a vampire for 2 years now, but he’s one of the few who got the mind gift. It was a gamble, like genes, and much to the distain of another vampire in the house, Danny got it.

He tried to keep it off sometimes, as advised by his mentor, it could drive a vampire crazy, and he saw it with his own eyes.

Danny wasn’t sure what drew him to the brown eyed boy with an excessive dye job so much. His suitcase and scent of city life on him made it clear he was new. Danny hoped, if the city didn’t decide to spit the goth out, he’d see him again.

And if the goth was as insufferable as he seemed, well, Danny could just eat him, maybe keep his jacket too.

More coming in a few weeks 🖤

More Pedro

More Shane

More Boyd

No tags

@artemiseamoon-updates

A03: artemiseamoon

[pentagonieslut]

Obstacle

song title series number two !!

song: Obstacle - KARRA

mv at the bottom of the drabble

readerxlune, gn!reader x lune, jung sungmin, lune, dkb, obstacle, heartbroken!reader, shittybf!lune, asshole!lune, emotional!reader

“you’re an obstacle i got to climb.”

lune is shitty and you let it slide. but when you end it to keep your sanity and he comes crawling back? what happens? stream obstacle by karra.

"going through the motions, don't wanna pretend i'm alright." you had said as your friends nodded in response and rubbed your arms in comfort. you had ended it with lune after he thought it'd be fun to cheat right then and there at the party.

he even gave you a nasty look and told you to go away. and all those years you had spent together. asshole.

your friends had encouragingly forced you out the house to cheer up and dance the night away to feel better. even you, the person who had the hottest body out of your friend group felt horrible and ugly in the outfit they had chosen despite it being the top ten in sexy from your closet. "i don't wanna do this tonight." you had said softly as mira shook her head and pushed you inside the club.

to be honest you were enjoying it a bit. you had let loose a bit and even had a few drinks bought for you.

..okay too much fun.

your eyes were puffy from all the crying you did again and the late night. with the hoodie over your head, you made your way to the convenience store and grabbed a basket, going through the aisles slowly, picking up this and that for you to eat and continue your lonely breakup playlist party. "why are you hiding behind the hoodie?" lune had asked as you blinked a bit and noticed the tall male in front of you. "i feel better about my appearance. why are you here, sungmin?" you asked as you went around him and grabbed several bowls of ramen. "to talk and make up." "i'm dumb enough to pretend the first time and i'll believe it over and over again. that you love only me and were 'doing it for a dare with the guys'-- bullshit." you spat as your grabbed a couple of hotdog (called sausage sticks in Korea) sticks and threw them in your increasingly heavy basket.

“no i wasn’t going to use that excuse baby. i promise. i was going to explain and be honest.” lune said quickly as he stepped in front of you. “you’re just an obstacle i got to climb if i don’t crawl to go to the other side.” you spoke as you went around and continued getting the rest of your stuff, checking out and making your way back to your memoria shithole apartment. his stuff is still there.

“baby. what happened that night was just drunk dumb fucks who mistook the other for their lover. honest.” you cackled and raised a brow, looking at sungmin in amusement. he really thinks you’re a dumb bitch. “that’s not what last summer says.” “last summer days me getting her to leave you alone!”

lune had followed you back to the apartment and stood in front of the door. you were becoming annoyed at him and rolling your eyes. “you’re impossible. i know what i have is the truth because i’m the one who took the photos.” lune was shocked but quickly recovered.

he wasn’t expecting the bombshell of how it got leaked. he also was mentally shitting himself for taking you for granted. not even his pretty face could get you this time. but it wasn’t going to get him to stop. he was determined to get you back and get more poker chips when he went gambling.

“sungmin. move away from the door.” he stood firm and you growled. “get out of my way.” “no. not until you listen and take me back.” “that’s never happening ever again. now get out of my way bitch.” you screamed as lune sighed and walked away.

eight doors opened immediately and the boys poked their heads out. “what happened? are you okay?” they chorused unintentionally, causing you to wipe your tears and laugh in the fast bear group hug. “he’s just an obstacle.”

[princesscolumbia]

I think the point at which my brain fully dumped out all the bullshit programming I'd grown up with around the issue of homelessness was when, in 2019, I was living out of my van and praying the gasket leak wouldn't take it out so I could drive between the walmart parking lot where the cops wouldn't kick us out just for trying to sleep in the back seat of my own damn vehicle, the fitness club I paid the membership for specifically so I could have a shower, and my job that had no clue they'd hired a homeless transwoman.

It wasn't my personal experience of homelessness that did it.

It wasn't even the fact that I was working a customer support call center for a real estate rental company that charged so much for the homes they rented out that it would take three of any one of the employees in their own damn call center to afford one of the houses for rent.

It wasn't even the time I was having to pay $3 a day for ice to put into my massive pink cooler with the built-in battery operated portable A/C that I had to point specifically at my head to trick my body into believing I wasn't actually trying to sleep in temperatures that would, literally, boil your brain.

It wasn't even the phone call I took the day after the haboob that nearly suffocated me and my GF because it was a fucking dust storm in the middle of July in the goddamn desert where a lady living in one of the houses my employer rented out demanding I escalate her refrigerator broken ice machine to "emergency" because this particular special snowflake was having a party in two hours and needed her ice.

(Like, not even talking about the fact that you're saying this to a homeless person who's sanity is being chipped away by the desert heat every night and feeling personally betrayed because growing up she'd always been told that "the desert nights are so much cooler than the day" and sitting there in 90℉+ heat and wondering when it was supposed to cool off and realizing the daytime heat of 120℉+ was a full 30-degree spread and if it'd gone from 90 down to 60 it would, indeed, be downright cool in comparison and realized then and there that anyone who says "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" is a goddamn asshole that deserves, at minimum, a baseball bat to the sternum and the entire time she's squeezing a fist so tight she could probably form a diamond if she had a lump of coal so she doesn't COMPLETELY lose her shit and tell you where you can shove your ice maker so she doesn't lose the one lifeline she's got to make sure she and her girlfriend don't run out of food by the end of the day.)

What took all my preconceptions about homelessness (not to mention a LOT of unconscious classism that I'd been living with most of my life) was when, in the middle of all that, I read an article about how there were more vacant residential homes (that includes apartments, houses, duplexes, trailer homes, etc.) then there were homeless people in the entirety of the USA.

Literally someone could take a homeless person and just...put them in an apartment or a house or a trailer or anything and there would still be empty residential homes left over.

Because all the empty places were "high end" homes that nobody could afford, let alone the homeless people.

Also, like, I'm sorry but if you've set up a free shelter, and people refuse to go because sleeping on the sidewalk under a freeway bridge is more pleasant, that's fucking on you, that's not on them.

You really can't compete with sleeping under the overpass so you are going to force people into shelter?

Unspeakably cruel and stupid.

[nonesensegibberish]

Nine months

I guess my last post was nine months ago, or thereabouts. To make it easier for future-me: 9/21/24 is the current date. Do you remember? The 21st night of September? Im still alive. I wanted to say 'despite my best efforts', but that wouldn't be true. I've managed to keep from having any new attempts. Not even any cutting. Its good. I should be happy about that. I dunno. I feel like I should be happier. Thats what I was coming here to mumble and whine about. I'm better than I once was, truely. I'm doing more and more often... Maybe not in comparison to january. Maybe I was better in january... But I think I'm better than I was january of LAST year, at the very least. I have more friends than I once did, and closer ones at that. Ones that I dont feel like a burden around. I have FANS. Can you believe that? Honest-to-god *fans*. It feels like I should be closer to what I've always dreamed- than I ever have been before. So why do I still feel empty? I'm running out of HRT. My insurance is gone. I'm having to use crypto to buy DIY estrogen over a shady website. But some people, kind as can be, have chipped in to help me pay for it. God- the entire MONTH of august- I was given so much by people who are so kind. I gave incentive, sure. I made it feel like a transaction for my own sanity. But still. People liked me THAT much. So why do I feel unloved and useless? I'm 'working'. I'm doing decent things. I'm helping where I can. So why am I still a failure? I dont know. It feels like I'll never be meaningfully happy. It feels like nothing will ever truely go alright, or if it does I wont ever be able to appreciate it. It hasn't been all roses. This entire year has felt like non-stop strain and suffering. My dog is dead. My grandpa is dead. We have a new dog who I cant find it in me to love. My family is falling apart. I continue to be a drain, who cant work to save her life. I don't know. It feels like the slightest things set me off, now. A slamming door, a raised voice. I nearly exploded and broke down just from dropping some food. I'm getting constant headaches and tiredness. I don't know. I just want it to stop. I want things to go alright for a little while. I'll live. I will. I just hate myself sometimes, and this life I live. I want everything to be better. The happy days feel so temporary and slight. It is what it is. I dont know what I even am saying anymore. I dont know what the point of all this was- if it had one. I just want to scream into the void, but I don't want to bother anyone. Having a fanbase is kind of hard. I want to say things. I want to scream from the rooftops. I want to be allowed to be vulerable and drop my guard. I want to be able to vent my frustrations publicly. Thats why this is here, I guess. I don't know why you're reading this. In all likelyhood- no one else ever will. But YOU still are, me. You'll read this later down the line- some other day. Why. What do you get out of it? Will you be looking on with pity? Will you be a better person than I am right now? Will you be sad for the life you used to live? Or will you be looking with anger and frustration? Annoyed as I suck on my silver spoon, and cry at the taste of it? Is it worse? Are you worse off? Is life even harder? I hope it isn't. Im so sorry if it is. You deserve love. We both do. I hope Lexi is still tolerating us. I hope mom is always going to be healthy. I hope dad is better. I hope our friends still are our friends. I hope that you aren't the me that looks on with envy at who I am right now. I'm sorry that I'm not better. I'm sorry. I want to be, but I'm weak. Too weak. I want to be appreciative of what I have, but its never enough.

Do you still like Porter Robinson and tabletop games? Do you still have Jack, and Liz, and Sarah, and all the others? Do you love yourself? I hope you do. I hope you are everything I wish to be. ... If you're reading this, and you aren't me...? Well... Then I'm sorry. That must have been meaningless to you. But it cant be any less meaningful than any of the rest of this, can it...? I don't know. Maybe you get something out of it. Maybe it somehow helps. I hope it does. I hope you're doing okay, whoever you are. I hope the world is kind to you. I hope the world is kind to all of us.

Goodbye for now. Maybe I'll see you in 9 to 10 more months.

-A thing which is... 20% or 50% dying.

[diaryofnathanxu314]

Another Vent (?

Before the dawn of tomorrow, a day on which I shall be absent due to my impending journey to Alubihid for the camp, I must confess a dread that weighs heavily on my soul. Truly, the shadows of fear grip me, for I ought never to have come here—especially with him lurking like a specter in the midst. His very presence sends shivers cascading down my spine, stirring a turmoil within me. I abhor every moment spent in this place, yearning instead for the comforting embrace of home. Yet, here I stand, bound by the chains of academics, compelled to partake in this encampment lest I forfeit my progression to Grade 12. Moreover, it stands as both a necessary clearance and a physical education requirement—a dual burden that I bear with great reluctance.

So here's the tea: it all started in Grade 10 when I decided to dip my toes into the whole school camping scene for the first time. The first night was pretty uneventful, so let's fast-forward to the next day. There was this guy, who used to be my crush back then. Let's call him JP. Everything was smooth sailing until the tail end of the camp.

Picture this: I'm in the restroom changing clothes, and out of nowhere, JP flung the door open. There I was, mid-outfit swap, absolutely mortified. Seriously, the last thing I wanted was for him to catch a glimpse of me at my most vulnerable. I felt like crawling into a hole.

However as I soaked up those vacation days before starting 11th grade, it hit me how much his behavior was like a dark cloud from my past, one that still messes with me emotionally. It reminded me of this awful time in fifth grade when my classmates sexually harassed me. Just the way he barged in while I was changing—it brought it all back. That's when I really start to fall apart inside, with each passing day chipping away at my peace of mind. It's like I'm coming undone, thread by thread. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my first day back in 11th grade hit me like a ton of bricks—I found out he's still in my class, of all the luck. Then, to top it off, at this year's camp, when I checked the room assignments, there he was, listed right next to me, in the same room. Give me a break. It feels like I'm just setting myself up for him to hurt me all over again. As if I'm not messed up enough already, why does he have to be in the same room with me?

And as much as I hate to say it, I spent hours crying in the school bathroom. I had to tuck myself away from the crowd. God forbid anyone sees me and I end up embarrassed. Now, with it being so early in the morning (around 2 am) I ought to be extra cautious lest he ruin my life once more, like the one he dealt me last year. And it really gets under my skin that he's moved on while I've been left to lug around this heavy trauma for a whole year. Each day comes by and my sanity is going lower and lower and I don't even know how long can I hold on. And what hurts even more is that back in tenth grade, I had a huge crush on him. I was totally drawn in by his enigmatic vibe, his charm, and his smarts. He's like the devil dressed up in charisma.

It's all my fault I'm messed up hahahaha It's all my fault that it lead me to this, the unhinged vengeful guy seeking revenge Now, all that's left is an empty shell of a shattered soul, my sanity reduced to nihility. I've lost touch with who I used to be; if I looked in the mirror now, I'd probably see nothing but a vindictive madman staring back.

[bullet-prooflove]

Try: Mike Duarte x Reader

Tagging: @nessamc

The knife was at Duarte’s throat before he had a chance to speak. His back slammed against the flimsy wall of the cheap apartment as the blade bit into his skin, scrapping across the salt and pepper stubble. He ground his teeth together, hissing as your forearm rammed into his chest.

“Honey, why don’t you quit playing?” he uttered. “We both know you don’t have it in you to kill me.”

“Says the man who broke into my apartment.” You snapped before relinquishing your hold on him. “What are you doing here Mike?”

His palm rubbed across jawline, his fingertips seeking out the nick in his flesh. It stung like crazy, citrus seeping into it from the limes you had been slicing before he’d gained entry through the fire escape.

“You need to get better locks on that window.” He said instead of answering your question, following you into the tiny kitchenette. You gestured for him to take a seat at the minuscule kitchen table. He shook his head, instead crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. His eyes wandered throughout the space, taking in the damp stain spreading across the ceiling. “This is quite the little shit hole they’ve got you shacked up in.”

“You never told me why you were here.” You said, reaching up into the cabinet and removing a second glass before placing it alongside yours. You picked up the bottle of whiskey, tilting it from side to side before he nodded. You dropped a slice of lime into each of your glasses before pouring the amber liquid over it.

“You need my help.” He said, taking the glass from your hand when offered it.

“That’s funny, the last time we spoke I remember saying I didn’t want anything from you.” You reminded him, leaning against the Formica work surface.

“A lot has changed in three years.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

It looked like he certainly had. He looked more put together these days. His dark hair clean, freshly washed, the stubble on his cheeks leading into neatly trimmed goatee. His face was fuller, more defined instead of the gaunt sharp angles you had seen on him last time. He’d filled out a little more, definitely muscle, you wondered when he had started taking care of himself.

“I’m not that desperate.” You murmured, swilling the liquid in your glass.

He looked away and you could see the muscle in his jaw twitching, a tell-tale sign that this ran far deeper than he wanted to express.

“You want me to get on my knees and beg?” he snarled.

“You used to look so pretty when you did.” You mocked.

He gave you that look, that dark intense stare that lit a fire somewhere deep inside of you. You remembered nights spent underneath him, fingertips digging into his skin as he whispered to you in Spanish. Beautiful, sinful things as he fucked you to the very precipice of your sanity. He set his glass down on the chipped table, his hands coming to rest on either side of the work surface as he stared into your eyes.

“How long has it been since someone cared about you hm?” he asked, the back of his hand trailing across your cheekbone. “Since someone kissed you? Loved you?”

You said nothing, your gaze lowered to lips as his hips slotted perfectly against yours.

“I know who you are.” He told you, his forehead pressed against yours, his thumb smoothing over the blush of your cheek. “I have mourned your losses and celebrated your triumphs and I have loved you with every single inch of my heart.”

“I know.” You whispered as his lips brushed over yours.

“Then why did you let them do this to you?” He asked in a hushed whisper. “Why did you let them put you so deep undercover that you can barely see the sun?”

“When they came for you, they came for me too.” You told him softly. “They had enough to bury you and I… I couldn’t let that happen. It was take this assignment or let you drown.”

“So, you saved me…” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. “I thought it was me. I thought you wanted out.”

“Never.” You told him. “I never wanted to leave.”

He kissed you and it was fire and passion ripping through your soul, burning you up inside until there was nothing but the sensation of his mouth on yours. His fingers tangled in your hair, drawing you closer, his muscular form pressing against yours. Fuck, it had been too long since he had touched you, the yearning flooded through your veins like a narcotic, stripping you of all your armour.

“Will you let me help you?” he asked, cradling your face between his hands and looking into your eyes. You could see everything inside of them, his grief, his anger and his love. That immense, precious feeling that he had tried to bury in the time you’d been away. It spilled over the edges, bleeding colour into his world and he knew he couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let you slip away from him a second time.

“Will you at least let me try?”

Love Mike Duarte? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bibbykins]

jungkook.... whining... while oc rides his dick.... brain is shortcircuiting rn

I... I have no words for how this came out of me at the speed it did. This is kinda funny to put out when the next parts are gonna be pretty sad (not too sad ofc) but lmao nonetheless

So, Beg (M)

Words: 1.2k

Note: This is a drabble for The Household's Bunny Series

Pairing: Soft yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Camgirl! Reader

Warnings: 18+, dom/sub dynamics, riding, whining, name-calling, flustered jk, cream pie, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, brat! reader, finger sucking

Jungkook knew many things about himself, arguably he knew even more about you. The most basic being you were a sub and he was a hard dom. There had never been any question about how well puppy dog eyes fit on your face as you begged for sweet release and the way a sadistic smile would curve onto his features as he ripped your request to shreds. He was cruel, dastardly, and evil. He was a cry baby brat's worst nightmare, your worst nightmare, and if you didn't know that by now, after this little show, you would be learning that lesson days after it ends.

"Fuck." He grit out as he threw his head back.

If only he could focus on how sorry you would be among the base need to empty himself within you as you swirled your hips slowly.

You clicked your tongue, "Kook, that's a bad word." You stated matter-of-factly, "I told you to say nice words if you want to be rewarded." You clenched around him but ceased movement when he tried to push his hips up, a difficult task considering how his limbs were tied to his bedposts as you had been countless times before.

He let out a breathy laugh, "You're just so soft and tight, bunny." He resisted the urge to tell you all about how screwed you were. He did agree to let you take control, figuring you would hardly know what to do. Had he known Taehyung had given you tips beforehand, he would've never agreed to this torture, "C'mon, baby, be nice to me." He did his best not to make it sound like a command but the pressure in his dick as it pulsed inside you did him no favors.

You rolled your eyes at his poor attempt to get mercy. Flattery was the oldest trick in the book, and one you had mastered, so he would have to try much harder. You looked down at the idol before you and fought the urge to sigh dreamily, "You're so pretty, Koo." You mused, hands rubbing over his defined abs and slowly making your way up his chest, "I never knew you would look this cute all needy and desperate." You could see his face flush even more as you rolled your hips against him slowly. Letting out a shaky breath you continued, "Don't you think you're a cutie?"

His eyes rolled back as you leaned down, breasts pressing against him, while your mouth hovered over his, "Baby." He tried to warn you but only received a light kiss.

"Say you're a cutie." You ordered, "And maybe I'll move some more, hm?"

Jungkook was no stranger to praise, and he knew he was attractive. His physical appearance had rarely been an issue to him, but with the way you looked down on him, he couldn't help but hesitate, "That's ridiculous-"

"Bad." You giggled against his ear before your lips found purchase on his neck, sucking harshly and enjoying the groan you ripped from him, "Tell me you're a cutie."

Jungkook found himself weak when it came to your affection and had no choice but to surrender, at least a little.

He sighed, "I'm a cutie, now just-" The words died on his tongue as you sat up and pulled yourself from him before sinking back down. He swore nirvana was on the horizon as you swiveled your hips.

"So hard for me." You gasped out, nails pressing into his stomach. Fuck, he loved when you marked him up, "Feels good." You moaned with a small giggle.

He nodded, his release gaining on him after what felt like hours of this torment, "It does, so sweet and tight-"

You couldn't fight your smile much longer as you stopped moving again. The disgruntled noise that left Jungkook’s lips only drew out your laughter, "So beg for it." You challenged, leaning down to look him in the eyes, "Beg me to ride you till you cum." The flare of dormant dominance in his eyes made you clench around him. You were sure if you hadn't reinforced the silk ties, he would've broken out ages ago.

"Bunny." He grit out, definitely warning you but the brokenness of his tone while your walls fluttered around his cock made it significantly less intimidating.

Unable to hold back much more, you captured his lips in a messy kiss. Your hands cupped his face as his tongue tangled with yours, "Beg, and I'll ride you till we both cum." You offered and he groaned, "Misbehave, and I ride you till I cum and have you use your hand to finish." You pouted, bouncing a little, chipping away at his sanity.

"You can't be serious-" He groaned when a hand of yours reached down to rub your clit in slow circles, but he could feel you clench around him in pleasure.

You grabbed his face with one hand, fingers slightly squishing into his cheek. Your grip was much more gentle than his, but it surprised him nonetheless, "Now, now, be good." You trailed your fingers that had previously been on your clit to his mouth, "Think about it." You whispered as he took your fingers in his mouth, licking messily to taste you as much as he could, "You wanna cum inside me? Fill me up nice and full? Make me your pretty little bitch?" The profanity only made his eyes roll back as he lathed his tongue over your digits and nodded. You ripped your fingers from his mouth and a whine bubbled in his throat, making you smile that beautiful smile he loved so dearly, "So beg me, sweetheart."

He was losing patience and control, "Please, bunny, ride me." He muttered.

"What was that, pet?" You provoked a glare from him with a sly smile.

"I need to fill you up, my pretty bunny." He rasped as you began moving slowly, "Please, I need you." The whine in his voice pushed your hips at a quicker pace that made him throw his head back against the pillow and moan.

"Sound so pretty for me." You cooed with a shaky voice as you found your high approaching way quicker than you expected, your sex feeling the effects of teasing Jungkook as long as you did, "I'm not gonna last long." There was a breathless chuckle in your voice that made his heart melt.

"Cum for me, baby." He groaned, "Fuck, I want you to cum nice and pretty for me and I'll fill you up." He wanted so badly to thrust his hips up and make you fall apart but as your nails dug into his skin while you cried out his name, he couldn't help the gratification of having the girl he admired ride him so desperately.

Seeing this needy and sweet Jungkook was more than enough to send you over the edge as you called his name with a scream while you fell apart. It didn't take long for him to follow you into the depths of desire.

Minutes later, you've untied him and collapsed on top of him with heaving breaths, "You know when I catch my breath, you're gonna get it, right?" He breathed and you looked up at him tiredly with a pout.

"Do you know how hard it was trying to control you?" You accused, "Cut me some slack."

He chuckled and it was one of your favorite songs, "Imagine how I feel with how much of a brat you are."

You gasped in fake offense and went to smack his chest but he grabbed your hand and used the leverage to flip you both over and capture you in a deep kiss. His stamina was really no joke.

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