#also please give feed back

[noodlesha]

Fair Play (2023) - Just some thoughts.

DISCLAIMER - I want to give a disclaimer as this film does deal with SA and I will be discussing it, so please feel free to skip this one if this topic isn't for you, but I will give a warning if you would still like to read.

So, a couple of days ago I watched this film which was on my ‘to watch’ list for AGES, Fair Play which was directed and written by Chloe Domont (we LOVE a female writer/director), and it was so captivating the whole way through. The way this film got me invested in a hedge fund is mind-blowing because it became so much less about what the job was and more about the character dynamics – this could’ve truly been in any setting, and I would’ve watched this. I will be discussing spoilers so if you haven’t already, PLEASE go and watch the film, if you love films that discuss a complex dynamic between men and women, I think you’ll enjoy this one.

-

I truly appreciated how the film depicted women in power, particularly within a relationship, the movie starts with a very happy couple that have become recently engaged (Emily and Luke), and they work for the same hedge fund company where they keep their relationship a secret. Something we’re shown very early on is men and their reaction toward their failures – when their manager gets fired at the beginning, we see the man destroy his office in a fit of rage, yelling that the company needs him and that it is their fault and not his. We see this foreshadowed in Luke further into the film, but we’ll discuss that later.

After their ex-manager’s explosion, there are rumours around the office that Luke got the promotion in which we see Emily’s face as she hears this, and through the audience we see how she reacts positively to this information, you know as any NORMAL human would (I’m looking at you Luke…). Emily tells Luke without a hint of malice or jealousy; she is simply happy for her significant other in this moment.

However, when Emily gets called in to drink with a colleague, she’s surprised to find her boss gives her the promotion instead of Luke. We smash cut to Emily in the car and she tells Luke that she got the promotion instead, whom facilitates a VERY different reaction to the news and is stooped but eventually congratulates her. Not without asking if their boss had touched her, of course, because obviously women just can’t get a promotion because she’s good.

It’s from then we see this couple spiral out of love and become vastly different people than they started. Emily starts to earn a lot more than Luke does, she offers to take him out to dinner, she ends up coming home late, even goes to a strip club which fully blurs the line of gender dynamics and the idea of ‘masculinity’. Her success at work is shown through Luke’s myopic view of what a man should be like, and even challenges our view of what a successful woman looks like – when success is relegated by a male perspective, can it hinder our view of a successful woman?

When another PM is fired, we see Luke beg for the job only for the position to be filled within an instant by someone else (I thought this was hilarious by the way) and Emily tells him that instead of promoting him, their boss was considering firing him. Which speaks a lot to the fact that he was doing so terribly that his boss was going to fire him, and yet he was just so sure that he deserved that promotion (typical am I right?). It’s then where Luke goes missing, only to return to do the one thing he can think of to make Emily feel as he does – embarrassed. So, he reveals their relationship in the hopes that it gets her fired (which it does not) and publicly shames her in front of important clients.

Okay so I’m going to talk about the scene in which Emily is R-worded by Luke so please skip this paragraph if need be. This scene arrives when Luke has well and truly fired from their firm, and unbeknownst to Emily’s parents they put on an engagement party not aware of the tensions between the two. In this scene, we feel Emily’s rage and her nervousness to see Luke, he has completely transformed over the film, mind you in a very realistic manner. When Emily confronts Luke, we see his true feelings towards their situation, when he argues that she offered sexual favours to their boss, and in response she smashes a bottle over his head (rightly so). It’s then that she runs away to the bathroom where he follows, and they continue to argue before they start to engage in… acts – which parallels when we first meet them in the scene at his brother’s wedding party (in that scene they face each other, however in this scene Luke controls Emily). However, Luke starts to get rough with Emily, and she tells him to stop but he doesn’t and slams her down into the sink, leaving a massive bruise on her face.

Now, I’ve never liked it when films contain an R-word scene, particularly as it feels incredibly obtrusive, and while it gives the desired reaction (discomfort), it is also viewed through a male gaze most of the time where we focus on the brutality the MAN is giving rather than how the WOMAN feels in this matter. And in this scene, it’s a shame that it doesn’t seem like the latter; I just think I’m of the majority of people who feel that these types of scenes aren’t needed and it could’ve been portrayed a lot better – I also find it interesting that people reviewing the film tend to leave out this scene, instead calling it a ‘sexy’ or ‘erotic’ thriller, which just feels very pedantic in a way.

The next scene shows Emily covering her bruise and telling her boss at the hedge fund that Luke was a crazy stalker, whom she did date but became out of control. We see then the boss doesn’t care, because Emily is worth keeping there. When she returns to her apartment, Luke is there who appears nonchalant about what happened and tells Emily that he’s staying at his brother’s. Emily, enraged by this, demands he apologises for assaulting her and attacking him until he cries and begs for forgiveness for him (she is also in this scene towering over him and he is sprawled on the floor and I guess you could argue mimics her assault in some way). As his blood is spilled on the floor, the film ends with her telling him to clean it up.

I remember watching this film and thinking that it was really odd that it showed Emily getting her period a few times, particularly at the beginning, but after seeing the whole thing, it made more sense. The idea of a period is something quite powerful, when we think of blood spilling, I think we most associate that with violence and domination, which also coincides with a period cycle. The idea that people who deal with periods, spill blood monthly but it is not deemed as powerful. So when at the climactic end of the film when Emily slashes Luke and spills his blood (and makes him clean it up, what a queen); Domont had created this connection of a woman being innately powerful.

So overall, this film was really something, I ended up enjoying a lot more than I thought I would, and while it does have some faults, it brings a very interesting topic through a very sleek and stylish manner. I would love to see what Domont does next.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

not really an ask but MY SIBLING DREW YOUR FAIRY FANART!!!!!!!!!

we both love her

AAAA IT’S FAIRY!!!!!

[direwombat]

two picrews and a uquiz

tagged by @inafieldofdaisies, @cassietrn, and @voidika to do one or more of these picrews

Picrew 1 // Picrew 2

and/or to do this uquiz! which hozier song is your oc?

took this one twice because there were a few qs where syb could go either way on

TAKE ME TO CHURCH. ah, religious trauma. i feel you. but i think you're really brave to try to find something real, even if it doesn't look like what your family thinks it should. also, you have the sexiest song of them all, so uh. good for you ;)

IT WILL COME BACK. why is it so hard to stay away? you might have a tendency to get addicted. and it makes sense. if you've always been starving, then any scraps look like a feast. but you really do deserve better than this. i hope you treat yourself with kindness.

tagging: @jillvalentinesday, @purplehairsecretlair, @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman, @madparadoxum, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @locustandwildhoney, @testyfestyenthusiast, @strangefable, @alexxmason, @deputyash, @josephslittledeputy, and anyone else wanting to do one or more of these! (to be added/removed from the list for tag games, like/reply to this post!)

[nicoscheer]

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Outfit on Point 👌🏽

NOOO he looks so soft 🫠🫠😭😭and yes fucking finally glasses on 💅

Holy shit YES

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Opinions on Dream? :^

SO many feelings about him omgg rant under cut please forgive me

okay so i don't really talk or draw him much cause honestly,,,most of the times i just think he's a bit....boring? or more accurately plain? not in a mean way either but just in a 'fades into the background' type of way like don't get me wrong!! he's a really nice friend to his peers, his feelings about his powers and aura making his relationships harder to navigate and trust along with his whole conflict with nightmare and morality about what's good and bad IS very cool!! and i love it whenever they write him to be complex and not on this black and white mentality or when he's just straight up following along his friends with no free will or with a dubious purpose without ever addressing his issues or feelings! it's just unsatisfying to me :')

or when they're making him the 'naive' and oblivious, (sometimes childish?) character being marked as the obstacle and villain along with the other star sanses from the fic's pov, always talking about doing good things while fighting his brother and not hearing him out about the balance, (and for weak reasons most of the time. like it's been so long and you STILL haven't sat down with him when he's, generally, basically begged you to just have a talk? guys please :'( ) or when they go for the victim sad dream always missing the old nightmare, where corrupted nightmare is the incarnation of evil, with no sympathy or emotion except anger and sadistic glee, killing and hurting everyone and dream's just trying to protect the multiverse and dream's always been in the right. such extremes!!!

LIKE!! i hope i'm not the only one that thinks a 500+ year old should have had enough time to idk. learn things? about people and manipulation and deceit? after knowing what the villagers did to night? about the bad things in the world and how there's a lot of grey areas in life and that he maybe reflected on his past enough to process and ask himself if there should to be a convo to settle his differences with nightmare (and you can make nightmare the stubborn one too! or have them BOTH be petty and imperfect and have some things wrong and some right at the same time like why do i always see the good guy vs bad guy cliché with these two when they're the perfect example of why positivity doesn't have meaning without the negativity!! as long as there's a satisfying evolution or growth that doesn't leave me empty i'm good yknow?)

plus i believe dream really isn't as dumb as people view him. i do get some of you saying he probably can't read or write since that's actually a pretty interesting idea to explore! but in general please let him have emotions other than pure sunshiny happiness or endless sadness like he's gotta have more depth than that! let him make mistakes, have flaws that don't just make him the bad guy that's always in the wrong by default, and be angry or suspicious or jealous or bitter or battling his mental health problems/depression or malicious or smart or witty or mischievous and silly or sarcastic or ANYTHING dude i just want him to be put into different scenarios where he can be serious or lighthearted like it doesn't even have to be long or perfect but make him feel real.

it could definitely be that i don't read or see much art about dream or really look for it hard enough but also i just. i feel bad for even saying this fr and i wanna be honest about why i don't enjoy most stories about him cause he always gets the worst treatment along with ink!!! especially ink omg the poor guy has it the worst i think like wow do they mess him up :'(

always one dimensional in non shippy fics, or too plain or easily replaceable by other, more entertaining people in the significant other's life in most of his ships like man. i have read fics out there that made me genuinely FEEL and root for him and love his character so much it restored all hope for me!!! but i can only name one on top of my head and the others? it's been so long i don't even remember their names i just legit feel terrible cause i love him still and i can't find many headcanons that fit my interpretation of him yknow?

not to say people who write him very happy, mislead or sad are ruining him like that's silly- if i see something i don't like i just. move on bro i wouldn't force people to feel or think the same way i do about him cause anyone can have whatever headcanons they want!!! just talking about what i personally look for in him and why i can't exactly find it since most of the stuff out there just isn't my cup of tea :')

hopefully i didn't set anyone off with this rambling opinionated essay i just pulled hhh xD i know i know he's a popular character and i know a lot of people like dream so *sobs* please please recommend me artists and fics about him that you think is good it's been so looong since i've read or seen anything new that makes me attached to this little guy aughg<33333

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[asexual-vampire]

Look I love tits as much as the next guy but I personally cannot get into any super sized megabadonkers stuff bc at a certain point all I can think is "oh god her poor back"

[raredrop]

the removing of profile pics doesnt even make sense if ur trying to be twitter bc twitter still has pfps?

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟷........... THE STRONGEST ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: its midday and your clingy-ass boyfriend—gojo satoru—should be hard at work right getting rid of these doppels not knocking at your door—gotta be a fake... right?! classifications: bimbo!reader (canonverse of otaku!gojo's bunny!reader), yandere-esque Gojo, nipple play, recorded sex, lots of sex toys, dirty talk, panty theft, extreme overstim + slight omorashi. incidents: 4.4k .......shout outs to @yung-notorious for beta-ing some of this!

*knock-knock-knock-knock-knock*

Rapid, insistent knocks interrupt your laughter as you chat with friends, carefully brushing a fresh coat of polish onto your toes. You weren’t expecting anyone, but the familiar, overly enthusiastic rhythm—knocking out the tune of Rick Astley’s "Never Gonna Give You Up"—leaves no doubt who it is.

Satoru.

You sigh.

Although you haven’t seen Gojo much lately and are usually happy to see him, his timing this time irritates you for a couple reasons—first, of course he’d interrupt right in the middle of your much-needed girl time! You were desperate to hang with your friends again, especially after being stuck in lockdown for the last 2 weeks.

There was some juicy tea getting spilled on the call too! 

More importantly, you weren't in a hurry to get up from the sofa—especially with your freshly painted white toes you’d propped up on the coffee table to dry. The last thing you wanted was to ruin them by getting dust on them while answering the door when Gojo wasn’t even supposed to be here right now.

“BBL, y’all.”

Reluctantly ending the call, you switched over to your Ring camera app. 

Sure enough, the security feed loads to reveal Gojo, grinning up at the camera with his glasses perched on the brim of his nose and a large pink shopping bag in hand.

Huh? There’s no way he’s off-work already! 

Taking note of the time it reads 1:30 p.m. confirming that Jujutsu society’s strongest sorcerer is skipping out on work, again—pshh typical. 

“C’mon babe, let me in!”

Urgh, what was he even doing here?! 

Shouldn���t he be the one leading the charge to kill all the doppelgängers? The faster he exorcized them, the sooner you’d finally be able to go outside again.

This doppelgänger outbreak felt like covid quarantine all over and it sucked! 

Satoru needed to get his ass back to work so you wouldn’t waste the best years of your life cooped up inside!

“Go away, doppelgänger!”

You use the intercom feature to speak to Gojo, still not budging from the sofa.

Gojo pouts.

“But it's me, baby! Open the door Bunny bae, please I missed you princess—it’s been too long!”

Satoru’s annoyingly pretty baby blues look even bigger as he pleads into the camera, his lip quivering, making you roll your eyes.

It’s barely been 48 hrs since you’ve last seen him and he still blows up your texts all day! 

But the world’s strongest sorcerer was also the world’s clingiest—so you suppose his doppelgänger would be too. Although, you were pretty sure this was the real deal, that still didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him shit for skipping out on work.

“Huh, that’s funny because there's no way you could be my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, the strongest—and the one who is supposed to be making sure I’m not stuck in the house for another 2 years. It’s been freaking 2 weeks already Toru, I’m going batshit in here!”

Pushing his glasses back in place Gojo hides his scoff, standing up straight. 

Shit.

He hopes you aren’t onto him. 

Sure, he could have contained this whole thing in a few days tops.

Despite the doppelgänger ability to mimic appearances and cursed energy patterns, Gojo’s Six Eyes could see right through it easily. His power allowed him to perceive the core of a soul with perfect clarity, instantly distinguishing the souls of a human and a curse.

But instead of resolving the problem quickly, Gojo made up all kinds of excuses to you (and especially to the higher-ups) about why it was taking longer than expected. 

The truth was, simple though—for once, just this once, he decided he had earned the right to be selfish.

Not having met you until after the covid quarantine, Gojo had never experienced that kind of isolation with you—and was immensely jealous that your last boyfriend had. Now that he had a taste of it, there was nothing he wanted more than to keep his lil bun-bun safely caged up, waiting for his return everyday (and he did try to make it back everyday).

Okay, so he is in fact being really selfish.

Luckily for everyone else though, most of these doppelgänger  curses are relatively harmless other than causing absolute chaos with their mere existence alone—unfortunately they could also be seen by people even lacking cursed energy.

Gojo took care of the stronger ones, the ones with more nefarious intentions, while letting the little ones continue to run loose—all so he could have you to himself. 

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo is intentionally sentencing you to what seems like a never ending cycle of boredom so that when he finally gets home you cling to him like a grain of sweet sticky rice. So eager for any external stimuli or interaction you’d be up for all manner of his perversions you’d normally shoot him down for.

That didn’t mean you weren’t still a brat though, making him work for it—something that Gojo also noted was his fault though for spoiling you rotten, not being able to deny you anything. So you pretend to be annoyed when he showed up, but Gojo knew the truth—those thick thighs of yours would soon have your slick running down. Your cute, slutty lil pussy dripping would start dripping the moment you’d hear his voice.

Yeah, yeah, he’d get rid of those things eventually—but Gojo was going to enjoy this quarantine with you for a bit longer. 

“Even the strongest need a break baby! I need my sweet lil’ energizer Bunny to recharge my batteries, eh?”

You crinkle up your nose seeing him wiggle his eyebrows on camera. 

He's such a dorky cornball.

“And this break…it’s approved by Yaga, hm?” Gojo whines at your questioning, not wanting you to deny him any longer nor throw technicalities in his face he didn’t wanna have to answer.

“Come on, Bunny! I even brought you real nice gifts to show you how much I missed you!”

The hot pink shopping bag sways in front of the camera, Gojo dangling it as if it were supposed to be a tempting treat. 

But he’d have to do better than some generic pink shopping bag to impress you!

You’ve gone back to your toenails, starting to apply the top coat while you let him squirm out there for a while longer. You knew he could break the barrier in the blink of an eye but you also knew that he was a big enough baby to want you to let him in on your own. 

Well tough luck brah.

“That sure doesn’t look like a Chanel shopping bag, Toru!”

“Um, that’s cause it’s not—Bunny you told me you don’t even like me picking you out clothes anymore!”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes—of course you said that as whenever Gojo picked something out for you, it ended up being the most scandalous or over-the-top piece in the store. How he would even managed that at a classy brand like Chanel, you had no idea. (Though, little do you know, in reality, he always acted they were ready-to-wear while they were custom-made—just for you.)

“I got us some toys, baby bun! Don’t you wanna play with me?”

You don’t need to ask him ‘what kind of toys’ from the goofy ass expression that is on his face. 

“That’s not making me want to let you in at all, Doru!”  

“Hah? Wha—Doru!?”

“Yeah, short for Dopple-Toru.”

You try to keep a straight face but can’t help giggling as you sneak a peek at your phone, still putting on as if you're completely ignoring him. His expression on the camera is priceless though and you wish you could snap a screenshot of his mouth wide open, glasses nearly sliding off, looking utterly incredulous.

“Hey! Come on, Bunny bae, that's not funny! I know you know it’s me—and I also know your pretty pussy misses me!” 

Oh knew, it was your perv ass boyfriend and yeah you did miss him—but you missed your freedom more! And for that reason you are gonna make him think twice before trying to skip out on work again. Not to mention, for having the nerve to show up once you finally found something interesting to stave away your boredom other than him!

“Hmm, I don’t know—prove it then, Doru…”

While Gojo loves goading you into playing games and usually lets you win them too, after nearly 48 ‘grueling hours’ away from you, all he wants now is to simply relax in your company. Ya know, nothing too crazy, just the typical cuddles with him calmly resting his face on your titties while his cock nestles deep up against your cervix—just something casual.

Gojo calling your bluff, ups the ante.

“Heh, kay…”

You’re actually not paying attention this time, admiring your work on your toes and contemplating on the color you should paint your fingernails as Gojo goes silent for a moment. 

Yet once you hear a loud zip, the rustling of fabric, and a belt clank to the ground your eyes practically bulge out of your head as you grab your phone, bringing it comically close to your face while blinking multiple times just to be sure. 

Satoru quite literally has dick and balls out, dangling in the breeze, in front of the entire goddamn neighborhood!

And despite your initial horror and best efforts to remain upset, you pause, your inner slut causing a slight brain malfunction—as even from the small ring camera you can see his deliciously thick cock bobbing fully erect while his mushroomy tip shamelessly drips viscous globs of pre onto your welcome mat.

Thankfully your short-circuiting of common sense only lasts a few seconds before it starts functioning again.

“TORU HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING SUGAR-FUELED MIND!? YOU KNOW THE HOA IS ONE MORE INCIDENT AWAY FROM KICKING ME OUT, RIGHT!?”

Sighing, you groan in dismay as you’ve been on thin ice with your HOA for a while now because of Gojo. 

Not only have you received the most noise complaints in the neighborhood by far, but he also made ‘alterations’ to your home by installing unsanctioned rows of cypress trees. Claiming it was a safety precaution to block the view inside your home from your ‘sketchy neighbors.’ He also ever so obnoxiously takes up 2 parking spots on the street so no one could even “park too close to scratch his Benz” and even sometimes double parked in front of your neighbors house when all the street parking was taken.

You would most definitely be kicked out if anyone in the neighborhood saw all of Gojo’s fairly large bits and pieces freely on display.

And yeah, Gojo did know that. 

He also knew if you got kicked out and had to move you’d have no excuse then not to move-in with him.

Where else would you be able to stay on such short notice? He soon turn that temporary situation into a more permanent one too.

Finally leaping to your feet, you practically trip over yourself—all thoughts of preserving your polish forgotten—as you sprint to the front door.

You can’t get there fast enough, yet as soon as you do, you don't hesitate to lower the barrier and fling the door open.

“Hey sweetn—”

Cutting him off, you grab Gojo by his collar and yank him inside before slamming the door shut behind you.

But you don’t get a chance to scold him. The moment you turn to face him, your lips suddenly meet his, and his large frame envelops yours into a warm embrace.

Your first instinct is to push him away, but even when meeting your furious eyes he just grins knowingly—twirling his pointer finger in the air above him. You frown, confused, until it hits you—Gojo has set up another barrier over your own.

No one could have seen him, but he’d let you believe that so you’d let him in faster.

Urgh, Toru is far too crafty for his own damned good.

It's your turn to pout now, having clearly lost this round badly. 

But Gojo doesn’t let the expression linger—his mouth is hot and hungry on yours again in an instant. Your soft lips are easily parted by his thumb as he slows to tease his way past your lips to glide his silken tongue into your mouth causing him to sigh—you taste sweeter than any candy to him.

The kiss soon turns more passionate as the strokes of his tongue flick longingly over yours, devouring you as he skillfully melts away your anger—in addition to all the bones in your legs. Reduced to a puddle of goo you completely forget you were just about to cuss him out as your legs now press together from the throbbing between your thighs. Your need becoming more agonizing as you grow dizzy from the lack of air.

When Gojo finally lets you breathe again, he chuckles at your dazed expression. Your lids are lowered and you press your body deeper into his own, clutching onto his collar as you nestle your face into his neck, savoring his scent washing over you. 

“So despite all that sass, I take it you actually missed me then?”

You nod eagerly against his skin, in spite of yourself. Even though he isn’t supposed to be here right now, you can’t hold back any longer how happy you are to see him.

“And my pretty Bunny girl is going to let me play with her now?—All of her?”

You gasp as Gojo does not wait for an answer before slipping a hand into your shorts. Hissing at your heat, Gojo swipes his thumb over the outer folds of your cunt and his fingers quickly are becoming soaked before they even got the chance to get up inside you.

Placing a chaste kiss on your temple Gojo's agile fingers had merely confirmed what he already knew: You’re utterly drenched—his needy, cute lil’ pussy was quite literally begging for him and who was he to deny her?

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

“F—Fuck! P-pussy too good. Keep the phone up though, nice and straight Bunny! T-That’s it, you’re the best! SHIIIIT— n’you got the cutest sluttiest lil cunny! C-Can you get a close up of how well my cock is digging out your pretty lil’ bunny hole?”

“Mmmgh!”

Gojo’s filthy words and his even filthier fat cock are bringing you closer to your ecstasy filled ruin as they push you past your limits, engorged veins scraping your walls with every thrust. You're covered in sweat and your entire body buzzes—quite literally as there are vibrating clamps suctioned onto each of your nipples. 

Mmmm, it all was driving you wild!

Not imagining yourself in this position when you woke up this morning at all.

Especially as initially, when Gojo said he bought toys, you thought he had meant fuzzy handcuffs, silken ropes or maybe even some more of that warm edible candle wax that tastes like strawberries—but all this!? 

You could barely see out of your bleary, tear-filled eyes completely caking your cheeks in streaks of your mascara that while supposedly waterproof, definitely is not Gojo Satoru proof. 

In addition to the mind-numbing bliss radiating off your swollen perky buds, your body was covered in some sort of edible oily slick. The warmth was initially similar to that of candle wax—yet morphed into anything but. This time the heat was coming from the flames your own body generated as the effects of the candied warming oil made every part of you saturated in the fluid buzz with need. 

Of course, after soaking your body with it down the tips of your toes and paying extra attention to your nipples, Gojo had been thoughtful enough to pour the most of the remaining bottle over your throbbing lil’ clit. 

Except now there isn’t just a shallow throb between your legs as the fiery sensation of every individual nerve in your cunt was cries out for him to ruin you harder. 

Your legs are wrapped around him impossibly tight as your heels dig into the small of his back and yet somehow, he still manages to snake a hand between your slippery bodies to pet his favorite girly spot on you—your clit. Toying with the swollen nub in a painfully slow manner compared to the intensified thrashing of his hips against your own. 

The motions only serve to push the heart-shaped platinum and pink sapphire adorned butt plug deeper into your ass with every loud vulgar smack of your wet bodies joining—the strange feeling of it jostling against the very walls his cock was drilling has you drooling as Gojo further tests the limits of passion he can push over.   

“C’mon Bunny, you're going to miss the best part, ya better capture it really well how much squirt I can pump out of this cute cunny—or we’ll simply just have to do another take. Not that I’d mind spending all day in your pussy…”

You're not in your right mind to scold him for trying to skip out on more work and you certainly don't have the full capacities to hold his phone up any better—what with your hands were tied together over your head to the bed. Gojo utilizing the fuzzy cuffs afterall.

You can’t even really see if you are getting the right angle as you desperately hold onto the device, keeping it straight and upright lest it slip and drop right on your head. 

“Always such a good girl for me huh, princess?”

Tuh—like he was giving you a choice!

You're unable to clap back though as your tongue, so lax from all the pleasure, sinks back to the roof of your mouth. The slobber gathered pools past your lips, over your chin, down your neck to your tits and Gojo is eager to slurp the train up your body and back to your lips, kissing you. 

It goes without saying, but Gojo in ‘director’ mode is absolutely diabolical. 

The reason being needs the perfect footage of him playing in your guts to make sure he had good enough material to fap to if you wanted him to spend more time away from you while he hunted down the doppel-curses.

“Be good for me a bit longer, ‘kay baby?”

Yet his gentle coos don’t match his demeanor. 

Glasses long discarded, Gojo’s own blue eyes looked crazed. He’s unconcerned with the sweat matting his hair to the sides of his face or the wave of slick your pussy splashes onto his taut abs. Abs are shuddering from just how tight of a hold your pussy has on him—working him overtime as his heavy pants soon twist into deranged lil whines.

“M-Me and my lil’ buddy missed our two girls so, so, s-sooo much—AH-HAH-F-FAHHHCK! G-Gotta show ya just how much!” 

Shamelessly, Gojo had dubbed his cock—his little buddy—the joke that would have emasculated some men but Gojo made it intentionally with the irony that he was anything but little.

“T-They were made for each other baby—lil’ buddy and the wet pretty girl between these thighs, yeah?”

The ham that he is, Gojo always sounds extra insane whenever a camera is recording, howling with amusement when he watches the playbacks. Yet in this very moment, he was as serious as a heart attack—and you definitely weren't laughing as your weeping pussy gets pounded into deeper into ecstasy filled oblivion. 

“Shhh—Stawwp, S’toruuuuu!”

Tsk, you still could form a coherent thought?  

That simply wouldn’t do for Gojo who is working so hard and bought all these new toys to see you come completely undone—and he needed you too soon as he wouldn’t last much longer in your squishy gooey core himself—not how your cunt was holding him in the wettest sluttiest lil hug. 

There's still one item left that he hadn't used yet though, that in trying to keep up his sleeve he'd nearly forgotten about entirely—his own brain quickly leaving itself on simmer by your greedy lil’ pussy sucking him in so sloppy.

Slightly changing your position for more leverage, he throws one of your legs on his shoulder slotting himself between your cushy thighs while he straddles the other leg. Fucking you sideways with increasing intensity from the bruising grip on your hips pulling your pelvis towards on him as he meets your thrusts smacking directly into your cervix.

“Heh, I know what will finish you off! Ya ready to cum baby? Squirt all on this dick you love so much, eh Bunny?—Yeah ya fuckin' will.”

When you don’t answer right away Gojo delivers a harsh slap directly on your clit, the moisture causing the increased sting to intensify sending your senses into a state of floating. Yet, bringing you back to reality, another harsh smack lands on your cunt and you jerk against your restraints, nearly dropping the phone on your face for real this time.

You don’t understand what he's saying to you but you not regardless, eyes rolling back into your head—every single pore on your skin submerged in pleasure. Completely unaware, you don’t hear the additional buzz of the final toy until you feel its silicone lips latching onto your clit while the rigid faux tongue juts back and forth across your bud.

Eyes practically leaving your skull for the second time today, everything flashes white, blinding you even with your eyes wide open. A scream so guttural it comes out silent, the ball of tension in you finally bursting as releases flushes through your entire body.

Cumming harder than you ever had before, you just let go completely, gushing around Gojo’s thick cock still pistoning in your now drenched pussy. The splash zone from your cunt is quite a bit more than usual as a giant warm wet spot begins to soil and expand underneath you both.

Ears ringing, Gojo sounds a million miles away as you hear him chattering on about something—the phone?

You wiggle your fingers, realizing you must have dropped it, but you’re still clueless about what has him so excited—until Gojo’s voice finally slices through your haze, yelling out in absolute wonderment—

“HOLY SHIT BABY, DID YOU JUST PISS ON ME??? MMM FUCK ME FOR REAL!?—SHIT! YOU WETTER THAN A WATER PARK BUNNY—SO FUCKIN NASTY! PLEASEEEEEE PLEASEEEE TELL ME YOU GOT THAT ON CAMERA!”

Suddenly, it dawned on you that when you had let go, you had quite literally let it all go. 

You could die—and if you could muster the strength to move you surely would have raced out to the backyard to quickly dig yourself a whole to do just that in. Yet that clearly would not an acceptable conclusion for your degenerate perv of a boyfriend who is acting like a sinner saved—praising pussy like a newly reborn evangelist baptized in the essence of your erotic filth. 

His elation is simple as he figures how much you really had to trust him to be able to let go and lose yourself to him to that extent—now he wants to lose himself to you as well.

Easily drowning all inside your sloshing pussy like he never swam—Gojo doesn't stop, your pissing only encourages him to fuck himself further into a pussy drunk state to rival your own cock-induced stupor.

Yet, somehow he still maintains enough control to effectively lavish praises for how naughty and shameless your lil pussy is. 

The frenzy drives him directly to his nut, eyes dilate further and slobber frothes past his lips while spearing his cock into you with renewed vigor. Whimpering and stuttering his words and hips alike.  Gojo presses your leg draped across him back against you to be sandwiched between the two of you as leans forward to further ravage your swollen kiss bitten lips again. 

Twisting you up like a pretzel and near the point of passing out from overstimulation you his insane joyous laughter sounds miles away as he topples over his peak pumping ropes of his vicious cum—that he’d been saving up for all you over the last two days—into your battered creamy core. 

Gojo’s thrusts begin to slow but he’s in your guts just as far pushing cockhead right against your cervix stealing your lips into another fiery kiss.

Once Gojo finally lets you breathe air again, you’re completely out of it, the dopey blushing smile on your face. The embarrassment from pissing all over him is completely forgotten as hearts all for him linger in your eyes.

Sex with Toru was never dull to say the very least.

“There you go, there’s my good girl, huh Bunny? Not bored anymore baby?”

Gojo smirks down at you knowingly while peppering your face with sweet loving kisses as you’re steadily drifting off, allowing every exhausted nerve to claim you.

It's still a good minute before Gojo slides out of you, seeinghis discarded phone next to you—it's still recording. A mischevous smile plays on his lips.

Wanting to capture the aftermath of his handiwork, Gojo sweeps the phone across your body, thumbing off moisture from your dewy soft skin soiled with warming oil and sweat. Making sure to linger longer on your lightly heaving chest and the sporadic quiver of your thighs.

Zooming in even closer, Gojo’s two long fingers to part your swollen lips open, admiring more of his work—his masterpiece that was the copious amounts of cum and piss dribbling out of your abused lil’ hole down to the crack of your ass. 

Now Gojo really has a dilemma—he wants to keep filming you as his cum, ever so slowly, trickles out of you. He thinks this scene would make the perfect time-lapse of the creamy sap seeping from your cunt like sugar maple. But he’s also fighting the urge to also suck all the creaminess out of you himself—the cum rimming around your puckered lower hole tempting him to Gojo start there and slurp and suck his way up your clit. 

Truly, he never gets enough of how his taste mingles with yours—and he’s quite curious to know how the additional waterworks will add to your delectable flavor. 

You were so fucking filthy and so willing to try new things all thanks to this doppel quarantine causing you to make this big a mess in the first place.

God he needed this.

More. 

He had to have more from you. 

Gojo couldn’t possibly bring this all to an end anytime soon.  Cooing against your inner thigh Gojo makes a promise to your cunt.

“Heh, don't worry pretty girl, I'ma give you six more months of quarantine at least! Can't wait to—” 

“—TORU, ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW!?!?”

Whoops.

Yeah he definitely thought you were already fast asleep—teehee.

......RESULT: PASSED 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍—𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

comment and reblog! next up toji, already finished posting—10/20

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

one way; cbg

part i | part ii | part iii

🖊️⇝ pairing; afab!reader x beomgyu

🖊️⇝ word count; 17.3k

🖊️⇝ genre; enemies 2 lovers, smut, & angst

🖊️⇝synopsis; things have gotten much more complicated in a relationship that spawned from simplicity

🖊️⇝ warnings; thoughts of suicide and murder, brief descriptions of gore, PIV, balls in mouth, lots of kissing, not super smut heavy, manipulation, betrayal, descriptions of depression, assault (the usual), passionate sex, the l bomb

📜⇝ aw man, this is very BITTERsweet. Idk how I feel about this. Ask me in a week and I'll either love or hate it. I didn't go into part one expecting to flesh out their relationship, so please forgive me if this long awaited finale doesn't reach your expectations. I am happy to finally say it's finished though!!

You didn’t remind Beomgyu of anyone. Maybe before you started having sex, that’s why he was so sure. He felt like he was experiencing deja vu from how similar you were to those groupies. Just awkward, quirky, and harmless. You’re only here to do your job and just happened to become friends with this celebrity. The romantic feelings that developed, oh those are to be expected. Of course you fell in love! But if another handsome, famous fella came around and was willing… that love is suddenly conditional.

But then you were letting Beomgyu bite your lip and rip your clothes off, you were shoving your tongue down his throat and letting him fuck you in every conceivable position. While still remaining kind and loyal to Soobin.

You were even open about the things Beomgyu did to you. You didn’t care how it made you look or if it would scare the others off. You didn’t present it as this passionate sexy moment, but the clumsy and somewhat comical situation it was. You were comfortable with them. Letting them see the real you even if it wasn’t exactly attractive. Maybe Beomgyu was wrong about you.

Then he’d catch these glimpses. Moments where he really saw Hyesoo in you. Everyone would be laughing and then suddenly you’d bring up a recent accomplishment of Soobin’s. It seemed weird to shift mid-conversation to boost him up. But when Beomgyu looked around, no one else saw anything wrong with it. He was hyper analyzing you and he was trying to stop. It was hard not to think about Hyesoo period, but with a new woman cozied up in their dorm it was even harder.

When you’d hit Soobin’s arm while laughing, buy only him snacks and drinks, laugh at his jokes harder than anyone else, fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. No matter how much he tried to stop himself, he couldn’t stop thinking you were buttering him up. Locking him in.

Here he was, staying up until 5 am dwelling on every thought that enters his brain. He lays stagnant in your bed, staring at the ceiling but really at nothing at all. His head flops to the side and he catches a glimpse of your peaceful expression. His eyes track down to your arms curled around his bicep. He looks back up at the ceiling with a lengthy sigh. 

He needs to leave.

It started with him staying a little longer to eat up the food in your fridge. You staying to chat with some of the guys. Him staying to help clean up the vase that fell and shattered during your ministrations. You staying to clean yourself off and mentioning that maybe he should bring by a few spare items of clothing in case he wants to shower at your place. Now both of you have clothes at the other’s house and he’s spending the night.

He could dwell on everything he should or shouldn’t be doing right now or he could stop fighting how the warmth of your presence is lulling him to sleep.

–🖊️⇝

Beomgyu wakes up in the absence of your warmth. If his memory serves him correctly, you’re off to practice by now. He can’t help feeling pathetic as everyone rushes off to their duties while he lounges around. He only has one month left of his suspension before he’s back on the grind. He wants to just enjoy it, but the loneliness of it all after years of constantly being surrounded by hoards of people was undeniably crushing. The people he does see are usually rushing around before leaving him in an empty house.

He slumps out of your room and is hit with the scent of freshly made toast. He spots you in the kitchen, rushing around with a piece of toast dangling from your teeth. Upon seeing Beomgyu your eyes widen, brows raising as you prompt him.

“D’you like butter on your toast? Actually, don’t say anything, I’m doing it.” Your speech is muffled until you take a bite and set the piece down. When Beomgyu finally reaches the kitchen he sees you sloppily slathering butter onto two extra pieces of toast. You place them on a small plate before pushing it toward him. You quickly steal another bite of your toast before scowling at him. “You better not leave a mess for me to clean up.”

Once you finish chewing you’re still maintaining eye contact with Beomgyu. He stares intently, and you wonder if he’s still groggy from just waking up. Then his eyes break away to the state of your hair. He gives another second of thought before sweeping the unruly strands into place.

“You’re going outside, where people will see you.” He tsks.

“Said people should mind their business.” You punctuate by tearing off a chunk of your toast, maintaining eye contact pointedly. You throw the matching jacket to your sweatpants over your shoulder. “Lock my door before you leave!”

As the door shuts, the sound echoing through the now empty apartment, Beomgyu feels hyper aware of how much empty space surrounds him where he stands. The loneliness looms over him, a reminder no matter where he goes. He may joke around, but Beomgyu tries not to whine about his problems. It feels especially inappropriate since you were in this same situation, bound to this apartment with a suddenly empty schedule. But for you, you weren’t sure if you were getting fired or worse, getting stuck in the dungeon for years with no end in sight. 

He thinks about that the entire time he stays within your walls. Where you stood, sat, and lied in limbo. From the couch, he glances over at the spot he found you lying in the day after you wrecked your house. A dark, malicious feeling crawls up his spine and he squirms. Staying in your house was already confusing for him, but with this feeling of what… guilt? He had nothing to feel guilty over. He was protecting his members.

Either way, it was overwhelming. He leaves your home, locking it on the way out. His dorm had his things. He can play video games all day until his eyes dry out. It was undeniably unfulfilling, despite it being what he craved since his trainee years. It felt as empty as his home.

He intentionally has his headphones only over one ear so he can hear when the door clicks open. It’s too quiet to be more than one member. Whatever, he’ll take what he can get. He leaves the game lobby, throwing his headphones off and rushing out of his room. When his eyes are met with blonde hair he stops in his tracks. Soobin silently regards him, not sparing him an ounce of emotion as he makes his way to the fridge. He grabs a soda, pops it open, and throws it back. Beomgyu waits patiently, he needs the interaction and Soobin has to give up this silent treatment at some point.

Soobin empties the can and tosses it, a silent conflict bleeding through his indifference to Beomgyu’s presence. Both men stand in silence, Beomgyu surveying each twitch in Soobin’s expression.

Soobin grits his teeth, hoping if he squeezes hard enough this aggravating feeling flaring up will pass. “You know what really pisses me off?” He snaps once he fails.

The relief he expected doesn’t come. There’s a pang of anxiety creeping up his spine in its place. “That I’m mean to your friend-”

“That I have a feeling this is all about that situation you refuse to talk about.” Soobin immediately shoots down his quip, sparing none of his valuable time for Beomgyu’s antics. Soobin finds that new trials and tribulations rear their ugly head just when he thought he’d gotten used to them. Recently Beomgyu has been one huge trial. He hasn’t been a good leader when dealing with this but Beomgyu is also his friend and roommate. Is he not allowed to just be upset by the actions of someone so close to him? Physically and emotionally?

When he looks over at Beomgyu it’s clear from the look on his face that he’s still not going to engage. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Letting out a lengthy sigh, he decides it’s time to abandon his personal grievances for now.

“You slept over at her house?”

Finally, it felt like someone was clamping their hands around his throat. “What, are you jealous or something?” He melts back into his usual self.

“I’m your leader.” Why does he even remind him anymore? It’s becoming increasingly apparent that the title means nothing to him.

“Yeah, you love reminding me of that fact when it’s convenient but it doesn’t apply here.” Getting his fill of interaction, he leaves the kitchen in favor of the living room. “It’s none of your business.”

“It became my business when you got in trouble. You’re on suspension, Beomgyu.” Yet again reminding him of something he clearly doesn’t care about. At least, he thinks he doesn’t until Beomgyu stops. His back is turned toward Soobin but he can still tell that it got to him.

Beomgyu no longer feels isolated but he does feel trapped again. Like the exits are too far away for him to escape and he’s forced to face this. “I don’t blame you for not speaking to the therapist they provide us with the risk of your confessions being reported, but if you tell me what’s going on we can figure this out. I’m also your friend, Beomgyu. You can talk to me.” He says softly, jumping at the chance of an opening.

This is the same guy he would laugh with until it physically hurt but he still couldn’t stop. The one who’d sneak him extra food as trainees. He’s a lovable dork who has proved on so very many occasions that he cares about each and every one of his members. Beomgyu can see it, he can feel it whipping around in the air. Soobin is right and he’s being stubborn again. It’s like the walls are closing in and pushing him closer to Soobin’s hurt but hopeful eyes. Beomgyu shuts his own.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Before Beomgyu can see the full transition of his expression he whips around, making his way to his room.

“Really? You’re still gonna pretend nothing is wrong?!” Soobin’s increase in volume is ignored as Beomgyu slams the door behind him.

–🖊️⇝

Tomorrow is Beomgyu’s last day in suspension. Yeonjun proposed they throw a party, just another excuse for Yeonjun to party. He invites anyone whose schedule is free which turns out to be a surprising amount of people. Friendly Yeonjun knows pretty much everyone in this generation and some from previous ones. This once empty building waiting to be bought was filled wall to wall with idols, models, and actors. 

Everyone notable in Beomgyu’s life saw the suspension as a no-touch subject that dampened the mood, except for you of course, the delightful person you are. Here? People are coming up to him with a tone that can only be described as vengeful.

“HYBE seems like such tight asses. You guys should ditch that place and come sign with KQ.” Hongjoong delivers a solid pat to Beomgyu’s back as he guides him to the stacked liquor table. “Let’s forget about all of that tonight.” Hongjoong messily pours two shots, either from having too many already or from sheer excitement to let loose. He hands Beomgyu one before raising his into the air. “To freedom!”

It’s almost surreal. The music feels like it swells as reality starts to dawn on him. His containment is soon to be over and he is completely surrounded by people. Things were finally gonna start looking up again.

“To freedom!” 

They both knock back their shots and submerge themselves back into the crowd of people with refreshed energy. His first instinct was to find you for some celebratory cum dumping, maybe fuck you into the wall of one of these fancy port-o-potties.

“Hey.” 

The voice leads Beomgyu’s eyes to a pair of sultry eyes and plump lips curved into a flirty smile. She was a perfect ten with a rack sitting pretty, the round, soft spheres of her cleavage taunting his already horny brain. Jisun was always a nice piece of eye candy. “Catch up to me,” She gestures to the shot in her hand, “and then let’s play.”

–🖊️⇝

Beomgyu is strange. He clearly still holds some resentment toward you, or at least skepticism, but he’s still around a lot. And you are too, which feels like poking the tiger. If he suddenly decides he still hates you he can rat you out with proof this time. You did blackmail the man. But this is just easier. Being strict and clear about your relationship was exhausting. Sometimes you don’t want to journey right back home after getting your back blown out.

All it would take was one joke from Beomgyu about you being clingy and you would’ve snapped back to the strict rules. Then he spent the night over your house and you felt a little at ease.

That meant you could finally have a sleepover at their dorm, staying up all night with Soobin watching scary movies and then being too scared to sleep. It also didn’t hurt having something warm to snuggle up to. The strangest part? Beomgyu seemed to be easing up. He stopped giving you that look as much, as if he’s trying to catch you scheming.

The party was much needed, and judging by the vibe of literally everyone else around you, all the partygoers would agree. There’s this overwhelming sense of relief and it’s intoxicating. Nobody can be as relieved as Beomgyu, wherever he is. You keep an eye out for him, in case he wants to monkey around in some pocket of the building. 

“Hey!!” Soobin grabs your shoulder to stop you as he maneuvers around you. “There you are!”

“And here you are! I can’t believe you’re here and not at home watching anime!” You lean a little closer for him to hear over the music.

“I know! I decided I could try and blow off some steam since I pretty much have the day off tomorrow.”

“Pretty much?” You ask, curious if a monthly diet and exercise report was a company-wide event.

“We’re having a meeting before Beomgyu is reinstated. They said it’d be a small one but I’m still blowing off steam in advance.”

“Yikes. Let’s get some drinks in your system.” You guide him to the alcohol like a nurse escorting a frail patient.

All four of you were downing shots like your life depended on it on opposite sides of the bar. Beomgyu was caught up far before you and Soobin drank your stress away, so away he went. Jisun was whisked to whatever private area they stumbled across first. The spacious storage closet behind the first door he opened seemed like stumbling across the gates of heaven. With a swift turn, he flashes Jisun a smirk and pulls her in. 

“Have you seen Beomgyu yet?” You probe, trying to look casual and not let your genuine inquiry slip through. You’re realizing the longer you’ve gone without seeing him today that you may crave more than just a quickie. A flash of his signature smirk passes through your mind and your stomach fills with a joyous warmth. You find yourself smiling. You quickly drop the smile, peering at Soobin as he stares at the ceiling.

“Not yet. I decided not to look for him and just let him relax. This party is for him after all.” He speaks quietly and you can tell there’s a lot more going unsaid. “For all we know he might not be here.” You laugh, having to force it as this feeling you can’t– or won’t– describe dawns on you. Soobin sighs, not able to shake the conflict in his head.

“I don’t know what’s going on with this man. I don’t know how to get him to talk about it-” He stops, raising his hands as if the gesture will help him conjure his thoughts. He shuts his mouth, dropping his hands in favor of grabbing a shot and downing it. “Has he said anything to you? About anything bothering him?”

“To me? Yeah, that’s not really how our relationship works.” You shake your head, tossing your own shot back to try and dull the emotions begging to be unpacked. Is something bothering him? When is something not bothering him? Now that you think about it, you haven’t seen goofy Beomgyu with your own eyes. You’ve just heard about his harmless mischief through the grapevine. “Loveable brat” is how you overheard Chaewon describe him. You didn’t really get either descriptor at first. More like “punchable asshole”. Without the constant screaming and threatening to ruin the other’s career, you suppose you’re getting close to seeing that side of him. The night before he slept over you shared a kiss that was simple. So simple it was loaded. There was no lust behind it, just a tender gesture with no follow up. Just you waking up holding him. And him holding you. 

“Did something happen?” You ask before chewing on your nail.

“Around when we first debuted. I haven’t thought about it in years because he refuses to talk about it. I really don’t think this is just about him wanting to protect us.” Soobin shoves his shot glass away, seemingly giving up on that method since it doesn’t seem to be working.

“Boy, aren’t you glad you got stuck with these guys?” You laugh and he lets one out as well, though unintentionally. He shakes his head, straightening his face. “No, I am. I really am. I’m lucky.” He knows you’re joking, but it doesn’t settle well when he remembers how he’s been acting. Beomgyu’s supposed leader giving him the silent treatment like a child or a frustrated lover. He sighs, letting out another laugh. This time it’s dry, expressing contempt for himself.

“I’m not really in the mood for a party anymore.”

Beomgyu did not ruin your career but he did ruin the mood for both of you and he wasn’t even there. You echoed his sentiments and he convinces you to come over. It wasn’t very hard, seeing as you could both use the company. There are no other members home yet so you didn’t have to share the blanket. You had it wrapped around the both of you like a cocoon as you tortured him with a scary movie. 

“We could’ve been watching The Bad Guys and-” Soobin wails loudly right beside your ear at the world’s most poorly set up jumpscare making you jerk away from him. He clings to you but you pry him off immediately.

“Are you not ashamed? A baby could sit through this.” You deride, shoving him away again when he tries to lean into you. “You’re so mean!” He erupts after trying to grab onto you a third time.

“No, you’re just a pussy.”

Soobin stands from the couch and snatches the remote from the other side of you. He pauses the movie, ignoring your protesting. “Since when were you so comfortable with disrespecting me?” He scolds playfully, setting his hands on his hips. “Last I remember, I was still your senior.”

“Would you rather I kiss your ass like before?” You cock your head to the side with a raise of your eyebrow, speaking about your former crush for the first time to him outside of the initial awkward phase after the rooftop mishap. He finally collects himself, fighting through his shock. He sits back beside you, keeping his eyes on you as he wraps the blanket back around you.

“I like this version of you much better.” He admits quietly, eyes genuine as they gaze into yours. You breathe a small laugh.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush now, Choi.” You reply at the same volume. The atmosphere felt a lot more volatile suddenly, it was as if you both were close to triggering something.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” His eyes leave yours, giving you a little time to breathe. “I am turned on, though.”

Your pussy clenches hard, feeling a vortex of pleasure swirl in your stomach. You suck in a breath subconsciously as your eyes become glued to how his tongue skits over his bottom lip. He must be wetting them in an attempt to maintain their softness, unlike Beomgyu who bites at them until they’re utterly ruined. Kind of like he’s doing now back at the party. He just needs some way to cope with the pulsing need overwhelming him when he needs to empty his balls. With two handfuls of Jisun’s tits, he gets a similar feeling. His teeth dig and tug at his poor bottom lip. Better it be his lip than her soft skin. He needs to remember this isn’t you he’s playing with.

Fuck, if it were you he’d sink his nails in until you yelped. Feeling his cock jump at the sound and ache at the thought of you loving the pain as much as he loves inflicting it. That delicious look in your eye exposing how much you want to absolutely ruin him in a way no one has before.

But the look you give Soobin gives Soobin pause. He raises his eyebrows before leaning back, letting his head fall back onto the couch. “You don’t still have a crush on me, do you?”

His eyes are like hot fudge drizzling over a mound of ice cream, melting every inch it touches. Still, something nags at you. You need something inside you and you need it bad… but this should be affecting you much more. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

His eyes dip lower, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Nag nag nag. It’s just dick, you tell yourself. You just need some hard sex and this feeling will go away. You grab Soobin by his shirt and pull him on top of you. He happily engulfs you with his large body, caging you in as he devours your lips. They’re still slick with his own spit. They squish and slide against yours and your body ignites. You wrap your legs around him and push his bulge into your core. He groans and you grin against his mouth. So vocal.

Beomgyu would say the same about Jisun, except it wouldn’t be praise. It’s just noise with no rhyme or reason. She’s not reacting to the curl of his fingers inside her, her moans don't correspond with the clench of her walls, there’s no sign she’s being caught off guard by anything he’s doing. Just. Noise.

Everything about her just dissolves into meaningless blobs of nothing. His fingers sloshing inside a wet cavern, his hands squeezing doughy flesh, and his lips brushing against mindless flaps that omit noise constantly. It quickly becomes mind-numbing and he can feel himself going limp. If you were here instead, you’d gasp when he pushed his fingertips into your bundle of nerves. Not meaning to dig your fingers into his shoulders but not being able to help how your body naturally reacts. You don’t want to whimper when he sucks on that sweet spot on your neck but you just can’t help it.

He can feel himself get hard again, his fingers curling and pushing into Jisun’s heat fluidly with you vivid behind his clenched lids. Where are you? He’s suddenly pulled out of the heated moment he’s sharing as the question pops into his mind. If he searched for you, could he be inside you right now instead? Jisun’s noises pull him from his thoughts. How pathetic would it be for him to scramble out of the closet, pussy juice still on his middle and ring finger as he looks for you with his eyes wide like a puppy? First he cuddles you and spends the night at your house and then you see him like that? His eyes snap open.

He grunts, pumping his fingers with more vigor. He has a warm hole for tonight. There’s always tomorrow. That frustrating feeling of the intoxicating warmth leaving his groin as you dissipate from his mind is back and he chases it again. The image of Jisun’s exaggerated expressions flicker away behind his fluttering lids before his mind projects your face twitching to keep your bliss hidden. Pleasure so strong that even the raging flames of hatred can’t burn it away. 

A penis entering a vagina was something you were taught was reserved for the pinnacle of love. When you were old enough you were promised tender touches and emotions so deep and complex they would bring you to tears. You and Beomgyu were swept up into the limelight long before you could get a chance to naturally build up such a relationship and experience such a transcendental feeling. Instead, the two of you bastardized the act with one night stands and relationships built on flimsy foundations only to come crashing down from neglect or simply not knowing who was under your sacred roof. How could you not? There’s no time, too much stress, and too much at stake. 

So you fuck and fuck until the act becomes something so unrecognizable that you come out the other end. Letting someone tear at your flesh and tamper with your spirit as they touch you the way someone you love should. Yet here you are with someone who would treat you right, someone who you longed for for so long, someone who holds you like you’re porcelain with passion still flowing through every action. You should be falling head over heels again. Your crush should be flooding back with crashing waves wrecking everything in its wake until nothing is left but your undying need for Soobin. But no. He mouths your neck as he thrusts shallowing, checking in to make sure he’s not hurting you. 

Everyone who taught you about how sex would feel were right about one thing. You were brought to tears. 

“Beomgyu.” You blubber shamefully, gritting your teeth before hiccupping. You fail to suppress it. Everything becomes a blur as tears stream down your face. The self-pity numbs you beyond repair.

Your name leaving Beomgyu’s lips doesn’t feel real. He only realizes what he’s done after Jisun’s warmth is gone. He opens his eyes and she has moved as far away from him as she possibly can in the confined space. Her angry words don’t register as she fixes herself and storms out, brushing his shoulder on her way. Once he was old enough, Beomgyu was taught a little differently. His father would wait until his mother left the room to get filthy about it, wiggling his eyebrows. His friends would boast and fantasize lewdly in the back of the classroom about it. The pinnacle of sex was supposed to be casual with beautiful women. The only hate sex guys his age fantasized about were low-stakes scenarios you only see in porn. What the two of you had? No one with any ounce of self-preservation would touch this with a ten foot pole. They’d call you “psycho”, block your number, and avoid you like the plague.

Not daydream about you while experiencing a man’s definition of the pinnacle of sex. 

–🖊️⇝

Soobin is a saint. He waited patiently for you to calm down, holding you and rubbing your back. He didn’t complain about his lack of finishing once and didn’t make you feel awkward. He just giggled at your swollen face after you finished. You sat quietly on the couch, staring at whatever movie had auto-played.

“You guys are very similar, you know?”

The urge to start crying again chokes you and you swallow it down. “Soobin, that's a horrible thing to say.” You sigh.

He laughs loudly, trying to stifle his overflowing amusement after seeing your eyes get glassy again. “That’s why you hate each other so much I think.” He says once the humor subsides.

“I hate him because he was horrible to me.” You correct, unable to suppress the annoyance flaring up at his ignorant assumption.

“He was horrible to you, right?” He looks over at you, looking back at the tv once he sees your stone-like expression. “But you still resent each other despite you guys not being at each other’s throats for about a month now.”

“Because I’m wary. He’s wary. We both are constantly remembering something horrible we did to one another.” You suck in a breath, ready to vent about all the ways he’s scarred your skin with proof, but which ones were the ones you encouraged? It didn’t feel appropriate to lie or guess no matter how much you wanted to. Fuck, you wanted to scream about Beomgyu and how much you should hate him. You whimper, resting your face in your hands. “What’s wrong with me?”

Soobin doesn’t answer, leaving you with your own thoughts. You find yourself appreciating the silence.

“Do you love him?”

Numb and hollow… yet throbbing and infected. The space between the skin of your forehead and the bone of your skull felt like it was swimming with complicated activity as your brain echoed the devastating question. Not because the answer was yes but because it had to be answered at all. You raise your head slowly from shaking hands before standing from the couch.

“I’m going to sleep.”

–🖊️⇝

Waking up that morning for both of you was somehow more loaded than waking up in each other’s arms. You couldn’t be with each other or away. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t simple anymore and the complication of it all was starting to get exhausting. You slip from beneath Soobin’s arm, careful not to wake him. Beomgyu trudges out of his bed, feet plodding heavily toward his door. Both doors close simultaneously with a dull, echoing thud, neither noticing the other as you both stand in silence. It’s only when you start to move that Beomgyu notices you. His chest rises slightly with a small gasp. There you are.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

For a second your eyes meet his and there’s a flicker of something that excites him. You straighten up. “I was with Soobin.”

“But you could’ve been with me.” Beomgyu can feel himself get worked up at just the thought of something that actually gets him going. 

“Believe it or not,” You draw nearer and Beomgyu’s eyes are locked onto your lips as they part. You lean in and the warmth of your proximity ceases his breathing “he kept me company.” 

It felt like slow motion when you pulled away and winked at Beomgyu. A gesture that should’ve been harmless and maybe even cute made Beomgyu feel like hot curdled liquid was crawling down his throat.

Once you pull back Beomgyu’s expression hardens. His eyes prick you like needles. “What?”

His tone and glare make you flinch. Your smirk flickers away. This is usually how it starts, but a part of you just wanted to cut out all the bullshit and get to the part where he makes you scream his name. But the look in his eye… something’s different. Something’s wrong. 

“I-I had a little fun with Soobin. It didn’t really go far though because I…” You choke on your words, feeling your heart throb when he tore his eyes away. He couldn’t read your mind but you couldn’t stop yourself from believing he somehow sniffed out the pitiful truth. 

Beomgyu laughs dryly and each moment without proper words made you feel like screaming. Beomgyu flexes his hands, avoiding your eyes while he cracks his knuckles. He balls them into tight fists before staring at you with a level of fury that makes your blood run cold. “I fucking knew it.”

The words struggle to leave his lips as if they had to pass through a filter of his growing disdain for you. Quiet, yet still piercing enough to get you stammering. “Y-you can’t be serious. You’re not seriously talking about what I think you are right now are you?!”

And just like that the two of you are back to square one. Everything that happened in the last two months, hell, the last 48 hours feel like they mean nothing. Why would they? It’s Beomgyu’s fault for letting things get the way they are. Beomgyu feels this nauseating sensation curdle in his stomach and it’s strong. So strong it forces a lie out of him. 

“I’m just trying to protect my members. God– is that a crime or something? Why am I the bad guy? You’re not gonna get away with using us like toys. Maybe you’ll have better luck whoring around Enhypen.” He spits out the words, hating the way they taste. This is your guys’ dynamic, right? Now you’ll start throwing things and screaming at him. 

But nothing comes and Beomgyu realizes he hasn’t been looking at you. At what point he looked away again, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t get himself to make eye contact again. The lack of response clouds his lungs, a stabbing pain screaming in his temples.

After the silence suffocates him to near death he finally manages to look at you. He has to muster all his strength, but he does. And you’re crying. His body feels hollow. No arousal or sadistic pleasure is derived from this. He can’t even feign it.

Still, the silence won’t let up and as if to punish him, his body won’t let him look away. As if two hands are holding his head in place and as a sinister voice hisses in his ears.

LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE.

How much time passes, he’s not sure. Enough time for him to realize how much chaos and stress he’s caused to his leader, his members, his company, and to an innocent person with an innocent crush.

More tears well and skit from your cheekbones straight to the carpet beneath both your feet. Darkening the fabric. The words you’ve been choking on finally release, though they sound frail and strangled. “Beomgyu. I don’t know how else to get through to you. I care about Soobin. Fuck…” You don’t attempt to wipe the tears away or cease them in any way. Your head falls as if your neck can no longer support it. “I was starting to care about you.” 

Hostile would be putting it lightly. The activity in your brain and heart is like a dozen hornet’s nests being shaken and preparing to erupt, one for each emotion reaching its peak. You grit your teeth so hard you think they’ll crumble under the pressure.

“You wanna know something? The only person hurting someone by turning on them is you.” You hate the implications this leaves but your thoughts and emotions are on overdrive and you need to leave before it gets any uglier. “I’ll respect your wishes. Friends aren’t worth dealing with this, I’d rather be alone. Just promise me you won’t involve my career in your bullshit this time.”

As you storm away, barely able to look that man in the eye you realize this. This is what you were wary of the entire time. It wasn’t him ruining your career or biting you until he draws blood or turning your friends against you. It was this feeling you were experiencing. Pain so deep you’d almost call it heartbreak. However, it wasn’t earned from time spent with someone who cherished you and made you feel like you were worth something. All this heartache…

You let him do unspeakable things to you. You let him hurt you in ways you would’ve never let anyone else. You welcomed it.

In an alternate reality, you’d be kicked out of your company, stuck with a damning reputation, and banned from the only true friends you had. The man who would’ve caused all that turmoil in your life, with the intent to cause that harm, is the same one who your heart is aching for. 

–🖊️⇝

The curtains across the room have become blurry blobs of color after being stuck staring in that direction for what felt like too long. You had to start, if you’re late sending this video in then there will be another crack. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and jump start your brain once again from its brief hiatus.

The inhale you suck in shudders beyond your control. The more time that passes with that song out in the open for anyone to hear, the less you can hide your anxiety. You hold your breath until it hurts before blowing out a rushed gust of wind. You’re stagnant again, and before your brain can shut down for one more sweet break you force a smile and hit record.

“Hello precious moonbeams!~ I hope you’re all doing well. Thank you for all the support on Strawberry Jam. I was so worried!” You pout. “It’s a bit of a weird song, right? It’s very different from Laude so I was scared you guys wouldn’t like it. But… wow. The support is…” Sincerity bleeds through as you reflect on traversing your favorite store and then hearing your voice through the speakers.

“Pierce me, Bruise me, keep going until you see strawberry jam”

Your blood runs cold, and your eyes snap up as if you’re being caught saying something you didn’t mean to be publicized. A couple of passersby whisper or stare or gasp. You run out of the store.

Before you can get too sincere you force the smile back in place. “It’s overwhelming. Seriously.” Your eyes get glassy and you chew on your lip. “Thank you.”

All the cracks that have reared their ugly head so far have been mostly forgotten because of the overnight success of your first comeback. Your debut was deemed a flop in comparison to your colleagues, so this was absolutely necessary. It was mandatory. You finally feel like you’re making progress digging out of this deep hole. 

There are signs your company still doesn’t fully trust you.

The first big sign was the debut delays. You were sure they were going to cancel it and that they saw you as a risk. The cracks were treacherous. Then you debuted and the reception was lukewarm. You sat in limbo for days, reading negative comments until your head span. A piece chips off revealing an inky black abyss. 

Then you heard your comeback song. Instead of classy and subdued like your debut, this song was hard to swallow. It was asymmetrical and loud. It was raunchy.

“What do you think?”

You sat in silence, jaw dropped open, a truck sized lump in your throat. You could hear the sound of cracking. But why? This song was a clear hit. You could hear another idol performing it well. 

But it’s yours.

“Ready to record?”

You nod, hoping that will become true with time.

The track plays and your fears ease a bit. You bob your head to the beat. Everything goes fine until the same lyrics that struggle to come out of your mouth approach. You power through. You need this.

“I should hate it but I don’t”

This will be a hit, you can get through this. 

You continue powering through but the dread builds and builds. You hate this line, you hate it so much. Your breath gets caught in your throat right before it’s time and you know you’re about to choke.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I…” You sigh and drop your head. You already knew it was coming when they ask you to do it again.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I-I know that you like that…”

CRACK

The producer slides his headphones off with a chuckle. “I know. It’s weird, right?” He winces as if he’s mirroring your assumed feelings on the matter. He’s half right. It’s obscene and you hate it. You hate it so much.

“I’m sorry, let’s go again.”

The track replaying is like a death march. Your throat bobs, doing little to refresh your throat that feels like it’s filled with cactus needles and glass.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I know that you like that-”

The line processes in your mind and you connect it to the past despite avoiding doing so as if your life depends on it. You reflect on all the times he’s brought you to tears. How hot they felt rushing from your eyes after you frustratingly kissed him for the first time. How helpless and pathetic you felt crying as he restrained your wrists, only to spray you in his seed mockingly. And most frustratingly of all, you crying while revealing that you actually cared about him after he did exactly what you knew he would.

CRACK

The calls of your name are muffled as flashes of his face refuse to leave. You grit your teeth, feeling a frightening level of rage familiarly build up inside you. “I hate him.”

You rush out of the recording booth, mortified as tears stream down your face. He’s done it again. He isn’t even here and he’s done it again. If he could see you right now he’d probably smile. It would probably brighten his day. And you welcomed that monster into your bed.

You’re all the way back home once you realize what you’ve done. The producer is probably calling your manager who is calling the CEO about how much of a pain in the ass you are. You need to get yourself together quickly and get back there. You run to your bathroom and look in the mirror. You plant your shaky hands on the sink

“I’m…”

Your voice wavers. Your resolve dissipates as you stare at the cracks that have transferred to your very visage. A shard dangles where your eye resides before falling away. Again, the black nothingness is left behind and you’ve already forgotten what your face normally looks like.

Your phone starts to buzz and you slowly fade back to reality.

–🖊️⇝

“I have no clue who that is. Why can’t we collab with a Korean artist?” Beomgyu mutters. Soobin grits his teeth and elbows him. He rolls his eyes despite the instant regret. It takes only a minute of fading into the background as the other guys engage in productive conversation for the guilt to fully bloom. On one couch there were four employees and one temperamental child.

No matter where he goes he feels this way. The guys don’t bring girls to the dorm anymore. If they go out to see one, they nervously lie about it and rush out of the door. 

Anytime they bring up a memory tainted with you, Beomgyu is greeted with shocked silence and finds four panicked eyes on him like they’re afraid they’ve poked a tiger.

All those posters, cardboard cutouts, and billboards that are fucking everywhere are like land mines. To anyone else it would be comical to watch four grown, big ass men tiptoeing around a mall like one wrong step will blow their leg clean off.

And the song.

Beomgyu… he is really trying to get better. If he didn’t attempt to, Soobin would probably choke him out. He’s been very patient, but anyone in his shoes would be exasperated. When they’re in public or in a meeting and Beomgyu is being a menace is one thing, Soobin lets him know then and there that he’s serious.

However, when they’re alone, it’s strangely peaceful. He asks Beomgyu about his day and his mental and emotional state. He hasn’t brought you up for a while now. Tomorrow will make 6 months.

Tomorrow comes, Beomgyu’s indifference is slipping. While everyone else walked on eggshells, Beomgyu coasted through the situation like nothing happened. But somehow, the fact that the boys are becoming more accustomed to not bringing you up is bothering him. He only sees you through screens or your likeness plastered on paper or cardboard. 

The last time you physically entered his vision was during your goodbye stage of your debut promotions. It was a brief glimpse but it was enough to show you weren’t doing well. It was an image burned into his memory. None of the photo shoots could replace it. Even longer before that was the last time the two of you made physical contact. The feeling of holding you in your bed is long gone. Everything about you feels like a ghost now.

“Here he is!” Beomgyu looks up from his phone he wasn’t really looking at anyway to see Soobin walking over with some girl. Beomgyu slides down his mask to present the girl with a tight smile and bow.

“This is Jiwon from Cherry Bullet.” 

“Hello.” Jiwon bows with a bright smile and somehow the common gesture illustrates just how efficient of a person she is. He has no clue what a cherry bullet is but something tells him she’s a stellar idol. But why was she talking to him? Beomgyu looks up at Soobin’s phony wide smile before getting distracted by the rest of his members frantically trying to stop what’s happening. Yeonjun tugs Soobin to the side, jaw jutting forward as he grits something out Beomgyu can’t quite decipher.

“I’ve heard people refer to you as a video game protagonist.” Beomgyu’s attention is ripped away from his members as Jiwon speaks again with a little more hesitance this time. What, does she think he’s a ticking time bomb too?

“What?”

“Your visuals.” She clarifies, seeming a little more relaxed now. “Now that I see you in real life I can say I see it too. I didn’t know before but I think that’s my style.” She looks down, still appearing resolute despite the shy action. 

“I don’t usually do things like this, I value my job and image, but I was just so curious about you. I felt a bit weird asking Soobin to introduce me to you but…” As if she realizes she’s been having a one-sided conversation, she stops herself and looks at Beomgyu expectantly.

Every so often, Beomgyu catches wind of a rumor going around about himself. Whether it’s someone he’s cool with reporting back to him or rookies being way too loud and excitable. He supposes every idol experiences this, and most likely they’re as indifferent as he is. He’s a former thug, he’s gay, he’s fucking an executive, and the biggest one:

He’s a womanizer. 

That one sometimes goes hand in hand with the thug one, but it’s mostly referring to his current idol lifestyle. He doesn’t know how it happened. He hasn’t been in a relationship since Hyesoo. He couldn’t be one if he tried. He lets his emotions get in the way. A part of him wishes it were true. Maybe he would stop craving nails raking into the flesh of his back or bite marks on his bottom lip and shoulders. Maybe he would stop waking up with soiled sheets because he has dreams about being ridden long after he’s already cum. 

Of course now he’s thinking of you, despite chatting it up with Jiwoo– or no, Ji…

You’re probably getting relief every other day with how famous you are now. If you even have the time. In that case, you’re probably locking you and some guy in dressing rooms, closets, anywhere you can get privacy for a quickie. 

But no… you’re not like that. You only let Beomgyu see the deepest, darkest parts of you because you were pushed to do so. Beomgyu’s face goes slack, staring deep into space. You hated him so much that you didn’t care about bearing the ugliest side of you to him. Gnashing your teeth with your shirt a tangled mess over your torso after you gave up on taking it off. Saying the most venomous things Beomgyu’s ever heard while milking him for all he’s got. Even after things cooled a bit, you would let him touch and taste you before you even showered. Opening the door to let him in with stains all over your shirt and leftover makeup from the day before.

“I thought about jumping off the roof at practice while I was on my break.” You had said to him after couch sex. You guys were watching Community and eating ice cream. You were just joking about one of the characters being dumb. Beomgyu had looked at you, completely bewildered.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? What you’ve been waiting for?” He asks incredulously.

You sigh dramatically.

“Yeah, but I’m so fucking hungry. My body aches and my hands shake so much I can barely hold a pen to write my own name. I made a mistake and my instructor cussed at me and called me useless.” You laughed sharply before letting your head droop over to face him. “D’you know they delayed my fucking debut again? Before I thought about offing myself I imagined slitting my manager’s throat and bludgeoning the dance instructor to death and stripping down so I could smear both their blood all over me until it covered every inch of my skin. It was so brief but so so vivid.” You rushed out the words in a crazed fashion and you looked at him with wide eyes. You smile. “Then I imagined you coming in, we had sex and then I strangled you until your eyes bulged out–” You catch your breath and look back at the tv. You looked down at your hand and groaned. Your ice cream had melted over your trembling hand.

“Fuck it–” You rush over to the trash can and chuck it before aggressively wiping off your hand with a tattered kitchen towel. You stomp over to the fridge and take out one of the multiple spoiled bags of salad mix and dump it in the trash to cover up the tossed ice cream. You throw a glance at him.

“Make sure you eat that all or cover your tracks if you throw it away.” You mutter, finding your voice wavering suddenly. You sniffle, slamming down on the couch. You refuse to look over at him as tears break free from your eyes. You feel him move closer to you on the couch and you grit your teeth. His hand curls around the column of your throat but he doesn’t apply pressure.

“I imagined killing my manager once too.”

You peer over at him, he’s looking down, his thick lashes on display. “Except I stabbed  him over and over and over until he was an unrecognizable mound of mush. You’re right, it flashed by so fast. I was so sickened by it I pretended it never crossed my mind. Yet here we are…” He finally looks up with a smirk. He finally applies the pressure and you inhale a shuddering breath.

He moves his lips next to your ear, his breath fanning on it making you shiver. “Does it hurt?”

Immediately understanding what he meant you nod feverishly. 

“I’ll distract you.” He answers quickly before swinging his leg over and resting his knee on your thigh. He sits all his weight on your thigh and he squeezes your throat. He repeats it again breathily as he stares down at you wistfully. Your strangled whimpers get him straining against his jeans. 

“I-I…” You find yourself speaking against your will. No… this isn’t how this went. He squeezes again and you moan. You want to clench your thighs but his knee is pinning your leg down. You can’t think, it’s perfect. Still, you find your mouth moving. No! There were no more words exchanged after this. You fucked again and he slept over.

“I-I’m so lonely,” Your voice quivers before you begin sobbing uncontrollably. When you open your eyes and blink away your tears you see a twisted wide grin on his face. His eyes are wild. You tremble in fear, unable to speak anymore. No no no no no no no…

“I fucking knew it.”

You gasp for air, it feels like he’s crushing your windpipe.

“Just a sad, lonely, nobody coming to mooch off of us. Pitiful. You want friends? Huh?” You feel blood rushing up to your face. “Too bad. You don’t deserve love. No one fucking likes you and no one ever will. I’ll do you a favor.”

Almost as if he’s beating you to what you briefly daydreamt about, he applies his other hand and you want to scream. Your ears start ringing and you feel something warm trickle from your ears and all of a sudden there’s a bright light and a piercing noise–

You jolt up from your bed, continuing to sob like you did in your nightmare. You stumble out, nearly tripping as you reach to turn the light on. After doing so you slide down against the wall. Sobbing until your chest hurt and you had no air left in your lungs.

–🖊️⇝

There’s no doubt this song has gotten you some perverse comments and unwanted attention, but it must also get you positive attention too. He’s never seen you hang out with anyone else  besides the guys but surely you have an entourage by now. Guys lining up to treat you right. Ones you wouldn’t feel are deplorable enough to casually bring up your murder fantasies to.

“Gyu?”

Jiwon has that confused tone in her voice. God, he tuned her out by accident again. 

“Are you okay? It seems like you’ve been zoning out a lot.” She sounds cautious again. Beomgyu can tell that she’s trying to avoid what might set him off. Did Soobin tell her about you? How he’s just a screaming match waiting to happen?

“To be fair, I’ve had a lot to think about recently.” Beomgyu gives her a look, he knows she’s aware of what he’s referring to. Her awareness is becoming increasingly obvious.

She sits down beside him in the other folding chair backstage. Not dissimilar to when they first met. Even more similar, he notices his members frantically whispering to each other while looking at him.

“Are you still feeling bothered by that?” Jiwon places a hand on his but it doesn’t pull his attention away. Suddenly Kai is casting a fearful look to his right. Beomgyu, already feeling something stirring in his stomach follows his eyeline. 

A pair of black docs accented with black opaque hosiery that almost stop where your red skirt starts. The skirt looks tattered, purposefully so. It’s asymmetrical and overlapped by a black, intricately designed corset top. Your hands that are running through your hair are donned in a red, loosely fitted pair of sheer gloves. Once your arms stop shielding your face and you lift your head, Beomgyu sees your mascara running. His stomach drops.

The stylist scolds you and quickly tries to fix the mess. You don’t react at all, face stone cold. Maybe you just had a bad day, Beomgyu thinks.

It’s cliche, but it never stops shocking you how blinding the stage lights are. They glint sharply, feeling like they’ve sliced your eyes. You shut them, only to quickly open them once you remember people can see you. You force a smile on your face, not caring if it looks like you have a gun to your head. This is all you have left.

The bright light nearly pricks tears back to your eyes but you hold them back just like you hold back the thoughts of the texts your parents sent you this morning. You don’t want to perform today, the last thing you want to do is sing this song that is now ruining relationships. However, now this is truly all you have left. So you flip the switch as soon as the music starts and don’t turn it off until it’s safe to cry again.

You almost melt away on your couch when a knock startles you. You race to the door, thinking it may be your manager. A part of you still expects her to scold you about something she found out. It’s been months but you still fear Beomgyu saying something. A shaking hand pulls open the door.

Myungsoo smirks lazily. Kim Myungsoo. You have to pinch yourself still, despite it being a month now since he first spoke to you. You’re used to people speaking to you first by now. You’d rather they stick around, hang out with you, but that never happens. When he came up and asked you about your song, you were positive you’d probably never see him again. A man you used to have posters of slipping right through your fingers. But then he suddenly stayed put.

“What’re you up to?” He asks before widening his smile. Your heart flutters.

“I was going to take a nap.” You say quietly, very much distracted. Him brushing some of your hair behind your ear doesn’t help.

He waits a beat as he presses his lips into a thin line. “Need help?”

Your heart drums against your rib cage, it almost hurts how much you need it. He’s been teasing you during this exciting yet excruciating month. Hinting that he wants to fuck you but never doing it. You nearly came when he put his hand on your thigh last week.

Now his hand is there again, and it takes every ounce of strength you have to not lift your hips and coax him to where it hurts. He insisted on leaving the television off so you can’t even pretend not to have your full attention on him. 

“C’mere.” He whispers, his voice so warm it melts you. You scoot over and lean your head on his shoulder. You guys stay like that and you’re content– you really are… but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult not to shove his hand down your pants. You don’t know how long it’s been but your body is screaming at you. He should’ve been inside you already, you guys should have been done with your first round actually. Your impatience gets the best of you and you look up at him. He raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Take a nap. Isn’t that what you said you were doing?”

You laugh dryly, too annoyed to take it back or be mortified at your outward display of your sexual frustration. 

“Is something wrong?” He pouts his lips mockingly. You sit up from him but he pulls you back. 

You let out a strained sigh. “I think I need to be alone to take a nap actually.”

“What, now you’re kicking me out? Did I do something wrong?” His cutesy act is nauseating right now. It pushes you to reveal how you actually feel.

“Aren’t you building us up to be just fuck buddies? Why are you beating around the bush?” You’re desperate, but it’s more than just being horny. At the moment you have no outlet for the overwhelming amounts of anxiety and growing depression. Despite what you had with Beomgyu being… what it was, you remember a wave of serenity after it was all said and done. You bickered as you got your clothes back on but then he left and your body was noticeably less tense. 

“I never said anything about that. You know, you claim you had nothing to do with the song but I’m a little skeptical…” He traces shapes over your bare shoulder and you shrug it off with a scoff before sitting up. The annoyance was building towards being affronted, but you could feel something tingling like a spark crackling inside your stomach. It was back, a feeling you haven’t felt in quite a while. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean,” Myungsoo shifts toward you, “you’ve been practically begging to be fucked the minute we met. You’re not as subtle as you think.” His faux sympathy melts away once he sees fire glinting in your eyes. He can’t help but smile.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” You spit before mounting his lap and devouring his lips. This is it, there’s no mistaking it. But something’s missing… 

Myungsoo sits there, barely moving his lips against yours. Your hands roam his entire body while his are still by his sides. You pull away, afraid that you were mistaken, but he’s smiling up at you. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before coaxing you to finish.

“You want it, don’t you?”

And so you strip your shirt off, the fabric pulled away to reveal your eyes blown wide with lust. You capture his lips again and it tastes so sweet. You nearly tremble after finally breaking through that barrier that never seems to leave. You feel powerful for the first time in months as you slide your hands under his shirt. You puff out a frustrated gust of air before sliding off his lap and kneeling before him. You look up at him as you unzip his jeans. He smirks the entire time, lifting his hips to let you slide his jeans and underwear down. He exaggerates the movement of stretching his arms back and resting his hands behind his head. You falter, suddenly self conscious. 

“What’s your deal?”

He answers quickly, somehow knowing exactly what you were referring to. “I dunno… maybe I’m just not feeling it yet.” He sighs, reaching for his flaccid member and stroking it disappointedly. “Look at it, so pitiful.”

You swat his hand away, feeling challenged by his words. You start with his balls, licking in between them before circling your tongue around each one. You glance up at him and his cock twitches. His smirk flickers away briefly to revel pleasure while looking at the determination in your eyes.

You’re just so happy to finally taste someone. The way a cock feels in your hands and on your tongue, so silky and soft. So sinfully beautiful when covered in thick globs of saliva. There is truly nothing like it. But again, there was something missing.

Anywhere you and Myungsoo were together turned into a new spot for you to fuck. You’d give him the eyes which he’d ignore. Then you’d touch him. Kiss him. Whisper in his ear. None of it worked until you were pulling him somewhere secluded. Even when you were at his place or him at yours. It was like pulling teeth. But whatever, foreplay for you and Beomgyu was degrading and threatening each other. This was nothing.

It didn’t stop at foreplay, though. Throughout the entire act he’d be so smug, never reacting to anything. Only small glimpses of pleasure could be caught, but if you blinked you could miss it. You find yourself fighting for his passion. However, it remained one-sided.

–🖊️⇝

Jiwon’s ministrations were soft, almost like they weren’t there. She had a pretty pair of lips but they were like feathers against his.

“Noona…” He whispered, brushing his nose against hers.

“Hm?” She barely pecks his lips. Beomgyu inhales deeply before grabbing the back of Jiwon’s head and deepening the kiss. She makes a muffled noise of surprise but her eyes slowly flutter shut. She melts into the kiss for a few lovely seconds before forcing herself to pull away. She clears her throat before grabbing both of Beomgyu’s hands.

“Let’s take it slow, okay?” Jiwon gives him a pleading look and he only groans inwardly. It’s been a minute, and Jiwon is not a woman you come across too often. And they actually have a relationship he can brag about, someone he could see himself marrying. She’s pristine.

“Why, you didn’t like it?” He smirks and she scoffs.

“I did, but I just think it’s better for us if we don’t rush things.”

Beomgyu tries really hard to hide the cynicism threatening to rear its ugly head. Jiwon was finally not walking on eggshells around him. He thinks long and hard about what he’s going to say and panics when he thinks he’s said the wrong thing.

“Fine. But a deeper kiss won’t kill us.” Beomgyu brushes away his train of thought before smiling. 

It wasn’t long before Beomgyu and Jiwon made it official, only telling people they trusted and not risking visiting each other anywhere but their dorms. Even that takes several days of planning. 

“How does it work? We’ve never been.” Taehyun says, leaning forward in anticipation.

Jiwon takes a moment to swallow her sip of tea and to think. 

“This will be my second survival style show. I think that they’re not dissimilar to being a trainee, honestly. The ferocity of everyone around you is still there. This new one is a little less intense, though. I guess the stakes aren’t as high.” Once she finishes talking she takes another delicate sip of her tea. Beomgyu watches intently, admiring how elegant she is. It’s so effortless for her. She continues her mature conversation with his members but Beomgyu is completely checked out. There’s a lingering sour feeling prodding at him as he watches her. It makes his smile flicker away.

“Right Beomgyu?” Soobin elbows him and Beomgyu is finally broken out of his daze.

All Beomgyu’s plugs slowly enter each outlet. “Huh?”

“You were so social during our trainee days, it was hard for people to hate you.” Soobin says, making everyone chuckle.

“Even when they saw you as competition, no dice.” Yeonjun chimes in. It was fun to reminisce until it wasn’t. He was smiling again and it seemed to immediately go away the longer he thought about it. He’s been told this. That he’s unhateable. He’s too silly, a loveable brat. But you managed.

“He could never do wrong. We make a mistake and it would start a fight. Beomgyu would do the same thing and they would just brush it off.” Kai adds, and everyone laughs again except for Beomgyu who’s stuck staring in space, his water bottle static in his hands.

“That’s so true!” Someone gushes through the laughter. 

“Funny how things change, huh?”

The room goes silent as Beomgyu takes a swig from his bottle.

Jiwon looks panicked before laughing nervously. “What do you mean? I’ve never laughed this much before meeting you, and the girls love when you come over. Not to mention having four members who love you. That’s rare, you know.”  

Soobin claps before pointing at Jiwon. “That’s exactly right!”

“What else could you need?” Jiwon rubs Beomgyu’s back, making him realize that she’s not miles away from him like it feels she is. She’s right. So everything will eventually get better.

–🖊️⇝

 “Let’s go to a karaoke bar next!” Eunchae ugly laughs in excitement, already running ahead with Kazuha chasing behind her. Yunjin loops her arm with Sakura before following the younger members, engaged in a personal conversation. On instinct, Chaewon follows close by, yelling for the younger members to slow down.

The five of them have a warm dynamic that’s so enticing. Their figures growing further, soaked in the various vibrant hues of neon signs. It was like a scene out of films you watch alone on your couch. It’s right there.

Freezing as if something dawned on her, Chaewon swiftly turns around to face you.

“You coming?” She shouts.

“Ugh, she never comes. Let’s just go.” Yunjin whines dismissively. Chaewon looks conflicted as her gaze switches between you both. You stretch your mouth into a thin line. 

“I have to get home. I’ll text you.” 

Chaewon wants to protest but when she looks back at her members, they’re much farther away than she thought. Then when she looks back at you, you’re already gone.

From the corner of the bar, you send texts back and forth. Your head slips off your fist and nearly slams into the table before you stop it. Just an hour before, you were here with a group of people. The memory feels like particles of dust floating through the air that you try to clutch in your fist.

“Are you okay? I think you’ve had enough for the night. Call a cab and go home.” The stern, motherly tone of the owner doesn’t offend you at all. You don’t get to answer before she’s off sweeping the other end of the restaurant. You let your body completely slump over, resting your upper body on the table.

A tsk barely pricks at your foggy brain. “What a mess.” Myungsoo sighs.

“Take me home oppa.” You giggle with your cheek squished against the table. He raises his brow at you and you raise your arms. He groans before picking you up from the table and holding you bridal style. You rest your head against his chest, feeling tired against his warmth. You’re just about to drift off to sleep when he’s placing you into the passenger’s seat. You whine in protest but he’s already shutting the door. The gentle car ride makes your lids heavier until they shut completely.

Myungsoo picking you up again has your eyes slowly lifting open. You watch his face as he carries you. His body heat is intoxicating. You can’t stop your eyes from flickering down at his lips. You don’t want to mount him like you usually do, you feel something deeper. Maybe there was a reason he took so long to let you have him at first. 

He lets you down to unlock his door before taking you by the hand and leading you in. You’re cuddling on his bed, still unable to take your eyes off him. He’s caught you a couple times and all he does is smile. This time his eyes linger on yours before whispering for you to come closer. You’re moving as soon as he says to, connecting your lips to his hungrily. 

He smells and tastes so good. You trace your tongue over his bottom lip before pecking his mouth. He grins, letting out a warm, chesty chuckle.

“I love when you guys get like this.”

You laugh, a little confused. You peck him again. “You guys?”

He caresses the back of your neck before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. Your breath picks up as you climb on top of him, smashing your mouths together. He pulls away and whispers breathily in your ear.

“You have that twinkle in your eye. You need me. All you think of is me.” 

You shudder, grinding down on him. You trail kisses all over his neck as he continues.

“If I were to leave, you’d be devastated.”

The thought makes you whimper, nipping at his neck. He hisses. “Stop it.” You say in a tiny voice. You feel his bulge grow more prominent.

“You’d do anything to please me, make me stay.” He moans through the sentence, bucking up into you. Your heart starts thumping, and the longer this goes on the more you realize it’s not because you’re turned on. You lift from him.

“I said stop.” Your face is hot. It’s right, he’s completely correct. You want to have your hands and lips on him at all times and your heart is constantly clenched by the fear that he doesn’t really care about you.

“What? Should I make you bleed instead?” He laughs.

Your chest constricts, your breath getting caught in your throat. Your lips tremble as you quirk your jaw trying to curb the anger bubbling up. 

“What did you just say?”

“Babe.” He sits up on his forearms. “I’m just trying to rile you up a little bit. I’m just having a little fun.” He looks you up and down, he’s getting harder underneath you.

Right… this is something you’re familiar with. Something that could lead to even a moment of serenity. But it’s never that way with him. His eyes judge you and urge you to satisfy him. He doesn’t even have to say a word and you’re scrambling to make sure he’s pleased. You’re giving your all as he lazily lies beneath you, enjoying the show. Exuding passion with nothing in return is exhausting, that exhaustion finally dawning on you.

“Well I’m not.” You say before swinging your leg back over him. You slide out of his bed and start putting your clothes back on.

“Where are you going? Come on, you don’t actually want to leave.” He barely moves, just shifting a little to the side.

“I just need a little space for the night.” You hurriedly slip into your pants, wanting to leave instead of having this conversation.

“No you don’t. You need company like you need water.” His velvety smooth voice that once coaxed you into giving your all to him is gone. What’s left is harsh yet dismissive.

“You don’t know what I need, Myungsoo.” You shoot back, throwing your shirt on the bed.

“I know, everyone knows. You’re so lonely you walk around everywhere like a lost puppy but run away whenever anyone tries to get to know you. There’s a reason you were texting me and not your friends you were just drinking with. I’m all you have. So don’t be stupid.” 

Just like that, the harsh lines in his face melt away and he’s back to smirking, patting the space beside him in the bed.

Is this what you deserve? They say you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. And he’s right. He’s so right, again. Maybe you should just sink into the warmth and turn your brain off. Turn on the switch to perform.

However, as you think, emotions build inside you. It feels like pressure behind your skull threatening to pop. Tears abruptly start gushing down your face as you grab your shirt and rush out of the door. You can’t stop the ugly noises from leaving you as you rush home in the cold night air. 

By the time you’re in your own bed, your face and head hurt from the intensity of your sobs. There are no tears left as you continue to sob. It didn’t work. You were supposed to use him as an opportunity to take away some stress but somehow it’s worse. There’s nothing you can do. You’ll just have to live with this alone. Forever.

CRACK

–🖊️⇝

“I was so close but I didn’t make it.” Jiwon sighs dejectedly. 

“I don’t know what they don’t see in you! I think you’re a great performer.” Kai laments.

“You did a great job.” Beomgyu rubs her hand and she instantly smiles. 

“Thanks. And at the end of the day I still have my group and you guys.” Everyone gushes at her response. 

Beomgyu’s mind wanders to the place it has been going frequently these days. He wonders what you’re doing. What it would be like if you were still friends with the members. If he didn’t make you cry. Would you be smiling as widely as Jiwon is even after failing?

“Look who’s lost in thought again.” Soobin pats Beomgyu’s back but he’s stuck. He’s nestled deep within thoughts of you.

“You know you could talk to us about anything, right?” Jiwon moves her hand to caress his. No. He doesn’t know this. In fact, he knows it’s not true.

“Why do you think she was crying that day?” Beomgyu doesn’t look up but the table goes quiet. The tension is lathered thick over the air. Jiwon laughs nervously.

“Wait, Beomgyu weren’t you just talking about–” Jiwon attempts to change the topic.

“You would think she’d be really happy right now.” He continues. 

“Let’s not talk about this–” Jiwon tries but Beomgyu turns toward her.

“Didn’t you say I could talk to you guys about anything?”

“But Beomgyu… talking about her is only going to make you more upset.” Jiwon lowers her voice, going back to how cautious she was when they first met.

“Do I look upset? You guys are the ones acting like there’s a gun to your heads when she’s brought up.” Beomgyu resumes eating while everyone else is still frozen.

“Gyu. It’s because you should let go of her. It’ll be better for you.” Her hand that was once soothing on his now felt like an owner trying to calm their dog after someone knocked on the door. 

“You don’t know what’s better for me.” Beomgyu grumbles.

Soobin stands abruptly. “Beomgyu, can we talk in the kitchen?”

“Gladly.” Beomgyu immediately follows the taller male out the dining room and down the hall. Before Soobin could start scolding him he had things to get off his chest first.

“Why did you introduce me to her in the first place?”

“She asked to meet you. She was interested.” Soobin expresses annoyedly.

“I’m sure plenty of girls have done that, why did you decide to do so for her.” Beomgyu probes.

“Because I knew her and trusted her.”

“Trusted her to be able to handle a project.” Beomgyu rushes out. And before Soobin can deny anything he’s rushing toward him with a finger pointed at his face. “I don’t need to be fixed.”

Soobin sighs, uneasy about how this conversation may go. 

“You’re not broken, you’re hurt. Everyone gets hurt, Beomgyu. There’s nothing wrong with accepting help. We’re just trying to help you move on-”

“I don’t want to move on! You guys were so fucking anal about how I treated her and now you just pretend she doesn’t exist?” Beomgyu shouts furiously.

Soobin decides it’s better to just rip off the bandaid. There's no changing the truth. 

“She’s gone. It’s been half a year and she’s made no attempt to reach out to any of us. It’s clear that part of our lives is over. Beomgyu, you need to focus on yourself right now. We can get through this together.” Soobin tries to coax a reasonable reaction out of Beomgyu but it doesn’t seem to be working. He’s only getting more worked up.

“Stop. Stop.” Beomgyu shoves his hands into his hair before gritting his teeth. “I’m so sick of everyone shoving me under a telescope. At least she never pried.”

“Are you insinuating that what you guys had was anything remotely healthy? Continuously hanging around someone who you despise that much isn’t good for either of you. I saw the marks all over her body.”

Beomgyu sees red, he’s grabbing Soobin’s collar before he could think it through.

“You shut your fucking mouth. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know her like I do.” Beomgyu shoves him away, his glare hot like lava as he walks out of the room. Heading toward his bedroom he doesn’t see Jiwon on the other side of the doorway. She bites her fist as a tear trickles down her cheek. 

“When’s Beomgyu coming over next?” Mao asks, switching to kneel on the couch toward a stone faced Jiwon. Jiwon takes in a quick breath, checking one last time if this is the right move.

“I don’t think he is.”

Mao and the other girls in the room all make a noise in surprise and crowd around Jiwon on the couch. “What the hell happened?” Haeyoon asked incredulously.

Jiwon lets out a small derisive laugh to pair with a tiny smirk as she drops her head. “He’s hung up over his ex.”

The girls all switch between comforting her and cursing him. 

“Who’s the ex?” Chaerin asks angrily.

Jiwon thinks on it again. Fuck it.

“Do you know that song Strawberry Jam?”

–🖊️⇝

Something is unresolved. That much is clear as you both lay in your own rooms, tear stains on each of your pillows. And as long as it stays unresolved, you both will be unable to be loved. 

You’ve denied four invitations to hang out with Chaewon, and you’re surprised she still asks. This month is a free schedule for you to rest after your song promotions are over.

Beomgyu either plays video games until his eyes are dry or lies in bed scrolling through social media. His members pop in to give him food.

Your stomach twists painfully as you watch tv in bed. The colors dance around blurrily as your eyes start to water again.

A month didn’t feel like a month, but you lost track of your days so it makes sense when your manager comes into your room. 

“What’s that smell? Get up and take a shower. We’re going to go over this month’s schedule.” She shuts the door, trusting that you’ll follow orders. Even she used to be kinder to you. What’s the use of attempting to start relationships when they don’t work out. Even your own parents don’t talk to you anymore. You laugh hoarsely. The laughing grows louder and louder until you’re cackling.

You cackle in the shower as well. Is this what happens after you’ve cried so much tears don’t come out anymore?

Beomgyu regretted chasing away Jiwon the minute he did it. She had a similar hurt expression to you when he yelled at her to get out of his room. Look at how each of his relationships ended. Why the hell would Hyesoo stay with a guy like him. Beomgyu’s lip quivers before he’s crying into his pillow again.

You both carry out what’s scheduled for you numbly, so checked out neither of you can add anything valuable to any conversation. 

“Remember how you signed up to be an MC? Well you got accepted! You can continue submitting songs for your next comeback but this should be your priority for now.” One of the women at the table inform you. Fuck, you did do that, didn’t you.

It turns out it’s pretty easy. Just smile and read your lines. It’s much easier to turn your MC switch on, it seems. You had even gotten comfortable with it. Your co-MC is friendly. Formal, but friendly. Everything was working out.

You lift up your cue card in the silence of your empty room.

“And here’s TXT with their new comeback...” Your enthusiasm wanes when you think about standing in a room with him again.

CRACK

It’ll be fine, just flip the switch.

You can feel that he’s there, everyone can feel the tension. The you that was involved with him is switched off right now. Right now you’re conducting an interview. 

Beomgyu slowly fades to the background as you watch the other members, remembering the good memories you had together. Soobin does most of the talking which makes your chest unwittingly constrict. After this you’ll be all alone again.

The makeup artist finally gets done touching up your makeup and you get a moment to stew. Only a short moment as the other MC approaches. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

The simple question forces your switch off. The two of you made eye contact at the end of the interview, and for some reason a whirlwind of emotions threatened to escape you. You’re not okay.

“It’s just, I know you have a past with Beomgyu.”

“Yeah–” You look up at him as your brain fog slowly dissipates. “What did you say?”

“I heard that you wrote Strawberry Jam about him and I…”

Everything silently shatters, the pieces remaining all clattering to the floor.

“Look at the back of her neck.” You whip your head around to see two idols whispering before looking shocked and scurrying away. You send a shaky hand to the back of your neck to cover it. Doing so makes your sleeve drop and reveal scratches on your arm. You begin hyperventilating as you scan your surroundings. Multiple people, staff, idols, everybody is whispering and looking at you. You block out the other MC yelling after you as you run out of the room.

Was it Myungsoo? Was he retaliating because you left him? You never mentioned Beomgyu though. No… it could only be one person. Tears stream down your face as you hunt for their dressing room. You pass a mirror on the way and get stuck staring at your void of a face. Only a pair of reddened, crazed eyes stare back. You refocus on your hunt and finally find their door. You swing it open and rush toward Beomgyu in a frenzy.

As you enter, everything around Beomgyu is a blur. The staff looking shocked, Yeonjun and Soobin jumping up to restrain you. And you. Your makeup is completely ruined with a look of utter fury on your face as you cock your hand back before striking him across the face. Time goes back to normal as the staff gasp. Beomgyu places a hand over his stinging flesh. It prickles, burning through his numbness. The initial impact of the slap was like a crack of lightning striking him. He feels a blur of emotions threatening to pour out.

“Why the fuck would you do that?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Yeonjun and Soobin had successfully restrained you but you thrash to get free. You curse and swipe at Beomgyu, yelling incoherently. Beomgyu slowly stands up and approaches you. Taehyun has to join and hold each arm when Beomgyu is in reaching distance.

“Let me go!” You shriek like a raging animal, trying to rip yourself free. You kick at him, your heels striking his shins and sending a piercing bout of pain up his legs.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Get away from her!” Soobin yells.

“Let her go.” Beomgyu yells over the commotion.

“What?! Why would–” Yeonjun starts but Soobin lets go.

“Just do it. Let him have her.” Soobin spits, scowling at the younger male whose eyes are still trained on you. Taehyun and Yeonjun let you go and you immediately slap him again.

“You just couldn’t help trying to ruin my career again? Do you really hate me that much after I gave you what you wanted?” You whisper shakily, your eyes wild as they take him in.

“Beomgyu… what did you do?” Kai’s voice is weak behind him.

Beomgyu takes your arm and pulls you out of the room. You yell for him to let you go and strike his arm. Each hit is like a jolt of clarity for Beomgyu, the pain an afterthought. He pulls you into an empty room where you begin banging your fists against his chest. He stumbles backward, slamming against the door and shutting it. 

He restrains your arms, squeezing them to keep them steady as you thrash again. “Why?! What else do you want?!”

“What did I do, he asked.” Beomgyu laughed. He throws his head against the door and laughs harder. You look on in utter disbelief.

“Is this funny to you?”

“What’s funny is that I didn’t do anything and somehow shit has still hit the fan. My members are questioning me again, you’re fucking hitting me again.” The amusement Beomgyu was expressing earlier is completely gone as he starts his rant.

“You told everyone that my song was about us!” 

“I didn’t!” He shouts back.

“Then who did Beomgyu?!”

“I’m not the only person who knew about us.” Beomgyu yanks you closer by your arms. You finally manage to free your arms and you drive a finger into his chest.

“But you are the only person who has proven to be malicious enough to do something like this.”

“How do you know it’s not one of your friends? You’re all big and famous now, maybe you shouldn’t go around telling anyone your secrets.”

“I don’t have any friends anymore, Beomgyu!” You shout, your voice cracking as a lone tear rolls down your cheek. “Remember? You drove me away from my only friends. I didn’t go “whoring around Enhypen”. I have no one.” The last of the sentence shreds your throat. You run your hands over your face before pointing at him again. “I’m going through enough and you choose to fuck with me. This is all I have Beomgyu!” You pound both your fists against his chest and again you’re moving in slow motion. He can see it in your eyes. In how hard you clench your teeth. He can feel it each time you strike him.

“Why would you do it?” You sob.

“Slap me.”

You gape at him, chest rising and falling violently as you make up for the amount of air you lost. 

Beomgyu is the one getting riled up now. “Do it. Slap me. Fucking do it–”

You strike him hard enough that the corner of his mouth splits. 

“Do it again.”

Your hand is impacting his cheek as soon as his sentence ends. 

“Again.”

You’re both breathing frantically as you slap him again and another time before he can even ask. He grabs your forearm and yanks you closer. “Do it. I know what you want. Fucking ruin me.”

You grab his face and pull his mouth to smash against yours. He lifts you up and you immediately wrap your legs around him. The taste of his tongue, his blood, it lights you up. All your emotions come flooding out as you grip his shirt and tear it apart. Your noses bump harshly against each other as he repositions you against the wall.

You can barely act on your urges with how intense Beomgyu’s actions are. Every ounce of passion you exude is given back to you tenfold. Within moments of letting you down you are both bare for each other.

Beomgyu’s skin being exposed is perfect for your nails dying to sink into it. You reach your arms under his that cage against the wall and slowly rake your fingernails down his back. He winces, letting out small noises of pain. The anger and sadness inside you has hit its peak. You’re so fucking angry, but the pained look on his face hurts.

You want to do something about your anger, but you still retract your hands and sink against the wall. Beomgyu looks at you confused before drawing closer. You shy away from him, whimpering as the bitter truth sets in.

Beomgyu didn’t force you to stop talking to Soobin. Beomgyu didn’t force you to ghost your friends. Beomgyu isn’t the cause of your loneliness. 

It’s you.

He reaches out to touch you but you push him away. His saddened eyes make you ache which in turn makes you more angry. But you can no longer bring yourself to hit him. A surge of rage sends your own hand across your face. The sting is distracting, it’s something. You strike your other cheek harder and Beomgyu stops you before you can do it again. 

“No.” He takes your hand and pulls it near his face. Your eyes follow your hand as it closes in on him. 

“Hit me.”

Your eyes move slowly towards his lips as they form the words, then up to his dark, big eyes. They’re swarming with depth and emotion. You take in his entire face, reddened by your hand. Lips swollen from your mouth. Hair tousled in the chaos. You see him.

You thought tears would be a rare occurrence by now, but there goes another, skitting from your cheekbone to the floor. You smile bitterly.

“I can’t.”

The gleam of your tears brings life to your otherwise tired eyes. He wants to question why, to wallow in self pity with his own delusional reasoning. But no, in your face is all the answers he needs. The same reason he hasn’t hurt you once this entire time. You sigh, letting your head fall, your eyes darkening as they close.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You express weakly.

Seeing you tremble silently makes his previous attempts to pin his resentment on you seem absurd. Beomgyu lets go of your hand.

“I don’t either.”

It’s like clarity washes over the both of you at the same time as you both take in your surroundings. Assess the situation. You shake your head.

“Then what are we doing here?” You brush past him in pursuit of your clothing, pick up each article scattered around the room. 

“It’s just like we said. We don’t know what else to do.” He says behind you.

You slow your collection as you let his words sink in. You’ve exhausted every other option. Therapy, rough sex, songwriting, diaries, crying. Then you feel his warmth behind you. Your eyes ease closed as you melt into him. Your mind goes blank and for the first time in a long time, it’s not out of force or sheer exhaustion. Both of you relax into one another. You’d have to go out eventually, explain yourself and face scrutiny. Risk people’s opinions of you degrading. There’s nothing to worry about here. You’ve already seen the worst of each other. There’s nothing to guard in fear.

You turn around to face him. He looks different. Softer. Unintimidating. He could say the same for you. You climb on top of him, shivering as his member brushes against your mound. Your lips meld together like softening butter. They glide, becoming slick with the other’s saliva. 

He glides his nose up the side of your face as he slips inside you. Both of your mouths hang agape as he slots all the way in. He’s buried deep inside you, no space left unfilled. The two of you substitute kissing for pressing your heads together, feeling every part of the other's skin. You trail your tongue across his jaw before kissing up to his ear. Every sense is filled with Beomgyu to the point where you can’t think of anything else. His makeup, his cologne, his body wash, his deodorant, his lotion, his taste, his touch, him, him, him. Your heart swells as he showers you with as much attention as you give him and then some.

Your hips move in unison, grinding together. Once you kiss again there’s no longer any space in between. Disconnecting sends slighter louder pants and moans into the air as you both start moving faster. You’ve never heard him moan like this. It’s so unrestrained and vulnerable, exposing his eagerness just as much as his hands squeezing your ass does. 

You find you feel full in more ways than one right now. He saw you at your ugliest and he’s still here right now holding you like he never plans to let go. As if reading your thoughts, he clutches you even closer. You feel a light, bubbly laugh float from your chest as your legs start to tingle. You gasp as you climax with a stutter of your hips. Your movements slow ‘til they’ve almost ceased as you drowsily rest your forehead on his. The two of you rock back and forth in the only clean circle of the room amongst the chaos.

A moment of serenity is all the two of you are granted when you hear a knock at the door. Soobin comes in, looking disappointed as he regards you both.

“Are you done? Everyone’s looking for you.”

–🖊️⇝

Beomgyu got an earful for disappearing that day. You could’ve gotten into an ungodly amount of trouble if the other MC didn’t stick up for you. He felt responsible and was beyond apologetic. You forgave him, of course. He did nothing wrong. Also, you've come to terms with the fact that you know you have nothing to do with that song. It's someone else's demo you got paid to perform. It doesn't define you.

“Hey, are you coming?” Chaewon asks. You go to answer but notice a couple of conflicted looks from her members. A quick thought that you “better not annoy them” crosses your mind. You imagine tagging along and making things awkward and it makes you wince.

“No, I-”

“Come on.” Yunjin says dismissively and pulls you by the arm to follow them to their next location. 

You sit stiffly on the couch, clapping along to Eunchae’s loud singing as everyone around you cheers.

She concludes with two bows and a loud ‘thank you’ into the microphone. 

“Go ahead and pick who’s next.” Yunjin yells gleefully. You’re too distracted to realize Yunjin’s hand is hovering over you with her finger extended down.

“Hmm…” Eunchae pretends to think about it for a comically short amount of time before yelling out your name. Your confusion is cut short by a cheering Yunjin and Chaewon pushing you toward the screen. She hands you the mic which you take hesitantly. Once they're seated again they initiate a chant.

“Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!”

Your brain does the honors of going over all of the embarrassing ways this could play out. Regardless of that, you’re already singing. It’s either that or running out the door, and the latter would take much more effort and explaining. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

You finish to cheers and applause and you bow in response.

–🖊️⇝

Things in the dorm have gone back to being tense. Soobin isn’t giving Beomgyu the silent treatment this time, but it’s clear he’s disappointed. Everyone is under the impression that they hooked up again only to go back to hating each other. Mostly because you haven’t come over yet. Beomgyu was giving it some time, but now he’s ready.

“Stop acting weird.” He sighs, rubbing his nose bridge. “I did have sex with her. No, the song isn’t about me. We don’t hate each other. You guys can stop tiptoeing around me now.”

The members visibly untense, but only to express confusion.

“Where is she then?” Soobin speaks up, casting a stern look his way.

“Why does her being here matter?” Beomgyu finally gets to ask.

“Remember when you called me naive for having faith in her?” Soobin grits his teeth. “After all that she’s still-”

You cautiously click open the door, slowly revealing your apologetic expression. “I was going to wait but I didn’t…” You stop when you see the hardened look on Soobin’s face upon seeing you. “H-hello everyone.”

Kai stands up and marches over to give you a crushing hug. The gesture makes your heart flutter.

“You didn’t even call.” He pouts.

“I’m sorry.” You squeeze out. Taehyun and Yeonjun come next. Taehyun gives you a side hug while Yeonjun pats your back.

“Welcome back.” Yeonjun says with a wide smile.

The moment is interrupted by Soobin walking out of the living room into his own and slamming the door. You immediately follow after him, an action that Beomgyu watches carefully. Of course he notices a sharp pain in his chest, but he sits with it. Studies it. You could be chasing after him to reveal your true feelings and this time he may accept. He doesn’t want that. It even makes him a little bitter, but he can’t stop you. He can say whatever ugly words come to his mind to try and scare you away, but this time they may not work. And you’re not doing anything wrong. Him cuddling with you and drifting off to sleep in your bed doesn’t mean you’re dating. Moreover, you’re not Hyesoo. He’s seen every part of you by now. Regardless of everything, he’ll still be happy to have you in his life.

“You have sex with me and then never show your face again? Do you know how that feels?” Soobin explains desperately with tears springing to his eyes. “I knew the sex was meaningless, that was the whole point, but for you to up and leave afterward like I was just some random guy really sucks.”

“I-I didn’t want to leave, Soobin. I was too mortified to show my face again.”

“Because that’s what you guys being together does! You break down each other and then turn to breaking down those around you just trying to help. It’s selfish for you to waltz back in here like everything is back to normal.”

“It’s not.” You state confidently. “Everything is very, very different now. I can’t go into public spaces without being recognized, I have more people around me than ever before, and Beomgyu and I don’t hate each other anymore. You said it yourself, we’re similar and we wreck everything around us. We do it to ourselves. Beomgyu realizes it now and I certainly do. I don’t want things to go back to normal, because that version of me is gone.” The more you speak, the easier the words come. You smile hopefully at Soobin.

“I’m moving on with or without you, but I’d really love it if you entered this new chapter with me.”

You grab both of Soobin’s hands as his head droops. He’s silent for what feels like decades passing you by. Then he squeezes your hands.

Epilogue 🖊️⇝

Chaewon: you should apologize.

You pass the phone to Beomgyu in the midst of his “advice”. He crosses one arm over his chest as he reads the very short text for an inappropriate amount of time.

“But you didn’t know, right?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not in the wrong.” You groan, snatching your phone back. He snatches it right back and starts texting. 

“Hey!” You go to take your phone back but he leans away further and further until his body is caging the phone against the couch. You climb over him and bite his shoulder but he just laughs as the text is sent. You frantically snatch your phone back and look in horror.

You: tomorrow at my house 6pm;’2[21

“What the fuck! Beomgyu!” You shriek.

“You didn’t know, therefore you didn’t intentionally do anything wrong. But you did hurt Kazuha’s feelings and the members are very mad at you.” He explains calmly, smacking on his food. 

“Thanks for reminding me of my unfortunate situation.” You deadpan.

“You were worried they think you're a horrible person. Boom–” He motions at your phone with his sandwich. “You can fix that. You’re worried you’re actually a horrible person, but you had no intentions of hurting anyone.”

“Yeah but you weren’t there. The way I said it was so insensitive in context and the look on Zuha’s face,” You whimper and hide your face in your hands.

“You didn’t hurt her on purpose.” The finality in Beomgyu’s voice makes you look up at him. His face is serious. “I’m certain of it. Now come here.” He pats his lap and you’re eagerly scooting over to lay your head on his lap. He sighs.

“You idiot.” He brushes away the tear falling down your face. “Why don’t you listen to me?”

“Hurting someone as sweet as her is pure evil.” You whisper.

“I don’t have to know you to say that an evil person wouldn’t be this remorseful. But knowing you, you’re not the type of person to go into an exchange ready to hurt an innocent person. You’re the type of person who sits quietly thinking about what you could say that will make people laugh the loudest and smile the brightest. I’m very sure that’s what you were thinking that day as well.” He voices his thoughts as he strokes your hair, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the singe of a fire starting in your heart. He smiles lazily and it's the cherry on top of the artwork that is his face. 

You slowly lean up before capturing his lips. It’s slow, tender, loaded. Kissing him after all the chaos feels like lying in a field of dandelions, the seed breaking away and dancing in the wind. His skin feels like the warm hug of sunlight. His voice is like birds singing. You pull away and look at him in awe. He seems to be mirroring your feelings if his drunken expression is anything to go by. He shuts his mouth and brushes the back of his hand against your cheek.

“You’re kissing me outside of us having sex?” Beomgyu sports exaggerated shock and presses his palm to your forehead. His antics force a giggle out of you. “Are you sick?!”

You swipe his hand away, unable to ignore the burning light in your chest as you look at him and he silently looks back. You lean in and kiss him one last time before risking it all once you realize what this feeling is.

“I think I love you.” You whisper, looking desperately at his face to catch anything unsavory. His smile drops, looking genuinely shocked this time. He grabs your face and pecks your lips over and over before moving to the other parts of your face until you're stuck in a fit of laughter. He pulls away with adoration in his eyes.

“I loved you first.”

[monzabee]

park avenue polyanna (social media au) - mv1

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where everyone is confused how Max, the resident villain of f1, has such a wholesome girlfriend.

Pairing: max verstappen x gallerist!reader (model used: random people i've found on the internet)

Warnings: none other than some cursing

Author note: okaaaaay, this is kinda all over the place but to be completely fair, i started it like a month ago and i finished it right after the singapore gp, so it has been a while, lol. miss charlotte york is here (my personal fav alongside samantha), so i hope you guys enjoy this one as wel!! we have one more to go, and boy is that one going to be fun to work on!

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

yourusername just posted a story!

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriendsinstagram, f1wagss and 34,826 others.

yourusername: would %100 recommend pilates if you want to make a grown f1 driver cry because he can't handle the stretching!

user: please tell me there is video evidence of max doing reformer

yourusername: i can neither confirm nor deny these allegations against my beloved boyfriend

yourusername: but if i had to, the answer would be yes, yes i do

user: I LOVE YOU YOU ARE A NATIONAL TREASURE

user: she is probably the nicest people on earth and i can't, for the life of me understand how she and max are in a relationship

user: maybe we should stop assuming people's personalities and also speculate about their relationships bestie

yourusername: period!

user: thank you for giving us the best content on this app, queen

user: i will pay thousands and millions to see max verstappen do pilates

user: everybody say thank you yn for the best piece of information ever

view all 2,647 comments.

user: i just know some of the drivers on the grid are going to have so much fun with this brand new piece of information

maxverstappen1: not so simply lovely🙄

yourusername: but you were sooo cute

yourusername just posted a story!

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, elleusa, f1gossipworld and 39,267 others.

yourusername: mandatory busy week recap

user: nothing to see here just subtly flexing her chanel kelly on us (i love you queen you're so iconic)

user: omg she works??

user: stop this right now you're embarrassing yourself

yourusername: i wish i didn't need to work but gotta feed the kids, you know? (max, the cats and my dog)

user: she might be the busiest girl in the world, but one thing about yn is that she is NEVER missing that pilates class

maxverstappen1: come back hoooooome

yourusername: soooooon

view all 3,456 comments.

user: i can feel it, she's going to be in singapore

user: manifesting this for the looks

yourusername

Liked by f1wagsupdates, maxverstappen1, yourbestie and 43,2647 others.

yourusername: lesson from this weekend: kill them with kindness, or in our case, with a no comment interview!

user: the look on max's face is so telling of the situation

yourusername: nothing a bunch of cuddles can't fix!!

user: this relationship is the proof that opposites, in fact, attract

user: i can't believe we got a max mention before gta 6

user: oh to be wearing vintage chanel and dating max verstappen

user: she is who i wanna be when i grow up (i'm 23)

view all 5,253 comments.

maxverstappen1: no comment

yourusername: not disappointed and not surprised

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, redbullracing, landonorris and 601,3674 others.

maxverstappen1: i don't know what you are talking about i'm always nice

user: the duality of men

user: mad max to gentleman pipeline is actually insane

yourusername: can confirm that you are VERY nice

maxverstappen1: simply lovely

user: okay but are we winning the championship oooor??

view all 10,273 comments.

user: MAX VERSTAPPEN IN A SUIT, I REPEAT, MAX VERSTAPPEN IN A SUIT

user: this relationship confuses me a lot but i also love it so much

user: it's giving grumpy x sunshine to the extreme extents and i love it

[evansbby]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: EXTREMELY HEAVY SUBJECT MATTER, heavy depictions of domestic violence, physical and verbal abuse, NON CON, smutt, major angst, rough, breeding kink, dirty talk, mean Steve, housewife kink, domesticity kink, victim-blaming, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, self-blame.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve was always a great husband. Until he wasn't.

𝐀/𝐍: SUPER DARK. Very angsty. Very heavy subject matter. This fic explores domestic violence. This fic can be triggering so please read warnings beforehand and please do not read unless you have read them.

“Sweetie, come downstairs.”

Steve only has to say it once and it’s enough for you to drop whatever you’re doing and follow wherever his voice is calling you. On this occasion, you switch off the iron and set it aside before straightening your dress and scurrying down to greet your husband.

“I’m sorry, I got wrapped up in my chores,” you explain, helping him take his jacket off before he wraps one strong arm around your waist and pulls you into him. Gosh, he was so big and strong! Steve’s physique always made you nervous and skittish – but in a good way, mostly. Carefully, you link your arms around his neck, reaching up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.

“You’re still learning,” Steve says after a long, lingering kiss to your lips followed by several small pecks that make you smile. “I don’t expect you to know everything straight off the bat. But for every rule missed, you must repeat it back to me.” His hand slips down to cup your ass through the thin material of your dress, and he gives it a firm squeeze as if to prompt you. “So, what’s the rule, baby?”

“That a good housewife always greets her husband at the door when he gets home from work.” You recite it dutifully, because by now you know all the rules by heart. Steve had made you learn them before you’d got married. You remember the long days of sitting in his lap and repeating each rule after him, and you also remember the soreness of your ass each time you got it wrong.

You never got them wrong anymore.

“Good girl,” Steve praises and you glow. You take his tie off for him, all the while asking him questions about his day. How work was, if anything special happened, if he was hungry. (Of course he was hungry, you knew Steve had a voracious appetite for both food and… other things.) He could eat enough for three men in one sitting – which was probably why he was so big and strong and imposing. And scary. Well, you were definitely scared of him. Sometimes. But you try not to think about that.

“This looks great, sweetheart,” Steve sits down on his place at the head of the table and pulls you into his lap. That was another thing about Steve, another one of his rules. He preferred you in his lap instead of in your own seat – at the dinner table, on the couch, anywhere. Even in the presence of other people, which embarrassed you sometimes but you’d never tell him that. It was one of his rules, and that meant it had to be obeyed, no questions asked.

“Thank you, Steve. I tried really hard to make all your favourites.”

He feeds you and himself at the same time, and now it’s his turn to ask you questions.

“Oh, my day was pretty boring,” you accept the bite of chicken pot pie he feeds you, chewing thoughtfully and trying your best to ignore the way your heart starts pitter-pattering harder. “I did all the chores I was supposed to do, and then I did some shopping. I got us some pretty new bedsheets.”

“That’s nice, sweetie. Did you buy anything for yourself?”

“No. I just came straight home after that, and…” Your voice trails off, and you hope your increased heartrate and clammy palms aren’t showing in your face.

“And what?” Steve blinks, those angelic blue eyes looking at you expectantly.

You shouldn’t lie to him. He was your husband. And it was one of his main rules, after all – you weren’t allowed to lie. And it wasn’t like you’d done anything wrong…

“Well…”

The change in his demeanour is subtle, but it doesn’t escape you how he grabs your arm, his finger stroking against your bare skin as a deathly silence falls over the room, as if he’s awaiting your next words with careful patience.

You shuffle on his lap. Oh, why didn’t you just spit it out the moment he’d come home!? Now he’d think you’d deliberately kept it from him until he’d asked, and-

You take a deep breath, “Th-The car broke down on the way back.”

Silence. You dare to peak up at his eyes to see them impassive, waiting for you to continue. He gently sets the fork down beside his plate, an unreadable expression on his face that does nothing to calm your nerves.

“I don’t know what happened, but it broke down and it wouldn’t move and I…”  

“Why didn’t you call me?”

It’s a toneless question, any warmth he’d possessed earlier now gone, and it makes you start shaking even more.

“I tr-tried but there was no service, and I knew you’d be busy, and… and… I’m sorry, Steve, I know I should have called you. I know I’m meant to call you when stuff like this happens, but in that moment I–”

“How did you get home?”

Another question. His voice flat, but the grip on your arm tighter than ever. You gulp.

“L-Luckily there was someone passing by, and they said their auto-repair shop was only five minutes away, and–”

“They?”

Your hands are shaking uncontrollably now, and you clasp them in your lap in a bid to get them to still. Your breathing grows more rapid, you can feel your palms grow sweatier as you squirm under your husband’s deathly calm gaze. You’re too afraid to look directly at him, but you know he’s expecting an answer. For a split second, you consider lying. But the consequences of that notion have you spitting out the truth before you can think about it any further.

“H-He.”

Steve goes deathly still. You hear him inhale sharply, his body tensing up even more underneath you. A part of you wants to burst into tears and run, run, run! But fear has you rooted in place, and even if it didn’t, he’s got a firm grasp on you, and you could never, ever overpower him.

“You got into a car with another man.”

He doesn’t even pose it as a question. No, the words leave Steve’s mouth in a statement of contempt and accusation. Except his tone is still so levelled, so dangerously low and contained.

“N-No! No, Steve, no! He offered to tow the car, and take it back to his repair shop. H-He was fixing it, Steve! And I swear I was only there for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes! I promise, and then I came straight home!” You’re tripping over your words, trying to get your explanation out. The explanation you’d subconsciously been rehearsing in your head all day because you knew it would come to this. You knew the moment that friendly stranger had tapped on your car window and offered his help. But what else could you have done in that moment?

“Steve, I know I should’ve called you the moment I had service, but I –”

“–But you were too busy with the mechanic.”

“No, no, Stevie, it’s not like that at all!” In hopeless desperation for this not to end badly, you bravely lock eyes with him, cupping his face in your hands, “I just didn’t want to bother you, I knew you had an important meeting around that time.” And I was also too scared to call.

His grip on your arm steadily tightens, till you can feel his fingers digging into your flesh. And you can see the vein in his forehead, the way his face is flushed red, the way he’s clenching his jaw, the way his eyes look so dark.

You wince, “S-Steve, please, you’re hurting me.”

“What did you do?”

“H-Huh?”

“In those fifteen, twenty minutes you were at his shop. When you should have been calling or texting me. What did you do?” Steve grips your chin, his thumb and forefinger pressing painfully down on your skin as he makes you look up at him. His expression is unreadable, his tone still low, but you can see that vein pulsing in his forehead. You know what it means.

“Nothing, I promise! I just sat in the waiting area, and…and there was no service, and–”

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not, I swear I'm not, I-"

“You were fucking him.”

The accusation drops like a pin, except it feels more like a car crashing straight into your heart. You feel everything; hurt, panic, but most of all – fear.

And Steve’s eyes are so, so dark, and his words so matter-of-fact. He’s still got a death-grip on you, holding you firmly in his lap while you start shaking violently. Oh no, no, no, no… How could you persuade him that you hadn’t done that? How you could never do that?!

“No, Stevie, I would never! I t-told you, he was fixing the car, I barely spoke to him, I–”

“You fucked him. In the car that I bought for you. And then you thought you could keep it a secret from me.”

He isn’t hearing you. No, he’s going to that place. That place where his eyes turn black and his expression goes all far away, and his anger consumes him to the point where rationality goes completely out the window. And you’d give anything to not be dragged down into his dark place, where your pleas reach deaf ears, where your tears and screams don’t mean a single thing. Well, not until it’s all over.

“I didn’t, Steve, please believe me. I would never cheat on you, never ever. Please, you’re hurting me!”

His fingers clamp down on your upper arm so hard, you know they’ll leave a mark. Another one you’ll have to hide with a meticulous makeup routine and carefully selected clothes.

It takes all your strength to pry his hands off you, and you jump off his lap like a hot poker, slowly backing away as dread fills up your stomach. Dread that increases tenfold the moment he stands up too, up to his full height that makes you cower in total, utter fear.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” his tone is hard now, louder, more biting, and your eyes zero in on his hands as they curl into fists at his side. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

You continue backing away slowly, acutely aware that he’s stepping forward each time you take a step back. And like clockwork, you know how this goes. Soon your back would meet the wall, and then… Your eyes dart up behind him, up the stairs… Maybe, if you could get to the bedroom in time, perhaps lock the door?

“ANSWER ME!”

You jump, “No, Steve, I don’t! B-But I’m telling the truth. I barely spoke two words to the man, all I did was wait while he fixed the car. Please believe me,” your voice drops down to a broken whisper, “please…”

No talking to other men. It was perhaps Steve’s biggest rule. And it hadn’t always been like that, but slowly, through time, this rule had developed into one that your husband was the most obsessed with. The most angered by if ever broken by you. And what had started out as a little bit of a jealous streak had turned into white hot, obsessive, possession – almost paranoia. He saw red if a man ever looked your way, and God forbid if he thought it was the other way around…

“You’re fucking lying,” he spits out, each word coated in pure disdain that feels like ten stabs to your heart. “Had you been telling the truth, you wouldn’t have hid it from me until I asked you how your day was. You would have told me yourself, but you didn’t. You slept with someone else, and you thought you could fucking hide it from me, didn’t you?”

“No,” you whisper.

It only takes him two strides to get to you. And you’re frozen in fear but it’s like your body goes into fight or flight mode. He lunges at you, and you know he’s going for your throat but by some miracle you dodge him. And then you run, run, run for the stairs. Two at a time, oh you could make it! You’d lock yourself in the bathroom, wait for his anger to subside. You’d done that before, sometimes it would work, sometimes–

You take the stairs two at a time, but Steve’s legs are much longer than yours. He’s bigger than you in every way possible, stronger, faster too. It’s almost laughable how quickly he catches up to you, his footsteps heavily thudding on the floorboards. On the upper landing, and you’re almost at the bedroom door when he grabs your arm and yanks you back, and then–

SMACK.

The first hit always winds you. You never get used to it – his fist connecting with your jaw, the way your head snaps to the side, the ringing in your ear that blocks out all sound for a handful of moments. And then the pain, the numbing paint that’s all too familiar, radiating and spreading like hateful wildfire as you reach up to shield your face.

“Don’t fucking run from me, you little slut.” Steve slams you against the wall before pinning your wrists by your sides. “Look at me, look at me. I’m going to give you one last chance to tell the truth, and you better think very carefully before you speak, and don't you fucking lie to me. Did. You. Fuck. Him?”

A broken sob escapes your lips, a whimper filled with desperation, “N-No.”

It’s almost like he’s donned a mask as his handsome features twist into a snarl, his eyes narrowed to slits and yet you can still see the crazed darkness that consumes them like a cloud of black smoke. His lip curls in what looks to be contempt, and he shakes his head. “You’re a fucking liar.”

His grip on you tightens, if that was even possible, and his eyes flash, and suddenly he’s shaking you violently, your head hitting the hard wall with a thud as you cry and struggle against him.

“How the fuck could you? How could you sleep with him? After everything I do for you!? Answer the fucking question, how could you!?”

You want to defend yourself, tell him that you didn’t, you wouldn’t, how could he possibly believe you could? But you know there’s no point, you know he doesn’t hear anything when he gets like this. No matter how hard you cry, how much you beg and plead with him. He only sees red, never facts. And you’re still in shock from the first hit, so when you open your mouth nothing comes out.

The slap comes out of nowhere, the harsh cracking sound echoing across the hallway and bouncing off the walls as if to mock you. Your head whips to the side, and you’d have fallen down from the sheer force had he not been holding you up with his other hand.

“P-Please stop,” you croak out, finally finding your voice as the tears stream down your face from the pain of it. From both the physical and the mental anguish because you’d truly done nothing wrong! Hadn’t you? Sometimes he made you question yourself with how angry he’d get at you. “Please, Steve, it hurts, I didn’t–”

“Shut the fuck up and stop lying!” Steve roars, shaking you so hard you have to close your eyes because everything’s starting to spin now. “You thought you were fucking slick, didn’t you? Fucking someone else behind my back while I was at work, then coming home and acting like everything was fine, doing your fucking chores like you didn’t just act like a goddamned whore,” he shakes you again, his grip on your shoulders so hard you feel like passing out. “-thinking I wouldn’t’ find out, thinking I’m some fucking idiot who can’t put two and two together. That’s what you thought, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”

He backhands you hard when you don’t answer, before throwing you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes. Limply, you lay there, half disorientated and half crestfallen because you can’t even find it in you to defend yourself anymore.

He strides into the bedroom before throwing you on the bed, hard. You land with a thud, still clutching your face that blooms with never ending pain. Again, you try to shield yourself, but it’s like a rabbit trying to hide from a hungry lion. A hungry lion fuelled by crazed hatred and contempt. And that’s what hurts you the most – how he looks at you like that. As if you’re the worst person in the world. As if he really hates you and truly believes you’d ever cheat on him.

“You’re mine,” Steve snarls, climbing on top of you and once more grabbing your wrists. “I don’t give a fuck if you think you’re a free piece of ass who can run around town spreading your legs for the first man who looks your way. I own you, you fucking whore, and it’s your fucking fault that I’m doing this now. But you need to fucking learn…”

“N-No, please,” you cry out weakly when he grabs the material of your dress and rips it clean in half. Oh no, not this. Please not this. Not when he was so mad, so violent, not when he had that crazy look in his eye. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t. He wouldn’t be gentle, and it would hurt so much. And you were already hurting so much. “Steve, I’m begging you, please, please, don’t! D-Don’t, I promise I’ll be better! I didn’t cheat on you but I swear, next time I’ll call you, next time I’ll–”

Another slap to your face shuts you up, and your sobs turn silent. Still there, just silent. Filled with dread and anguish and fear for the horrific roughness that is to come. That always came no matter how hard you begged. No matter how careful you were to follow his rules. You always messed up somehow. Oh, you could’ve been better! You should’ve been better and then you wouldn’t be here! And he’d still be nice, and you’d be sitting downstairs eating dinner and laughing, and…

Oh, how did it get to this?

“Everything I do for you, and you throw it all back in my face,” Steve snarls, and he’s so unrecognisable. Like a dark stranger looming above you, pelting out harsh words that he knows will cut deep, twist like a knife straight through your heart. Make you feel like you’re the worst person alive, and certainly the worst wife. Someone who can’t do anything right. Someone who can’t even keep her husband happy.

“I give you everything you could fucking want, I provide for you, don’t I?” He grabs your face with one hand, squeezing so hard it hurts. “Don’t I? Don’t I fucking give you anything you could ask for? And all I want in return is for you to listen to me. Your goddamned loyalty, that’s all I want. For you to fucking understand that you’re my property, that you need to do what I say. And what do you end up doing? Cheating on me like the fucking whore I always knew you were.”

He makes you believe it sometimes. Well, at first you didn’t, but now you’re not too sure. Maybe you were a terrible wife, because otherwise why would he always get so mad? You always tried your best to keep him happy but you never did enough. Did other wives do more than you did? Was that why their husbands never got mad at them? Was that why they were always happy and relaxed? While you walked on eggshells, waiting for him to explode? Maybe he wouldn’t be like this if he were married to a different woman. A better woman. Someone who didn’t make as many mistakes as you did. Someone who didn’t annoy him that much. Someone who kept him happy and didn’t make him so mad all the time that he had to accuse her of cheating. Someone he didn’t look at with pure hatred in his eyes, like he was doing with you now.

Steve kisses you roughly, possessively. Pressing his lips down on yours as if he wants to imprint the feel of them on you, sear it straight into your memory. As if you could ever forget. But it’s the sweet kisses from Steve that you want to remember, not the hate-fuelled way he’s kissing you now. But you just lie there limply, lie there and let him kiss you, let him pull your now tattered dress off you. And you wonder if he can taste the saltiness of your tears, and you wonder if even a tiny part of him cares.

How did it get to this?

“I’ll show you,” Steve mutters darkly, “I’ll show you who you fucking belong to. And it’s all your fucking fault, because you’re gonna feel it. And maybe this time, you won’t fucking forget it.”

You look beyond his shoulder as he unzips his fly and pulls his hard cock out. You look at the tiny speck on the wall, focus on it really hard. Focus on it till your vision blurs, focus on it so you don’t feel the excruciating pain as he forces his huge cock inside you. Focus on it till you can’t feel his hand wrapping around your throat, till you can’t hear the pure hatred hurtling out of his mouth. Maybe if you focused hard enough, it would all go away. Like magic.

It wasn’t always like this.

You remember your first date with Steve, almost a year ago to the day. Your friends had set you up with him, telling you he was only a couple of years older than you. Great looking, had an established career. But a bit shy, a bit reserved, someone who mostly kept to himself. You’d agreed, because you were shy and reserved too, and suggested ice-skating as a first date activity to help, well, break the ice.

And it had been so funny, because Steve couldn’t ice skate for the life of him.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he’d huffed, awkwardly “skating” up to you in the middle of the rink. Except he was less skating and more just dragging his skates across the ice while holding his huge arms out to balance himself. It was comical, because he looked so big and out of place, and yet so cute that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“It just takes a while to get used to,” you’d answered, skating around him before impulsively grabbing his hands in case he fell over or something. And you’d immediately widened your eyes when you’d realised what you’d done, about to drop his hands like hot pokers because you were never this forward on a first date! But Steve had chuckled, keeping a tight grip on your gloved hands and pulling you closer.

“Nope, I just think it’s in my genetic makeup to be bad at ice skating,” he’d said as he’d let you guide him back to the side of the rink where he could hold the railing, and yet he didn’t let go of your hands as he winked. “Either that, or I’m actually a pro who’s faking it just so you’ll hold my hand.”

You’d gone to the Christmas market after that, and Steve had bought you a hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows on top. You thought he’d stop holding your hand once you were off the ice, but he’d held it throughout your stroll through the markets. You’d delicately sipped your hot drink, secretly thrilled at how nice and safe it felt to hold his big, warm hand. How he was so handsome and he genuinely seemed interested in you.

“You’ve got whipped cream on your nose,” Steve had pointed out, and before you could wipe it off, he’d done it for you. And then his hand had stayed on your face, cupping it gently while the market bustled around you, busy as ever but the two of you seemed to be in your own little bubble. And then he’d kissed you, and it had felt so incredibly right. Like coming home from a long, cold day and being met with the warm familiarity of your own house. A house where you felt safe, and content, because in that moment, that’s what he made you feel.

Safe, warm, content, happy.

“I’m never letting you out of this fucking house again, you hear me?” Steve grunts, slapping your cheek not-so-lightly and knocking you out of your reverie. You blink several times, hoping it’s just a dream. But his rough thrusts remind you that it’s not, and your mouth curls in pain as his hand goes back to wrap around your throat. “Not until you learn not to act like such a goddamned slut, not until you learn to fucking listen to me, and be good. This is all your fucking fault, okay? That’s why I have to teach you.”

“St-Steve,” you cry lightly, unable to breathe because of how he’s pressing down on your neck, “I-I can’t… I can’t…”

“Shut up!” His thrusts grow harder, even more unforgiving. And all you can do is lie there and take it, and hope and pray and wish that you were somewhere else right now. With someone else. Or no one at all. His hands, which you’d known to be so gentle once upon a time, are rough as they squeeze and fondle and slap you as if you’re an animal, a toy, something he wants to pound till he breaks. “You deserve this, you little whore. Tell me, was that fucker’s cock worth it? Was it worth ruining what we have? FUCKING TELL ME!”

So unfair. It was so horrifically unfair. Because you’d never think of cheating on him, never ever. You love Steve, despite everything you love him so much. But he didn’t love you. Of course he didn’t. Maybe he had at first, but he didn’t anymore.

What had you done to make yourself so unlovable? What had you done to make him hate you so much?

Again, you think how he feels like a stranger, a stranger who’s hurting you and violating you in the most unforgiving way possible. All while you lie there and take it. And how was this Steve? The very same Steve you’d fallen in love with less than a year ago? The same Steve who’d confided everything in you? Told you that you were the one for him, told you how much he loved you, how happy he was that he’d found you? How was this the same Steve?

You still remember how surprised your friends had been with how close you and Steve had gotten in such a short amount of time. But they’d also been happy, and taken all the credit of course, as they’d set the two of you up.

And you remember feeling so goddamned happy all the time. Happy whenever you got off work and you got to see Steve. Giddy because of how comfortable you felt around him, despite knowing him for such a short period of time. One date turned to two, which turned to five, and before you knew it, you were looking forward to spending nights at his place. Cooking for him, kissing him, climbing up on his roof and talking all night while staring up into the stars.

It was during one of those moments when Steve had told you that you were the first person he’d felt close to in a very long time. He’d told you that he hadn’t had a great childhood, that his parents hadn’t been very nice people. And because of that, he’d run away when he was sixteen and never looked back. He didn’t speak to them anymore.

He’d told you he’d had a girlfriend before, and they’d been together many years until she cheated on him. And he’d squeezed your hand then, looking up at you from where his head had been resting on your lap, and the stars in the sky had reflected in his eyes so brightly, and he’d told you that you were the first person since then that he’d felt connected with, that he’d felt like he could be himself around. That he loved you so much despite the fact he’d only known you a couple of weeks. He loved you so much and so hard, that you were all he could think about. That you consumed him. And he loved that. And he loved you.

So, where did all that go?

That’s what you wonder now, your body jolting from each unforgiving thrust as the man who is your husband fucks you relentlessly, fucks you like he hates you. Tells you repeatedly, again and again that it’s all your fault.

Your fault. Maybe it is your fault. Oh, if only you hadn’t gone out today! If only you’d just stayed at home and been good! Then the car would’ve never broken down, and none of this would have happened, and Steve would’ve been happy. And you wouldn’t have made him upset like how you always seem to do now.

“I’ll make sure you never fucking disobey me again,” he mutters, pushing your legs up and throwing them over his shoulders while you moan in pain underneath him. His cock is a blur, pummelling in and out of you like a jackhammer. And it’s crazy, the very person who’d made you feel such pleasure in the past, could be inflicting so much pain on you now. “I’ll make sure they all know who you belong to the moment they fucking look at you. Fuck, I’ll show you.”

The contempt in his tone kills you over and over again. Makes you think you’ll never be good enough to make him happy. Make anyone happy. Maybe it was you who had ruined Steve, turned him into the monster he’d become. Maybe it was all your fault, your fault that the sweet, caring man you’d met had turned into your worst nightmare. Someone you were so fucking scared of that sometimes you couldn’t even breathe.

“I’ll knock you the fuck up,” Steve grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours, “Maybe then you’ll get it through your head that you’re not the free piece of ass you seem to think you are. And everyone will see who exactly you belong to.”

You whimper, too frightened to protest, your body jolting with each thrust. And it always hurts when he’s this rough, it always burns so bad because of how big he is.

You remember a few months into dating him, when he’d taken your virginity. He’d been so sweet, so gentle. Holding you close and murmuring sweet nothings in your ear while you cried in his arms despite trying to be brave. He’d told you he was big, and that it would hurt and he’d pull out if you wanted him to. But you’d held on to him so tightly that night, because despite the pain, it had been so special to you. And he’d been so kind, so tender, and you’d basked in the glow of being loved. And the pain had been worth it, because you’d felt so close to him, and he’d told you over and over again how much he loved you, how special you were. How you completed him. How you were so pretty, so exquisite, how if he could take all the pain away from you and give it to himself, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Now, he roughly presses his huge palm against your abdomen, and you can see the outline of his cock in your stomach as he continues to jut into you with inhumane force. Each thrust makes the bed rock underneath you, the bedposts hitting the wall with thwack after thwack while you silently lay there, the tears drying up on your cheeks, and yet your whole body still burns with pain from the constant onslaught.

“God fuck, your pussy’s still so fucking tight despite how much of a fucking whore you are,” Steve mutters through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna fill you the fuck up, get you pregnant once and for all so everyone knows not to fuck with what’s mine. And I swear to God, from now on you won’t even look at another man, let alone fuck some hick ass mechanic who’s trying to take you away from me because you’re too goddamned stupid to realise it.”

He hadn’t always so possessive to the point of insanity. Not the way he is now. You remember the old Steve, how he’d see you having innocent interactions with other men and not think twice about it. But slowly and surely, that had changed.

“I don’t like you talking to other men,” Steve had admitted to you once a few weeks into your relationship. “I know it’s irrational but I just hate it.”

“Oh, Stevie, it doesn’t mean anything,” you’d giggled, although you remembered secretly feeling so giddy that he cared enough about you to be jealous. That meant he was serious about you! “It’s you that I want, I couldn’t care less about anyone else!”

“I know,” he’d sighed, grabbing your hands and pressing kisses on them in a way that made you giggle even more. “I guess it’s just something I have to work on.”

But what had started out as simple, innocuous jealousy had morphed into something so much bigger, twisted, and ugly.

It began with a simple request; “please baby, don’t talk to him. I don’t like it.” And you found yourself listening to him, thinking he’d leave you if you didn’t. You distanced yourself from any male friends you had, including co-workers and even your relatives. You couldn’t stand to see Steve upset, and he’d asked you so nicely, so why wouldn’t you listen to him?

After that, he’d made you move in with him. “It’s just easier this way,” he’d assured you, despite the fact that you’d only been going out less than two months, “I feel more comfortable knowing you’re safe in my bed at night, and then I don’t worry as much.”

Then he’d made you quit your job. “I don’t like how those men at your work look at you,” he’d said, “I’ll take care of you, sweetie. You don’t need to work anymore.” And so, you’d quit without a second thought. It’s what had made Steve happy, so why wouldn’t you listen to him?

Then, he’d wanted to know where you were all the time. “I worry about you so much, you have no idea,” he’d told you once when the two of you were in bed and he was holding you close, stroking your hair while you lay on top of his chest. “I need to know where you are all the time, okay? I just… I need to know. And who you’re with. You need to tell me, or else I’ll go insane.”

Constant check-ins, constant texts. You were allowed to go out with your girlfriends, but never past a certain time. And certainly never a holiday or a girls’ trip. He had to know who your friends were, if they had boyfriends or brother, he had to know everything. And you were so in love with him, you hadn’t even realised that maybe it was all too much.

“My ex-girlfriend was having an affair behind my back for one year,” he’d told you quietly one night. One hot August night when the two of you had climbed up on his roof, and he lay with his head in your lap. His feathery lashes fanning his cheekbones, and his face softened by the moonlight, he’d looked like an angel that night. “One whole year, and I didn’t have a clue until the day I caught her. Them. I caught them in my bed.”

You’d listened with baited breath, because Steve never really spoke much about his life before you. Not his childhood, nor his parents who he didn’t speak to. And definitely never his ex-girlfriend.

“I just can’t lose you,” he’d said, staring hard at the dark night sky, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, if you left me. If someone took you away from me, I think I’d die.”

You’d kissed him then, and whispered against his lips, “I’m not going anywhere, Stevie. I love you so much, and there’s nobody else out there for me. Just you. So don’t worry, because you’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me.”

He’d sat up and taken you into his arms, hugging you so tight you couldn’t breathe – but in a good way. “Forever,” he’d mumbled into your hair, “I’ll have you forever, and then after that too. I’m never gonna let you go.”

You’d married him a month later in a small ceremony with just your family and some friends. And he’d looked so happy on that day, so handsome and happy and he’d held you close to him the whole night. You were happy too, and thrilled that he was so happy. “Now everyone knows your mine,” he’d whispered in your ear while you two slow-danced, “This is all I’ve ever wanted, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Thank you. I love you.”

“If you ever fucking cheat on me again, I’ll kill him.” Steve grabs your jaw hard, his fingers pressing against your skin until you cry out, ripped away from the safety of your memories and back into the present. “And you too. You got that? I’ll fucking kill you both.”

You’ve cried all the tears you possibly can, and so you just lay there. Limp, shaking like a leaf yet feeling so numb. So numb and alone because he wasn’t your husband. He was a monster, a monster you didn’t even recognise. Your angelic husband warped into a monster because of you, because of you, because of you!

With a grunt, he unloads inside you. His hot cum searing you from the inside out, and there’s so much of it. And he holds you up, with your legs pressed up over his shoulders, spilling load after load of his seed into you, making sure it stays, making sure it sticks.

And then he throws you aside, rising up to his feet and staring at you with blazing eyes. He’s still fully dressed in his suit, while you lie below him in your tattered dress. The one you’d chosen so painstakingly to wear for him today.

With glassy eyes and limbs that don’t move, you watch him as he does up his fly, muttering profanity under his breath. He’s still so angry, you can tell by that vein on his forehead, and the way his fists are balled up by his sides. You hate his fists. They scare you more than anything else in the whole world.

He doesn’t utter another word. Instead, he leaves. You hear him go down the stairs, hear the jangle of the car keys, the slam and lock of the front door.

He was gone.

Your body curls up into foetal position, and you hug yourself hard. It’s the only solace you can give yourself. Everything hurts. From your face, your jaw, your arms, your whole body down to your heart and your soul. Oh, you hate yourself! For being so weak, so pathetic!

But most of all, you hate yourself for making him how he’d become. If only you’d been a better wife, if only you’d been able to make him happy. Good wives didn’t get hit. So maybe this pain was what you deserved.

If only you hadn’t lied about the car…

Oh, the car! The goddamned car! You wish to God you could turn back time. But what could you have even done differently?

You remember feeling a sense of dread the moment the car had stopped working. And it had increased tenfold when you’d taken your phone out to call Steve, only for there to be no signal. Of course, the car had decided to stop working in the middle of nowhere. It was less than ideal, since you had to get home and finish all your chores before Steve got home. Otherwise, he might get mad, and then…

“Hey there, you OK?”

The knock on your window makes you jump, and you find a man peering in at you, a friendly yet slightly concerned look on his face. Oh gosh, Steve would be so mad if I spoke to this man now, you think to yourself. And yet… there’s not much else you can do. Your car won’t start back up, and you don’t know the first thing about repairing it.

“H-Hey,” you roll your window down, trying not to look directly at the stranger’s tanned face. “I’m OK, thanks for asking. My, uh, my car isn’t though. I think. It won’t start up.”

The man nods, “Yeah, that’s why I came over. Saw you on the side of the road and knew you wouldn’t be parked here for no reason.” He pauses, listening to the hum of your engine with a thoughtful look on his face. “I think I recognise the sound. If I could get this car back to my auto-shop, I think I could fix it.”

“Really?” Hope fills your heart before reality comes crashing down. Steve wouldn’t like for you to be going into auto-shops with men you didn’t know. You weren’t allowed to talk to any man unless Steve approved it. And you gulp, thinking how mad he’d be if he found out. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle as you think about the last time he’d gotten mad at you… No, you couldn’t go with this man, it wouldn’t be worth the trouble.

“I, uh, I think I can get it to start back up myself. Thanks anyways though!” You say with false brightness. But after a few more failed attempts, you slump back against your seat in defeat, and the man chuckles.

“A valiant effort. But as I said, my shop’s only about a mile and a half down that way. And luckily, I’ve got my tow truck with me now. Let me help you, and you’ll be on your way in no time.”

His face softens when he sees the hesitant look on your face, and he runs a hand through his unruly brown hair before fishing something out of his pocket. “Here’s my card, just so you know I’m legit. C’mon, let me help you. I couldn’t possibly leave a lady out here all on her own with a broken-down car that’s an easy fix.”

You bite your lip. His business card did look legit. And after another quick glance at your phone – still no signal – you nod and smile at the stranger. Maybe Steve would be proud of you for taking the initiative and getting yourself out of a sticky and potentially dangerous situation.

The ride to the man’s auto-repair shop is short enough. And he spends the next fifteen minutes fixing your car, all while you sit in the waiting room fretting and typing out texts to Steve that you’re too scared to send. You need to think of the perfect way to explain what had happened with the car, the most delicate explanation that wouldn’t result in him getting mad. Oh, you didn’t want him to get mad! Not when things had been going so well recently, and he hadn’t gotten mad in a long time, and you were starting to believe that he still loved you, and wasn’t annoyed by you all the time, and didn’t hate you, and–

“She’s almost fixed!” The man had announced cheerily, walking into the waiting room and shooting you a bright smile, one that had melted off his face the moment he’d seen the look of worry on your face. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” standing up and smoothening down your dress, you’d shot the man a puzzled look. “What do you mean, almost?”

“Almost as in I need an extra part to complete the fix, but it won’t come in until tomorrow.” The man runs a hand through his wavy brown hair that curls charmingly at the base of his neck. “But don’t worry, she’ll be back home in your driveway by noon tomorrow at the latest. I promise.”

“T-Tomorrow?” your blood runs cold, and it’s insane how your hands start shaking instantaneously. “But it can’t stay here overnight, my…my husband, he’ll find out, and then–”

“Husband?” The man repeats slowly before quickly gathering himself and taking a step back. “Well, ma’am, I’m sure he won’t mind about the car, so long as you’re alright. And don’t worry, I can give you a lift home.”

“N-No, you don’t understand, he…” you swallow harshly, squeezing your eyes shut for a second and clasping your hands to get them to stop shaking so violently, “N-No, he can’t know I was here, he can’t, he’ll…”

“Why don’t you let me speak to him,” the mechanic says slowly, pointing at your phone. “I’m sure I could explain the problem with the engine–”

Your eyes widen in pure fear, “NO! I mean, uh, no, that won’t be necessary. I just, oh God, I-I…” Suddenly, you can’t think straight. If Steve found out you were at this man’s auto-shop alone with him, that he’d spoken to you, that you’d spoken back to him… Oh no, Steve couldn’t find out. He’d get so mad, and he’d hurt you, and then everything would be awful for days.

“Is everything okay, ma’am?” The guy has a look of serious concern painted on his face as he stands before you. He’s tall, tall just like Steve, and looks just as strong too. “I know it’s none of my business, but you look awfully scared.”

You force a laugh that comes out a tad too high-pitched, “I’m fine! I’m totally fine! I just…”

“Let me give you a lift home,” the man says gently, taking a hesitant step closer to you. “I can speak to your husband, let him know it wasn’t your fault that your car broke down.”

“That’s not what he’d be angry about,” your eyes widen when you realise you’ve said too much. “I mean, he won’t be angry at all. Not at all. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

More than him, it seems like you’re trying to persuade yourself.

“I, uh, I’ll call myself a cab,” you say, but the man places his warm hand on your wrist to stop you, and the contact makes you jump. He’s so… gentle. It’s a strange sensation. And then he just… looks at you. For a handful of seconds that feel like ages, he just looks at you with inquisitive blue eyes, as if he’s trying to read you, or at least trying to understand.

“Please, allow me,” finally, he tears his eyes away, and he’s got his phone out and he’s already dialling the number, “the reception here isn’t great, but my phone seems to work through it.”

It’s only later, when you’re getting into the cab, that he grabs your arm once more. Well, “grab” would be the wrong word. He gently placed his hand on your arm as if to stop you, and you hesitate, half distracted by the need to get home before Steve and come up with an excuse about the car, and half curious about what the mechanic has to say.

“You have my card,” he says slowly with significance, his voice lowering to a deep rumble. “Call me tomorrow about your car. Or,” he adds when you start closing the cab door, “if you feel like there’s another reason you should call me, then please just do it. I’m here to help.”

He holds your gaze for a moment or two, a few wayward strands of his brown hair falling over his forehead before he pushes them back. You find yourself forgetting to breathe, before you quickly shake your head and force a smile before looking away.

“Thank you for your help.”

Now, you lie alone on your bed, on your side with your knees up to your chest, shielding yourself and your poor body from whatever lies ahead. You can feel the outline of the mechanic’s card in your dress pocket, and muster up the strength to take it out.

Should you call him? It’s not like you had anyone else. Your family lived miles and miles away on the other side of the country. Steve had moved you to a different state after the wedding, claiming the two of you needed a fresh new beginning to start your new life together. And so you’d left all your friends and family behind without a second thought, loyally following your husband into the sunset because you loved him and trusted him.

You’d made new friends now, but they were the wives of Steve’s friends, and you didn’t know if you could trust them. What if they took Steve’s side? What if they recognised that it was you who’d turned him so awful and mean? That it was you who was the rotten one, poisoning everything you touched because you couldn’t keep him happy, couldn’t be a good wife?

You stare so hard at the card until your vision blurs, and then you stare some more. After a while, your thoughts just cease altogether, and you just lie there. Just wishing you didn’t exist. Wishing you were never alive to begin with, wishing you never felt the immense love in your heart that you still do for Steve. Wishing love never existed and neither did you. That you just disappeared into thin air one day and Steve could move on and be happy and be better for someone who made him better. Someone he genuinely loved and cared for and wanted to be better for.

Someone who so clearly wasn’t you.

You don’t know how long you lie there. Motionless. It’s different this time. In the past, after he’s left you like this, you’ve been able to get back up. Brush yourself off, make yourself pretty again and pretend it never happened. For the sake of both of you, just pretend it never happened.

You remember the first time he’d hit you. It was a month or so after your wedding, and Steve had taken you out to a work party of his. And you’d felt so relaxed, so pretty on the arm of your husband, wearing the dress he’d chosen for you, the jewellery he’d bought you. The diamond earrings sat pretty on your ears, a present from him that very night. He’d come up behind you while you’d sat at your vanity getting ready, and kissed your cheek and told you how much he loved you, how you deserved all the prettiest things in life because you were the prettiest thing in his life.

You’d felt so at ease, being led around by Steve whilst you mingled and spoke with his work colleagues. But his good mood hadn’t lasted as the night had gone on, and halfway through the evening, you’d sensed him go silent next to you. Deathly silent. His grip around your waist had tightened to the point where it was almost uncomfortable, and his jaw was tight too. His lips set into a straight line.

He’d been just as silent on the drive back home, and it was only once the two of you were back in your bedroom, that he’d chose to speak.

“You were getting awfully comfortable with some of the men at the party,” he’d commented while you were undoing his tie.

You’d wrinkled your nose, “What?”

“Don’t say what. You know exactly what I mean.” His tone was cold, colder than you’d ever heard it. Soon, you’d grow used to the tell-tale signs that he was going into that dark, forlorn place he went to when he got like this. But back then, you didn’t really have an inkling.

“D-Did I do something to upset you, Stevie?” You’d asked hesitantly, not knowing what to make of his detached anger. You’d reached back to undo the zipper of your dress. Usually, he did it, but he wasn’t offering to do it then.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His tone had been so cutting that you’d physically flinched, and when he’d turned back around, his eyes were blazing accusatorily, “You were acting like a goddamned slut tonight, flirting with all those men.”

You remember the insult not even hitting you, because the absurdity of his statement had taken you so far off guard that instead, a giggle had escaped from your lips. An awkward giggle, like you had no idea what to say to such an absurd accusation.

“Do you find this funny?” You’d never forget the look he’d given you then, how he’d strode across the room, how big he’d looked, how scared you’d felt in that one second.

“No, Stevie, I was just–”

The strike had come out of nowhere. Like a clap of thunder, almost. You’d heard it before you’d even felt it. The slap that seemed to reverberate off the walls, except it was his palm against your cheek. The force of it had you reeling, and you’d lost your balance. Crashed against the wall with a thud before you’d fallen down.

You still remember how unreal it all had felt. Like an out of body experience, almost. Surreal. And the pain had bloomed instantly on the side of your face, and you’d looked up at him and he’d looked down at you, a horrified look on his face. He’d held his hand out in front of him, staring at it hard, and the darkness from his eyes had cleared.

Back in the present, and you can’t stop shaking. You feel numb, empty, and yet you can’t stop shaking. You try to think back to the old Steve, the good Steve. The sweet Stevie who was a little bit shy, and yet so charming and witty at the same time. So poetically in love that he’d made you fall for him, hook, line and sinker. The romantic Steve who’d whisked you off your feet and you’d happily followed him into the sunset without a second glance backwards.

Steve. The love of your life.

You just wish he still loved you back.

You don’t know how long you lie there. Seconds, minutes, hours, they don’t mean a thing. Not when this was to be your reality for the rest of your life. Again, you feel the charming mechanic’s card in your hand, but now you can’t even muster up the energy to hold it up.

It’s the dead of the night when he finally comes back. You haven’t moved an inch, but the sound of the front door shutting and the footsteps thudding up the stairs has alarm bells going off in your head.

No, no, no. No more hitting, no more pain. You couldn’t take another slap, you couldn’t, you couldn’t, you couldn’t! In fight or flight mode, you heave yourself up, shaking with fear. The only place you can think of to hide is under the bed. And maybe he wouldn’t care to look for you, maybe he’d stay in the guest room, maybe he’d just leave you alone.

But you see Steve’s shoes as he enters your shared bedroom, and you find that you’re holding your breath. Slowly, he steps inside, and you hear him call out your name quietly. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to be transported away. Far, far away where nothing cruel could reach you, and you could be happy all the time and not have to feel any pain, not ever, ever, ever!

It’s when his fingers wrap around your ankle that you start crying again. But no sound comes out, perhaps because you’re in shock. Or maybe because you’re just too scared. Rigid, frozen in complete fear, you’re limp as he pulls you out from under the bed.

“Oh God,” he whispers as the stark white orange light of the bedroom hits you. “Oh…Oh God… I…” his voice catches, his blue eyes clear and alert, blinking several times as he takes you in. Your poor, quivering body, and haunted, dead eyes that look anywhere except at him.

“I didn’t mean to,” he hoists you up into his lap gently as he sits on the cold floor, a mix of shock and regret on his face as he repeatedly shakes his head, surveying your face, your arms, your shoulders, your stomach, “Baby, I… Oh God, I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t…”

You find the tiny speck on the wall once more, and you fix your gaze upon it until it blurs. You're so numb, so far away, and you barely feel his hand as he gingerly touches the bruises and marks he’s left on you. Some old ones, some new. Some that had yet to turn dark and noticeable, some half covered in makeup from before.

Carefully, Steve strokes your face, the same side he’d slapped repeatedly only a few hours before. But the gentleness doesn’t register to you. Nothing does. You stare at the speck even harder, wondering if it was always there.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathes, his tone hushed, regretful. Filled with anguish. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I… I got angry, I shouldn’t have got angry but I just…” his voice trails off as he stares hard at his own hand. As if he can’t believe he’s done this, as if he can’t believe that his own hand was capable of doing so much damage.

The speck on the wall seems to get bigger. You wish to God it would swallow you up whole.

“I swear I won’t do it again; I won’t ever hurt you like this again, I swear on my life,” Steve holds you up against his chest, cradles you like you’re a baby. And it feels so alien, to be handled so delicately. He hugs you close, burying his face in your shoulder, and that’s when you hear his voice break, “I won’t do it again, you have my word I’ll never hurt you again. I’m so fucking sorry, oh God, I’m so sorry.”

I won’t do it again. You’d heard that before. That’s what he’d said the first time he’d hit you. That’s what he said after every time. The speck grows blurry.

“Baby, please say something,” he stops hugging you, but still holds you in his lap, his strong arms around you in a way that should make you feel safe but right now you just feel nothing. His voice is thick, “I swear on everything, I won’t lay a hand on you again. I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know why I get like that. Everything goes black, and it’s like I can’t think straight and then by the time I can, it’s too late. But I swear I’ll get better, I swear on my life this won’t happen again, baby, just please. Please say something.”

If you painted over the speck, would it still be there? Would it disappear entirely, or would the paint chip off after enough time had passed, and reveal the ugliness once more?

“I’ll go to anger management, therapy, you name it,” he shakes you gently, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones. “I want to get better for you, be better for you. I know I’m not a good man, baby, I know you deserve better and I’ll do anything. I swear, this is the last time I hurt you, okay? Please, just believe me, okay? Just say something.”

Steve stands up with you in his arms, your limbs falling limply down by your sides, your head lolling down too. Almost like you’re not real, like you’re a doll who was alive for a little while but you’re not anymore. You certainly don’t feel alive. You don’t feel anything. Just numbness.

Tenderly, he lays you down on the bed. The same bed he’d roughly thrown you down and violated you on just a few hours earlier. And a part of you, a tiny part of you from the deepest recesses of your mind, wants to muster up the courage to look into his eyes. To search for the man you love, to see if he’s still there. But the dark numbness eats you from the inside out, and so you just stare blankly at your speck on the wall.

“I promise I’ll change,” Steve repeats, the desperation now evident in his tone as he clutches your face, wills you to look at him. “Please, just listen to me. Believe me when I say I’ll change. Wh-When we… when we have our little girl, I’ll change. I’ll be a good husband and a good dad, make both of you happy. I won’t ever get like this again, I can promise you that now, alright? That’s a promise I’m making to you right now.”

A child? Would he hurt it too? Would he grow to hate it too, simply because it would be yours?

He grabs your hand, and his is so warm. Or is yours the one that’s freezing cold? It had been cold under the bed, but you’d liked it. Feeling cold was a different kind of pain, one that distracted you from the pain he’d caused you.

He kisses you desperately, all over your face as if trying to get you to say something back to him. Instead, you notice another speck on the ceiling above the closet. How many were there? Were they secretly laughing at you? Mocking you for staying so long in a speck-filled house?

“Baby?” Steve’s eyes glisten, his face so ghastly pale as he grabs your hand and presses more desperate kisses on it, “Baby, please say something. Say you forgive me. I-I don’t know why I do it, okay? I just, I’m so fucking terrified of someone taking you away from me. Taking away the one person, the only person, in my whole fucking life who means everything to me. I couldn’t stand it, I thought he’d take you away from me, and I just saw red, and I’m so sorry. I hate myself for doing this to you, baby. I’m so sorry, please say something!”

But you can’t! How can you, when it doesn’t even feel like you’re real anymore?

The specks are all around you now, growing larger and larger. You can hear Steve apologising over and over again, hugging you close as he begs for your forgiveness. But you’re too far away, so far away that you can barely hear him anymore. Lightyears away, in your own universe where you’re brave and confident and nobody ever messes with you. Nobody ever hurts you. And you take care of yourself, and it’s enough.

You find yourself hurtling through windows of time, entering one before flitting into the next as the specks grow so large it feels like they’re consuming you. You find yourself observing your birthday last year, when you’d baked your own cake and Steve had spent hours decorating it for you. Using your favourite-coloured frosting, and of course you’d gotten some on your face. He’d kissed it off for you, and told you that you were adorable.

Now you’re on Steve’s roof, the night he’d told you about his big promotion at work. You’d yelped in excitement, hugged him so hard it had hurt – but the good kind of hurt. And he’d had those stars in his eyes as he’d held you. “You’re my best friend, you know?” he’d said, “Every time anything good happens, you’re the first person I look for in the room to tell.”

Memory after memory, one cherished moment after another. And you’re so possessive of these moments, like you want to lock them up in a jar and keep them safe forever. Not let them get tainted like how he’d gotten tainted. Because of you, of course.

Maybe I’ll stay here, you think as the specks continue to consume you. It’s safe here. I’m happy here. He’s happy too. Maybe I’ll stay forever...

But something's stopping the specks from swallowing you up and taking you away. Taking you far, far away where Steve couldn't hurt you anymore, the place where there was only love and never hate. But something's stopping you, pulling you back like gravity that you simply couldn't defy. A stranger's voice, warm and sweet like honey, cutting through the freezing cold numbness.

“If you feel like there’s another reason you should call me, then please just do it. I’m here to help.”

You feel the card clutched tightly in your hand; the hand Steve isn’t holding on to. And it pulls you back, back, back to reality. Another memory, but this time it’s a stranger with blue eyes and a friendly smile.

The specks slowly start to disappear, and you find yourself back in your bedroom. Back in Steve’s arms. Back in his warm embrace, except it does nothing to stop you from feeling so numbingly cold.

“I love you,” Steve whispers, “I love you so much, I’d die if I lost you. Please forgive me, baby. Come back to me. I won’t ever hurt you again.”

He lifts you up and hugs you once more, holding on to you so tightly as if his life depends on it. Strokes your hair and whispers sweetly in your ear, says all the words of regret that you've heard before. But you lie motionless in his arms like a broken doll, your poor cheek resting limply on his shoulder.

And it’s over Steve’s shoulder that you look down at the card in your hand, and read the man’s name, along with his number. And suddenly, a coolness washes over you.

Your finger twitches. You take a deep breath.

“Baby?” Steve draws back till you’re both face to face once more, and his eyes have those stars in them again, the stars you'd fallen in love with, the stars you'd wanted back so bad that you'd let it get this far. He cups your face, and presses his forehead against yours.

“You forgive me, don't you?"

THE END.

Okay so. That was a lot. It was a lot to write. If you're still here, then thank you for sticking around till the end. I hope you enjoyed reading it and I hope you found the story that I was trying to tell compelling. Please do let me know what you thought. What do you think reader will do now? What do you WANT her to do now? Who was the stranger? Why is Steve the way he is? IDK. Any raw thoughts and feedback would be incredible as always. Thanks so much for baring with me while I tried to post this fic. One last thing - this is a work of complete fiction. Thank you <3

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)

Masterpost

“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”

There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.

He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.

Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.

Danny was a meta and he was afraid.

That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.

(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)

However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.

(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)

Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.

Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.

However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”

Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”

“….what.”

“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”

“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.

“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”

Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.

Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )

Post Six

[gojosprettyprincess]

A/n wrote this at 5am so I apologize for any errors! <3 also it's poorly written but I hope you guys still like it.

Yk what fucking drives me crazy the most?

Sweet innocent looking men that treats you so well, I'm talking like he writes you cute poems, follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy and gets all flustered and shy when you want to go to Victoria secret to get new bras and panties but he still goes in with you anyways with his hand clinging onto your arm instead of just leaving because anything for you!!. The way his face melts into your hand whenever you'd cup his cheeks, looking at you with those innocent puppy dog eyes then he places a gentle kiss on your hand. Like he's just such a cutie you know? He'd let you do his makeup and let you baby him and feed him. Literally just anything you want he'd do it and lets you do. Whatever makes you happy.

And that same sweet innocent guy would have you against the wall, his strong arms holding you up, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he slams his hips against you, each thrust pushing you higher and higher against the wall as he let you drop back down on his fat cock after, and he's even noisier than you are, loud whimpers and groans escaping his lips as he stares at your face, feeling satisfied and happy that his thick cock is the reason for your cute fucked out expression and sweet moans that are like music to his ears. Your nails leaving long red marks on his shoulders and back that he's sooo proud of having, he loves it when you do that, it's like a reward to him for making you feel good. His big strong arms pressing your legs back even further up so your knees raised up by your shoulders, giving him a deeper angle as his cock brushed against the right spots inside you that made you see stars to the point where you can't even think straight.

"O-oh fuck! baby, need you to cum ple-ase, fuck! please, wanna see you make a mess on my cock please I'm begging you princess", his voice cracks as he whimpers it out to you. The sweet and innocent needy tone in his voice compared to his rough pounding like he fucking hates you and had to prove it was all it took for you to cream around him, nails digging deeply into his back as he's practically making out with your neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh, leaving a bunch of purple and red marks that's definitely going to make him all fluttered and shy when he sees them in a few hours, remembering about what happened earlier. His eyes rolling back when he feels you coating his cock with your cream and dripping all over him.

"Ngh! Oh fuck, Tha-nk you! Thank you so much, gon-na cum!". He cries out. Your toes curling as he sped up his pace, hammering his cock in a reckless pace into your poor cunt, his thick cock head kissing your cervix with each one of his deep thrusts as he greedily chases his orgasm. He made sure to have his cock so deep inside of you to the hilt so he can fill you up full of his cum as he painted your tight walls white, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his cock, stuffing your hungry cunt full as he lets out a shaky groan while planting his face in your neck. He starts breathing heavily, panting against your neck as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. And you know what? He slowly pulls it out of you, being sooo careful that he doesn't spill any cum as he grips on your thighs even tighter before getting on his knees and eating all of his cum out of your filthy stuffed cunt like the good boy he is, after all its his mess and well, yours also but he doesn't mind! he just wants to make it easier for you to clean you know? :(

Choso, Izuku, Armin,Yuuta, Zentisu, Kirishima, Yuuji, Kaneki, Toge.

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

1,000 follower celebration!! I love u all wow. thank you for all your support, truly. be warned, this is long. enjoy 💫

warnings: nsfw alphabet for dick grayson and jason todd, so there’s a variety of things under the cut. please proceed with caution 🩷

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

A | Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jason is very different after sex. it’s a major act of trust for him, so when it’s done, all he really wants is to be close to you. in other words: he’s a big cuddler. he’ll mumble some things into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair, and after, you usually end up ordering enough food to feed a small family, because that man can eat.

dick is a loverboy at heart. once the dust has settled and you’re both down from your highs, he’s doting on you—bringing you water, a snack, cleaning you up with a damp cloth—with doe eyes and a big old grin. always invites you to have a shower with him afterwards, and you always say yes, because his shoulder rubs are divine.

B | Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

unsurprisingly, jason has some…issues with his body from all the shit it’s been through. that being said, I think he intentionally trains his back and shoulders the most. it’s what makes him look as huge as he does. as for his favourite thing about you, jason todd is an ass man, argue with the wall. he likes something he can grab. hard.

dick grayson knows his ass is fat. he’s not shy about it. but his favourite body part is actually his arms, and how muscular they’ve become over the years. as for you, he loves your hips. they trigger something primal in him; the second you put on a fitted dress, he’s thinking about giving you his children.

C | Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

jason gets nasty. he’ll cum anywhere on your body just for the obscene sight, but he especially loves to cum in your mouth when he’s feeling that extra bit dominant. he doesn’t care if you spit or swallow, it turns him on either way—but, god, he’s proud when you open your mouth to show him it’s all gone.

let’s cut to the chase. dick wants to cum inside you over and over again. he hardly even contemplates doing it anywhere else; that man wants to fill you up and watch you drip. maybe it’s his out-of-control breeding kink, maybe it’s how intimate it feels—whatever the case may be, rest assured dick grayson loves a creampie.

D | Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

voyeurism. jason likes to watch. it happened accidentally once when he walked in on you practicing some self-care, and he’s thought about it ever since. he enjoys the performance aspect of it; it’s a power play, watching you get yourself off, knowing he’s right there but refusing to help you.

this ties in with Q, but dick borders on exhibitionism sometimes. fucking you in his car, in the bathroom at a charity event, or in a changing room—anywhere you might get caught, really—god, it gets him going. it’s the daredevil in him, constantly yearning to test the limits of what he can do.

E | Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think jason had very limited to no experience before his death, and most of what knows today he learned by being with you. ever the fast learner, though, he sure as shit knows what he’s doing now. I think he’s very in-tune with your body and his needs, and it shows in the way he fucks you.

we have to face facts here. dick definitely got around before committing to a serious relationship. despite that, I think he knows what he’s doing thanks to his impeccable observational skills; sometimes you think he knows your body better than you do (but don’t tell him that; it goes straight to his head).

F | Favorite position (this goes without saying)

jason is a sucker for good old-fashioned doggy style, of course, but fuck, does he adore the prone bone position. trapping you under his body, hitting you deep with each thrust, and he gets to watch your ass jiggle at every movement? it borders on religious ecstasy for him.

dick goes feral—feral—for the mating press position. it’s erotic, carnal, and raw, and that’s exactly what he wants when he’s fucking you. he’s also partial to cowgirl, especially when he can tell you want to take control. the view it offers him is enough to have him whining underneath you for more.

G | Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

jason is more on the serious side; sex with him, intense as it may be, is still a big act of vulnerability on his part, so he doesn’t treat it lightly. he will, however, crack a warm smile on those occasions when you make love in the small hours of the morning, when he thinks you can’t see his face clearly.

dick is a tease, and sex with him is fun. he likes to flirt with you while he bends you into compromising positions, and he gets very cocky when you cum. he can’t help but make little quips after the fact, either; “something wrong with your leg, baby?” as your limbs twitch and tremble from your orgasm. jerk.

H | Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

in keeping with his rugged exterior, jason is only doing what he needs to in order to keep things manageable and convenient. he is not dedicating hours to manscaping. much to your elation, that means he keeps his happy trail intact.

dick is a little more meticulous in his grooming, being the “pretty boy” that he is. he prefers keeping himself neatly trimmed, partly to ensure more comfort in his nightwing suit—he’s learned the hard way that the pornstar look is a one-way ticket to chafing when you’re jumping off of buildings.

I | Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

jason really restrains himself from being outwardly intimate. he finds it hard to be that vulnerable, and while he loves the passion between you when you fuck, he’s only really able to tap into the romantic aspect if he’s wholly at ease. that’s not to say it never happens! it definitely does, just give him time.

he may be cocky and unserious when he’s fucking you, but sex with dick is always very openly intimate. he sees the beauty and romance in what you do together, and it’s truly special to him that he gets to witness you like this. sex is absolutely one of the ways he expresses his love and admiration for you.

J | Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

jason only really masturbates when he’s away from you on a mission, and needs to take the edge off. it’s less interesting without you, so he wants it done quick. he imagines you touching yourself as he does it—legs wide and eyes hazy—and that gets him to his peak extremely efficiently.

dick likes to edge himself. I said what I said. he’s thinking about how he’d much rather save his load for your pretty cunt, so he’s bucking his hips and screwing his eyes shut as he forces himself to stop right before his climax, reminding himself how good it’ll feel when he gets to fill you up.

K | Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation is jason’s go-to; he gets off on dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re hardly able to speak. he also loves forced eye contact, especially when you can barely keep your eyes open. oh, and he has a massive size kink. when you’re as huge as he is, everyone is small by comparison, and he likes how big you make him feel.

say it with me. dick grayson has a breeding kink. the visual aspect of cumming inside you is enough to drive him crazy, but the thought of getting you pregnant…now that makes him rabid. face-sitting is another big one; any variation of pussy-eating drives him wild, but having you sit on his face is his favourite way to do it.

L | Location (favorite places to do the do)

if you’re at home, anywhere is fair game to jason. he’s fucking you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the sofa, against the wall, in the office—anywhere. outside of home, he’s more restrictive, but he has thought about fucking you in the batmobile on the many occasions he’s stolen it.

the bedroom is definitely dick’s favourite place to fuck you; aside from making things feel more romantic, he wants you to be comfortable as he’s bending you into crazy positions. he also loves a shower quickie and car sex, impractical though they may be. don’t worry, he’s an acrobat. it’ll work.

M | Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

is it crazy to say that jason gets turned on when you argue? because he does. a moderate disagreement where you’re getting huffy with him is a surefire way to get bent over the sofa. oh, and if he feels even a little jealousy creeping over him, you’re in for a ride. also, if you nestle into him during the night, you’ll be contending with his hard cock pressed against your lower back until one of you caves.

dick is whipped. whatever you’re doing can get him going. cooking, reading, wearing his clothes—he loves everything you do. but, he’s particularly turned on whenever you dress up for a special occasion. it can be a little inconvenient when you’re running late for an event and he’s groping you over your gown in the limo, but how can you refuse those blue eyes?

N | No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

jason would be very resistant to anything that puts him in a submissive role (this goes for ak!jason too). this includes both sex acts and the use of props/toys that take control away from him; he’s just not into it. he’d also refuse any kind of roleplay, saying it’s unnecessary. he’s a pragmatic guy.

I think dick would really dislike the idea of hurting you. he’s not opposed to spanking, and he’ll even engage in some light breath play (ahem, headlock, anyone?), but he would never take it any further than that. if he bruised you through anything other than hickies, he’d be sick with guilt.

O | Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

it should come as no surprise that jason loves receiving head. there are few sights as enticing as watching you take his cock in your mouth while he instructs you to keep your eyes on him. he’s also very skilled in returning the favour, and his preference is eating you from the back so he can see your pretty ass move each time you squirm.

you know my stance on this. dick is a munch. he’s eating pussy like it’s his last meal before the end of the world, and he’s doing it for him. needless to say, he’s fucking good at it. receiving head is quite literally the last thing on his mind. that being said, when he does remember to let you reciprocate, all he can think about is how pretty you look while doing it.

P | Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

jason can get pretty rough, and he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. sex for him is partially an emotional release. but, he’s good at alternating between destroying you one day and being gentle the next; despite his tough facade, jay enjoys soft, passionate sex as much—if not more—than you do.

dick is kind of a hedonist; once he starts feeling pleasure, he doesn’t want it to end—especially when you start feeling it too. he’s happy to give you fast and rough if it’s what you want, but his preference is sloppy, erotic fucking. the messier you get, the better. although, if he’s got you in a mating press, the roughness seeps back in quickly.

Q | Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he’ll never say no to a quickie, jason prefers to take his time with you. once he starts, he finds it hard to stop, and he loves to see how much you can take from him before you’re spent. quickies are sporadic with him; he prefers to enjoy your body at his pace.

if he gets the chance to fuck you—hell, even just tease you—dick is going to take it. he loves the thrill and the sense of urgency that comes with quickies. whether it’s a hookup in his car or an impromptu blowjob when he’s supposed to be on patrol, his eyes are lighting up like it’s christmas.

R | Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

jason is not a risk-taker. he needs time to warm to any kind of experimentation, but he’s more likely to try things on you than on himself, like using light restraints on you or dabbling in sensory play. as long as he feels he has some control.

dick is a different story. he’s willing to try most things at least once, and he’s able to laugh it off if something goes south. he’s not opposed to switching (ha) things up and giving you the lead, either; he likes a woman in charge.

S | Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

maybe it’s his extensive training, maybe it’s just who he is; whatever the case may be, jason can go for a long time. but, it’s usually just one round that he draws out so he can really work you to your limit.

dick can handle multiple rounds if you give him time. his recovery consists of burying his face between your legs until he’s ready to go again, which doesn’t take very long once you start convulsing against his tongue.

T | Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

jason wouldn’t even think to use sex toys unless you brought it up, but he’d be open to using them on you if you asked. he’s quick to see the potential in your little pink vibrator when he holds it against your clit while he fucks you, noticing how much easier it is to overstimulate you this way.

ever the experimentalist, dick isn’t opposed to trying out toys in the bedroom. in fact, he’s the one who would show up with fuzzy blue handcuffs (“I got them in my colour!”) to restrain your hands behind your back, so he can devour your cunt without interference from you.

U | Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’d like to tease you more, but jason doesn’t really have the restraint for it. as soon as you’re splayed out in front of him, he wants to take you. when he does tease, though, he likes to touch you everywhere but where you need him most, until you’re begging for him to make you feel good. then, he likes to make you regret it—over and over again.

dick is the world’s biggest tease, and you can look that up. he’s got you grinding on his lap, making out with you until you’re panting, only to say he needs to do some work as he stands up with a smirk. and when he finally gets you naked, he makes you tell him what you need while his fingers hover over your aching pussy, never reaching you.

V | Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

jason isn’t very loud at all, but the sounds he does make range from grunts and groans to the occasional low moan if you tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. he’s a big dirty talker, and he likes to get up in your ear to do it, so he knows you’re listening. he notices the way you shiver at his gravelly voice, and it drives him crazy.

dick is far less concerned about being quiet. he’s moaning, swearing, telling you how pretty you are, even occasionally whining, and he’s not worried about what your neighbours think—in fact, he’s making sure you’re just as vocal as he is, insisting you tell him how you feel. he’s also expressive when he cums, especially when he does it inside you.

W | Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I know this is controversial, but jason would never agree to a threesome. this man is possessive. the mere thought of seeing someone else touch you in front of him is enough to make him see red, so no—he’d end up committing murder (not that it’s a far leap for him on a good day).

dick has a thing for watching you work out, especially when you’re doing yoga in the living room in those skin-tight pants. watching the way your limbs elongate and contract as you bend and stretch does things to him, but he never interrupts; the images stay in his mind for those long missions.

X | X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

jason is a behemoth of a man all over. and I do mean all over. he’s packing. an easy 8 inches (slightly more), thick, with a slight upwards curve and a prominent vein from the base to the tip—which is a mauvy pink, by the way. you’re still shocked you’re able to take him, and he was too the first time.

‘prettiest man alive also has a pretty cock’ would be dick’s headline. just over 6 inches, with enough girth to make you feel full, and a rosy pink tip that matches his lips…you could honestly just stare at it if he’d let you (and he probably would). he fits you like a glove every single time.

Y | Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

jason’s sex drive is pretty consistent; it’s always simmering a little ways below the surface. he’s able to compartmentalise it when he has to, but sex doubles as a form of stress-relief for him, so it happens…often.

dick has an incredibly high sex drive. like jason, he can reel it in when needed, but if it were up to him, you’d fuck every single day, twice even. I also truly believe that he’s regularly plagued by morning wood.

Z | Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of, but the truth is jason could probably pass out in your arms about 10 minutes after you’re done. take it as a sign of how safe he feels with you as he’s snoring softly into your neck.

he’s definitely tired after sex, but dick is waiting until he notices you dozing off before he closes his eyes. once he’s out, though, good luck waking him up again without an air horn. he’s going to need his full eight hours to recharge.

[hannieehaee]

hii !! is it possible to request an ot13 reaction of svt reaction to you accidentally moaning when they suck your neck please ?

18+ / mdi

s/o accidentally moaning when they kiss at your neck

content: mention of hickeys/love bites, very suggestive, etc.

wc: 701

a/n: hi!! thank u for requesting!!

masterlist

seungcheol -

smirks into your neck as his teeth lightly knead at your skin, accompanying his love bites with light licks to alleviate any pain. hums into your skin in encouragement, murmuring at you to keep moaning his name for him, lips eventually going up to your ears to lightly pull at your love with his front teeth and whisper dirty nothings into your ear.

jeonghan -

knew his lips on your neck would have you whimpering, which was why he began kissing you there in the first place. would still get cocky about it and mutter things such as 'you like that?' or 'sound so pretty for me' into your neck with a smirk, ego growing twice its size at his effect on you.

joshua -

he'll moan into your neck just to rile you up even more. he feeds off your reactions to him, always teasing you about it in subtle ways by enticing you into giving him even more of a reaction. makes you feel slightly embarrassed but makes up for it by making you feel even better in comparison.

jun -

yet another member who moans back at you but he actually moans bc of how badly your sounds turn him on lol. breathes into your neck as his fingers dig into whichever part of you he's holding onto at the moment. encourages your moans by suckling even harder at you, licking into the bruises he leaves behind.

soonyoung -

he's so into it and so intense in the way he makes love to your neck, humming and growling(??) any time you make a noise for him. nuzzles into you in gratitude at how good and soft you are for him, taking a mental note of every sensitive spot on your neck.

wonwoo -

murmurs praise into your neck at how soft you feel against his lips and how good you are for him making such pretty sounds. slow in his movements as he takes his time kissing and licking at the parts of your neck that make you moan the most.

jihoon -

kisses at your neck in the way he likes his neck kissed at, completely in tune with your reactions seeing as his own are pretty similar. feeds off your moans and the effects they have on him. his cock would be insanely hard by the time he's done sucking at your neck.

seokmin -

have u seen him kiss at his members ... this is just a common occurrence between the two of you lol he's very used to kissing every part of you and knows which spots to kiss to get you moaning and whining for him. praises you constantly for how good and sweet you are for him, adoring every little noise you make for him.

mingyu -

so cocky about it lmao he knows his effect on you and loves it. sucks and kisses at your neck with such expertise it makes your knees tremble, which is something he also feeds off of. he needs to have you crying with just his lips, and he'll keep kissing you until he achieves it.

minghao -

your moans and whimpers do not interrupt his exploration of your neck, mapping out every favorite spot of his as he kisses and occasionally leaves a love bite to suckle more at later. hums into your neck in assurance any time you moan for him, enjoying how easily he could get such sounds out of you.

seungkwan -

with an intake of breath, he shudders at having such an effect on you with just his lips on your neck, continuing to kiss and suck at the spots he realized were most sensitive. all your sounds would go straight to his dick.

vernon -

somehow shocked at your reaction despite having kissed at your neck with that purpose in mind. would say something like 'shit, you like that? let me just-' and continue kissing at your neck to keep those sounds coming.

chan -

cutie is so cocky about your sounds, humming into your skin and egging you on to keep moaning for him. hands accompany his lips as he feels you up, doing everything in his power to make you breathe out his name in those pretty moans he loves.