#because you've torn my emotions in half

[pikahlua]

WAIT, DO YOU HAVE HIS BOOTS? CAN I BORROW THEM? I’M DYING FOR A TASTE

[changbunnies]

Lowkey, I Need You (To Move Out) 18+

♡ Pairing: Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, angst, fluff, smut with plot, mutual pining but especially lots of pining from binnie

♡ Word Count: 12k

♡ Summary: Changbin has a problem– he’s in love with his friend with benefits. And not only is he in love with her, but she’s also his roommate. Torn on what to do, the only thing he knows for certain is that something has to change soon– but is he even brave enough to spark that change, and risk their friendship?

♡ Warnings: miscommunication, but it's resolved quickly!, bin is lil insecure but we're here to make it better !!, gets a bit emotional because truly this is a love letter to changbin and how much i adore him

♡ Smut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, switch!bin with a heavy sub lean, as usual changbin is an extremely soft and perfect lover, pet names (baby, bun, bunny, honey, sweet + good boy), oral (m + f rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, begging, a tiny bit of edging, spit as lube, cock warming, unprotected piv, creampie, praise kink, body worship, face sitting

♡ Notes: this was written in response to the topic of binnie being excluded, because as a bin biased girlie it's my job to show out for him when he needs the extra love! i've been wanting to write a fwb for SO long and in true changbunnies fashion this turned out longer than i intended it to be but i just had so much fun writing it and giving binnie the attention he deserves, so i hope you enjoy it too !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

What do you do when you realize you've fallen in love with your friend with benefits? And what do you do when said friend is also your roommate? The conclusion that Changbin has reached is simple: spiral.

Well, not that spiraling is an actual choice in this scenario– he can't stop it from happening despite how desperately he wants to. He knows you aren't looking for a relationship right now, that you like what you have together because it's casual and fun.

You swore off dating apps and relationships after having your heart broken one too many times, and the only reason you're friends with benefits with Changbin is because you trust him– a trust that he is loath to break by dropping the revelation that he's fallen in love with you.

You were away from your shared apartment for the past week and a half, on a trip back to your home town to visit family. It was exhausting, but fun enough when your parents weren't driving you up the wall by pestering you with questions about when you're going to start bringing a boyfriend back home with you, you told Changbin on the phone last night whilst packing to come back to the city.

He hated the way his heart sank to the pit of his stomach when he considered the fact that he'll never be the boyfriend going home with you to meet your family. And he wants to be, fucking hell, does he want to be yours.

He wants to tell you he loves you and have it mean something more than the platonic love between friends, to take you on dates and freely hold your hand when walking through the city streets together, to share a bed with you for more than just a fuck.

How many times has he wanted to pull you back to him when you start to get up from his bed? To reach out and beg you to stay when you start to get dressed? To knock on your door late at night and lay everything out on the line because the way it keeps him up at night is becoming unbearable?

Fuck, he can't keep dwelling on it– you've been on your way home since this morning, and you're due back any minute now. It'll be disastrous for Changbin if you walk through the door and realize something's off with him.

His heart twisted when he checked his phone and saw a new text, one excitedly telling him you're almost home and that you've missed him– but was it really him you missed, or just fucking him? He didn't know anymore, and he was afraid to find out.

Changbin jumps when he hears the lock to the front door click, taking a breath to calm his racing heart as he rises to his feet to help you with your luggage and welcome you back home. 

He’s spent enough time spiraling over what to do this past week, he can’t afford to anymore; not if he wants to keep his sanity intact, anyways. He can do this– once you get settled, he can have a heart to heart with you, and everything will be fine. Even if it’s too much to confess his feelings, surely there’s a way to go about things where you’re both still happy, right?

Changbin did a lot around the apartment to make it perfect for you upon your return– cleaned and dusted every common room until they were spotless, made sure not a single dirty dish was left in the sink, emptied every trash can.. He even unclogged the drains and scrubbed the tub! He just wanted to make sure you didn’t have a single thing to do, that you could just relax and unwind in clean comfort after your trip. 

But you don’t spare a single glance around the apartment once you enter– you look just at him, smiling as you kick the door closed behind you, and drop your luggage to the floor to squeeze him into a hug. 

He blinks a moment in surprise at how quick the action is– he didn’t even have the chance to get a word out before you were on him. Still, he quickly returns the hug while trying his best to prevent the happy, almost relieved sigh you let out as you bury your head into his chest from giving him false hope.

“You really missed me this much?” Changbin asks with a small giggle– why is he even asking? So much for not giving himself false hope. He just blurted it out without thinking, really; but he can’t pretend the way you affirm it doesn’t make his heart swell. 

It was the longest you’d ever been apart from Changbin since moving in together, and it put a lot of things into perspective. Like, you really did miss him, of course you did, he’s your friend! But there was something more– you don’t think you’d ever missed someone so fucking badly before. 

Like, staying up all night because you can’t stop thinking about him type of ‘I miss you.’ Wanting to text him or call him at all hours of the day just to check up on him and ask what he’s been up to even though you’re supposed to be focusing on your family and reuniting with childhood friends.

You missed everything about him– his smile and cute laugh, the way he smells, his big arms wrapped around you and squeezing you close. You wanted to hear his voice again, and not through the grainy speaker of your phone, wanted to see him without your parent’s shitty old wifi connection lagging your call, and making him pixelated and blurry.

Changbin is your home, you realized; wherever he is is where you want to be. As long as he’s there, you’d have everything you need to be happy. Is that too sentimental of a feeling for just friends?

Yes, you know it is– and every time you felt it for him before, you shoved it down as deep you could, not ready to get your heart broken again just yet. Better to hold onto him for as long as you can, before he cuts things off to start dating again.

But of course, you can’t deny you also missed him in other, less than innocent ways. The squeak he lets out when you surprise him with a kiss, the cute way he blushes and giggles when you compliment him or call him his favorite pet name, the way he’ll easily drop to his knees for you the moment you tell him you need him. 

He never cares what he’s in the middle of or what he needs to get done– if you tell him you want him, he’s ready for you, eager to please. Even if he loses sleep, if it makes him late for work, if it means the food on the stove is going to burn– none of it matters if you need his tongue on you. And you’ll reward him, you always do; with sweet words and touches that makes his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest while his cock throbs.

“Missed you more than you know,” you say in a near whisper, pressing your lips to his like you’ve been eager to do since walking through the door. Changbin practically melts when you kiss him, as always; he just can’t help it– he’s forever going to be putty in your hands. 

Was he right in his fear that you only missed him for the sex? Maybe, but he can’t even dwell on the idea anymore– not when the urgency in which you start touching him underneath his shirt while sliding your tongue in his mouth makes him weak at the knees.

Fuck it, maybe that is all you want him for these days, but he’d never stop giving you what you want. Use him over and over, run his heart into the ground when it’s done, what does it matter? At least in this moment he’s yours, even if it’s only temporary. 

You grab Changbin by the waist and turn him around, pressing his back against the front door to the apartment. One of his feet very nearly gets caught up on your luggage on one of his steps back, but you kick it to the side, away from the two of you. His sound of surprise is muffled by your mouth on his, as is his gasp when your hands travel up to squeeze his pecs.

You can feel his body shudder when your thumbs brush over his nipples, letting out a whine when you pinch them between your fingers. He’s breathless by the time you pull away, watching you with that eager look in his eyes that makes you crazy for him. “B-Baby, what are you-” he tries to ask as you fall to your knees, though the last word dies in his throat when you look back up at him with a smile. 

He still remembers the first time he slipped up and called you “baby.” You were on top of him, riding him so good that all he could do was babble on and on about how good it felt while gripping the bed sheets beneath him. “S-So good, oh my god, baby, it’s– you’re so good, feels so good,” he whimpered, whining loudly when you stopped moving to just look at him.

Changbin was going to ask why you stopped, beg you to please, please keep going, but then it hit him all at once– he called you ‘baby’ when it was never something either of you had done before. And instantly, he looked up at you utterly mortified with himself, ready to apologize over and over again for crossing the line in your friends with benefits relationship.

While the arrangement didn’t come with strict rules, such as no kissing for example, he still was concerned that it was a touch too far in the ‘romantic relationship’ direction. But to his surprise, and relief, you smiled at him, calling him sweet names in return after picking your pace back up. You continued to try out names, gauging his reaction carefully until you found the one that seemed to make him react the most.

And now here you are, looking up at him with his cock pulled out of his sweatpants and throbbing in your hands, calling him the name that turns his brain and body to jelly. “Want to show you how badly I missed you, bunny,” you told him before pressing a lingering kiss to his already leaking tip, his pre-cum smearing over your lips.

Thank fucking God you pressed him against the door, because if he didn’t have the support he’s pretty sure his legs would’ve given out. It’s not often that you’re the one on your knees for him, and the sight is so erotic it makes his brain feel like it’s going to melt out of his ears– not to mention the way you’re talking to him on top of it.

“So hard and leaky already,” you comment gleefully, sticking out your tongue to lick over his tip, “you missed me too, didn’t you, bun?” 

“Y-Yeah, missed you, I missed you so much,” Changbin replies breathlessly, struggling to keep his hips still and not rut against your hands. He bites his lip, restraining the whimpers that threaten to endlessly spill when you open your mouth to take him in.

You don’t waste any time getting the corners of your mouth used to the stretch, or for Changbin to get used to the feeling after having gone without it for so long; you take him all at once, until his tip is touching the back of your throat and your nose is pressed against his pelvis. 

His head falls back against the door as he squeezes his eyes shut, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the obscenely loud moan you draw out of him. Normally he pays no mind to his volume because he knows you prefer him loud, but he’d be beyond embarrassed if any neighbors walking the hall heard him just on the other side of the door. 

You swallow around his length, and it takes effort to not gag given how thick and heavy he is, but you manage just fine. Breathing through your nose, you stroke his cock with your tongue whenever you need to give your throat a tiny break, sometimes pulling back to take a bigger breath and let more air into your lungs before sucking him into your mouth again. 

Changbin cards his fingers through your hair, but doesn’t pull– just holds your head in an effort to ground himself. His thighs are trembling, and he’s seemingly given up on trying to be quiet, or is simply too far gone to care anymore, the hand he was using to cover his mouth now clenched into a fist at his side.

“W-Wait, wait, baby, please wait, don’t wanna cum yet,” he pleads as his stomach clenches, the twitching and throbbing of his cock growing more in intensity. He’s lifted his head from the door, looking down at you now and meeting your gaze as you blatantly ignore his request and continue to swallow him down your throat.

“Please, please, your pussy– want your pussy, honey, please,” he tries again, chest heaving as he begs, the fingers threaded through your hair now clenching into a fist as well, but still, he doesn’t pull you off him. That’s one of the things you like most about Changbin– he’s so strong that it’d be easy for him to make you do whatever he wants, but he doesn’t. 

Even now, as desperate as he is to be inside your pussy, he’s obedient, first and foremost. How can you resist giving him what he wants when he’s so sweet, perfect and well behaved? You pull off him with a loud ‘pop,’ watching the way his cock throbs pathetically against his stomach as his impending orgasm begins to ebb away.

You expect him to take a longer moment to recover, but even with how breathless he is, he’s leaning down to pick you up from the floor. You can’t help but let out a squeal as you’re lifted from the ground– you know very well that Changbin is strong, but it always surprises you how effortlessly he can lift your weight. Excites you too, if you’re being completely honest. 

He has you in a full princess carry, one arm supporting your back while the other is under your knees. You know he won’t drop you, but you wrap your arms around his neck anyway for the extra security. He shows his appreciation for you with so many kisses over your face that you can’t help but giggle, and he holds you tighter when his kisses cause you to squirm in his grasp.

“Don’t tickle me with kisses when I can’t escape you,” you half-heartedly complain, and he giggles with you, pressing one more to your nose before he starts walking away from the front door. “We’re going to your room,” he informs you, figuring that’s where you’d prefer to me after having been away from home. 

Your luggage lies forgotten on the floor as he makes his way past the open kitchen and living room, and into the hallway leading to your rooms. Standing in front of your door, you lean in his grasp to twist the door knob, and he gently nudges the door open further with his foot. Your bedroom is just how you left it a week and a half ago, and Changbin sets you down on your bed carefully.

“Are you going to undress yourself for me?” you ask with an expectant tilt of your head, and he blushes ever so slightly as he shyly giggles and nods. It never fails to make him a little shy when you watch him undress like this, but he also takes pride in the way you look at him. Hungry, but somehow still tender and sweet. 

He starts with his sweatpants and underwear, considering his cock is still out from when you pulled them down just enough to get it out. Kicking his feet out once they’ve fallen to the floor, his shirt is next, and he very quickly pulls it up and over his head. “My baby,” you coo at him after beckoning him closer, and it makes his head spin. 

It’s the first time you’ve used a possessive term with him. Your baby.. Yes, whether you know it or not, he’s yours. Only yours. 

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you continue, smiling when the pink on his flushed cheeks deepens, “And sexy, and adorable, and lovable.” You love complimenting him– even before you were friends with benefits, you’d tell him sweet things whenever you could. It took him a long time to grow into himself and get comfortable and confident in his own skin, and he deserves the pride and joy he feels now. 

Lovable is a new one, and he tries not to let it root itself inside his head– you certainly do love him, but just as a friend, he knows it. You’ve always been sweet to him, and he’s certain that your doting on him and sweet gestures increased only because of the slight change in your relationship, and no other reason. 

Regardless, does the reason matter? You’re complimenting him earnestly, and that’s enough. Even if it’s said without romantic intent, you do mean it– and that’s all he needs, really.

“Help me out with my own clothes now, won’t you, sweet boy?” you ask, and he gives you an excited nod that makes you giggle again. You lift your back off the bed so he can help you with your top and bra, then lift your legs so he can help you out of your pants and underwear when you let your back fall against the bed again. 

He kisses you the entire time he’s getting you out of your clothes, only breaking away when he has to. “Gonna get you ready for me,” he breathes out near the shell of your ear before planting a kiss there, and then trailing them down your neck. He slides his hand between your legs as he does, and you spread them apart for him to make his task easier for him. 

You both know you can handle the sting from his cock stretching you out, sometimes you even crave it– but you can never deny his desire to be sweet to you. If he wants to stretch you out on his fingers first, you’ll let him do it every time. 

“Oh, honey, you’re so wet,” he gasps as he runs his fingers between your folds. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise, really– you always get soaking wet when you and Changbin are being intimate. Still, it always surprises him as much as it did your first time together; he supposes there’s a part of him that still can’t believe you’re this physically attracted to him, even with how much you shower him with compliments. 

Of course, if you knew he had that thought, you’d shower him with even more of them, until there wasn’t a single doubt left in his mind. He’s perfect, truly; there’ll never be anyone who can compare to Changbin.

You don’t need him to start slow or careful, but he does regardless, starting by pressing just one of his fingers to your hole before sliding it inside. He knows you can take more at once, would even enjoy the sting that would follow, but he wants to be good to you! When you’re full of him, so thick that you’re full to the point it’s almost too much, he wants it to be pure bliss. 

Changbin pumps his finger in and out of you slowly, waiting until he’s certain you’re about to start whining for more before adding a second, and after just a little more he’s adding a third. He keeps his fingers still for just a moment, making sure you’re well adjusted before he starts to thrust them in and out in the way he knows you love.

And God, even though it’s you that’s getting fucked right now, he feels like he’s going a little crazy. He’s so addicted to the noises you make, the way your breathing starts to hitch and turn more shallow, how your eyes roll back when he hits that gummy spot inside you. You’re so fucking slick, and squeezing his fingers so tight that he can barely even think straight– not that he was entirely to begin with. 

Is it just because it’s been over a week since the last time you were together? He never thought himself so insatiable or easily worked up, but fuck, you just unlock something in him. He’s had sex plenty of times before you started sleeping together, had plenty of fun experiences with different partners, but only you make me feel so.. needy.

“Binnie, baby, want your cock now, give it to me, please,” you whine, voice impossibly pretty and breathless. “Ah but– are you sure, baby? Don’t want me to make you cum first?” he asks as he slows down the motion of his fingers. 

“We’ve both waited long enough, haven’t we?” you ask, rhetorical; it’s much more a statement than a question. You look at his cock, still leaking steadily and impossibly hard, and then look back to Changbin’s face. “Let’s cum together. That’s what I want,” you tell him, and you can’t help but notice the way his cock twitches from your words in your peripheral. 

Of course, he can’t resist doing whatever you want– especially not when there’s a promise to cum together at the end. So he slips his fingers out of you, and before he can even ask what you’d like him to do, you’re putting your hands on his shoulders and guiding him to his back. 

He falls to his back easily, swallowing as he watches you crawl on top of him. You’ve done it countless times at this point, but it never stops being sexy and exciting to watch. Your hands planted firmly on his chest, and your legs straddling his body, you move your hips back and forth, rubbing your pussy up and down his length to get it wet. 

His tip rubbing against your clit feels so fucking good too, but that’s not why you’re doing this; so you quickly move on before you get carried away and end up grinding on him until you cum. Reaching your hand between your bodies, you grab his cock at the base and angle it where you need it. 

Changbin watches with eager eyes and bated breath, his hands holding your hips for extra support. Even when you start to slowly sink down on him, and you’re both gasping and breathless from the pleasure, he’s careful to not squeeze you too hard. He’s always so tender and careful, even when doesn’t need to be, and you love him for it. 

And true to what he hoped, there’s no sting when you’re fully sat on him, the stretch nothing but pleasurable for you. Because of this, it also means you don’t have to start slow– and so within just a few short moments, you’re bouncing on him rapidly, leaning down to kiss him as you do. 

He has long since stopped being embarrassed about the noises you draw out of him, whimpering and moaning freely as the pleasure seeps into every pore of his body. Your tongue once again slips its way into his mouth, and he meets it eagerly with his own, happy to slide it around yours. 

Bouncing on his cock, and kissing him like this, he can’t help but be reminded of the very first time you slept together. You had just freshly agreed to the friends with benefits arrangement, both of you lonely and in need of some intimacy, but being done with relationships for the time for your own reasons. 

You took the lead, and it was the first time anyone ever had– he was so used to being the macho man in charge for his lovers, that he found it interesting and exciting that you wanted to be the one in control. You told him what to do, how to do it, praised him and guided him along, had him lay down while you crawled on top and did all the work for him after you were ready to take his cock.

And to his surprise, he instantly liked it– loved it, even. He never considered before then letting someone else have the leading role in bed, but after you started, it just felt natural. And when you leaned down and kissed him in that moment, when everything was so different for him and exciting, it felt like everything shifted, like the entire world titled on its axis. 

Maybe he’s been in love with you since then, but only fully realized what he felt recently. Maybe he’s been in love since even further before, but didn’t have the tools then to put that feeling together, because the line between friend and lover can sometimes be blurry. Maybe he’s been a fool this entire time, and continues to be one now– because he knows what he feels now for certain, but is still too scared to admit it to you. 

He’s thankful that your tongue in his mouth prevents him from speaking– because he’s certain if it wasn’t, he’d end up saying something he shouldn’t. It doesn’t stop him from having the thoughts internally, however.

“You’re so perfect, I love you, I love you so much, I need you, need you to need me, love you,” his brain is screaming as his orgasm approaches once more. The noises leaving him growing more in volume and desperation is enough of a warning for you on its own that he’s close, but you can feel him throbbing too, eager for release after how close he was to cumming earlier.

You reach your hand between your bodies once more, this time to rub your clit with your fingers. It makes your pace falter a bit, but Changbin is more than used to helping you in the last stretch like this. He helps you keep your pace with his hands, and thrusts up into you in time with the fall of your hips onto his.

“C-Cumming, oh, bunny, you’re making me cum,” you whimper, biting your lip and furrowing your brow as the circles you draw on your clit grow messy. You gasp when your orgasm hits you, your breath catching in your throat as your mouth hangs open in a silent cry. Changbin was already close, and the way you squeeze around him as you cum unravels him too. 

His cum shoots inside you, hot and sticky, his entire body trembling as he whimpers and whines beneath you. He’s not sure when he closed his eyes, but when he opens them he sees you looking down at him with such a beautiful smile that he truly feels like he died and went to heaven– because fuck, you’re an angel. 

Changbin reaches a hand up, tucks your messy, fallen strands of hair behind your ears, smiling when you coo and call him a “sweet boy,” again. You let your body fall against his chest, resting your head in the crook of his neck as you close your eyes and let out a content sigh. “Baby?” he questions, giggling a little when you mumble about being tired against his skin. 

“We have to get you cleaned up,” he reminds you, though the way he strokes your back surely doesn’t give you any motivation to get off him. “And you need to go to the bathroom before you fall asleep!” he adds, and you hum an acknowledgment, but still make no effort to crawl off him. Instead, your body relaxes even further, and soon enough you’re not even responding to him talking to you anymore.

You’ve fallen asleep much quicker than Changbin would’ve ever expected; he’s sure you’re tired from the days you spent away and the trip back home, and the fact that you fucked him immediately upon getting home likely didn’t do you any favors in keeping the fatigue at bay.

But he’s still here in your bed, beneath you, your body warm and soft and entirely limp as serene snores leave you. He’s not sure if he should try to wiggle his way out from under you, or just stay like this and sleep together. He knows what he wants to do, but.. he’s never spent an entire night in your room, nor have you done so in his.

And all he can think about while he looks up at your ceiling with you in his arms is how much he loves you but can’t tell you.

Fuck. What does he do now?

It’s been days since Changbin has had the chance to speak with you, but whether or not that’s entirely a good thing remains to be seen– because even with the distance to sort himself out, his mind remains addled and plagued by the desire to be with you as a lover. 

Thankfully, you haven’t noticed anything off with him– mostly because the distance since arriving back home was due to your own need to catch up on sleep, unpack your belongings, and get ready to go back to work and resume life as usual. Whenever you’re not sleeping, you’re busy, and that works for Changbin– or it was supposed to, anyways.

All he’s done the last few days is get back into his spiral. Confess his feelings or not, risk your friendship or keep everything to himself, move out before he loses his mind or stay until the day you decide you’re done.. He wishes there was a simple, easy answer. More than that, he wishes he could guarantee that you’d stay with him if he laid his feelings bare for you.

And he misses you. You’re only a room away across the hall, but he misses you. And he doesn’t fucking know what to do with himself anymore. He’s been trying to sleep for hours now, but all he can do is toss and turn and think about you, how bad he needs you– not just emotionally, but physically too. Because the moment he started thinking about you, it was only a matter of time before he began to reminisce about the sex you’ve had. 

Is his brain fucking against him, or what? As if it wasn’t bad enough he was in a spiral over the possibility of you rejecting his feelings, now he can’t stop thinking about how pretty you looked after your shower this morning. He only saw you in passing, as he had to head out for work and you had to get back to catching up on the work emails that piled up in your inbox while you were away, but God..

If it wasn’t for the fact that you really needed to get your work done before going back to the office when the weekend’s over, he would’ve dropped to his knees right there in the middle of the hallway and eaten you out until you were begging him to stop (or forcing him to by pulling his hair.) He wouldn’t even have cared about his own job– Chan would forgive him, he always did.

And truly, this is agony. Worse than agony, it’s torture. He needs to go take a cold shower and calm the fuck down so he can start thinking rationally again– as rationally as he can manage to in his lovesick state, anyways. With a heavy sigh, he throws his blankets off himself and reaches for his glasses on his nightstand. After putting them on, he rises from his bed, hoping the shower will be enough of a reset to let him get some sleep.

Opening his door, he’s surprised to see you’re awake. Well, he can’t see you just yet from the hallway, but he can see that the lamp in the living room is turned on, and can faintly hear the tv playing lofi focus music. And even though he probably shouldn’t, he can’t resist walking over to check in on you. 

He can hear you typing away on your laptop as he gets closer, and you look away from the screen and turn your head in his direction when you hear his footsteps over the softly playing music. “Oh, Binnie!” you smile at him, and it’s so genuine it makes his heart flutter. He’s so fucking screwed. “Couldn’t sleep?” you ask him, taking a small break from responding to emails to give him your attention.

“O-Oh, yeah, well I was trying to sleep, but..” he trails off when he sees you glancing down his body, to the painfully obvious erection straining against his shorts. “Had a problem?” you finish for him, and his face instantly flushes red. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve caught him with an erection, but it always makes him feel so perverted when it happens this way. 

“I can help you,” you offer, shooting him that pretty smirk that always turns him into jello. Fuck, you’re a siren, and he’s helpless to resist you. But still, aren’t you busy? As much as he’s willing to fuck up his own work performance for you, he’d feel terrible if his neediness made your own work harder for you. 

“I-I was going to shower and take care of it myself, but I saw you were awake and I just wanted to see what you were doing and.. Anyways, you don’t have to! Seriously, I know you’re busy! It’s okay, I don’t-” he babbles, and you giggle at him. He’s just so cute, especially when he’s trying his best to be considerate to you. 

“C’mere. I can’t help you right this minute but good boys like you know how to be patient, right? You can sit pretty here until I’m done with my emails?” you ask, patting the spot next to you on the sofa. Shit, you always know just what to say to him. 

He listens to your siren song, coming to where you beckon him to sit like the obedient boy you know him to be. “Take your cock out for me, baby,” you instruct, and again he listens, not a single ounce of hesitance as he slides his shorts down enough for his erection to spring free. He watches as you set your laptop on the coffee table and stand up, curious as to what you’re doing.

Changbin gulps when you slide your own shorts down your legs, as well as your panties, and fuck, he’s excited, but more than that he’s confused. He thought you told him he’d have to wait until you were done with your emails.. So why are you undressing already..? 

Maybe this is to keep him hard and eager– make him sit there with a view of your bare pussy so that by the time you’re done, he’s desperate and begging for you. Maybe you want to test the limits of your “good boy,” see how riled up you can make him while you work until he snaps and bends you over the sofa, taking you as he pleases. 

You stand in front of him with your back facing him, and though it’s a bit awkward and challenging, you reach behind and take his cock into your hand. “Spit on it, get it wet for me,” you tell him, and though his mind is still reeling from the unexpected development, he does as you ask. 

You spread his saliva around his length as best you can with your fingers, and when you’re content, you carefully press his cock to your hole. It takes you a second to get the angle right thanks to the position, but once you’ve got it, you slowly start to sink down. Changbin gasps and whines, bewildered by what’s happening right now. “B-Baby, I- what- what are you doing? I thought- I don’t-” 

“You’re still going to wait,” you tell him after you’ve fully sat in his lap, doing your best to keep your voice steady and firm despite how deliciously his cock is stretching out. “Be good for me, and stay still ‘til I’m done, okay? And then I’ll take care of you,” you tell him, and again he whines as he watches you lift your laptop from the coffee table and set it back in your lap. 

It’s a little awkward to type like this, but you think the fun that’ll result from it is worth it. Changbin eagerly nods his head, but then he remembers that you can’t see him in this position, so he speaks the best he can. “Y-Yes, I’ll be good for you,” he says with a shaky breath, biting his lip when you squirm ever so slightly to get more comfortable.

You lean back into him, his chest pressing against your back, his face close enough to your neck and shoulder that you can feel his labored breaths tickling your skin. He hears a click on your touchpad, opening a new email he assumes, followed shortly by the sound of keys resuming as you respond to it. 

Why is this so fucking hot? His dick is fully pressed inside you, and you’re not even paying attention to him– just continuing to type away on your laptop as if he’s not even losing his mind beneath you. Or should he say behind you? Both? 

He bites his lip and closes his eyes, trying his best to keep staying still like you told him to, his hands clutching the sofa cushions to keep them from wandering without permission and distracting you from your work. 

And God, he’s trying so hard to be quiet too, but it feels so impossible. The more you type away and click open new emails, the more he throbs. And the more he throbs, the more your pussy reacts by squeezing around him. And then he can’t help but whimper, his eyes rolling back when you adjust in his lap and cause the tiniest bit of friction. 

Click, more typing. A few more clicks, more typing. Click, click, more typing. How long has it even been? Since the moment you sank down on him and started working, he feels like he’s lost all sense of time. All he knows is that your pussy has been squeezing him so good– and it’s so wet now too. Is it just as exciting for you as it is for him? Do you like it? Or is it how good he’s being for you that’s making you soak his cock? 

“B-Baby, are you almost done? Please tell me you’re almost done,” Changbin whines, the desperation in his voice palpable. You chuckle as you click send on another email, wishing you could see his face right now– you’re sure he’s absolutely debauched. “Not quite,” you answer, and you can practically hear the pout in his whine.

Changbin is many things, but impatient and disobedient is not among the list. And he’s trying so, so hard to keep staying still, but he doesn’t think he can take it much longer. Honestly, you’re not sure if you can either– you’re quickly losing focus on your emails, and you’re fairly certain at least a handful of them were written less than professionally. 

Still, you click open another one, trying not to react to the way he desperately whimpers. He can’t be bad, he can’t– so his only option is to keep sitting here, and take it. “You’re- you’re almost done now, right?” he asks after another few minutes of waiting– at least, it felt like that to him. For all he knew, in reality it could’ve been more like 30 seconds. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t wait anymore?” It’s a bit of a mean question, you know– especially since you already know the answer. But still, it’s fun to ask, and you love how whiny and breathy his voice has gotten in the time you’ve been sitting on his cock. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m really trying, I just- I-I’ve never wanted to fuck you so bad before, I’m going crazy,” he practically cries, and you’re sure that if you turned around, you’d see his plump lips formed into the cutest, most devastating pout. “But I’m- I’m good,” he continues after taking another shaky breath, “I won’t move, not unless you tell me to, I promise.”

Fuck it– you still have work, but who cares? Surely your boss will understand if you couldn’t get to every email right? You got through most of them, and that counts for something, doesn’t it? That’s the justification you give yourself anyways as you close your inbox. 

“You want to fuck me, Binnie?” you ask him, and he eagerly nods just as he did before, remembering again at the last moment that you can’t see him. “Yes, yes! I really, really want to,” he replies, letting out a salacious moan when you start to lift off him. You shut your laptop and place it back on the coffee table before you turn around to look at Changbin.

Just as you expected, he looks deliciously debauched. Lips swollen and bitten red, face flushed, eyes sparkling with hope and desire as he looks up at you. “You’re right baby, you’re good. Such a good boy,” you coo at him, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. “How do you want me?” you ask him when you pull back, and his brain has to work overtime to stop itself from short circuiting from the question.

If you’re letting him pick, there’s one clear answer that’ll make him the happiest. “Lay down- on your back, please. Want to look at you, want you to look at me,” he says, and you smile at him as you lay back against the sofa, spreading your legs so Changbin can crawl between them. He kisses you as he takes his cock in his hand, pressing it against your hole before pulling away to look at you for approval.

“Go ahead, fuck me, bunny,” you encourage him sweetly. A shiver runs down the length of his spine as he starts to push back inside you, another obscene whine from deep in his throat leaving him when he’s fully inside. He leans down to kiss you again when he starts to fuck you earnestly, because that’s all he can think to do with his overwhelming wave of emotions. 

He’s thrusting fast from the start, all the pent up desperation and need for you pouring out of him ceaselessly. Your eyes always stay on his, even when he hits your spot in the way that normally makes them close or roll back, and it makes him crazy how you’re catering to his desire to have you looking at him.  

Your eyes are so pretty, so warm in the way they look at him. Everything about you is warm– your hands when they hold him, your body when it envelops him, your voice when you speak to him. The way you smile at him when he enters the room, the way you laugh at his stupid jokes, it’s warm, all of you is so, so warm. You’re home, you’re comfort, you’re bliss.

He feels like he’s unraveling in his entirety as he looks down at you, his pace quickly growing sloppy as his cock throbs. He can’t handle the way you’re looking up at him, can feel the tears threatening to well up in the corners of his eyes. He’s so overwhelmed by it all– by the pleasure, by the way you look lying beneath him, by how much he loves you. 

“You’re so beautiful, oh my god,” he whines, every thought that’s been running through his mind falling from his lips as he squeezes you in his arms. He knows he should shut up, should bite his lip or slap his hand over his mouth before he says something he shouldn’t, but the words just keep pouring out of him. 

“You’re so pretty, so fucking pretty, I can’t take it sometimes,” he continues, whimpering when you bring your fingers to your clit and start to squeeze around him tighter. “You- you make me so crazy, you’re perfect, so perfect, and- God, ‘m so close, love you so much, I love you,” he stutters, his eyes rolling back as he feels you start to cum with him. He presses his cock fully into you one last time, his cum spurting out in thick ropes until you’re full.

He’s panting, glasses fallen down to the tip of his nose, body trembling as he slowly starts to come down from the high. “Binnie,” you call him softly, and it’s not until he opens his eyes and looks at you again that what he said hits him like a ton of bricks.

He told you he loves you. While he was fucking you. He told you he loves you.

There’s no way to turn it out around as platonic in this scenario– it’s so fucking obvious how he meant it. To say he’s mortified is an understatement; and when he tries to speak, all that comes out are pathetic stutters, every explanation he wants to offer dying in his throat. Your eyes are watery as you look at him, and suddenly his throat feels impossibly dry, his hands clammy as he pulls out of you. 

He fucked up so bad. He ruined everything, he knows he did– this isn’t how he wanted to tell you, he wasn’t even ready to tell you. And now you know, and you’re looking at him with so much concern he feels like he’s going to shatter. Not anger, not sadness, but care– a care entirely different from what he’s seen on you before.

It’s pity, isn’t it? You don’t share the sentiment and you pity him for blurting it out like that. “You love me?” you ask him, your voice soft but cautious, unsure. “I..” Changbin tries again, but honestly he just wants to cry. Every emotion, every word, lodged in his throat and stuck, but still he tries to explain himself. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean-”

You’ve always loved Changbin. Since the early days of your friendship, you’ve loved him. How could you not? You’d never met someone as sincere as him, his every action so affectionate and caring. A gentleman through and through, always making sure the people he loves are taken care of, always the first to offer a helping hand when someone is in need. 

But you’d given up on the idea that you could have something more so long ago– and becoming friends with benefits with him told you that he didn’t love you romantically. He was the first to offer, and people don’t offer that arrangement if it risks their feelings getting exposed; so he didn’t love you that way, you were certain. 

You told yourself you were okay with that. You were done with relationships, so tired of having your heart broken after pouring all of your love and faith into someone. And sure, you’d be heartbroken again when Changbin inevitably decides to move on, but at least it was a heartbreak you accepted would come, you’d be ready for it– that’s what you always told yourself.

But he loves you? Like, is in love with you? And he’s mistaking your surprise, your teary eyes, your struggle to wrap your head around the fact that he loves you as much as you love him as rejection. You can see it in the panic in his eyes, the way he stumbles over his words, the tremble in his voice– he thinks you don’t love him. 

How could he ever think you don’t love him? 

“Changbin, I-” you try again, and somehow the fact that you’re using his full name hurts worse; it's like a confirmation that you’re done with him, with this. It’s irrational, but the part of his brain that’s trying to talk sense into him is drowned out by the panic and fear of rejection, as if he can protect himself from the pain by accepting the fact that you don’t love him now before you say it out loud. 

“I need- I need a minute, I’m so sorry,” he blurts out, because even though he knows it’s coming, he can’t bear to hear it yet. He scrambles up from the sofa, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill as he rushes back to his room. He falls to his bed, burying his face into his pillows and lets out a trembling breath. 

Tomorrow.. He can’t avoid this, knows he needs to accept it sooner rather than later, but for this tiny moment, at least until tomorrow, he’s still yours.

Changbin isn’t avoiding you. At least, not on purpose– he just hasn’t gathered the courage to leave his room yet. He feels a bit like a hypocrite; he prides himself on his communication skills, and yet in the face of an honest conversation and acceptance of rejection, he flounders. Is he pathetic? You’d have every right to think so. 

Are you going to move out now? Should he? No, he should stop beating around the bush and just talk to you. You’re not in love with him, but you do love him– and that’s supposed to be enough, he told himself so many times that it is. 

You can work past this, can’t you? It has to be possible. He just doesn’t want to lose you, even if it breaks his heart he can take not having you romantically, is totally fine without the sex– but losing you as a friend? He can’t bear that.

He sighs, covering his face with his hands as he lies in his bed. He slept like shit, and he’s sure you didn’t fare much better– a thought that adds to the guilt he feels. But fuck, he needs to face this. The only thing that would be worse than losing you as a friend because being friends with benefits blew up in his face would be losing you because he was a spineless coward. 

Changbin grabs his phone, checks the time– it’s still early in the morning, but you’re usually awake by now. With another sigh to steel himself for what’s to come, he gets up from his bed and faces his door. He takes a breath, another attempt to calm his nerves, and walks to his door, quickly twisting the knob and pulling it open. 

“Oh!” you squeak in surprise, jumping where you stand before him. Changbin jumps too, with his own little shout of surprise coming out. How long were you standing outside of his door? Were you trying to work up the nerve to talk to him too? You blink at one another for a moment, and to Changbin’s relief, you’re the first to crack, letting out a little giggle. 

He giggles too, and though it’s a bit awkward given what happened late last night, it’s a relief that you’re not mad at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Changbin explains through his giggles, and God, your smile is so cute. You cover your mouth as you try to stop giggling, eyes crinkling and sparkling as you look at him, “No, no! It’s my fault for standing outside your door like this.” 

It eases him, feels more like the normal he’s used to with you– the normal he hopes and prays you can still share after this. “Can I come in?” you ask him, and of course he lets you, stepping to the side so you can enter his room. Your body language is still relaxed, but when you look at him again, your expression is serious.

Part of him worries that the lighthearted moment you just shared was a lapse in judgment on your part, and that you’re about to chew him out for running away last night– not that he wouldn’t deserve it if you did. But what you actually end up saying is a much stronger shock to his system. “Why do you think I don’t love you?”

“Wh-What? I-I.. I don’t-” Changbin stutters, blinking at you in utter shock, not even entirely sure how to respond.

“Because I do. I love you so much, Seo Changbin. The idea that you think I don’t hurts me,” you tell him, entirely sincere. That’s the part of his impromptu confession that kept you up at night, the part that upset you? Not that he loves you when he shouldn’t, or that your friendship might be ruined?

“If you think you’re not enough for me, you are– if you think you aren’t deserving of love, you are. Tell me what it is, so I can make sure you never question how much I love you again. Okay? I need you to promise me that.”

Changbin blinks, frozen, a million thoughts and emotions running through him. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t know the answer. There was such a big chunk of his life where he wasn’t happy with himself– the way he looked, the soft parts of his personality, his desires that felt so grandiose and impossible.. 

He thought he had to live to what other people expected him to be, that it was the only way they would love him. It took him years of effort, of stumbling and falling and getting back up to get where he is now. More confident in his body, in the way he walks through the world, in the love he pours into his family and friends.

But there’s that part of his old self that still lingers– a part that calls to him late at night, that makes him question if he’s allowed to be this happy. That reminds him it’s still there when he’s weak and unsure, that crawls up his spine whenever you smile at him, that won’t let him believe that you could love him. 

Changbin isn’t the same lanky, insecure boy he was when he first met you, but maybe he is. He looks different than he did then, but maybe that part of him is still there, underneath the built up muscle and maturity. Maybe it always will be, maybe there’s no way to ever make it go away– but maybe he doesn’t need to.

He thinks of all the times you were there for him, from the very first day you met. How you always encouraged him to do what makes him happy, how you supported him through his every decision to better himself. 

“I think you’re perfect the way you are, but if going to the gym would make you feel better about yourself, you should do it!” you told him when he brought up the topic of trying to bulk up and fill out his body. “You’re so adorable Binnie, seriously, how can you be so cute?” you grinned, pinching his cheeks the first time aegyo slipped out in front of you. 

No matter which version of himself he showed you, you loved him. Each part, no matter how different and against expectations, you cared for. And even with all the work he put into himself, there was still the part of him that tried to change in his romantic and sexual relationships. Trying to live up to what he thought his partners wanted, trying to adapt himself to them. 

But so effortlessly, you dismantled the expectations he put upon himself. All the times you called him sexy and adorable in the same breath, made him believe that he could be both at the same time– that he could be manly and intimidating, sweet and loving, sexy and cute all at once, and it was all still genuinely him, all worthy of love.

Maybe it’s impossible to shove insecurity completely aside; it’s likely that it’ll always linger. Even when it’s small, and tucked away, and very nearly forgotten, it’ll be there, waiting. And maybe that’s okay, because when you have someone who loves you as you are, who reassures you and listens to you and comforts you, it’ll start to fade back out as naturally as it came in.

“I don’t know why,” he answers honestly, his bottom lip starting to quiver. His best guess is that his fear of losing someone he loves so much expounded upon his underlying insecurities, made them flare to the point that he felt like he could drown in them. 

“I just know that I love you. And I need you, and not like- not like that, I just- ..I never want to be without you,” he continues, refusing to get choked up by his emotions and let it stop him from saying what he needs to. “And I promise- I’ll tell you, anytime I’m unsure of myself, I’ll tell you.” 

You step closer to him, reach up and cup his face in your hands, rub the tears that threaten to fall from the corners of his eyes with your thumbs. His heart skips a beat when you smile sweetly at him, when you lean towards him to press a soft kiss to his lips, to tell him you love him. “You said I was perfect,” you say as you kiss him again, and then again, “but so are you. You’re the loveliest person I’ve ever known.”

You press more kisses over his face, complimenting each feature as you go. His deep, dark eyes that can be so piercing or so soft depending on the situation. His full cheeks, so cute and endearing when they’re pink from a blush, but so handsome and complimentary to his face. His downturned smirk when something amuses him that can easily turn into a fully bright upturned smile when he’s happy, and makes his nose scrunch adorably. 

“Honey,” he breathes in a soft whine, unsure of what to do with all the excess affection. You guide him back to his bed, crawling atop him when he falls back against it, continuing your trail of kisses down his neck. “You deserve this,” you tell him, smiling against his skin when you feel him squirm beneath you, “deserve it all, and more.”

Changbin brings one of his hands to the back of your neck when you pull back to look at him, bringing you back down to him so he can kiss you. He doesn’t want to hold back anymore, to try and hide how badly he needs you. He kisses you like a man starved, hungry and desperate. His desire is carnal, every inch of him aching for your attention. 

Your hands sweep over his torso, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging at it. He gets the hint, and separates from you so you can take it off him. He watches you remove yours too, heart thumping in his chest as you reach behind you to unhook your bra. He tries to lean up to kiss you again when you’re finished, but you push him back down.

He whines at first, but quickly swallows it down when you smile at him in that pretty way that makes his stomach flare with butterflies, his cock twitching as it hardens beneath you. Your hands travel his body, compliments about each and every inch of him freely falling from your lips. His arms, thick and warm and comforting. His chest, so strong and beautifully sculpted. His stomach, soft and cute, as perfect as the rest of him. 

You kiss him too– everywhere your fingers touch, your lips follow. Soft, tender, overwhelming– his heart is beating so fast and hard, all your words, touches, and kisses make his blood feel like molten lava, every inch of him unbearably hot. It chokes him up too, how sweet you’re being to him; you’ve doted on him plenty of times, but never like this.

You take one of his hands in yours next, bring it up to your lips to press achingly soft kisses to it. The palm first, and then his wrist, before you turn it over to kiss his knuckles. You kiss the tip of each of his fingers, and his breath hitches as he watches you, goosebumps erupting all over him when you gently put it down and pick up his other hand to repeat the actions. 

You treat him with so much reverence, shower him with more love than he knows what to do with. He’s trembling with emotion, aching with desire, overwhelmed by how much he loves you, how beautiful you look. He’s going to cry– seriously, he doesn’t know how much more he can take before tears start spilling out of him. 

“Honey, please-” Changbin whines, and to his relief, you pause to look at him. “Please, I- let me make you feel good, please? I want to, I- I want to show you how much I love you too,” he begs. You intended to take care of him, to shower him in affection until you inevitably made him cum, but you meant it when you said you can never deny him his desire to be sweet to you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” you say, and you watch as he chews on his bottom lip, face heating up further as he considers what to say. He knows what he wants, he’s thought about it so many times– it’s just the admitting and asking for it part that makes him a little shy. Still, you treat him so well, and you always indulge him, so.. The only thing to do is just go for it. 

“I want.. Want you to sit on my face. Please? Please, please sit on my face,” he begs, and God, that has to be the sexiest thing he’s ever begged for. It makes your stomach flip, and if your legs weren’t straddling him, you definitely would’ve clenched them together. Lifting yourself off him, you make quick work of the remainder of your clothes. 

Changbin scoots down the bed, so your legs will have more room when you return to him, chucking his glasses away, not nearly enough care in him for where they land. He looks at you, with a devastatingly sweet and bashful smile, his arms reaching out to help you when you start to settle above him. Your knees on either side of his head, he wraps his arms around your thighs. 

The latter half of his face is obscured by your body hovering over him, but looking down, you can see his eyes, sparkling with eager excitement as he keeps your gaze. You lower yourself just a little, nervous to sit your entire weight on his face and suffocate him, but Changbin doesn’t want you to hover, he wants you to sit. 

So using the arms he has wrapped around you, he pulls you fully down to him. You gasp– partly because of the surprise, and partly from the feeling of his tongue meeting your pussy. He focuses on your hole first, lapping up all the slick that drips out of you before he drags his tongue up to your clit, licking in a long, fat stripe.

He wraps his lips around it, sucking and flicking it with his tongue until you're writhing above him before he alternates back to licking you up, bottom to top, drinking all you offer. You bury your fingers in his curly hair, and he moans when you tug on it. He squeezes your trembling thighs, letting out happy hums whenever you moan for him.

He sticks out his tongue and lays it flat for you when you start to roll your hips, letting you grind against his face and use him however you see fit to. You shiver when your clit bumps against his nose, your breaths becoming harsher as you drive yourself closer to release on his tongue.

“Oh bunny, you’re so good to me, so good, ‘m gonna cum for you,” you cry, voice whinier than you would’ve otherwise liked it to be, but the way Changbin whines eagerly in response tells you how much he loves it. A few more rolls of your hips, and you’re cumming, your thighs squeezing around his head as you keep a tight grip on his hair to keep yourself steady. 

Changbin enthusiastically laps up your release, continuing until you're squirming and whining from the sensitivity. He loosens his hold on your thighs when you do, letting you lift your leg over his head and fall to the side of the bed a little ways away from him. Both of you are breathless, but Changbin is the first to recover, and when he does he sits up and crawls over to where you landed.

He grabs your face, gently, of course, and pulls you into a kiss. His face is slick with your essence, and you can taste yourself all over his lips and tongue. “You looked so pretty,” he tells you softly between kisses, “You’re so gorgeous when you cum for me.” He carefully spreads your legs and slots himself between them, sliding his tongue around yours as he does. 

“Want to give you my cock now,” he breaths, pulling away just enough to look at you with those eager, pleading eyes that make you weak. “Want to keep making you feel good, want to- want to watch your eyes roll back when I make you cum again.” 

“Sweet boy,” you coo, spreading your legs wider for him, offering yourself to him, “do it, baby. Give it to me.”

He kicks off the remainder of his clothes in record time, taking his cock in his hand and spreading the dribbling pre-cum over his length until it’s completely wet. You’re more than ready for him, but he’s as careful with you as always, pushing each inch inside slowly. 

You reach out to him and pull him down to you, kissing him hard and sweet, drinking in the whimper he lets out when he’s fully inside you. His entire body is trembling, still worked up from all the attention you gave him and sensitive from fucking you just last night. There’s a part of him that still feels vulnerable too, but he’s safe with you, and he knows you always will be. 

He loves you well, but you love him better; and he’ll spend every moment he has showing how much he appreciates you. He doesn’t need to prove his worth, doesn’t need to do anything apart from be himself– the love you’ve given him has shown him that. You understand him, better than anyone ever has. 

You love him, you always have, long before who he is now, and will continue to long into the future. All he has to do to repay all you’ve given him is love you. Love you honestly, openly, freely– because he’s enough as he is.

When he starts to move his hips, you both moan, Changbin just the slightest bit louder than you. He tucks his arms under your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, chests touching as he steadily builds a faster pace. He’s squeezing you in his arms, whining in your ear about how good you feel around him.

He’s so high-strung and sensitive that he doesn’t think he’ll last long, but oh, is he going to try. But shit, he’s still so emotional too– he thought he would’ve recovered by now, but it keeps hitting him in waves. And when you kiss him, it makes him dizzy– not just with lust and desire, but with passion, adoration.

The way he looks down at you when he pulls away takes your breath away, so sentimental and loving. You take his face into one of your hands again, and it takes everything in him to not get choked up again. Your love is his greatest comfort, but it also makes him ache– because no one has ever loved him as sincerely as you do. 

“Do you need to stop?” you ask him tenderly, once again wiping the tears from his eyes. His heart feels like it’s going to burst from all the emotion, but he quickly shakes his head, offering you a sincere smile, “N-No, no, I’m fine! I just- I really love you,” he admits, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips to show you he means it.

“And besides, I might go actually insane if I don’t fuck you, cause seriously, how are you so fucking sexy?” he follows up. “Oh, shut up,” you giggle, playfully slapping his arm. “This is supposed to be about you, you know? My sweet bunny and how perfect he is- maybe I need to remind you?” 

Changbin curiously tilts his head at your words as you lock your legs around him and using what strength you have, and with the help of gravity and momentum, you force him to roll to his side, and then to his back. You smile down at him, your roles easily flipped, while he stares up at you, mystified and easily the most turned on he’s ever been. 

“Oh-” is all he manages to utter, his cock throbbing furiously inside you. He could’ve easily fought it– he’s physically much stronger than you, after all. But he just loves when you force him into the positions you want, loves to be malleable and pliant for you. 

You plant your hands firmly on his chest, bouncing on his cock fast, the sound of your thighs slapping together just barely louder than Changbin’s obscenely loud whimpers. “Oh God, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines desperately, too wound up and sensitive to resist it, his hands clutching at the bedsheets so hard his knuckles have turned white, “please, please, please, can I, please? Please, let me cum.” 

“I love you so much, Binnie, want you to cum for me,” you tell him, bringing one of your hands to your clit so you can cum with him, the way he always loves to. It causes you to squeeze tighter, and he gasps, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he trembles. “Give it to me, baby, be a good boy and cum for me.”

He does just as you ask, a messy string of “I love you”s falling from his lips until he’s too far gone to keep talking, tears streaming down the sides of his face as his eyes roll to the back of his head, and then close. His noises are high-pitched and pornographic, his entire body shaking with the intensity of his cum spilling inside you.

His vision is blurry when he starts to blink open his eyes, but soon enough you come back into focus above him, looking down at him affectionately. He smiles at you, a goofy, sweet one that makes you giggle. He wraps his arms around you and drags you down to him, pressing kisses to your lips over and over again. 

Changbin tells you everything he’s wanted to this entire time as he does; how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, how he can’t imagine his life without you in it. He blushes when you do the same, while once again making him promise he’ll tell you if doubt ever starts to creep up on him. 

The journey to loving yourself isn’t easy; it’s a long winding road, uneven and easy to stumble on. But when he falls, you’ll be there to catch him. You’ll remind him how loved he is, the value he has simply in being, how he brightens every day you share just by existing. 

You’ll always be here, growing older with him, supporting him as he continues to grow and change, each experience turning him into a newer version of himself. And in every change, in every season of his life, you’ll continue to love him. Always.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

[talesofesther]

a touch of emotion

Connor x Reader

Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.

A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3

Masterlist

"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.

"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."

A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.

He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.

Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.

"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."

Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.

And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.

Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.

You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?

"You okay?"

Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.

You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.

"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.

"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.

You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."

There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.

"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.

"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.

Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.

Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.

How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?

Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.

Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.

"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.

Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.

"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."

It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.

"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"

"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.

When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.

Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.

Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.

You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.

Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.

"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."

Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.

As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[moodymisty]

Instead of Lorgar getting cucked by Erebus (shudders) what about Argel Tal? He’s a Word Bearer space marine and I’ve heard good things about him. Also, this way we can have had Lorgar get cucked by his father (Emepror), his brother (Horus), and his son (Argel Tal)

Author’s note: I’m sorry I couldn’t not do it XD I'm normally really not a cheating/NTR type of person, but i had this idea and decided to just go for it.

Warnings: very vaguely lewd, Cheating, You are Lorgar’s beloved but he’s been gone for almost two years so Argel’s gonna tap that

Lorgar was often gone for so long.

For months, months apon months, It wasn't uncommon for life ending droughts and city destroying floods to happen in his absence. Entire building erected or torn down.

It's approaching a year and a half now since he left, and if it weren't for the murals, tapestries and art, you would've sworn you had begun to forget the details of his face.

You've stopped sleeping in his room since. You couldn't do it anymore. Something about it just felt so empty and cold.

He’s due to be gone for months longer still, as his crusade has drifted him so far from home. The letters and vox calls have stopped since, it's too far for them to reach Colchis.

It’s been so lonely. The emotional loneliness, the lack of someone to talk to…

The physical loneliness; The want for a hug, and a warm bed.

Argel Tal has at least been saying your need for the first type, talking with you as you look over the balcony. You’re leaning against it, dress gently flowing in the wind as the cool night air hits your skin, while Argel grasps it with a single, armored hand. You're surprised he's made such good company, normally the astartes are so stoic that it's hard to speak to them for more than a bit at a time.

Then again, you also think he's doing it because Lorgar ordered him to. To keep an eye on you. You only have an inkling, but even if he was, at least he seems to be enjoying it a bit none the less. You are as well.

The conversation has tapered off however, and you watch lights in the far distance flicker while the stars shine in the sky. It's peaceful. Argel breaks the silence with his voice- deep and rumbling in that odd astartes way.

"...Do you miss him, my Lady?"

He takes off his helmet, looking down at you. You hear the soft clink as he hangs it on his belt. It takes a moment for you to gather the words.

"I do, more than anything, but..."

You hesitate. Argel Tal is his son, one of his prized captains. His look is expectant, and for some reason you perhaps naively think he won't misconstrue your words.

"He's been gone for so long that I almost miss him less. Like when someone dies and you miss them with all your heart, but the wound slowly fades."

Argel looks down at you, jaw shifting as he thinks.

“Perhaps the others might not but, I understand.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Argel. You are a good man.”

Argel smiles, his tan skin scarred across his cheeks but still warm. You can't help but smile back at him as a cold breeze makes you shiver.

“I am honored you think that.”

Argel has so much humility compared to the other Word Bearers you’ve met, it’s refreshing. It also helps that he isn't as dedicated to Lorgar's titles for you; And had listened to your request when you told him to not use them.

You've been always looking forward to seeing him in these moments. It's the most joy you get in weeks long stretches at a time.

“I,” You don’t know why you hesitate, for a moment. “I should head to bed. Thank you for your time again, Argel. I hope you know how much I appreciate you being here.”

The astartes nods, pulling away from the railing as you do the same.

"You make good company as well. Astartes like I don't often get to speak with normal humans beyond giving orders." You give him another smile, before wishing him good night. He nods and leaves you, after you politely declined his offer to bring you to your quarters.

When you had, he seemed like he had something a bit more to say, but instead closed his mouth and walked away.

You decided about halfway that you would return to Lorgar's personal quarters instead; Perhaps to read a few of his books before trying to sleep. It probably wouldn't help, but you still wanted to try anyways. It was a long walk to get across the palace to where his quarters were, and by the time you got there you felt like sitting down.

You close the massive doors behind you, looking around. The bed is made from the last time you were in here, not a thing out of place. All the papers on his desk are scattered just the same, things half written or abandoned; Almost as if frozen in time.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps right outside causes you to turn back towards the door with a look of surprise, which only grows widen when the door is shoved open to reveal Argel. He’s removed his armor in the short time since he left, walking towards you in only his loose robes.

You don’t have time to say anything; Argel’s hands grab your face with both hands around your jaw- ignoring your shock gasp and instinctive fear has massive hands reached towards your neck - and leans downward to smash his lips against yours. He is rough and unforgiving, but even in his forcefulness you can feel something gentle there.

“You cannot tell Lorgar about these sins I have already committed,”

He says, lips brushing over yours. You could say the same as well. You are his beloved, but not yet wife.

But you are also so, unbelievably lonely.

“I won’t, I won’t ever-“

His lips are back on yours, and you attempt to pull him towards the bed. Any hope in realizing you shouldn’t do this is gone, you lost it as his hands gripped the thin fabric of your nightdress. You lost it in the desire for some sort of company, to fill the places in your heart Lorgar's constant abandonments leave ripped open.

Your back hits the bed and Argel follows.

“Tell me what you want, before I lose myself to my own selfishness.”

His body is so heavy, but he’s unfraid to push his weight against you. He takes the breath from your lungs, his hand tight on your waist.

“Just… Just touch me.”

[squishmyster]

What a Difference a Day Makes

Cooper Didn't know what to do when he saw you in pristine conditions after he had spent over two hundred years thinking about how you died. One thing he does know is that he's never letting yo go again. Post war! Cooper Howard/ Ghoul x Reader ~Cw~ Angst, Possessive Ghoul, mentions of death! and grieving, OOC! Ghoul????, pinV Sex, light nipple play?, Ghoul sex MASTERLIST

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The Ghoul was wandering around the wasteland cowboy hat low over his eyes. He had been walking for more than two hours and decided it was time to find a place to camp for the night. After searching for a little he managed to find a little broken-down house with half of its roof missing and multiple little holes in nicks in the walls of the home. He unholstered his shotgun, made his way inside, and started clearing out the space for Rad Roaches or Mole Rats. Not seeing or hearing anything other than a light snore coming from a small closet in the back of the home.   He made his way towards it gun up and pointed forward, clocking the gun he slowly moved to open the door to the closet, and in one quick motion, he swung the door open and his instincts told him to shoot first and ask questions later which is what he was going to do. His eyes landed on your face and he had felt the air get knocked out of him. lowering the gun all he could do was stare at you. going to sit in a chair on the other side of the room he couldn't help the rush of emotions he felt. Feelings he had pushed deep inside himself at least a hundred years back. The grief of losing you, the pain he felt, the anger, and sadly enough jealousy that you got to peacefully die compared to his ghoulish hell, and then the memories of you too came rushing back into his head but one in particular stuck out the most. 

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Both of you were in Cooper's apartment and Cooper was above you his hazel eyes looking over your figure under him with a look full of love and adoration. his hand cupping your cheek and his handsome smile out on display for only you to see. In that moment he felt like nothing in the world was wrong, like he could do anything or do nothing at all and it would be perfectly okay with him. If time had stopped in that moment he could have cherished every moment of it. The scent of you, the way your hair framed your face, the matching look of love in your eyes, the softness of your skin under his palm, the way the morning sun painted you to be the most marvelous thing he'd seen in years and what he would do to be back there in that moment is anything under the blistering hot California sun. 

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You wake up to the sun on your face shielding your eyes as you get up, you hear someone clear their throat, letting out a shocked sound you whip around and face the stranger. Once your eyes adjust to the light you notice the shotgun idling in his hand. Not knowing what to do you put your hands up not wanting to get shot because that would fuckin suck and it's not what you need or want right now.  Tilting the brim of his cowboy hat just above his eyes he let his lips pull into a sly smirk to cover the pang of hurt he felt in his chest at the shocked and very much worried expression. Tips his head to the side, looks you in the eye, and lets his left hand rest on his thigh while his right is holding his gun in case anything was to pop off. " What don't tell me you don't remember my darling... thought I was more special than that considering I'm your fiancé".  Hearing his words you get a good look at him you see the bright hazel eyes you longed to stare into as you've through the wasteland, hell much longer than that since the moment you woke up in that cryo-chamber and called out his name crying almost begging him to come back to you and when he didn't you felt broken and torn to pieces. Now it feels hard to even mutter his name, voice breaking and tears threatening to fall at the realization he'd been alive all this time. " C-cooper? "  breath hitching as you struggle to get out the words any words shielding your face with your hands you start sobbing the overwhelming emotions hitting you like a freight train. Seeing how distraught you were Cooper couldn't help but let the gun drop to the floor and make his way over to you. Feelings and emotions more over forgotten started making their way up his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. One hand was placed on the top of your head and the other was rubbing soothing circles into your back. " Now darling why are you crying you should be celebrating". His voice was low with false enthusiasm he was trying to lighten the mood and he knew it was working when he heard the little laugh you let out.

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After a few more minutes of sniffling in his arms, copper had dragged you over to the chair and had you sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck his groin dangerously close to your ass. He had one hand placed on your ass while the other ghosted over the curve of your spine. feeling his hands on you sent shivers down your spine. Not only did you want him, after so long you needed him. The feel of his hands on your skin, his lips all over your body, the feeling of him deep inside you, but most of all you just wanted him even if he wasn't the Cooper you remembered even if you didn't exactly know what he was. Looking into his eyes you see the man that's been in your heart forever. " I've missed you so much coop- I thought you were dead".  and before you could get another word in he was crashing his lips onto yours pulling you into a staggering kiss that had you melting into him. " I missed you too Darlin, much more than I thought was possible" Feeling his teeth lightly nip at your bottom lip you open your mouth and let his tongue slide into your mouth. The kiss was full of desire and longing it conveyed every emotion that couldn't be put into words. the want and need you felt for each other, feeling his going hard on you start to grind your hips against his. Cooper felt a low rumbling moan in his chest and let both of his hands roam over your clothed body. His hands found their way under your shirt moving to take the ripped long-sleeved shirt off you. Feeling his gloved hands on your bare skin sent pleasant shivers through your body and you let out a small moan as you broke the kiss letting him pull the shirt up over your head. the second the loose fabric was out of his hands he was back on you, lips placing sloppy kisses all over your neck, hand fully exploring your body like it was the first time he'd seen it. His kisses started trailing down your neck to the apex of your chest, hands coming up to cup and knead both breasts. Deciding it would be too much work to take your bra off he pulls it down almost ripping the fabric off your body. Tongue leaving hot, wet kisses down your chest before taking one nipple into his mouth letting his tongue swirl over the hardened bud savoring the taste of you and committing it to memory.  You let out a small moan feeling his mouth on you, hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life feeling overwhelmed at all sensations running through you. hearing your moans Cooper can't help but let a small smirk grace his lips and let his teeth graze over your nipple before moving to the other. The only sounds to be heard are your soft moans and the sounds of Cooper devouring you. One of his hands trails down and deftly unhooks the button on your jeans before letting his hand slip into your panties. His fingers find your clit and he lazily strokes the soft bud before picking up the past. Sliding his finger lower through your soaking wet folds, slipping two finger into your sopping wet cunt was all it took for you to let out a loud breathy moan. Cooper quickly ate all the moans you let you with a pleasantly mind-bending kiss. All while his other hand is alternating between pinching and squeezing both breasts. He's praising you for being so wet and ready for him, telling you about how much he's missed you, how you're still the prettiest thing he's seen out here in this god-forsaken wasteland, how badly he wants to fuck you and remind you who you belong too, and how he was never letting you go now that he had you back.

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Cooper had you bent over the chair knees on the seat and hands gripping onto the top of the chair for dear life as he fuck you into next week, his hands gripping at your sides pulling you into him with every harsh thrust of his hips. He had brought his foot up and placed it by you, the angle causing you to moan out at the new position that caused him to brush against your g-spot with every thrust. Cooper couldn't help the low moan that left his lips feeling your tight wet walls clench around his hard cock. " Fuck darlin... just like that-... swear I'll never get tired of this sweet pussy...fuckin perfect" the words coming out as strangled moans and groans. His words made you feel all mushy inside and you start to feel that special heat deep within your belly. Moans mixed with fucks and pleads for him to fuck you harder fill the space for any words you have. Using what strength you do have you use it to try and match the pace of his thrust with some of your own. The sound of skin meeting skin, moaning, heavy breathing, and wet noises fill the space around you both. "Gonna be a good girl n cum for me sweetheart... hmm?". Nodding your head you beg him to let you cum wanting the sweet release only he can give you so bad. " Yes, Cooper!... please- Mmm faster please". Giving you a hefty smack on the ass Cooper begins picking up the pace of his thrust. Chocked moans, stringed along thanks, and curses leave your lips. One hand leaves your hip to grip and trace along your curves and his low, rumbling moans and expletives could be heard even if they were much more reserved than your own. The hand grasping at your curves moves towards the front of your body. Trailing its way down towards the clef of your cunt, once his fingers reach your clit he's rubbing vigorous circles along it. His other hand moves to pull to his chest, his mouth starts its attack on your neck, and the hand that bought you both closer was tweaking with your nipples and kneading both breasts." Go ahead Darlin cum on my cock... take what's rightfully yours ". His thrust never faltered if anything they increased, the sound of skin slapping was defining, and there was nothing you could do but let your orgasm wash over you with an earth-shattering wave. A throaty moan flows out of your mouth, your body is shaking from the orgasm, walls pulsing around his throbbing cock, but also the overstimulation from Cooper's thrust is sending you farther over the edge. He slowed down his thrust but his hips were still moving firmly, his cock brushing against your g-spot with every thrust and he makes sure he was pulling out slowly before slamming back into you holding his orgasm hostage. After a few more languid thrusts he lets out a strangled moan spilling his radiated seed into your gummy walls " Ohhhh- fuck sweetheart look at that pretty fuckin pussy milk my cock". Feeling him cum inside you a soft moan leaves your lips and your body gives out under you as you lay there fucked out of your mind and wholly pleased with the way things turned out. Pulling out Cooper pulls you up wrapping his arms around you before sitting in the seat and pulling you into his embrace. Curling up into his lap you leave a kiss on his cheek before laying your head on his shoulder. After a while of sitting in silence, he notices a far-off look in your eyes "You doin' alright there Darlin"? his voice was the most quiet and gentle thing you've heard since you started wandering the wasteland. " I'm doing great Coop, just thinking about what a difference a day makes... just yesterday I was all alone not knowing if would be my last but here we are... together". He couldn't the way his lips lifted into a smile, his fingers tracing along your jaw. " Yeah.. me too but now we got each other Darlin' and I'm never letting go of you again" Looking up into his eyes filled with love and devotion you give him a warm smile, voice giving away every emotion that swelled in your chest threatening to burst out " I'm counting on it, Cooper ".

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HEYYYYY HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY NOW I WOULD LIKE TO SAY THIS WAS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT SMUT AND I WAS LOWKEY STRUGGLING BUT I WASN'T AS HARD IAS I THOUGHT.... let me know what you guys think.. kk ima go now have a good day hotties

DON'T STEAL MY WORK IF YOU REPOST TAG ME!!! thanks.

Thanks for reading from Squish<3

[deanscutiepiesam]

Hello! I'm still relatively new to the fandom, so I'd gone my entire spn existence not seeing this until now, and I have to share because I'm actually going insane and I need smart people to rant to, so apologies if you've already seen this. D*stiel warning, read at your own risk:

Credit to this [post] on Twitter for the screenshots ☆

There aren't even words, like I'm literally losing my mind. Like these can't be real people. Anyways, let's dive in, guys...

You took Dean's dying speech to Sam, where he's directly vulnerable and honest about his love for his baby boy and diluted it to the fucking gas n sip scene?? Like this is insane I can't even begin to understand the thought process (probs because there isn't one), but omg?? That's so unserious and it's almost funny, but let's move on to the replies because it's way worse.

1. People torn up about the barn is so crazy to me. Buddy, it's not that deep. It's not foreshadowing. They literally just happened to happen in the same type of building. It's so crazy for a character to make their first appearance in a barn, and now every barn must be about him. Weak. Do better.

2. Now this one. This one actually drives me crazy. The scene made you uncomfortable because you think asking him to stay is a "Dean and Cas focal point??" Are you serious?? First of all, Dean has serious abandonment issues, so of course, he wants people to stay in his life, but secondly, Sam has been the main focus of that since the first season. Ever since he went to Stanford. Like did you watch with a fucking blindfold?? Half of the show is just Dean making a crazy decision to keep Sam by his side and the consequences of that. How are you this dumb??

And if I were a gambling man, I'd bet that this person started spn at s4. Like the pieces have fallen into place; it's the only explanation. They're so delusional because they missed the core foundation of the show in s1-3. Their world began when Cas walked on screen so they don't even get the show's thesis, and it's so annoying. It's about Sam and Dean. Get over it. "Love story of two brothers." - Jensen Ackles.

3. "Sam/Dean wasn't the relationship that was crying out for emotional payoff." Bestie I'm in your fucking walls. This has literally been building between Sam n Dean for 15 YEARS. Dean was dying and needed to get out how he felt since the beginning. It was a confession, alright, but you can't handle that it was to his brother, and I feel sorry for you. I get you don't care about the brothers' relationship because of your D*stiel compulsion, but get it together. It's embarrassing.

Also, Jensen literally said he went off script for emotional scenes (including the Sam/Dean barn confession) because it felt right [X]. J2 knows Sam and Dean better than me, you, or anyone else. Even the writers (to the point where they were given the script and told to make it theirs). It's so wild that you can ignore that.

4. "Head touch." I'm not even gonna waste time typing about this. Just look at [this] post. Says more than I ever could.

Anyways. Sorry about that, guys. I'm actually so chill and friendly, I swear :33 I just needed to rant to my homies with media literacy because it's literally dead and I was going insane :)

Thanks for reading, and always remember...

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hi~ I'm back with more silly ideas~

So, when you have Krobus as your roommate, he mentions that sometimes he just wedges himself into a corner, or some other tight spot and just sits there. So, when the Farmer makes peace with the shadow people, what if they just... join in on this habit sometimes? Like, there's a team of adventurers doing their patrols in the mines, and they just shine a light into a massive crack in the wall and see the Farmer and half a dozen shadow people glaring at them bc they interrupted their "wedged in a corner" time.

How would the adventurers (Marlon, Isaac, Alesia, maybe Lance and Jolyne) react to this?

Heya again :3

So, about your ask...

_________________________________________

Marlon:

Prepared to attack the shadow people and save Farmer.

But he stopped when he realized that none of the shadow people were going to fight. Nor were they going to harm Farmer.

"Hey Marlon. We're a little busy here. And... Yeah, I made peace with them, so no hitting them, okay?"

*deep inhale and exhale*

"Kid, we need to talk..."

Scolds a bit later for not speaking up for peace between the two civilizations.

Not at all surprised by the shadow people's 'little tradition'. "I was already used to that when I first met Krobus."

Jolyne:

"Pardon, won't bother you." With a nonchalant face walked out of the Mines.

Totally calm about this strange situation.

Jolyne had seen a lot of shit, so there was nothing that could surprise her anymore.

But later she would be torn with curiosity and ask Farmer what it was.

"A peace with shadow people? I see you've already accomplished feats everywhere! And what's the fun of sitting in the corner all day?"

Isaac:

Pure WTF face. "What?!"

Wants to pull out his sword and get ready to fight, but not only are the Farmer and the shadow people not moving, they're also looking at Isaac like a.... idiot?

"Isaac, put your sword away. Why are you acting like a savage? Can't you see we're busy?" The shadow people nodded in agreement.

Isaac is confused, angry, and even insulted.

Walked out of the Mines to spout all his complaints to Marlon.

"Fucking peacemaker! Damn that farm freak and their monster friends!

Alesia:

Alesia's reactions are fast, and she already drew her bowstring towards the dark corner.

"Uh... Alesia, be a dear and put your weapon away please. It's making us nervous."

The girl was speechless."Farmer?!"

They had to give her a long explanation for both peace, the little tradition of 'sitting in the corner', and everything else.

Despite her logical outrage that Farmer hadn't told anyone about the peace with the shadow people, Alesia finds this tradition cute.

"Yoba have mercy, I hope you don't have such secrets anymore!"

Lance:

Mixed emotions. But in the end, curiosity overpowered everything.

"My friend, if you don't mind, please explain what's going on."

He listened to Farmer's story about the peace and the 'hangout' in the corner with their new friends.

"So shadow people do that all the time? Interesting..." Lance will definitely note this in his memoirs.

Will even ask the Farmer and the shadow people politely for permission to join them.

The Farmer is in favor. The shadow people are okay with it now too, because peace.

"It's amazing how much our peoples can learn about each other."

[whatsmyname-uma]

Castlecoming—The Not So Wonderful Transformation of Bridget Hearts:

At The Tremaine Manor:

Ella is on her knees scrubbing dirty laundry against a rusted washboard, disappointed that she was unable to attend Castlecoming with Bridget like they've planned.

Rambunctious clicks of heels stabbed the porcelain floor as Anastasia, Drizella and Lady Tremaine approached the opening, on their way to the dance.

"Have fun." Ella said spitefully, trying her absolute hardest to contain her emotions.

"We will." The evil stepsisters said in Unison before giggling and following their mother out the door.

Making sure that they were no longer around, Ella allows a few tears to hit the bucket of warm water filled with soiled garments that weren't even her's.

She continued to silently sob as she scrubbed until her fingers became numb, that's when the sound of a window shattering from behind made her spring onto her bare feet.

Ella shrieks before turning around, Fay standing in the window sill, just as surprised as she was.

"Fay? What are you doing here? And why would you break my stepmother's window?" Ella scolded her classmate, searching around for a broom.

Fay entered her home, "Oh I'm sorry, I tried to do a teleportation spell, but...." She shrugged.

Ella rolled her eyes, "You do know the dance starts in half an hour, why are you lurking around my house when my stepmom isn't here?"

"It's Bridget, she's worried that you won't be able to make it to the dance." Fay said.

"Well, you can tell her that I can't, I'm grounded and I'm stuck on laundry duty tonight, sorry." Ella said, feelings of disappointment and frustration pained her throat.

"B—but she's already at the dance, she's waiting on you—."

Ella cuts her off, "Look Fay, I already told you what my situation is. Even if —ouch." Ella winces in pain, realizing she has accidentally stepped on a broken window shard.

"Oh my!" Fay exclaimed.

"Look what you did! You shouldn't have come here." Ella shouted in pain.

"Ella please, let me help." Fay sat her down, frantically thinking of a solution.

"Trust me Fay, I think you've helped enough tonight, you can leave now."

Fay positioned her wand on the sole of Ella's wounded foot while whispering her signature incantation before a sparkly, golden light flew from it's tip, repairing the injury completely.

Ella is astonished as well as at loss of words, feeling for the glass in her foot.

"Just yesterday you were chasing down a book because of a failed spell, and now you're a healer....?"

Fay giggles, "I'm just as shocked as you! I had no idea I could do that, I guess I just have to stop trying so hard." She smiles.

Ella sighed, broom and dust pan in hand, "Anyway, I'm sorry I can't go to Castlecoming, all I have are torn, dirty clothes and a floor full of broken glass and nothing to wear."

"I may be able to help with that." Fay cheeses while grasping her wand.

Meanwhile at Castlecoming:

Bridget's ears are filled with the blaring sound of dance music as she sits alone, her head down with her hands in her lap.

Everyone around her dancing and having fun while she mopes, praying that Ella would turn up soon.

"What's the matter princess?" Someone says from behind.

Bridget whips her head to see Uliana and her posse appear out of thin air.

"You're sad because no one wants to dance with a loser like you?" Uliana cackles.

"Actually, my date is on her way, she should be here any minute." Bridget smirks.

"Your date?? You mean the peasant girl? Please, She's probably somewhere making out with that hot Charming kid."

"Yeah, he is pretty hot." Morgie chimes in.

"Quiet." Uliana says.

Bridget stands up, "No she's not, she's probably looking for me now so maybe I should go find her, toodles."

As Bridget turns her back to leave, Uliana gives an evil grin, "Yeah you go find her alright, maybe even help yourself to a little.... treat." She says knowing that her perfect revenge will be fulfilled.

"Wow Fay, I never knew you owned a motorcycle." Ella says as she hops off the back of the girl's pumpkin themed vehicle.

"Oh no this is not mine, I borrowed it without asking."

"That's called stealing...."

"Well, it was for a good cause?" Fay nervously chuckled leading Ella into the entrance of the dance.

"Hey!? Who did this to my bike?" Hades hollered, Ella and Fay immediately flee the scene.

They're stopped at the entrance by a tall handsome figure, decked out in a gold and white suit and a man bun.

"Charming!" Ella said, looking around nervously.

"Well look who decided to change her mind! What happened to Castlecoming being an outdated, elitist tradition?"

Ella began to fidget with her butterfly charm bracelet to take her mind off the butterflies in her stomach.

"Well, I was sure I was going to pass on tonight until I was dragged here by a certain somebody—." Ella turned around to see Fay swiftly scurrying away.

Charming laughed at the annoyed look on Ella's face, "Um, you look beautiful by the way, I love your dress." He says.

Her cheeks instantly turn red, "Really? This old thing? Stop it."

"No I'm serious, you wanna go get a drink or something?"

As he clasps Ella's hand she completely forgets why she came in the first place.

"Sure." She replied in delight.

Various assortments of lights filled the school's gymnasium as speakers blasted and kids rushed around from all areas, except Bridget.

She patiently waited for the DJ to call on her to perform her routine that she's been working on for weeks, The shuffle of love.

All she had was her deck of cards and the hope that Ella would show up, enthusiastic to see her performance.

To remain optimistic, Bridget walked over to the snack table to only find a single cupcake left, which was strange.

"Wow, these kids sure can eat." She said to herself, her actual accent slipping.

Before she walked back to her seat she could see Ella in the distance, absolutely gorgeous as she knew she'd be.

Before Bridget had the chance to wave and call out to her she could see the Prince, the same boy Ella has been gushing over since freshman year.

Bridget's heart sank to her toes, the only reason she was here in the first place was to hang out with her best friend, only for her to ditch her for a boy.

Even more lonely than before, Bridget took a bite out of the sugary dessert in an attempt to cheer herself up when the DJ spoke from a microphone.

"And now, by popular demand, we have a special performance from a special student that we all know and love. Bridget Hearts of Wonderland and her song Shuffle of love!" His echoey voice spread throughout the whole room.

Bridget, naive as usual, swallows the huge clump of frosting in her mouth and makes way for the stage, unaware of what was about to happen.

Before she could blink she was in front of the entire school, Uliana devilishly staring at her from the crowd which gave Bridget a strange feeling in her gut.

"Go Bridget!" Ella randomly yelled in the mix of people, Bridget gave an awkward wave to her.

The music started up as Bridget prepared to sing the first verse when a pain sprouted in her stomach.

She grabbed her diaphragm in agony but was determined to push through, she thought maybe she could shake it off when she reached the chorus.

Bridget continued singing when two green horns pierced through her forehead.

As she fell to the ground while her complexion turned to a muddy green color the crowd erupted in laughter, even Ella.

"Is this part of the performance?" Charming whispered to Ella.

"It has to be." She replied, ignorantly chuckling with the crowd.

The one laughing loudest of all was of course the young sea witch as her evil agenda was a huge success.

In an attempt to stand on her feet and regain control of her limbs, Bridget started violently vomiting a pink, foamy liquid all over the stage as she watched her friend laugh at her just like the rest.

Bridget felt as if her heart was being ripped from her chest through her throat, she then covered her mouth and ran off the stage in pure humiliation as mushrooms continued to form all over her body, she was a monster.

At this point Ella knew for sure that this was not part of the show but the work of a certain someone.

Ella angrily stomps towards Uliana to confront her, who is laughing to the point of tears with her gang.

"You mind explaining what you just did to Bridget?" Ella demanded.

Uliana was caught off gaurd and spawned her tentacles, "You mind getting out of my face, peasant girl?" She pushed Ella.

Ella was furious, she took off her glass shoe and bashed it against a nearby table and held the shard against Uliana's throat.

"What did you do to her!?" She yelled.

At this point, everyone in the crowd is staring at them, curious to see what's about to go down.

Uliana snickers for a brief moment, "Look around peasant girl, You're out of your league, you're outnumbered, I'll have my buddies torch you to where no amount of scrubbing, cleaning or medical treatments could reverse the damage." She whispered in Ella's ear.

Ella stared deep into Uliana's cruel, psychotic eyes, moved the jagged shoe from her larynx and ran to go find Bridget.

"Ella wait!" The prince called from behind.

"Not now, Charming."

By the enchanted lake is where the Princess of Hearts sat, bawling her eyes out as the bright pastel pink in her hair and appearance faded to a bloody, crimson pigment, establishing her wicked transformation.

Shaking, she finally started to feel the control of her body come back to her as the magical effects of what she just consumed wore off.

The sick, nauseating feeling still lingered in her body as she heard foot steps approaching.

"Bridget! Bridget are you ok?" Ella called out several feet in the distance behind her.

"Bridget?" She repeated, not receiving a reply.

Though the silence was deafening between the two, so much was being said.

Ella noticed Bridget's natural aura slowly withering away.

"Bridget say something, please"

"You laughed at me Ella, you laughed at me just like everyone else did." She sniffled over her words.

"B it's not like that, we all thought it was a part of your routine, I promise."

"You promise? Like the way you promised you'd come to Castlecoming with me but instead you stood me up then ditched me for some guy?"

"What? No! I wouldn't ever do that to you, just let me explain." Ella came closer to comfort her, "Bridget look at me."

Bridget turned to face her friend, Ella jumped backwards in fear at the sight of Bridget's sweet, bubbly image decaying as the final sparkle of kindness in her eyes died out.

"You know what Ella, there's nothing for you to explain, I now realize you see me as a joke, you all see me as a joke, but I won't tolerate it any longer." Bridget now spoke in a posh, English accent.

"Bridget why are you talking like that?" Ella was uneasy, timidly walking backwards as Bridget walked towards her, vigorously shuffling those god damn cards.

"You know what else Ella?" An unhinged wickedness polluted Bridget's demeanor and countinesnce.

"Ever since I got here, I so desperately wanted to be liked by you people so much so I changed my diction, made myself more friendly and took up baking as a hobby, now I'm wondering if it was all worth it."

"Bridget calm down, you're scaring me—." Ella pleaded.

"You should be scared! You all should be scared! You will all give me the respect I deserve, one way or another." Bridget's eyes pouring as she angrily fixed a card to be launched at Ella.

"Bridget wait!" Just then Charming pushed Ella from the cards direction as it landed on him, sending a magical shock throughout his lower body, destroying his left shin bone.

"Charming!" Ella desperately cried out, rushing to his side.

Bridget was still sobbing when she let out a deafening screach-like cackle, she knew she was going insane and she enjoyed the feeling with every inch of her being.

Ella glanced at what used to be her best friend, "I loved you Bridget, you were my friend, I stuck by your side when everyone treated you like garbage, how could you do this to me?" Ella cried in despair as the love of her life was trying to hang on to reality.

"Oh don't make this about you, It seems that you love him more than me, but let me tell you something, Ella."

Bridget gathered herself to walk away as she felt her own soul rotting from the inside out, she never felt more alive.

"Love and kindness is for the weak and the naive, it is better to be feared than loved." Is what she said to Ella before disappearing into the night, never speaking to each other ever again.

The Following week:

Bridget, in her new wicked attire challenges Uliana to a duel, the winner becomes leader of the Vks.

As arrogant as ever, Uliana accepts the deal and is surprisingly defeated by the fragile girl she took enjoyment in torturing just last week.

The vks accepted Bridget with open arms as their new leader, Uliana becoming Bridget's new friend/partner in crime.

Uliana, Bridget and the vks united in terrorizing Merlin academy up until graduation, when Bridget stabbed Uliana in the back by gaining Uliana's trust after all this time then ripping off her tentacles in revenge for what she did to her, for stealing her innocence and turning her into the great evil she now was.

Ella and Bridget never had the chance to reconcile with each other, their friendship went up in flames and nothing was left but a huge pile of crimson ash.

[brionysea]

i keep THINKING about this. because of the way the situation is set up, with mike being torn on if he's actually seeing el somehow or if he's just grieving and losing his mind, he's kind of half talking to himself and half talking to el here. effectively, this is possibly the closest we've ever gotten to seeing inside mike's head. since that thing's one of labyrinthine complexity and more closely guarded than a maximum security prison, you can imagine my interest

the thing with season 2 mike was his sudden personality shift due to trauma, amplified by the anniversary date of the trauma approaching (like what the doctors assumed was happening with will). in the first season mike was a total sweetheart and only snapped when (reasonably) provoked. the snappiness kind of stuck around after this, particularly in season 3, and there seems to be the assumption that it's... not because of trauma anymore? or something? that he just turned into an asshole for no reason?? but considering this is the origin of that behaviour, i don't think it should be ignored

the way he describes what happens, in this kind of self-therapy session that his radio ritual seems to have turned into, is really interesting because... he knows what he's doing. he demonstrates self awareness. he's not oblivious about it like it's easy to assume he is about all emotional concerns. when people he trusts are lying to his face, yeah, he'll come across a bit oblivious to us when we've been shown what's actually going on, but this... well, it's tangentially about el, but he's half convinced that el actually is dead. this is about mike. about what mike is feeling

self reflection is a whole different conversation from trying to understand what's going on in other people's heads, especially for someone as smart as mike. when you're intelligent but not emotionally equipped it's extremely frustrating, because you know exactly what you're doing - often in real time - but you have zero tools to stop yourself from doing it. mike lacks self control, not self awareness, because you unfortunately can't beat depression by really, really wanting to, any more than you could will your leg into not being broken anymore

exacerbate his irritability and natural impulse levels with trauma, and you've got a very snappy mike wheeler on your hands

he sounds like he regrets snapping at the party, and considering how much we know he cares about them, that's not only believable but extremely likely. last time we saw him drive most of them away like this he started spiralling until dustin snapped him out of it (which, interestingly, is also what happens in both of the on-screen radio rituals where dustin pops up again wanting to talk)

i... don't think mike sounds like he's beating himself up over it? more like he's trying to figure out his own behaviour, which is... unexpected, for his utter lack of self esteem and the show-wide belief that Everything Bad Ever is his fault. especially since his parents just said that exact thing to him, like, yesterday, about how his depression is a crime against nature or morally reprehensible or whatever they were blaming their traumatised child for that week. but he does call himself stupid one of the times he tries and it doesn't work, so maybe it's just on a delay when he thinks he might have an audience

he also gets immediately annoyed when dustin brings up max again, says something snappy, and goes right back to isolating himself. exactly like before, making it the third time in one day

(see what i mean? he can't control how he reacts to the simplest things, even when there's no way he doesn't recognise the pattern. it must drive him nuts)

grouping himself in with dustin and lucas as missing el is just... okay. there's the shippy (or distinctly non-shippy) way of looking at it, if that's your thing, but just the fact that mike is so clearly grieving on a different level and still remembers that the other party members who knew el are grieving her too is like. unbelievably selfless and situationally aware of him

he's the one who got traumatised by witnessing that loss. he's the one who thinks he's going crazy and hallucinating things from how much losing el hurt him personally. and still, despite his outward behaviour towards them, he's not so blinded by his own (extremely overwhelming) experience that he lets himself forget that the others are going through a version of this too

even when he's lashing out, to this day, a part of him is probably yelling at himself to stop. and he just sits in that self loathing, not breathing a word of it to anyone. did you guys hear that? it was the sound of my heart breaking

[hautevaux]

@ceaselxss // Con't

Tseng sighs softly, reaching out to brush a piece of Vaux's hair back behind his ear. He doesn't like that he upsets him, and he doesn't like that he doesn't have the power to change it.

"Did you know that you are the most normal part of my life? I've never had much of the opportunity to be a normal person; I am a Turk. I've been a Turk for almost half my life... The entire time I've been an adult. I can't tell you what sort of life that is, but I can tell you that I enjoy the snatches of a normal life I get to have when I'm with you."

"You've seen what I look like. That is my normal. That is my day to day. And I am a liar, I have to be, for your safety, for my job. But I'm not lying to make you feel better - I know you're more perspective than that. I don't tell you when I'm hurt because my normal and real normal don't mix well and I... I like pretending."

He lowers his head for a moment, unable to repress the true emotion in his eyes and unwilling to share it.

"I'm going to die young, Vaux. I'm going to die in some awful, violent brutal way. I am going to keep getting hurt, I'm going to suffer. This is my life. It's more than a job. I can't walk away, I can't run. I am alive right now because of luck and the kindness of others. This is what you have to endure if you want to be with me."

"I'm sorry."

He's upset and its entirely obvious by the way the tailor's eyes shimmer with the threat of tears, in how he cannot quite raise his eyes upward to meet Tseng's, even after the perfectly gentle contact offered.

He felt so immensely torn, and the more Tseng spoke the more Vaux could feel his heart tearing itself apart and how he wanted to speak; but to what end? Would aught he wanted to utter matter in the end? Vaux had known what he was getting in to when they had first shown interest in one another - Tseng had always been open about the dangers of his job, though the details were always held back; he couldn't be angry about it, not now, not after long accepting the facts.

Perhaps he ought adjust his perspective. He may have been upset given the way he often found out his love had gotten hurt, but perhaps he ought to - instead - cling to the fact that he was Tseng's normality... his taste of ordinary. There was something perfectly special about the ordinary; one that ought be treasured, especially when such seldom existed.

The more Tseng speaks, the more he feels the burning tightness in the back of his throat threatening sobs; the way his chest felt compressed, the way every breath shuddered whether inhaled or exhaled. There was no denying that he absolutely detested what he was hearing and eventually he allowed for one, perhaps two, little sobs to emerge while a torrent of tears stained his makeup-less cheeks.

Hands finally move, however, and choose to cup either side of Tseng's face so that he could raise his gaze - - just enough to press their foreheads together in a moment of quiet, restrained upset once more swallowed down into the darkest pits of his stomach.

"You don't know that---" His whispered, hushed voice is naught if not utterly broken; "So much changes every day, you can't be certain of that..." And as much Vaux was aware that it was a very real and very frightening possibility that Tseng simply... wouldn't return one day, he also knew there was the possibility he would; and it would be for that would-be possibility that he would keep on fighting through the upsets... because he would risk everything for that warm embrace when they see one another for the first time in a while, the comfort he feels when settled aside him. He'd felt no other peace in the world... and knew he wouldn't again without him.

Eventually, he relents. He drops his head to his love's shoulder and finally allows for tears to emerge more freely, but he continues to restrain the sound of his sobs. In fact, if not for the dainty tremble to hands and shoulders, one may not have been aware of his crying at all.

Arms wrap around; hands holding on to the material of a suit constructed by his own hands and yet in that moment he finds he detests it and all it stands for. A fleeting moment - - unlike his grip, which shows no loosening. The way Vaux holds Tseng in that moment is truly telling of his fear of losing him - - of how much he loves and adores him, and his hope for a future mayhap less fragile.

As much as he hated seeing Tseng hurt, as he detested the secrecy and the lies, the possibility of death around every corner - - Vaux had known this ere they'd become a couple; it was something he had signed up for. All of the pain, all of the hurt, all of the worry that consumed him night after night if he'd not heard from Tseng... all of it he had agreed to; and all of it he would continue to agree to so long as he kept returning home to the tailor safely.

"I'm not going anywhere..." He finally uttered, syllables muffled by his face buried against his love's shoulder; "It doesn't matter what happens next, what disaster decides to come about, what viciousness demands you... I'll always be here for you. I'm not giving up on the only person who I've ever sincerely loved, not for anything..."

Perhaps he would just have to start putting a basket of medical supplies in his bathroom cabinet, beneath the sink, for when Tseng needed them--- at least then Vaux would feel as if he was helping, if only indirectly.

He could only hope, in silence, that if the worst ever did come to pass... he would have a chance to say goodbye.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapters 49: What Was Meant to Be & 50: After

If this is your first time seeing one of my posts, you might assume that it's safe to read this post if you've finished the first couple of books of The Wheel of Time. This is a very foolish assumption. My reread is for the whole damn series, so don't keep going unless you like spoilers for everything!

Both of these chapters have the Wheel icon as we're closing out the story.

His memory came in flashes and patches. Old things he could remember, but the last few days seemed like bits of broken mirror, spinning through his mind, showing glimpses that were gone before he could see them clearly.

And this explains why Rand doesn't retain all of his character development going forward: he forgets it all. Dammit Rand.

“Nynaeve? Elayne? How? You were all in Falme?”

Note that these questions go unanswered. Rand presumably gets filled in offscreen in between this book and the next, but we're starting our trend of him being kept out of the loop by the others.

“They are gone,” she said. “Saying ‘no’ won’t change it.”

Min is really not demonstrating herself as a fated love interest to Rand here. She doesn't understand what he's talking about, she's frustrated he's upset he didn't get to see Egwene, and she's only bringing a little emotional support here. The best she's got is trying to buffer him and Moiraine and obviously that's not gonna work. I'm not saying these are bad choices; they barely know each other, why should they act like perfect soulmates? But it's a shocking transition after Min's certainty and Lanfear's gloating.

“I wish you weren’t here,” he told the Aes Sedai. “As far as I am concerned, you can go back to wherever you’ve been hiding and stay there.”

Yeah, Moiraine pulling a Gandalf doesn't really work with her because she's not anywhere near established enough of a figure in this world. I don't blame Rand at all for calling her out, and frankly I'm not impressed with whatever it was she was doing offscreen, which has amounted to nothing practical.

What resulted was neither Padan Fain nor Mordeth, but something far more evil, a blend of the two. Fain—let us call him that—is more dangerous than you can believe.

Indeed, he's especially dangerous because the two forces should annihilate on contact but apparently preserve themselves through his flesh, which seems like a particularly unstable arrangement.

“Your battle took place across the sky, in full view of every soul in Falme. Perhaps in other towns on Toman Head, too, if half what I hear is to be believed.”

An inexplicable miracle. I still don't think there's any real guess as to what might have caused it. I guess the Wheel was just desperate to make things work.

He remembered being called Lews Therin; not only by Ba’alzamon, but by Artur Hawkwing. “I won’t. Light, the Dragon is supposed to Break the World again, to tear everything apart. I will not be the Dragon.”

Two books in and Rand is still trying to refuse the call. But can you really blame him, considering what the Dragon stands for in popular iconography? Any man who'd want to be the Dragon Reborn would be a horrible choice.

When all seven are broken, perhaps even before, the patch men put over the hole they drilled into the prison the Creator made will be torn asunder, and the Dark One will once more be able to put his hand through that hole and touch the world.

Indeed the Dark One's touch is only going to get more extreme, especially once the fourth seal is broken. Let's keep our eyes open next book for any other signs of their weakening besides the rest of the Forsaken being freed no later than this point.

But it did not change the way he felt about Tam, and Emond’s Field was the only home he had ever known. Fain is the important thing. I have one duty left. Stopping him.

Which is why Rand will flee cross country past the Two Rivers and straight to Tear. I don't think it's a disconnect in the story though; we'll see why he becomes more focused on the latter mission later.

“Why would I not stay?” Loial said. “You are even more ta’veren than I believed, true, but you are still my friend. I hope you are still my friend.”

Loial is one hell of a friend. Plenty of people could have run off at this point and I wouldn't blame them.

“It is said,” the one-eyed man said carefully, “that when the Dragon is Reborn, he will break all oaths, shatter all ties. Nothing holds us, now. We would give our oaths to you.”

Note that Rand doesn't demand they break their oaths but rather they interpret his presence as being reason enough to supersede them.

Masema, who hated him. Masema, who looked at him as if seeing a vision of the Light.

Even now Masema is clearly too turbulent to be a good ally.

They were all watching him, all waiting. Death is lighter than a feather, duty heavier than a mountain. He made his decision.

Fake cliffhanger! You know there's really no chance of things going the one way.

—from Charal Drianaan te Calamon, The Cycle of the Dragon, Author unknown, the Fourth Age

Spoilers, geez! Though technically you could argue that perhaps this is from the last fourth age. It's not actually specific enough to be any Fourth Age for certain. Note as well further evidence of translation convention in effect: Calamon is clearly the word for "Dragon" and an obvious corruption of Telamon.

In any event, that's book two! I'm going to be taking another break; supposed to be getting a new laptop soon and think I'm going to start using it as my reading machine because I'm just getting annoyed doing it on a tablet. Until next time folks.

[lawrussosnation]

" get a grip on yourself , sensei. " part 2

Note: Daniel isn't in this part, its Miguel's and johnny's turn to have angst.

A week had passed since the tense encounter between Johnny Lawrence and Daniel LaRusso. The valley remained divided, tension simmering just below the surface. Miguel had grown increasingly restless, torn between his loyalty to Johnny and his growing admiration for the principles of Miyagi-Do.

One evening, after another exhausting training session at Miyagi-Do, Miguel found himself standing outside Johnny's apartment. He hesitated before knocking on the door, his heart pounding in his chest. The door swung open, revealing Johnny's weary expression

-

"Miguel? What are you doing here?"

-

Miguel swallowed nervously, his determination bolstering his resolve. He always hated him and sensei LaRusso continuously fighting, arguing what ever they did. It was time Miguel stood up and said something about it, Sam and Miguel planned this after the whole thing with the fight.

-

"Uh, Hey. Can we talk? I know you probably don't want to but this is . . . important. "

-

Johnny motioned for him to enter with his head , Miguel would walk in closing the door behind him and they settled into the living room. The silence hung heavy between them until Miguel broke it with shrugging his arms creating a slap when he puts it down from the air.

-

"S - Sensei , I know you don't trust Daniel. But I've been training with him, and he's - He's not like Kreese okay? . . . He genuinely wants to end this rivalry and help you become better person overall."

-

Johnny would chuckle, a small smile appeared but it was completely fake. His thoughts of Miguel leaving him from his rival haunted him all day long and now that Miguel said that he doesn't know how to feel. Miguel would wait for a response, Sighing softly and quietly knowing what his response might been since he knows johnny as well and a little more than Daniel because johnny told him A lot of stuff over the years.

-

"You're buying into his Miyagi-Do mumbo jumbo, huh? I thought you were smarter than that Diaz. Seriously, I told you ALL the stories and how I feel about him and his stupid karate. I'm surprised you even think its badass.''

-

Miguel met Johnny's gaze, his brown eyes sincere and unwavering.

- - -

"I get it, Sensei. I'm not asking you to forget the past. But holding onto that anger... it's only hurting us."

- - -

Johnny's jaw tightened, his emotions visibly battling within him. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he leaned back against the couch.

-

"You've always got a way of Seein' things, Miguel . . . But this isn't some karate match. It's my life., and you don't know half the stuff of what is going on with me and him lately. It's best if you leave."

-

Miguel's voice remained steady, his eyes shining with emotion. A tear welled up, and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. He met Johnny's gaze once more, his vulnerability laid bare.

-

"Get a grip on yourself, Sensei. You've changed, and - and ! you've changed my life. Please... consider what I'm saying.."

-

Johnny's gaze flickered back to Miguel, a complex swirl of emotions crossing his features. Miguel's unwavering belief, the sincerity in his voice, and the tear he had wiped away – they all struck a chord within Johnny, unraveling layers of stubborn resistance. Miguel stood up, his eyes locking onto Johnny's.

-

"Think about it, Johnny. For me. For us."

-

As Miguel turned and left the apartment, the room felt both emptier and fuller than before. The echoes of their conversation reverberated in Johnny's mind, stirring a mix of introspection and turmoil.

Johnny sat on the couch for a long moment, his gaze distant as he replayed their conversation in his mind. Slowly, he got up, his head still heavy with conflicting thoughts. He stepped outside, walking to the nearby store, his steps a little unsteady. He purchased a pack of Coors, his fingers tightening around the cold bottles.

Sitting on the curb, he opened a bottle and took a long swig. Memories, regrets, and hopes swirled in his mind as he stared at the darkening sky. He finished one bottle and then another, the alcohol providing a temporary escape from the storm within him.

The night air was cool, and the quiet of the moment gave Johnny a space to think. His head leaned back on the couch, his gaze fixated on the stars above. It was as if the universe held the answers he was seeking.

And then, as the echoes of Miguel's words resonated in his mind, a new determination flickered in Johnny's eyes. He crushed the empty bottles and got up, his steps steadier now. The weight of the decision he was about to make felt both daunting and liberating.

He also taught of what Miguel said about Daniel, but he tried to forget about what Daniel was talking about to Miguel and still tried to keep the hatred for him up with kreese. It was around 9pm now, 4 Hours has past after he said that, Johnny decides to run the streets under the influence breaking the law for the 100th time. He decided he would go to his apartment now and watch Rocky I. The anger he felt was clouded by the alcohol now but will soon be reflooded by the time he would wake up the next day for his training with his cobra students and Kreese the next day.

(this one was shorter because its 9pm almost 10pm TOMORROW IT WILL BE SUPER LONGER! will be on ao3 soon.)

SONG FOR THIS FIC PROMPT:

[thotsforvillainrights]

(Draft Release)

~Plans to Leave~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

The rain currently pelting the side of the apartment showed no signs of letting up anytime soon according to the weatherman on the living room TV. You sigh and direct your vision to the shadowy figure passing the large window and coming up the stone steps of your building. Only seconds later did you hear the doorknob jiggle before he entered and closed the door behind him. At first it would appear he was dripping just from the rain alone, but upon closer inspection you noticed the blood mixing with the water coming down as well. When the smell of fresh rain subsided is when you noticed the smell of burning flesh. You can't help but in all your worry to also feel a sense of small annoyance creeping up beneath the surface. Still, you quickly got up from your comfortable position the couch and headed to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. He silently followed behind you, not bothering to hang his soaked, torn trench coat up by the entryway door. Instead he opted for tossing the soggy thing on the hallway floor carelessly. His expression was more less than pleased you noticed when he sat on the toilet and began taking what was left of his shirt off. You pulled the first aid kit from beneath the bathroom sink and washed your hands. You tried not to make much eye contact in the moment, not exactly knowing which emotion you'd be feeling when you locked eyes with those blue orbs.

Anger, regret, sadness, pity, annoyance, pain, disappointment, relief...The possibilities were endless but they were also unavoidable.

You began first inspecting the staples riddling his face, neck, and along his upper chest. Some were old, rusted with time while others were newer. It was a nasty memory of the night you put them in yourself. Even worse, some were now missing, leaving flesh to hang a tad lower than it should ever appear on another humans body. You grimaced and he noticed this, looking away for a second at nothing in particular. When he looked back at you, your eyes were boring into his. He hated when you did that...when you looked at him expecting an explanation for all this. Sometimes even worse than now, you'd rather have an apology or something along the lines of a promise he'd never do this again.

He couldn't give it to you.

"Y/N..."

"Don't even start with that..." You quickly popped open the pill bottle laying at the side of the box and handed him two pain pills. He swallowed them without complaint and waited to hear the rest of your rant. It was inevitable after all. "You always fucking do this. It's like you just don't even care about me nor your own self. I get what you've been through. I know it was a shit deal but killing yourself for the sake of retribution seems a little bit too much right?!" He glared at your words, scoffing and once again looking away from you. "You get what I've been through? Y/N you couldn't even begin to imagine half of the shit I've been through. You couldn't grasp it and because of that, you'll never fucking understand why I do what I do. I don't care about anything but seeing Endeavour take his last breaths even if that means I go too. I want all of them to suffer. I want all of them to see. I want-"

"I thought you said you wanted me?" He pauses and looks down at you, now teary eyed as you cleaned his wounds for maybe the 5th time these past 2 months. "Dabi...I thought you said a long time ago you wanted me right? That you couldn't tolerate many other people but that I was special. You said it while looking me dead in my eyes, and I swear you couldn't have lied to me by the way you looked at me that night. I'm tired of seeing you do this to yourself. You can't imagine falling in love with someone whose ultimate goal is to leave you in the end one way or another. How are you going to make plans with me in the future and then toss them away every chance you get? You need to make up your mind...It's me or him."

"You knew what my goals were. I made that abundantly clear at the beginning of this relationship and I won't let anyone or anything stop me from reaching that goal...not even you." He gently reached out and pushed you aside as he stood up. "Goodbye Y/N..." No eye contact between either of you in the moment. You couldn't even stand to look at him because you knew if you did then the tears would start and they wouldn't let up. So you stared at the floor and listened. You listened as he trudged down the hallway, picked up his wet coat and opened the front door. You listed when he closed it, locking it behind him before dropping his copy of the key through the mail slot and onto the wet floor. You listened to the pounding of your heart, drowning out your thoughts for a moment as well.

Maybe worst of all, you'd been listening all these months later as well. Even at the sound of the war breaking out between heroes and villains. Even at his new broadcast revealing what you already knew about Toya Todoroki.

Even at the sound of the loud explosion being covered over radio wave, the threat of evacuation shortly beforehand as a familiar villain has self destructed himself.

[sammy-a-87]

Real Family

The train finally came to a halt. Thick smoke engulfed the tiny station and Gellert stumbled onto the cobblestone. He forgot just how small everything was there. Godric’s Hallow, the home of his aunt, was so incredibly tiny, the kind of village where everyone knew each other's business and life like their own.

He made sure to not use magic to carry his bags, no matter how tempting it was- the village was shared by muggles and wizards alike if he remembered right and he wasn't yet old enough physically to use magic outside of school. The weather was torrid, a heat so unbearable he cursed under his breath for wearing all black. Where's that damn house again?!

Trudging through the empty street- no one was as stupid as him to go out in this heat- he racked his brain for any useful memory; red hair and toothy grins were all that filled his vision. Finally, as if sent by the gods themselves, Gellert noticed a young woman walking in his direction. She carried two gigantic baskets filled with what he assumed were groceries.

“Excuse me, ma'am?” He flashed a sweet smile. She stopped in her tracks and smiled in turn.

“Could you perhaps help me find Mrs. Bagshot's house?” His accent scratched his ears- he had lost it sometime in his thirties, but now it was back with full force and he hated it. Not because it reminded him of home, he was proud of German heritage, but it made him sound so out of place….

The woman eyed him curiously for a moment before speaking up, her own English accent flowing as sweetly as a melody.

“Of course, of course. Are you family of her's? Her house is the yellow one right after the graveyard, on the right. You can't miss it.”

Gellert bowed gallantly and thanked her, however, without elaborating on his relationship with Bagshot- news traveled here too fast and he didn't like that. They parted ways and after a hellish half an hour of walking in the blazing sun- how the fuck is this place so small yet has everything so far from each other?!- he arrived in front of the two story cottage of his dear aunt. The flowers in the front were in full bloom and he could only imagine that the backyard was just as vibrant and full of life, the mix of magical and non magical plants creating a colorful little paradise. He had spent quite a few nights there with him, at the tiny garden table under the thin willow, and his heart ached at the memory.

Mustering up his courage, why was he feeling nervous?, he knocked on the door. Loudly. More times than needed.

“Yeah, yeah I'm coming!” ,came a muffled voice from inside, obviously annoyed.

“What do you- Gellert!” The surprise on his aunt's face spoke volumes: his father hadn't owled her regarding his arrival, typical.

The thin, elderly woman opened the door fully, smiling at her nephew after the shock subsided.

“Hallo, Tante. Sorry for dropping by unannounced…” he shuffled quietly in place, for some reason unable to look at her. Seeing her again, after so long, filled him with emotions he couldn't quite explain. His heart was torn between hugging her and begging for forgiveness. Forgiveness for what? I haven't done anything at this time….

The woman seemed to take notice of the boy's strange attitude and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don't apologize, my dear. It's always good to see you, no matter how scarcely.” With a flick of her wand, how didn't he notice it in her hand? He had lost his touch, she levitated his luggage inside the house. Then she ushered him in as well.

“Have a seat, have a seat! I'll get some tea brewing in no time. Why don't you tell your aunt how you've been in the meantime? What brings you here?” She was as joyous as he remembered her and this only served as more salt on his already bleeding heart.

He sat down on the couch and looked around the room: he didn't remember much from it, he noticed with startling guilt. He had never stopped before to see just who his aunt was, not as a relative, but as a person. Books upon books lined the walls on beautiful, wooden shelves; the fireplace was adorned with portraits of herself and friends, strangely none with a family- he knew she and his father didn't stand each other but didn't she have a family of her own? No one? A quiet gasp escaped him as he noticed a photograph, right in the front and unmissable, a photograph of him as a child, possibly taken the last time he had been there- he must've been 5 or 6 years old…. And she kept it in the very front.

His chain of thought was interrupted by her clearing her throat. Ah, yes, she asked me why I'm here-

“Um…you see…,” he cringed, when did he start stumbling over his words?! “I've been expelled.” He muttered quickly.

She raised a still blonde eyebrow. “Care to repeat? I think my hearing’s failing me.” Her tone, however, suggested she heard it all perfectly.

Gellert took a deep breath. “I…got expelled. My parents sent me.”

“Ah, so I'm a form of punishment now? I see, I see…” her tone was equally bitter and hurt. He wanted to reach out to her, do something, anything, but he couldn't move, guilt paralyzing him.

“N-no!” He hastily said. “I mean, yes, to them- but, um, ah, not to me…. I've missed you, Tante.” It was true, out of anyone in his family, she was the only one he had thought about all those miserable years locked up. Her smiling face and calming voice and wise words, her tooth rotting sweet tea and gentle nature- oh, how many times he had wept at those memories whenever she'd write to him.

But that was adult Gellert, teenage Gellert hated her, saw her as a nuisance just as his father did, and this sudden change of heart took her by surprise.

“You? Missed me? Why, Lerty, are you feeling alright, dear?” She found it within herself to chuckle, chuckle! Bathilda sat down next to him, two cups of tea floating in the air before them and a big tea pot filled them up to the brim. She took his hands into hers, a bit wrinkled with age and garden work, but nonetheless gentle, and she smiled at him.

“I'm glad…. I missed you too, my little boy. How'd you get expelled? I thought Markus was bribing them? Unless you did something so bad not even gold could cover it up?” her voice held no judgment, only a strange tinge of amusement- it helped ease Gellert's nerves.

“Ich- I- kind of, maybe, aus Versehen- accidentally-” he always mixed his languages when nervous. Luckily Bathilda was just as a German as him and understood his botched speech perfectly.

“I killed the headmaster's daughter.” He finally managed to get out in one breath. His eyes fell to the ground, yet he couldn't understand exactly why he felt so ashamed of it- he never felt bad for these things, besides for Ari-

Bathilda laughed, the sweet sound resonating so out of place right after the boy's confession. How can she find this amusing? I killed someone! Gellert watched her bewildered.

“That's it? That's what got the old Narr to give up on you? Not that I don't understand- I can't imagine the loss of one's child…. And Markus decided to send you here because what? He thinks I'd knock some sense into you? Something he clearly didn't manage to?” She laughed again.

“Oh, my sweet boy…no matter what you do in this life I'll never hate you. I will always be here for you.” She squeezed his hands reassuringly. “Ich werde dich nie aufgeben.”

That was it. All it took was a few kind words for Gellert's lip to tremble, then his body to shake, his hands to grasp her tightly and his breath to hitch in his throat. She cared for him, she always did and proved it time and time again- back then, through her heartfelt letters, and now through her words. He couldn't understand where all that love was coming from, how she could accept him despite everything he was and did. Hot, thick tears streamed down his face, salting his trembling lips- slowly at first but quickly they overflooded him, cascading down his chin and neck, wetting the collar of his shirt. He rarely cried in his youth, but when he did it was always dramatically messy without even meaning to. Bathilda held him gingerly as he cried himself dry, one of her hands gently caressing his tearstreaked cheek.

Her gaze was loving and she fished a handkerchief out of her dress pocket. With the gentlest of touches, she wiped him clean before kissing his forehead with motherly kindness.

“Du bist so geliebt, mein kleiner Lerty….”

Tante-aunt

Narr-idiot

Ich werde dich nie aufgeben- i'll never give up on you

Du bist so geliebt- you're so loved

[anarkissed-ao3]

Galladay (Sunday x Gallagher HSR) fix-it mini-fic

V.2.2 SPOILERS!!

Teaser:

"That's good. Hatred is good. Better than being empty. I think you've been empty for a long time."

"You don't know me."

"Don't I? I told you, we're alike, you and I."

“You’re close to death, aren’t you?”

Sunday looks up, surprised, the watery tomb of his elysium flickering like static, as if rays of light distorted by choppy surf, displaced by darkening storm clouds.

It’s empty, save for him.

Gallagher.

“I don’t know.” He admits, simply, from where he’s sitting, left in a crumpled heap after his puppet strings (though whether he was holding them or wearing them is impossible to tell,) were so brutally and ruthlessly cut. He is at Gallagher’s feet until the man moves, crouching down to look into his eyes.

Sunday tries not to let him, to turn his head, but it’s as if Gallagher is everywhere he looks.

“Must be, if you’re seeing me.”

Sunday stares into his eyes- they’re harsh, but calm. He hates it.

“You’re meant to be my reaper?” He asks, almost childishly.

Gallagher laughs, mean and quick, but almost sort of amused, friendly, shaking his head, “As much as I might like to be, nah. We’re the same, little birdie. Two steps from ceasing to exist.”

Sunday bows his head, but Gallagher finds him again, anyway, meeting his gaze.

“It was all for naught.” He breathes, and the elysium shivers, on the verge of collapse.

“Some things are.”

Gallagher's chestnut hair falls into his face, and he pushes it back idly. Sunday wants to bite him, to attack him. Sunday never wants to move again. He is at war with himself.

“How can you be so care-free? As if nothing matters?” It’s bitter- defeated. He is the bird that climbs high into the sky and plummets to the ground. He is watching as the forest floor gets ever-closer. He is watching himself fall.

“Because nothing matters, and ‘cus of that, everything matters. Even a fiction like me knows something as simple as that.”

“I hate you.” Sunday spits, vitriol spilling from him, righteous and hot, a strength of emotion he hasn’t felt in lifetimes, “I hate you.”

“That’s good, birdie.” And Gallagher cups his face, brushes away a lock of his hair, and Sunday, previously bereft of any will to move, snarls at him, baring his teeth, lunging forward. They struggle for a moment, but Gallagher is strangely weak, more man than beast, and he wrestles him to the ground with his hands around his throat.

Gallagher watches him, and then, tilting his head back, he laughs, soft and slow. Breathy as if he’s endlessly tired, deeply exhausted.

“That’s good.” He repeats, softly, “Hatred is good. Better than being empty. I think you’ve been empty for a long time.”

“You don’t know me.”

Gallagher raises an eyebrow, lifts his hands to rest on Sunday’s, still locked around his throat, but not applying any deadly pressure, and he squeezes, as a threat, but Gallagher doesn’t move to remove them.

“Don’t I?”

Sunday freezes, then, his eyes locked to Gallagher’s. He realizes he’s askew- his hair is falling into his eyes, his suit jacket is torn, his vest is broken, half open, held shut only by his wing.

He is not himself, and yet he’s also more honest than he’s ever been.

“You don’t.” It is almost a plea- almost a prayer.

“I told you. We’re alike, you and I.”

“You dog.” Gallagher just smiles.

“A dog, a bird- I wonder if, one day, we will be able to be ourselves rather than what people made of us. You might. If you manage to piece yourself together, turn back toward the living. It’s a bit late for me, I think.”

“If I will be forced,” and he grabs Gallagher’s wrist, one hand still on his neck, nearly bruising him, shock ripping across the man’s features, “-to live- who says that you can die here?”

“I’m no more than a memetic daydream, these days. I couldn’t escape this place even if I wanted to.”

“Then why would you force it upon me?”

Gallagher sighs, his lip twitching with frustration.

“You don’t get it, do you? I’ve made my peace- I’ve done all that I was meant to do. The memory of myself, the memetic concept of Gallagher- it can’t persist further.”

“So seperate yourself. Do you think the construct of Sunday can continue to exist after this? I am what I was made to be. When I leave this elysium, that man will not be allowed to exist further.”

“You’re not listening-”

“No.” And Sunday, fiercely, interlocks their hands, squeezes his fingers so hard it’s just shy of breaking them, digging his nails into his throat. He places Gallagher’s hand on his own neck, squeezes his own throat, “You’re not listening. I will not be forced to persist by a man who would not do the same. If you’re going to disappear, then leave me in peace so that I might do the same.”

Gallagher curses, almost like a dog’s bark, his expression pinched in irritation. He runs a thumb almost gently along Sunday’s trachea, presses his fingers into his thrashing pulse.

“Fuck you.” Gallagher hisses, “I’m done- I did what I-”

“And I’m not? What do I have left?”

“You have your sister- your people- those damn trailblazers-”

“They knew me the way the Family knew me. They knew a person I constructed. I am not that man.”

“Damnit. Damnit.”

“Come with me. Or leave me in peace.”

“You’re fucking insane.” Gallagher snaps, and then, pushing Sunday back, but interlocking the hands that had once been around Sunday’s own throat, rises to his feet, hauling him to his own by their joined hands, “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I think we’ve enough room for another regret, you and I.”

“Then don’t make me bear it alone. Understand?”

“Likewise.”

[stashandtell]

On Tragedies Over HEAs, Emotional Wrecking Balls And The Next Fic I'm Hitting "Publish" On

Since I'm writing in the Harry Potter Fandom, is it more British to say "Emotional Wrecking Bollocks?" 🙃 Note: This post may contain implied spoilers for several works. Everyone in my IRL life to whom I have revealed my recent love/obsession with Harry Potter fanfiction ends up hearing about Draft of Living Death by Maloreiy. I refuse to shut up about it and if my friends can get past some of the content warnings of the piece, l encourage them to read for the thrill of riding the broken emotional rollercoaster that lands every reader in the sinking pit of "tragically bitter-sweet." Bitter-sweet, that is, if you're the kind of person who drinks extra-strong coffee black and thinks sourdough bread tastes "too sugary." Draft of Living Death deserves its own post of praise and soon I'll be sharing a post here's a post of the fics I have listed as "Emotional Wrecking Balls" in my nightmare of a Fanfiction-I've-Read tracking spreadsheet. While I love a happily-every-after (HEA) ending as much as the next reader, I live for fics that are tragic or at least angsty with an ambiguous ending. Perhaps it's the over-abundance of HEAs that I've read that drives me to seek a counterbalance. OR MAYBE, really, it's because I grew up on late second-wave and early third-wave emo music, so it's ingrained in me to emotionally get off on tortured feelings of unrequited love or stories of partners who can't stay together. I have my list of WIPs (aka Works in Progress) and at least half, if not the majority of them would get the #EmotionalWreckingBall tag. I've only recently shared my first fic and my itchy fingers and addled brain are eager to publish the next piece. Based on which one is closest-to-completion, the work that is the most ready to go is a rough piece whose working title in my Drive is currently just called "Dead Dove Do Not Eat," like the common tag. (See info about the DDDNE tag here.) DDDNE was initially the first fic I wanted to prepare-to-share, but since I wanted to launch this writing project around something tied to Neville's birthday (July 30th) and my love of Nevmione, it just felt like starting on this more difficult piece was not The Vibe(tm). But now that I'm refining this tragic work, it feels very close to the world of the first piece I've already posted, in a way that almost makes them undermine each other. (Read my first fic, In All The Ways That Mattered here.) DDDNE takes place about 2 years after 8th Year Graduation, so it's like a jacked-up sequel to IATWTM, if you've wished for a dismal continuation of the storyline. I haven't looked at DDDNE for a month or two so I was surprised as how much I liked reading it today. The good news, for me, is that there was more tenderness written into this fic than I remembered but then I realized, while editing and filling in some gaps, that I've created more emotional investment latch onto. It'll makes it easier to render the reader gutted, where possible. I'm torn if this should be the second offering I put out there but it's so close to being done that I'm very tempted to just say "eff it" and let it rip. I want to read more tragedies and ambiguous endings in one-short formats. So far, I've found that shorter works focusing on dark themes, angst, and no HEA tend to be more successful in achieving their (perceived) aims than longfics, but maybe that's my bias. I have yet to really find a DDDNE longfic that captures me (but I'm open to suggestions in the comments.) There were two big holes in my DDDNE fic that may end up softening my overall approach, making the final product a little less intense. While I want to rebel against the impulse to make things more palatable, the muse is calling, truly. It's telling me that the ending, which I didn't have until about half an hour ago, needs to inform the next review of the piece and I'll need to place anchors for the logic to stand throughout. When it's posted, I'll link the info for the DDDNE fic here. I'm so curious to know what it's title will end up being!

Read Spawn A Spawn Or Go To Az-kah-bahn on ao3

Check out the post about Spawn A Spawn on my tumblr