#everything else is jumbled screaming

[zukkaoru]

dial drunk is so skkcoded. btw

[userchai]

Kiss The Rings- Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader

a/n: I struggled with this one heavy, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! hair pulling, name calling, basic p in v sex, dirty talk, oral (male receiving) reader is just there to be used up, there is consent beforehand of course! 18+ only please! not proofread so if there are mistakes I apologize. feedback is welcome and appreciated! 💞

word-count: 938

Spending your time at the feet of the snarkiest emperor around was not how you pictured your life going, but here you were. Geta was hell bent on everyone knowing you were his. You’d managed to escape once and suffered the consequences, so now you accepted your fate. Maybe you even were starting to like it but you would never let that be known.

“Cmon, you can do so much better than that with that slut mouth, I said, kiss them.” The crazed look in Geta’s eyes made you want to hide and offer yourself up for him at the same time as you sat at his feet. A vile smirk was plastered on his lips as he held his hand out in front of your face. The rings on his fingers were sparkling from the rays of sun peeking through the windows. “Anything for you.” You breathe out, internally rolling your eyes before leaning down and kissing each of his rings.

A sound rumbled out around you, it should’ve been a laugh but it sounded more feral than anything else. “That’s it pet. Look at you, you’re certainly a pathetic creature, sitting on your knees and doing whatever I tell you.” Your face was hot as he degraded you, the words flowing out of his mouth causing a pit to form in your stomach and a wetness between your thighs. “I bet you’d love for me to split you open right now, wouldn’t you?” Everything in you was screaming yes, your heart beating harder as you slowly looked up at him, his eyelids heavy with lust as he scowls down at you.

You slowly open your mouth up for him as he taps the pads of his fingers against your mouth, he slides them in quickly, causing you to gag a little as drool runs around them and down your chin. The salty taste of his skin was the best thing you’d ever tasted, and even though he could be harsh, you would do anything for a taste. “I think we should get some others in here to watch don’t you?” He asks, his fingers fucking your mouth, slowly picking up the pace until they’re going down your throat.

You hum around them, a gargled jumbled mess that made no sense but he knew what you were trying to say. He laughs before slowly pulling his hand away from you, pieces of his clothing slowly falling to the floor below you. “Changed my mind, not today, but maybe if you’re good enough for me I’ll consider letting your favorite general watch you, I know you’d like that.” Before you could say anything he was pulling you up by your arm, his grip around it making your skin sting as he dragged you over to a chair in the room. “Bend over for me, now.” He snarls, pushing down on the middle of your back, your hands gripping onto the arms of the chair so hard you may have splinters later.

“What a good little servant. Tell me you love it baby, tell me you love when your emperor fucks you.” He says, pushing your legs apart and flipping your dress up, he wastes no time before spitting in his hand. He strokes himself a few times quickly, spitting down against your ass and letting it run down to your pussy before he’s thrusting in. The stretch and burn sends your mind into a frenzy. You push your ass back against him as a quiet moan falls from your lips. “I- I love it, love you, love when you fuck me please sir, please.” You babble, his hand twists up in your hair, he pulls on it so hard you’re sure he’s actually pulling some hair out, but you didn’t care. He could feel you pulsing around him at his rough actions.

Loud smacks ring throughout the room as one of Geta’s big hands lands down against your ass, causing you to tense up. “Shhh, you’ll take what’s given to you. That’s for being late meeting me here today, you know better.” He smacks you 6 more times, before he’s roughly pulling his cock out of you. The emptiness you feel sending a bratty whine tumbling from your lips as he turns you around to face him. He makes quick work in pushing you down onto your knees, the dirty floor beneath you rubbing against them uncomfortably. Your heart pounds as he strokes himself in front of your face, sweat beads roll down his tone chest and onto his stomach, the urge to lick him clean overwhelms you entirely. “Open that whore mouth.” You normally hate swallowing, but for him you would do anything.

Your mouth drops open, your tongue lolling out like some sort of dumb puppy as he rubs the head against your tongue. The salty taste of his pre-cum overwhelms you as you smell his skin. He pinches your cheeks together, mumbling about ‘how you’re his favorite hole to fuck.’ Your heartbeat is in your ears, wetness pooling below you as you ache. You knew he wouldn’t take care of you this time because of your disobedience earlier in the day. He moans out a choked sort of sob before his cum is hitting your tongue, running down your throat. He strokes himself a few more times before laughing at the fucked our expression on your face, turning his hand over to look at it before showing it to you.

“Looks like there’s some left behind pet, clean it up.” He demands sticking his hand out to you. “Anything for you sir, anything for you.”

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[alisonsfics]

too good to me

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: after weeks of stress and being on edge, carmy blows up and yells at marcus, but carmy holds such a special place in your heart that you go to his apartment afterward to see how he’s doing

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, arguing, general angst and then fluff

You all knew that something had been on Carmy’s mind. The past few weeks, he’d been more than just anxious. He was really putting his perfectionist tendencies to the extreme. It had been three weeks since officially opening The Bear.

Carmy knew that the first few weeks were crucial to a new business, especially one as volatile as a new-age restaurant. He’d been stressed, which was nothing new for him. But, it was more extreme. He had gotten into an hour-long screaming match with Richie about what specific angle the hostess stand should be pointed.

Everyone was trying to keep Carmy calm, but it had to be done carefully. If he picked up on a tone that was too sympathetic, he’d yell “I’m fine,” and storm off.

With everyone walking on eggshells around him, the tickets for the orders got a little jumbled and in a backwards order.

“Somebody better fucking fix this.” Carmy said, running his hand through his hair. You’d seen him do that move a hundred times, and it usually meant that everything was getting overwhelming. “It’s alright, Carmy. I can handle this. Just go take a quick break outside for me, please?” You asked him.

You were Carmy’s weak spot.

He’d always had a special place in his heart for you. He was wrapped around your finger. If anyone else had told him to take a break, he would have told them to fuck off.

Carmy walked around the corner, where Marcus walked up to him with a new pastry in hand. “Hey, chef. I was thinking we could add a new pastry to the menu for that special event next week?” Marcus asked. It was a perfectly innocent question, especially since Marcus didn’t have any urgent work to be done. In that moment, Marcus was just lacking in reading the room.

“Tonight’s service is a disaster, and you’re wasting your fucking time doing this?” Carmy yelled, smacking the dish out of Marcus’ hand.

That was too far. Farther than Carmy had ever pushed it.

You inserted yourself between the two men. “Marcus, you okay?” You asked him. He nodded his head, but looked down at a small cut on the back of his hand. You placed your hand on his forearm. “Go get that cut washed, and then help Sydney sort out those tickets please.” You said, remaining calm.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus said, walking towards the sink.

Carmy was frozen in place, like even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “You,” you started to say, turning around to face Carmy.

“I know,” he said, softly.

“Go home, Berzatto. You need to cool off.” You said, trying to be firm but also gentle. Carmy huffed and ran his hand through his hair again. “But I just…one more—” he started to say.

“Home, Carmen.” You repeated, firmer this time. You called him many things: Carmy, Carm, Bear, and the occasional pet name, but never Carmen.

He walked away, but you heard him slam his hand against the wall as he left.

Still rattled from the whole encounter, you tried to get back on your game. “Syd, you’ve got this,” you encouraged your friend, as she directed the kitchen. The rest of the service was a little bumpy as all of you were still a little distracted.

At the end of the service, you were all silently cleaning up your stations. Normally at this point in the night, you were all catching up and joking around with each other. But instead, you all were recalling the night’s events in your heads.

You lightly knocked on the door of the office, where Sugar was sitting and looking through some forms. “Hey, Nat. You mind if I head out a little early? Richie said he’d clean up my station. I was gonna go check on Carmy and see if he’s alright. I’ve been really worried about him.” You told her.

“Yeah yeah, go for it. I think he’ll want to see you. And it’ll be good for him to talk to someone, and you’re the only one he really talks to.” Sugar told you, pulling you in for a quick hug before you left. She hesitated. “Let me know how he is…I’m worried about him,” she told you, softly.

“I will, I promise.” You said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. You turned to leave the office. “Carm’s lucky to have you,” she told you as you walked away. You turned backwards as you kept walking. “The feelings mutual,” you added.

You walked up to Carmy’s apartment and knocked on the door. “Carmy, it’s me, please let me in,” you said.

You heard silence on the other side of the door. You fished your spare key out of your pocket and slid it into the lock. You turned the key slowly and let yourself into his apartment.

You walked into his dark apartment. You saw Carmy’s silhouette as he sat on the couch, staring out the window.

“I gave you that key for emergencies.” He said, coldly. You flipped on the light switch, bringing some light into the dark apartment. “I think what I saw earlier calls for a little intervention, don’t you?” You asked. Carmy sat in silence, continuing to stare out the window. You walked around to the front of the couch so you could face him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, still refusing to look at you. Carmy felt guilty about what he’d done. He’d never yelled at you before, and he was ashamed that you had to see him scream like that. Carmy cared more about your opinion than he did about anyone else’s.

You walked towards Carmy, only stopping inches in front of him. “When was the last time you ate?” You asked, blatantly. He leaned back against the couch, trying to add some more distance between you both. He shrugged, genuinely not knowing the answer to your question.

You dug into your work bag and pulled out a takeout box. You stopped by Carmy’s favorite burger restaurant in Chicago to grab him some food. You knew Carmy would sometimes forget to eat when he was feeling anxious. “Eat it,” you told him, handing the box over to him.

He reluctantly opened the box and started eating. You set your work bag on the ground and sat down on the chair that faced the couch.

Carmy shifted nervously in his seat as your gaze was set on him. He was unnerved that you weren’t talking about what happened at the restaurant.

Carmy could normally read you like the back of his hand, but something about your current expression was throwing him off. He couldn’t tell if you were going to scream at him or not.

“Are you here to yell at me like everybody else? I already know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have yelled at Marcus, and I shouldn’t have argued when you told me to leave.” He told you, hoping he could apologize and avoid you yelling at him.

“You know that I’m not here to yell at you. You really fucked up, but Marcus knows that you were just stressed. I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay because I’ve never seen you blow up like that” You said, finally showing your cards. Carmy frowned, looking guilty.

“God, you’re too good to me. I acted like a piece of shit today, and you’re still trying to make sure I’m okay.” He said, still amazed by the love you had for him. He was looking at you like you were his whole world.

He set down the takeout box and used his hand to call you over to him. You stood up and walked towards him, and he patted the seat next to him.

You joined him on the couch. You both were sitting so close together that you were practically in his lap. He turned his body so he could face you.

He let his hand rest on your thigh, feeling more grateful for you than he ever had. You let your fingers caress his bicep, “you deserve to be okay. I want you to be okay,” you said, softly.

You studied his face. You noticed the small bags that had formed under his eyes. You wondered when the last time he’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep was.

You softly brushed his hair out of his face. When he was stressed, Carmy liked to pull on a certain strand of hair right in the front. You knew him like the back of your hand. You noticed all of his quirks; quirks that most people never picked up on.

Carmy watched as you gently tried to soothe him. He was sure you could see the adoration in his eyes.

“I hope you know how perfect you are. You always know exactly what to say.” He said, smiling at you. He pulled your hand away from his hair and interlaced your fingers. He’d wanted to kiss the back of your hand, but couldn’t push himself to do it.

“Do you wanna talk about why you’ve been so stressed recently?” You asked. You were treading lightly, but you wanted to understand what was making him so anxious. You hated seeing him push everyone away, and you wanted to help in any way you could.

He shrugged. “It’s just the restaurant,” he said, not knowing how else to explain it.

“The restaurant is doing amazing though, Carmy. You have no need to stress about that. You’ve been doing such a great job.” You told him, sincerely.

You watched him get a little more nervous. He was looking down at his lap, avoiding meeting your gaze. You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to silently reassure him.

“You can tell me anything, Carm,” you said, softly.

“You just mean so much to me,” he started to explain. You were a little confused as to where he was going with this conversation. The room was silent as Carmy gathered his thoughts.

“Everything at the restaurant has been going so well. Every time my life has ever gone well, something terrible has happened next. I feel like I’m just waiting for everything to…I don’t know, crumble? Losing the restaurant would be terrible, but losing you and the rest of the team would be devastating. You guys are my family.” He told you, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. You quickly pulled him into you arms, giving him the tightest hug you could. He clutched onto you like he was scared you’d disappear if he let you go.

“You aren’t going to lose anybody,” you said, holding back tears just from watching how emotional Carmy was.

The soft leather scent of Carmy’s cologne occupied your thoughts as you held him close. You both stayed attached like that for a few minutes. The room was silent, but a comfortable silent.

When you both finally pulled apart, Carmy dried the tears off his cheeks. “Nothing bad is going to happen with the restaurant. We’re all family, and that doesn’t go away based on what happens with the restaurant. You will never lose me, or any of us.” You promised him.

You earned a small chuckle from Carmy when you held your pinky up to him. “You won’t lose me either,” he said, dutifully going through with your pinky promise.

You both stared into each other’s eyes, unsure what to say next. The tension in the air nearly made it hard to breathe.

“I should probably get going and let you have the rest of your evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, standing up from the couch.

You had never felt so awkward around Carmy. Just the task of walking to the front door felt like a giant opportunity to embarrass yourself. Carmy also quickly jumped up from the couch, feeling equally self-conscious.

His hand lightly grazed your back as he led you back to the front door. “Thank you for coming over and talking to me. You really helped calm me down.” He said, sincerely. You smiled and nodded your head at him.

“Make sure to call me if you ever need to talk about anything. I promise that I’ll always be here to listen,” you assured him.

The tension returned.

You both chose to avoid it.

“Well, goodnight,” you both quickly said, at the same time. You rushed out the door, and Carmy closed it behind you.

The door clicked into place and seemingly broke you both out of your trance.

You both realized you had missed the perfect opportunity. The perfect opportunity to finally confess those feelings that had been weighing you down.

You lowered your head, almost shamefully, and started walking down the hallway.

Carmy leaned his head against the closed door, wondering how he could have missed it. The girl of his dreams was walking down the hallway away from his apartment, away from him.

He started to walk towards his bedroom when he suddenly thought “fuck it,” and turned around.

At the same time in the hallway, you had the same thought.

Your heart beating in your ears, you turned on your heel and headed back towards Carmy’s apartment.

Carmy started walking back towards the front door. Before he could reach the door, he watched the knob spin and the door fling open.

You were back and standing in front of him.

Realizing you both had the same idea, Carmy quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His strong tattooed hands cupped your cheeks as he finally kissed you. You kissed him back immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

He moved one of his hands away from you, but just a second, so he could quickly close the front door behind you.

He pushed you against the back of the door. The back of your head bumped against the door causing you to grin against the kiss. “Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, cupping the back of your head. You quickly nodded your head. “I’m fine, I promise.” You said, grabbing his collar and pulling him back to kiss you.

He smirked against your lips at your eagerness to not break the kiss for even a second. He held onto your waist and pinned you against the door, while you wrapped your arms around his neck and toyed with his hair.

His lips felt perfect against yours. The kiss was somehow everything you’d dreamed of but completely unexpected.

You shifted your weight against him, gently nudging him away from the door. Carmy picked up on what you were doing. You noticed his signature smirk as he guided you towards the couch.

You fell back onto the couch, pulling Carmy down on top of you. All his weight landed on you, causing you to wince. “Sorry, that more violent than it was supposed to be.” He said, sheepishly. He quickly shifted his weight, so he was holding himself above you.

You both were giggly as these little mishaps continued to happen. It suited your relationship. You both had always been able to joke with each other, especially because of your matching sense of humor. It made sense that when you both finally got together that Carmy would accidentally bump your head against the door. But it didn’t make things awkward. You both were so comfortable just giggling with each other.

“Get back here, Berzatto,” you said, connecting your lips again. He quickly obliged. While Carmy loved laughing with you, he had been waiting years to kiss you and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbled as he kissed you. You quickly slipped his tshirt over his head and tossed it to the side.

Then, you both heard a strange muffled sound. You pulled out of the kiss and gave Carmy a concerned look. It sounded like someone was in the apartment.

Your face completely changed when you realized what it was. “Carmy, that’s your phone. You butt dialed someone,” you whispered. His eyes also grew wide. He quickly grabbed his phone out of his pocket, hoping he could hang up and not say anything.

Once his phone was in his hand, he realized it was a FaceTime call and he was now face-to-face with his sister.

“Oh, shit. Sugar?” He said, the shock clear on his face. You immediately held your hand over your mouth, trying to remain completely silent.

“Hey, uh yeah. You called me? Are you okay?” She asked, confused by the whole situation.

“Oh, I must’ve done it on accident, sorry. Listen, I’m really sorry about yelling tonight. I’m gonna come in tomorrow and apologize to everyone though.” He said, sincerely. You were finding it so hard to not giggle. He was on the phone with Sugar while lying directly on top of you, and you just had to stay silent.

“It’s okay, Carm. Everyone knows you’ve been going through a lot. Y/N was going to head over to your apartment. Did you talk to her?” Natalie asked, genuinely invested.

Carmy quickly nodded his head. “Yeah, she came by earlier and we talked. I’m doing a lot better. Yeah, she’s umm—” Carmy stalled as he tried to come up with a lie.

Natalie picked up on his hesitation immediately. “Oh shit. Is she— are you two— wait is she there now?” She asked, putting it all together. You froze, trying to anticipate Carmy’s next move.

He quickly sat up on the couch before pulling you into his lap. “Hi, Nat,” you said, smiling at the camera and bracing for her reaction. You both watched her jaw drop.

“Did my two favorite people finally confess their love for each other? Oh, you guys,” she awed, being able to read you both just from the way you both were blushing.

Carmy buried his face in your neck. He knew how long Natalie had been rooting for this to happen, and he was having a hard time controlling how red his face was.

“You’re good for him. I’m really happy for you guys,” she said to you. You smiled in return and thanked her.

“Well, I’ll let you both get back to it.” She said, winking at you both and ending the call.

“So, how long before everybody knows?” He asked you. You just laughed in response, knowing it wouldn’t be long.

“I think she’s already sent an all-caps text to Sydney and Richie, and the rest of them will know before we go into work tomorrow.” You told him, honestly.

“We could just stay here tomorrow. We don’t really need to go in, right?” He said, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“Would that be the responsible thing to do?” You teased him. He chuckled and pecked your lips. “You know I would spend every second with you, whether it was responsible or not.” He told you.

You giggled, stopping him from kissing you. “Awww we’re only fifteen minutes in and I’m already your biggest weakness? You big softie,” You continued to joke around with him.

“You’ve always been my weakness, sweetheart,” he said, quickly picking up and carrying you to his bedroom.

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[bumblesimagines]

why did you pick me?

you'll never convince me to stay.

Lestat de Lioncourt

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical IWTV warnings, toxic relationship (it's lestat lets bffr), (Y/N)'s European but its up to the reader which country, implied abusive family/father

New Orleans... 

He'd intended to make the city his new home and safe haven. It'd broken him to step onto that boat and part ways with the country he'd been born and raised in, but he'd always thought about traveling and finding something new for himself. At least it was what he told himself as America grew closer and he stepped onto foreign soil. 

New Orleans seemingly never slept, and its residents walked the streets at night just as they did during the day; providing him with the perfect reason to search for a home for himself with the riches he'd taken from his family home. It all felt perfect if he had to be honest. The music pouring out from each establishment filled him with joy and the desire to dance and while the people harbored their own judgemental thoughts, they acted as welcoming as a sweet old grandmother.  

But, of course, it'd all been too perfect. He'd been a fool to believe he could manage to evade the golden cage by simply flying an ocean away.

"I would say this is a fine upgrade from that little house you called home, no?" His voice, once lovely like silk on the skin, now sounded more like nails dragging along a chalkboard. It was light and amused, and (Y/N) could hear the smile when he spoke of his former home.. the very one he ripped from his arms. "There is even a piano for you to play, mon chérie."

"Do you believe a piano and a pretty house will make me stay after what you did?" (Y/N) tore his eyes away from the dancing fire to face him, a familiar heat burning inside his gut and traveling up to his chest. There'd been a time he found anger to be a fleeting emotion, one he buried down to focus on hope. 

The smile on Lestat's face faltered, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing slightly. "I saved you. I saved you from that wretched family, that mongrel. I made it so no one else could ever hurt you-"

"Is that what you think? That I was some damsel in distress and you the charming knight? I can never return home because of you. Why did you pick me? Because I learned how to play the piano? Because you heard things no one else was meant to hear?" There was the prickly sensation of tears in the back of his eyes but he knew if he let them fall, it wouldn't be salty tears he'd be wiping away. Everything about the creature he'd been turned into was... foul. Disturbing.

"Oh, dearest," The annoyance on Lestat's face vanished, promptly replaced with pity as he crossed the room and delicately set his hands upon (Y/N)'s face with a gentle coo. "You are like the dazzling moon, glowing brighter than the stars and candelights. When people look at you, they marvel with splendid, and when you play... it is a gorgeous melody that must simply live forever. Tu es unique en ton genre. That.. family of yours hardly understood your light but I do." 

His way with words had always been charming, alluring even. But each time (Y/N) gazed into his eyes, all he saw was a mouth stained with red and the wailing screams of his mother discovering her husband's corpse. Lestat had paid her no mind, French intertwining with English on his tongue as he switched between anger and cooing until (Y/N)'s jumbled mind allowed him to take his outstretched hand despite the hot blood dripping from between his fingers. 

(Y/N) stepped back with a swirling head, dragging himself further and further from Lestat until he could breathe again. "You'll never convince me to stay." He exhaled shakily, his hand grasping the top of a chair. His fingers dug into the wood, hearing it begin to creak and crack. "I will not live with the monster who took my family, my life, away from me."

[azrielwingspan]

'SOMEONE' (AZRIEL X READER)- PART 2

Summary: You are convinced that Azriel was the one to send the note. Anxious about facing him, you lose yourself in your head but strangely, things are turning out...weird.

Warnings: Mild swearing

A/N: Thankyou so much for the response on the first part you guys! It was supposed to be a one shot but due to popular demand, I wrote down a second. Not gonna lie, I'm a bit nervous about this because peer pressure haha. Really hope this meets expectations. Did my best to make it fun and playful.

Read Part-1 here.

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

'It's hard not to pry when you're involved.' The words kept flitting through your mind , jumbling your thoughts and stirring up a butterfly party in your stomach.

You knew it was from Azriel. Who else could it be ? Not believing it at first, you tried to think of all other possibilities and came up with zero. No else could possibly know about it.

Except him.

After stewing upon the unexpected turn of events for a good couple of hours, you did something anyone else in your position would've done.

You tried to hide.

From a spymaster.

You were really setting standards in the department of intelligence.

It had all started when you were having lunch with Cass and Mor at the House of Wind. "How was your new book?" Mor asked stuffing herself with the mashed potato in front of her. "It was alright. It just felt a little flat." you stabbed at the piece of chicken on your plate.

"Why the gloomy face? Everything okay?" Cass looked at your face intently. You sat up a little straighter, forcing a small smile onto your face. "I'm great."

"Are you on something?" Your head shot towards Mor, a flabbergasted look on your face.

"What made you say that?"

"You've been acting weird since yesterday and just this morning you stared off into space with a stupid smile on your face. Now, you're gloomy. I've seen this before--"

"Oh for Mother's sake, I'm not on anything Mor." A choked laugh burst out of you at the incredulity of it.

"Is it because of the stable boy thing yesterday? Shit Y/N, we didn't know you still --"

You narrowed your eyes at Cass , daring him to finish that statement. He immediately backed off, putting up his hands in the air.

"Just a concerned friend." He said with a teasing smile.

"You guys are the worst." Soft laughter was shared between the three of you before disaster struck.

Footsteps echoed from the stairwell making your head whip towards it. Eyes widening a fraction, your brain was thrown into a whirlpool of thoughts , each one fighting for dominance over the other. You knew with absolute certainty that it was him. There was no one else in the house. You also knew the sound of his footsteps but that was a fact to be pondered upon on a different day.

Wait, he was a spymaster. Why was he making a sound in the first place?

He wants you to know. Doesn't want to catch you off guard. The still functioning part of your brain helps you out.

"Are you having a seizure?" Mor's voice registered in your head.

"No , but I might." you muttered under your breath, your body reacting before your mind could give it a command. Almost stumbling from your chair all the while trying to look as unbothered as possible, you excused yourself from the table mumbling a reason to your companions.

Exit points available. The stairwell. Your mind supplied. YOU CAN'T PASS BY HIM. DO BETTER.

The plant. - THE PLANT ?! What were you supposed to do ? Photosynthesize yourself ?!

Under the table.- Ah yes. Have a front row view to his crotch. Way to go.

Balcony.- We don't have WINGS! You screamed at yourself.

The door to your right.- Finally. A good option.

Your face must have exhibited a plethora of emotions during the internalized battle with yourself because Mor and Cass were staring at you like you had two heads.

"Y/N. Please sit down. Something is seriously wrong." Cass said rising from his chair.

"No. No. I just forgot to do something very very important. I'm going to be screwed. I just need to---"

"Have lunch. I'll help you out with whatever it is." The voice like night whispered over your skin setting off goosebumps in its wake. His scent enveloped you, taunting and teasing your senses. It almost seemed to whisper- Look at me.

So you did.

You had expected a smirk or a smile or even a twinkle in his eye. Nothing. No hint or trace of what had happened. No clue to suggest that he knew or that he was the one to send the note.

What if you were wrong? What if it wasn't him but someone else playing a joke on you?

"No it's alright. I..." You didn't get to finish the sentence as he pulled your chair back and motioned for you to sit down.

Sighing out loud you returned to your place at the table trying not to look at Azriel as he took the seat across. "What did you forget?" Cass was starting to sound suspicious. Racking your brain for a quick and believable answer, you blurted out "I have to respond to a letter. A very important one."

The double meaning of your reply hit you the moment it left your mouth. Your body betrayed you and turned your gaze towards Azriel.

Nothing. Blank as a slate.

Starting to grow frustrated, you stabbed into your chicken a little too enthusiastically.

"It's already dead." Azriel said dryly, not even bothering to look up from his food.

Mor let out a snort and thankfully started to recall a conversation she had with a friend of hers. You could feel the tension leave your body as the conversation and attention was steered away from you.

Get your shit together.

Fortunately, all of you were done eating not long after and everyone went back to their duties. Azriel hadn't said or done anything for the rest of the afternoon and you were seriously starting to doubt if you were wrong.

You made your way back to your room trying to make sense of your emotions along the way. There was a sense of relief that Azriel didn't know and yet it was tinged with the undertones of disappointment that he didn't know after all.

Did you want him to know or did you not?

You didn't know. UGH. Idiot.

Stepping into your room, you almost missed the note that caught under your foot.

Fuck. Another one.

Heart thudding painfully, you picked it up with trembling hands. It read:

Anyone is capable of falling in love with your heart. Me? I want to be the someone you give it to. -'Someone'

A/N: I did not intend to end it this way at all but here we areeee. Hope you guys enjoyed it !

TAGLIST : @crazylokonugget , @hayrunnwr , @fxckmiup , @wildlyobserving , @harrystylesfan2686 , @63angel , @charlotteintumbleland , @willowpains , @nyx-the-alien , @acourtofbatboydreams , @marina468 , @anuttellaa , @kalulakunundrum , @amygdtjhddzvb , @lulu22156

[angelickisscs]

we are or we aren’t ~ angst ‧₊˚

୨ ୧ ˚₊ ~ pairing ~ jude bellingham x reader

summary: Sometimes, you have to be true to yourself even if that means breaking two hearts in the process !

warnings: no happy ending, my sincerest apologies!!

YOUR HEAD WAS in your hands, that nagging feeling of embarrassment pulling on your heart as it inflicted life altering pain like it was nothing. The sound of it pounding against your ears, looking for anyway to escape had you close to explosion.

It was a form of embarrassment you had never felt. Sure, you had tripped and fell in front of masses of people or stuttered while speaking to your superiors but those only kept you awake, searching for a way to make it stop.

This situation had you clawing down metal walls, screaming at the top of your lungs to be heard by no one.

The anger was what stood out the most, however. It was indescribable how this man had been making you feel for months. It engulfed you, flowing through your blue-tinted veins as if it were your own blood.

He had you running in circles around him, clasping at any form of attention he gave you that wasn’t to do with the main reason he associated with you. Sure, it had you embarrassed. But after it lingered in your mind for a simple day more than it should have, it turned into relentless rage. Being taken out on everyone but him because you could not tolerate the thought of hurting his feelings.

You could not bare the thought of making him feel the same way he had been making you feel since the very second you met him.

“Look, I did not mean to upset you. If I’d know this is how you’d react, I wouldn’t have said it.” Jude said, digging the hole he had willingly stepped in far deeper than it ever needed to go.

“What else could it make me feel Jude?” You scoffed, looking up towards him with a slight grimace.

You had done that weird side-stepping thing with people where you would always end up going in the same direction. You had coughed in a completely silent room. You had taken your dog out for a walk where she had started barking at every living being like crazy.

All moments where you had used the expression worst day of my life. But now, it was no longer an expression. It was an emotion so deeply imprinted inside of you that you could feel it soaring in your bones.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” The uncertainty in his voice threw knives at you and yet his eyes refused to watch as you bled out directly in front of him.

“What for?” You tried, your body standing up only to take a step back from him. The position you had taken on the sofa when walking in making you feel more vulnerable than ever.

Jude paused, reaching his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. A nervous act that you had swiftly caught onto. “For saying all of that to them. I do not know what I was thinking.”

The silence was deafening, eating not only you alive. It tore you apart limb from limb, taking time between choosing what to go after next.

You knew exactly what he was thinking. A mutual friend had asked if the two of you were dating, something not even you knew the answer too. But Jude did, he was quick to deny the innocent allegation. Explaining that you were just friends and nothing more. And you could do nothing but stand there, eavesdropping on the conversation he was having from afar.

It made each muscle in your body seize, the pain that he had caused not only mental.

“I panicked, it was stupid, and I take accountability for that.” He made an attempt to fill the gap you had previously set between you both. All he needed was a weak hand raise from you to stop in his tracks and you gave him that.

There was not much you could think to say. His weak attempt at an apology like putting a plaster over a gun shot wound. Your heart tightened, feeling everything that he was saying, the shattered pieces of it tearing apart the rest of your body.

Words barrelled against your closed lips, jumbling themselves into sentences that did not even make sense to you. Your gaze drifted towards the hardwood floors that coated much of his house, having falling victim as you stared harshly at them in attempt to not let the tears fall.

Why did you even come here in the first place?

Why would you even get in a car with him? Sitting silently, letting the emotions brew in you like you were creating a mystical potion. That was until he had pointed your silence out, asking sincerely if you were okay.

“I can’t keep doing this.” You shook your head, some silly part of you disagreeing with your own feelings but it was far too late to go back. “We can’t.”

“Doing what?” The crack that split his words in half had you allowing the first tears to break free from the prison they had found themselves inside.

“Whatever this situation is! You said it. We are just friends, nothing more,” Each syllable duplicated the anguish you were feeling. “But then we get back home and then it’s the complete opposite.”

The air that surrounded the both of you was freezing, wrapping you in a not so comforting hug. It circled around the room like a lion encircling its prey.

Finally looking upwards, your eyes met with his brown ones, the pain that filled them so deeply confusing you. Minutes ago, it was the exact opposite. A barrier of some sorts keeping you from seeing what he was actually feeling and now it had finally lowered, you could not help but wish that it had happened sooner.

“I don’t-.” He had begun but you were not in the correct state of mind to listen to why he was not ready to be in a relationship for the thousandth time.

“It’s either we are, or we aren’t Jude. I am exhausted of being some little toy you can play around with, leave, and then come back when you need a fuck or some comfort.” Your voice was exasperated from all the weight it forced itself to carry, your throat begging for any form of liquids, the tears that were now rhythmically falling down your cheeks not doing enough to complete this request.

“You’re so much more than that to me, I promise.” Jude stated, taking steps towards you so he could place his hands upon your cheeks, wiping away each singular tear. His forehead fell downwards to meet yours, his eyes closing as he did so.

You paused, cherishing the feelings of his skin against yours for what was the last time. “So, we aren’t then?”

Keeping your eyes open, you awaited an answer. The answer you were bound to get from the very beginning.

“No! I just-.” His eyes stayed closed as he spoke but your face moving away from his grip had them opening once again, the panic beginning to set in.

Words failed to fall past his open lips, a sense of urgency fuelling his every movement. His hand moved out to grab yours and yet it could not. The ever-growing gap you were putting between the two of you only now hitting you.

“Please, I just need to figure some stuff out. I want you; I want to scream from the rooftops how much I enjoy being around you. How my mind is filled with thoughts about you every second of the day. I want to be with you.”

“But.” You finished for him making his shoulders slump in defeat. “Theres always a but with you and even if you want all of that, you have continuously failed to give it to me no matter how much I have asked you to.”

Jude’s head began to shake, refusing to process and accept everything you were finally saying. You were ready to let him go but he was not ready to let that happen.

“I will give it to you and so much more. I know I have failed you, just let me make it right.” His pleads fell upon death ears.

Your legs began to take control of your body, your head not in the right space to be able to make any qualified decisions in this second. They took you out of that monstrous room, guiding you seamlessly through the house using a route you had taken far too many times.

Jude was quick to follow you, calling your name but as your pace quickened, his body froze. He had never felt this type of pain before. So deeply and harshly like a million knives had punctured one particular section of his heart.

His eyes followed you as you opened his front door, the shock that overran his paralyzed body finally giving way to the adrenaline so he could chase after your retreating figure.

But it was far too late, just like everything else he had done with you. With nothing to do but watch, that is exactly what he did. From his doorstep on the cold and windy night, his eyes painfully trained on your car as you drove out of his life.

You had stupidly given your heart to the brown eyed thief and would spending the rest of your life in debt for that.

[biolumien]

hi! o em gee i am absolutely in love with ur writing! i quite literally devoured ur master list when i discovered ur blog. i love how you write all the characters it truly makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside >_<

since requests are open i was wondering if you could write some hurt/comfort for reno ichikawa where the reader puts themselves in danger to protect reno but reno gets upset by this as he can’t stand the thought of possibly losing them :’))

if you don’t want to write this it’s totally okay! and thank you so much for taking the time to read this <33

notes: hi hi yes :') of course i can do that for you!! i am still. a bit under the weather while writing this so its a bit on the shorter side so i hope that's okay... blehh

i need a doctor!

reno ichikawa x gn!reader mentions of hospitals / burns word count: 509

you were always the self-sacrificing type. you frequently disregarded your safety–mostly because you felt it wasn’t that important deep down. after all, you were a measly little tick in the cog of a machine far larger than you, composed of parts that were much more valuable and important. what did it matter that one small cog got knocked out of line?

that’s what you told yourself frequently.

you’d jumped in front of a wyvern kaiju’s blast, shoving reno out of the way as you took the full brunt of the attack. in woozy vision, you watched as reno screamed something, rushing forward towards you as everything went black. 

when you next awoke, you were in the hospital. pain ripples across your body unevenly–and as you look down, your entire chest is wrapped in bandages, a nasty burn spreading across your arms. as you look up, you find reno looking down at you–exhaustedly at first, but then wider and with more urgency as soon as he realizes that you’re awake.

he immediately lets out a shaking sigh. 

“reno?” you ask worriedly. “are you–”

“are you insane?!” 

you’ve only heard reno shout a handful of times. most of the time it was always lighthearted–him yelling at kafka to quiet down, a casual shouting match between him and iharu, but to hear it targeted at you was something else entirely. he brushes the corner of his eye, taking a breath.

“sorry for shouting,” reno says, leaning forward to pull you in as tight of a hug as he possibly dared to, gingerly moving his arms around your wrapped ribs. “i just… i don’t like seeing you do that.”

“i wanted to help,” you murmur weakly. 

“there were other ways you could’ve helped other than doing that,” reno says weakly, pressing his face against your shoulder gingerly. “you could’ve died there. what were you thinking, tanking the wyvern’s breath like that? that thing can destroy buildings! how could you–”

“it was going to hit you,” you whisper, reaching up a shaking arm to touch the nape of his neck, gently pulling him a little closer. “i couldn’t have let that happen. i’m not–as strong as kikoru, i couldn’t have blasted the head of that thing right off–i just didn’t–i just didn’t want to…”

“i don’t want to lose you!” 

reno’s voice shakes as the words come out in a jumbled mess.

“i don’t… i don’t want to lose you,” reno repeats. “every time you do–every time you do something reckless, i get so–” his grip almost tightens on you for an instant before he remembers that you’re still hurt, and his hand loosens its grip. “i love you too much to let you do this to yourself.”

your heart thuds in your chest.

“reno,” you whisper.

“please,” reno says quietly, looking up at you, his eyes brimming with tears. “promise me. promise me you won’t do anything like that again.”

“i promise,” you say, pressing your face against reno’s cheek. 

and when reno leans into your touch, you think you hear him laugh.

[blkkizzat]

ꨄ︎『Sneaky Links』ꨄ︎ (PART 2)

Sukuna x Reader

(Mentions of Yuji x Reader)

18+ Minors - DNI

PART 2 of 2 (Read Part 1 first!!!!)

“You should know by now, Y/N, disobedient brats need to be punished.”

Summary: Y/N is a dickmatized manipulative brat. Sukuna is Sukuna. Poor sweet Yuji is collateral damage. CW: cheating, rough play, unprotected sex, spit play, brat taming, spanking, pussy slapping, manipulation, fingering, anal play, edging, tit job, blow job, slight dubcon, blood play, sukuna being toxic, ntr, y/n thinking with her pussy not her brain (but it’s hard not to when you got that wet wet). WK: 5.3k of 8.5k Slightly Black female coded but no descriptors.

A/N: Part 2 took longer than I expected but I hope y'all enjoy it!

So much smut my gawd my mind is so cracked.

“You should know by now, Y/N, disobedient brats need to be punished.” 

Before you could even feel the chill from his threat, your world was spinning as Sukuna had repositioned your body to lay across his thick muscular thighs on the edge of the bed. 

The exact situation you were in didn’t click until a loud smack reverberated in your ears and you felt white hot pain blossom across your left asscheck.

Smack. 

Fully aware of the second, you hissed as you felt the full force of the spank on your right cheek rock its way into your cunt. 

Smack. 

Three spanks in and you were moaning, 

Sukuna’s assault on your ass continued leaving you panting and drooling as your tongue lolled out of your mouth.

Smack. 

A fourth and you gripped his thigh for leverage so you could push your bottom up to meet his hand halfway. The action allowed the friction to transfer deeper into your core making your body convulse with pleasure.

“S-Sukuna!” you screamed out as the fifth smack this time was directly on your pussy. 

Already drenched from your current arousal and earlier sex with Yuji, the squelching sound your slit made from being slapped was absolutely vulgar. The sounds turn you on more than you can bear at the moment and you could tell from laying across his lap, it’s having a similar effect on Sukuna as well. 

The need for him to fuck you was overwhelming.

“FuckMeFuckMeFuckMePLEASEEE!” your words slurry jumble as you writhed against the growing bulge beneath you.

“Fuck you, Y/N?” Sukuna taunted toyingly. 

Another soggy smack rang out from your pussy. 

Your eyes rolled back as you bit your lip so hard you might have drawn blood then but wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Not when you address me so casually...”

Smack.

“...and certainly not when you still have that other brat’s spunk in your cunt, slut. It’s fucking disrespectful to me.” 

Smack. 

Smack. 

SMACK. 

The force from the spanks on your clit took the air out of you, leaving you gasping as your face grew hot with shame.

“Hn… we’ll have to fix that won’t we, Brat?” 

And with that Sukuna plunged three thick fingers into your messy cunt, relishing in your cries of surprise that filled the room. 

His fingers glided in effortlessly from how wet you were, vigorously pumping into you.

You whined as they reached deeper than you ever could yourself and at a more reckless pace than Yuji would ever dream to take with you. 

Sukuna was absolutely relentless. 

Staying true to his words, his fingers pulled the last remnants of Yuji’s cum out of you as you fell to pieces on his lap.

“Did I not make it clear last time who this sloppy hole belonged to Y/N?”

You could barely register Sukuna’s question. 

Your breathy moans and the ASMR sounds from his fingers tearing through your cunt as your walls sucked him in were thrumming in your ears and drowning out everything else.

Vision spotty, you could feel yourself closer to attaining release with every scraping movement of his fingers against the spongy spot within you. The little bundle of nerves going wild at his abuse and pushing you even closer to the edge.  

The tension in you pulls tight like a cord ready to snap and you curl your toes as you could nearly taste your release. 

Almost there. 

“Ah! S-s-sooo clos-see” you finally sputtered out, only focusing on getting off.

That's when Sukuna’s fingers came to an immediate halt inside you. 

“I fucking hate repeating myself Y/N. If the little whore can’t focus enough to answer me properly while I finger fuck her, I’ll simply have to stop.”

Your insides burned terribly at the loss of movement. 

Your breath was shaky. 

All you could think about was your need to cum, it wholly consumed you. 

The attempts you made to push your hips back and fuck yourself on his fingers enough to cum were thuwarted by Sukuna’s free arm locking you in place.

He had you where he wanted you.

“N-No! P-PleasePlease! My pus-syy i-it’s yourssss, Suk- Lord Sukuna!” you corrected yourself, desperately wanting him to continue.

“Hm?” Sukuna questioned. He didn’t know if you fully understood just yet who owned you. 

“Sure about that, bitch? You gonna let anyone else cum in this pussy again?”

You shook your head vigorously, splashing tears onto his thigh.

“N-No”, you huffed and sniffled quietly.

“What was that slut? Speak up.” 

His voice was harsh yet his fingers began moving again, yet this time with slow agonizing circles over your g-spot.

It was fucking maddening.

“I wont! I-I won’t let Yuji come in this pussy again, so please… PLEASE let me cum!”

You desperately begged with little control or care at what you were saying. You knew you would have said anything at this point for release and he knew it too.

He was a real bastard for actually making you say it though.

Pausing, Sukuna suddenly burst into laughter. 

It slightly puzzled you, almost as if it wasn’t directed towards you. But you had no time to consider his motivations as his fingers dug into you harder than before. 

Your eyes rolled further back into your head as all other thoughts gave way again to ecstasy. His thumb joined in now as well, teasing your puckered back entrance.

“Oh! O-ooh godddd”, you sobbed, eyes squeezing shut.

The prodding of his thumb into the rim of your ass while he finger banged your cunt was too intense. 

Not even Yuji had touched you there before. 

The feeling was foreign but you were too overstimulated at this point, you couldn’t process anything from it but pleasure.

“Yesyesyesyes!”, you sighed out like a mantra.

Sukuna could feel your walls clamping down on his fingers, letting him know you were close.

“Shit- That's it. Cream on my fingers, slutty brat.”

As if your body needed his permission, those words were what finally broke the dam inside of you. 

You came with a loud moan as your body convulsed with pleasure. You felt the first taste of the sweet release you’d been yearning for all night. Babbling nonsensically as you repeated Sukuna’s name over and over.  

Your tears, drool and squirt continue to dribble out of you as they drenched his thighs from both ends. 

Sukuna’s fingers continued to bully into you not slowing until you completely rode out your orgasm.

Your chest heaved constricted against his lap and your legs were still shaking but you knew he was far from finished with you. 

His fingers slid out of your weeping pussy with a slimy pop. 

“On your knees.” 

You heard Sukuna’s gruff order boom from above you and you quickly moved, not wanting to test his temperament as you could feel welts on your ass begin to form the spanking you received.

Your legs had been reduced to jelly so you could only slide onto the floor, careful of putting too much pressure on your bruised bottom. 

Gathering yourself, you saw how Sukuna began to manspread for you. Reclining on the bed, he was giving you a delicious view of his hard cock.

You unconsciously licked your lips at his angry red tip swaying back against his stomach and soiling his abs with precum. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but hesitate as him finally letting you cum had cleared a bit of the fog in your brain. You knew what he expected you to do, you had just never done it before. 

Well to him at least. 

Sukuna’s size was intimidating enough to make you nervous but you really didn’t know how to react right now as you weren’t used to this much foreplay with him. 

His previous visits he would show up, fuck you into a stupor and leave. You didn’t even think he had even teased you as much as he had tonight. 

Tonight was different. You weren’t sure why exactly but that thought did give you a bit of courage stirring the brat within you.

A sudden compulsion surfaced to see exactly how much he would give you and how far you could push him.

You could tell by how his engorged cock swayed impatiently that him delaying his own gratification to punish had an effect on him. 

The game you decided to play was a risky one of course, but you wanted payback for the way he treated you. 

For leaving you high and dry for days, for breaking your favorite vibrator, for making you beg to cum but mostly for turning you into such a dizzy cock-hungry bitch who still yearned for him to fuck her silly.

Your thoughts of retribution were soon interrupted as he grew impatient with you.

“Y/N put that fuckin’ bratty mouth to good use for once, bitch. If I left now, your sloppy cunt would still be unsatisfied.” Sukuna growled baring his canines.

You pouted at his cruel insult but it was mostly to suppress a small smile as he confirmed your suspicions. 

Oh he wouldn’t dare leave you now. 

Not in this state. 

And if he wanted you to give him head, you would give The King Asshole of Curses the nastiest sloppiest toppy you could muster. 

Your mind set, you wet your lips making careful eye contact with him through moist batting lashes.

You started to crawl to close the short distance separating you with a slight sway of your hips. 

Slinking up between his legs, your hands caressed his calves and skimmed up over his thighs with feather light touches. 

Your tongue lingered in his inner thigh to lap up some of your juices that soiled his lap, never breaking eye contact. 

It was faint but could have sworn you heard Sukuna suck in a breath through his teeth.

Rising to your knees, you settled yourself into him until you were pressed between his legs and his hefty cock was nestled between your tits.

“Slut…”, Sukuna breathed out feeling your soft mounds enclose his cock. 

He held a good poker face but you could tell from the slight perspiration on his brow and deeper breaths that he wanted this. 

It gave you back some of the nerve you lost feeling his immense size between your bust.

Still holding his gaze, you tossed him a sweet smile before opening your mouth and letting the large amount of saliva you gathered descend from your tongue slowly like honey onto his dick.

The wetness flowed from your mouth and was instantly cooled by air as it left your lips. This earned you a low hiss of approval from The King of Curses as it landed on his hot tip.

Not wasting time, you gathered the mixture of drool and precum that flowed onto your tits and began moving them against his massive cock, up and down slowly.

Indulging yourself, you couldn’t help but squeeze your neglected nipples and moan wantonly from wedging his thick cock between your breasts.

You meant to provoke him but you were driving yourself wild in the process wishing it was your pussy and not your tits enveloping him. 

Your mouth remained open and jaw lax all the while, allowing more of your saliva to freely spill out, still holding his gaze.

Sukuna was nearly about to snap at you for being a cockteasing whore when as if you could sense the insult forming in his mind you finally broke eye contact. Dipping your head low, you took his swollen cockhead in between your lips while your tits continued working the base. 

You swirl your tongue over the hole at his tip and lewdly slurp up more precum causing Sukuna’s hand to shoot into your hair. 

“Fuck” Sukuna let slip out.

His claws were at your roots applying a near agonizing grip. 

Despite the pain on your scalp, the action encouraged you. 

You licked, kissed and slobbered your way down the length of his cock. The obscene noises from blowing him only rivaled by the sounds coming from your cunt earlier.

Sukuna grunted. He honestly hadn’t expected this from you. 

He corrupted you in a way that had broken many others in the past but he could tell by the insolence of your stare how your eagerness was not a show of devotion, but of defiance.

His earlier punishment had only fanned your flames. 

Sukuna thought you would complain and cower away from sucking his cock like the pillow princess he knew you were with Yuji, not attack it like it was your last life line.

Fuckin’ manipulative ass brat. 

The curse king would never admit it out loud but your brattiness turned him on. 

It always had.

He would watch you from within Yuji. Your slick comments when he did something that upset you, your bratty protests when you didn’t get your way– Yuji bent to your will every single time. 

It was infuriating that he never put you in your place. 

The kid was too pussy whipped to see just how big a whore he actually had on his hands waiting to be turned out and used as a fucktoy.

Sukuna stifled a groan and resisted tilting his head back when he felt your soft fingers work their way down to cup his heavy sack. 

You fondle them lightly as you move from giving him a boob job to take him in your mouth deeper and pump the base of his length with your other hand.

He couldn’t let this go on any longer. He wouldn’t allow himself to be undone by you.

Your brattiness entertained him but his pride could never let you have the upperhand for long.

Taking control over the situation, both his hands clutched the back of your skull keeping your mouth on his cock as he stood up. 

And with a forward roll of his hips Sukuna was forcing you to take his entire length in one rough motion, gagging you on it.

You choked and your hands scrambled to push against his thighs but there was still plenty of your slick left from earlier causing you to lose your grip and lurch forward. 

The action had you taking him to the hilt, your jaw stretched beyond its limits. Your tears that pricked the corners of your eyes spilled forth. His cock filled your throat so deeply there was barely room for air.

“Now, now, Y/N.” Sukuna chided you as you flailed uselessly against him to release you. 

“You were so eager to suck on this cock a minute ago, show me how well your throat can take it too.”

Your throat in question was currently being fucked raw as your face was roughly slammed into his crotch. 

Pubic hair tickled your cheeks and your nostrils filled with the pungent scent of his arousal which combined with lack of oxygen, made you dizzy. 

You croaked out a moan as you gagged further on his dick.

The vibrations that traveled along Sukuna’s cock caused him to thrust deeper with force as he stuffed himself further down your throat.

Your jaw hurt like hell but the pain was slowly being overshadowed by your weepy cunt. Once more your pussy was flaring with jealousy as you felt phantom strokes inside you sync up with him ravaging your throat. You couldn’t help but be turned on again from Sukuna’s rough treatment.

You would have rubbed your clit if your nails hadn’t found purchase in his hips, leaving marks and long scratches as your body instinctively clawed away at him to release you from his hold.

“Take it Y/N. Swallow it all like a good little fuckdoll. Don’t spill a drop.” he snarled out the command and you could tell by how his cock thrashed against your throat he was close.

A few more spurts of his hips and he came cursing profanities into the air. His hot cum hits the back of your throat, filling you as it warms its way down into your belly. 

Waiting until your throat wrung every drop from him Sukuna finally releases you and you collapse down into the ground coughing. 

You couldn’t help but spit up some of his seed. Despite your earlier bravado you weren’t prepared to take his girth fully nor for how thick his cum would be down your throat, which was now left raw and scratchy.

“Brats like you can never follow instructions well, can they?”

You were tempted to give him the finger for nearly suffocating you on his dick but you could only scowl at him while your hands tried to soothe your throat. 

“Tch, cumming just from getting your face fucked and without permission too? You still don’t deserve me fucking you.” Sukuna mused, the grin spreading wide on his face. 

You looked up at him incredulously as his voice threatened punishment again.

“Y-You’re kidding me”, you coughed out. You couldn’t help but furrow your brow and pout. You more than earned it in your opinion.

Sukuna chuckled at your reaction. Manspread and seated once again on the bed, he pumped his cock, giving you a once over.

He had made an utter mess of you: stray strands from your disheveled hair stuck to your cheeks soiled with tears; cum dribbled down the corners of your mouth and chin with any attempts you made to wipe it away merely smearing it on your face further; your chest heaved and glistened with sweat and whatever other fluids it collected; while that disobedient pussy of yours was beginning to seep a wet spot onto the floor from where you sat. 

Just filthy.

He could deny you further, if he wished. 

Tease you further. Make you beg for him as he knew how much you hated it which made him enjoy it that much more.

But then he would also be denying himself. 

He saw how you enthusiastically rose to the challenge of giving him head and it made him impatient to see you make more of a mess of yourself on his cock, which grew harder the more he took in your sullied form.

“Y/N, if that filthy pussy of yours want to cum on my dick she’s going to have to fuck herself on it.”

The curse king moved back onto the bed to fully recline and looked at you expectantly. 

You nodded and wordlessly followed, your voice still recovering.

Sukuna had preferred to fuck you ass up with an arched back, but if this was your punishment you would gladly accept it.

You would take any position if it resulted in his cock inside of you to be honest.

Crawling over his large form to straddle him, you let your hands roam over the taunt muscles of his abs. 

Your hands traced his tattoos as you began to grind your slickness on his erection. 

It felt amazing feeling him underneath you. The thick girth of him spread your pussy lips apart as you created more friction against your clit. You quivered. It was too good.

“On with it already, pillow princess.” Sukuna smirked, giving your ass a firm slap. He wasn’t going to cum like some virgin just from you rubbing up against him.

You yelped as the action had you clenching your cheeks. Your ass was still very much sore but Sukuna would never let you have a moment to enjoy yourself unless it was on his terms. 

“Then just lay back and let me fuck you, okay?” you snapped, your brattiness getting the best of you once again but you still complied as you centered his cock over your entrance giving it a few pumps. 

You half expected him to flip you over and choke you out while drilling you into the mattress for sassing him again.However when you looked at him you saw his gaze transfixed on where your cunt was attempting to swallow him whole.

“Then just fucking do it slut”, he answered with another smack to your cheeks. 

Sukuna wouldn’t let you off this easily by provoking him. You were going to ride this dick, he would make sure of it.

You wanted to glare at him but you were too preoccupied with getting his monstrous dick inside of you and your eyes shut in concentration. Pressing yourself down onto him you only met firm resistance.

Your body was screaming at you that it wouldn’t fit even though you knew it would as it had many times in the past with him bullying it in you.

You hissed, pushing yourself down more. You hoped gravity would do its job here but you had barely gotten the head in. 

Tears were already flowing, the stretch was too intense, he was too thick. 

“Aw, am I too much for the little brat?” I thought you were going to fuck me?” Sukuna teased, feigning boredom. 

“I AM”, you whine through gritted teeth. You were so wet in addition to having been stretched from his fingers yet it was still this difficult.

Leaning more unto him for support you tried to adjust yourself but it only caused his cockhead to begin to slip out of you.

“Too damn slow”, Sukuna barked at you before firmly gripping your hips and ramming up into you. 

You let out a screech so loud you would have thought it woke your neighbors, that is if you could give a fuck to think about anything else but Sukuna ripping through you right now.

His fat blunt tip rammed against your cervix and it took all the air out of your lungs. You were left reeling, arched back as your vision blacked out momentarily. 

Trembling, you fell forward onto his tattooed chest. It was too intense, you were too full. Too much too fast of what you had been begging for all night, all at once.

Your legs trembled and your shoulders shook. 

Your walls compressed Sukuna’s length and he let out a low growl at its intensity.

“Shit bitch - did you just cum again!?” 

“S’your f-fault,” you slurred out with a sigh, wiping the drool dripping down your chin.

Pushing yourself up, you started to swivel your hips, grinding on Sukuna in a slow circular wine. 

You could feel your whole body buzzing from your orgasm. You were too sensitive, but it wasn’t nearly enough. 

You needed more of him.

You couldn’t think of anything else except for him buried inside of you. 

You leaned back to grip Sukuna’s thighs for support as you picked up your pace the more you recovered until you were bucking on him. 

The angle had you impaling yourself on him. You were putting on a show for the curse king who drank in the view of you in shambles on his cock. 

Your tits bounced wildly as your cunt greedily sucked him in and ignored the pain of the stretch which was incomparable to the amount of pleasure you are receiving. 

“That’s it Y/N. Use that filthy pussy of yours to gobble up this dick.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as more obscenities spilled forth from him. It only made you hornier and you could feel him start to move in tandem with you, his hands leaving your hips and finding their way to your breasts, pinching your nipples harshly. 

“Mmm shit, t-too good, t-ooo good” you groaned at his manhandling of you which caused you to gush around his cock creating a white ring of fluids. 

You see Sukuna grit his teeth and adjust his hips to thrust up into you deeper. Being on top and watching him underneath you, seeing the pleasure you were giving him you feel a surge of power rush through you. 

Sitting up from your reclined position, your hands ran over his that were still grasping your tits before settling on his muscular forearms to anchor yourself. 

His strokes were making your pussy flutter with pleasure, every nerve alight. 

You weren’t just playing with fire, you were dancing in it and it made you feel higher than any actual drug ever could. 

Fucking him like this was a drug. 

You would probably still hate him and yourself in the morning but right now you were his greedy little whore and you wanted him to give you even more. 

“I-I-I w-wan-t…” you started but lost focus. You were losing yourself again and you still had something you wanted before you came, one more trick up your sleeve.

“Yes? Use your words Y/N. Tell me what my lil slut wants.” He purred teasingly however the strain was evident in his voice.

You come closer to him, your chest pressed against his as continues fucks into you his fingers digging into your ass cheeks.

“Ryo..men, d-daddy.. .. you-r tongue… ki-ss me” you cooed seductively. Putting on your best babyface and looking down at him with a lustful pout wanting him to indulge you.

His eyes flashed. You truly caught him off guard with this one. 

Your legs wrapped around him tightly as he suddenly sat up and his hand was around your neck once again but he never stopped his hips driving into you.

Your eyes widened in response but they were filled with excitement. The thrill of pushing him further and the danger of it all was intoxicating. 

The air was heavy with the smell of your sweat and sex and you leaned deeper into the hand around your neck. You couldn’t help the gleeful look on your face as you shivered and stroked the arm that grasped your neck as if daring him to squeeze tighter. It was audacious.

Did you truly get off on edging death?

Sukuna was wondering something similar as the desire to actually snap your neck this time for real this time rose within him. 

You took liberties with him that he would have killed his concubines for without a second thought back in his day. But as much as he mocked, taunted and called you all manners of whore, you were no concubine. You were a sorcerer, much weaker than him of course, but a strong one nonetheless.  

One that he had either since turned into sex-crazed whore who had developed a death wish kink…

…Or one that he had severely underestimated and was far more manipulative than he gave you credit for. One who would do or say anything to provoke him into giving her what she wanted.

Truthfully you were all of those things. 

He could punish you later but Sukuna would not deny you at this moment. It was absolutely sinful how you would whore yourself to him, completely forgetting about Yuji as soon as he was in your guts. 

Loosening his grip on your neck, he grabbed your jaw harshly bringing you closer.

“Open”

You obeyed without fuss, sticking out your tongue.

He tilted your head upwards toward him and you felt his spit hit the back of your throat.

“Swallow”

The command had barely left his mouth before you were already savoring his thick saliva before you stuck out your tongue to prove you had in fact swallowed it all this time.

“Good girl.” he muttered. Sukuna’s breath was hot on your face before his mouth crashed onto yours, devouring you. 

The brutal kiss overwhelmed your already overstimulated senses. Your teeth clashed against his as mouth ravaged yours. Even his kiss was dangerous as his razor sharp canines cut your tongue and your blood flowed into his mouth. 

You felt him groan into you as he drank it eagerly, nipping and sucking on your tongue, savoring the flavor.

Completely disoriented, you didn’t realize the lack of oxygen you had until he pulled back, your blood staining his lips.

Sukuna chuckled at your dazed expression. 

His kiss left you in a stupor as you hung onto his shoulders utterly breathless.

Catching your breath, you lean in closer as your tongue slides over his lips to taste your blood on them.

“M-more w-wanna c-cum Daddy.” you mewled against his lips.

“More? Not sure if daddy’s bratty baby can handle it,” he replied mischievously. 

Sukuna’s breath fanned across your face as he captured your lips again roughly. 

He placed a hand behind you but nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of the mouth on his palm opening and tongue diving directly into your asshole.

You cried as your body instinctively pressed yourself closer to him, breaking the kiss and burrowing your face in his neck trying to keep his tongue from going deeper. However, that only gives the mouth on his stomach better access as it opens to lap at your clit as he continued to fuck into you.

“Don’t run from this slut you asked for more.” Sukuna grunted in your ear, the smirk evident in his voice.

You had asked for more but the sensations of being fucked and sucked from both ends was making you crazy. 

“Damn, so fucking tight. Gonna cum in this pussy just like this. Going to breed her, you’d like that wouldn’t you Y/N?” 

Sukuna taunted you and you felt his words travel through your ears and straight to your cunt.

His free hand came up to yank your head back for your response but you could barely keep your eyes opened and focused on him. 

“U-h Uh-huh,” You nodded as incoherent babbles were the only noises that could muster.

You had never experienced an assault on your senses this hard. Every nerve felt like it might combust as the heat within terrorized you, making you feel as if your entire body was erogenous. 

“Cum for me baby girl”, he whispers into your neck as he bit down, drawing blood again.

His words made your chest tighten and your stomach flutter, both betraying you.

Every trick you tried on him thus far had backfired on you when he returned your energy. 

Every time you toyed with him he would toy with you harder. 

You realized now you’d never win.

You didn’t know if you hated him or loved him for it. The sane part of you was locked away somewhere and all you knew now is your body was screaming to feel his seed fill you, to breed you.

You could feel his cock twitching inside of you and it proved all too much for you to handle.

Sukuna swallowed your screams of ecstasy as you came harder than ever before, toppling over your peak and jerking against him as tremors overtook your entire body. Your mind blank, you collapsed against him tapping out as your senses faded to black.

You weren't out for long but as you came to, you noticed he had placed you back on the bed, on your belly as he moved to position himself behind you.

“I’ve fucked you dumb. Just look at you, half unconscious.”

You could only grumble at him as your whole body felt drained of both your fluids and your energy. 

“Hands and Knees, Y/N” Sukuna ordered.

“5 minutes Daddy pleasssseeee” you slurred, you couldn’t possibly take any more of him, your body needed to recover you were exhausted

“Fuck no. Hands and knees slut. It's gonna take more than one load to knock that greedy cunt up.”

You groaned. Your limbs were liquified and you couldn’t manage to support yourself with your arms. 

Head rolling to one side to support yourself with your pillow you lif your ass up into the air. Your arms reached back to spread your cheeks wide for him,

Sukuna, satisfied with your position, whistled at the sight of you. “Need fuck this cum back into you and fill you up again.”

His heavy hand landed with a smack against your puffy pussy for emphasis. You whine as the slap causes your mixed fluids to spurt out of you, dribbling down your sex and onto the bed.

Sukuna’s evil laughter rang into your ears as he plows into you once more. His thrusts blessing you with the toe curling backshots you’ve learned to crave and causing you to come undone once again over his cock as he fucked you senseless over and over. “See Yuji? When I told you I could breed your bratty pillow princess into an obedient cum dump… I meant that.”

LOL! 

You like? Comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

Long A/N ahead:

Any mistakes please DM, no rude or criticizing comments please. (I literally am so busy but got up at 5am to finish this.) This is the first smut I’ve written in ages. I didn’t expect it to be so LONG my fucking god. But I actually enjoyed writing this! Especially Sukuna softening a bit towards Y/N at the end. Not really in a romantic way per se but in a “I actually enjoy your pussy presence and would likely keep you around once I'm released from your cuckass boyfriend.” kind of way. I also see it as him indulging Y/N and wanting to breed her just to piss off Yuji lmfao. He would totally knock you up out of spite. I also had fun writing Y/N here as a brat but one who doesn’t give up the fight, just finds new ways to be a brat and enjoys the punishment lmfao. (Me af) I feel like complete brat taming works well with Toji, Geto, and Choso. Sukuna on the otherhand needs a constant challenge or he will just get bored easily and kill you. You gotta tease him enough to keep him interested but he still ain’t gonna let you win. But no, even though I completely tortured and cucked Yuji here (cause he was aware this entire time), I actually really adore him. Yuji is so baby girl. I want to play with his hair and watch dumb movies on the sofa with cuddling with him and then once I get horny Sukuna can fuck my face into the cushions. OMFG SHOULD I WRITE THAT!?

What’s next?

Well my next 3 stories (in order of longest to shortest) center around lactation (Toji), van sex (Geto) and thigh job (Nanami) kinks. Which one y'all want first? ;)

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

[unforgivenn]

CHOKING IN WHUMP

I know this is like very basic in whump but its something I just CANNOT get over with.

It’s not just about the physical pain but also the mental and emotional anguish. It’s like a perfect storm of fear and helplessness, and that combination really gets me hooked.

Plus, there's something about the dynamic it creates between the whumpee and whumper. It adds layers of control and power plays, which can make the whole situation even more intense. The way it forces characters into such a vulnerable state is just sooo deliciousss.

What I love the most is the thought's that whumpee gets while being choked. When a character is choking, it’s like everything else fades away, and it’s just them and this immediate, life-or-death struggle. The thoughts are the one thing that changes the whole situation. It ramps up the tension and keeps them on edge, wondering how they’ll get out of it or if they’ll even make it.

Whumpee's breaths are ragged, each gasp a desperate plea that falls on deaf ears. The world seems to be narrowing, collapsing into a pinprick of darkness as their lungs scream for air that isn’t coming. Their mind races, a jumble of fragmented thoughts. Is this how it ends?

Whumpee can feel the pressure tightening, relentless. Their vision blurs, and they struggle to focus on anything but the suffocating grip around their throat. The room spins, and their heartbeat feels like it’s trying to break free from their chest. It’s like being trapped in a nightmare where the walls are closing in, and there’s no escape.

There’s an almost surreal clarity in this moment of terror. They think about everything They won’t get to do—no more sunrises, no more laughter, no more moments of peace. All those simple things I took for granted are slipping away, one choking gasp at a time.

Whumpee's hands claw uselessly at the constriction, nails digging into their skin, but it’s like trying to fight a storm with bare hands. Whumpee's thoughts are a blur of panic and regret, all mingled with a helpless resignation. I’m fading, losing grip on everything familiar.

The worst part? The absolute isolation. In this moment, no one can hear my silent screams. I’m utterly alone, drifting into the darkness with only the oppressive pressure as my cruel companion.

Is this it? Is this what it means to truly lose yourself? To have your life squeezed out of you, one choking breath at a time? The fear grips them like icy fingers, and whumpee can’t help but think that there’s no coming back from this.

Oh god oh god oh god Please please Im sorry im sorry

Please let my family be okay..

Finally.

So, yeah, choking in whump isn’t just about the physical act. It’s about the emotions, the stakes, and the dynamic it sets up. :))

[mins-fins]

all flights are delayed !

"i like to call myself a pretty man connoisseur.."

synopsis: your sad to say it, but you don't have much going on in your life. you have a very time consuming major, just a few friends, barely any time to go out, and spend most of your free time either a: working, or b: sleeping. so for once, when you finally have the friday off, and your dragged off to go watch a football game between a rival school of yours, you really do wish you were anywhere else. somehow though, it turns out to be one of the best things to happen to you, because a charming oreo–haired musical theater major from your rival school just happens to saunter his way into your life, you didn't expect to fall in love in your junior year, but your also not complaining!

pairing: xiao dejun x male!reader

genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers, musical theater major!xiaojun x health science major!reader, fluff, like the lightest of angst, lowkey fast burn 😖

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing(?), gay people, a little miscommunication, reader having a crisis over oreo xiaojun, probably a lot of repetitive phrases, huang guanheng is EVERYWHERE

word count: 12.8k

notes: OKAAAAAAAY hello! now in the beginning i really did enjoy writing this but after like the fourth scene its all so disgusting and jumbled up but i am also very proud of myself because this is the longest ever fic i have ever written (it is all xiao dejuns fault), actually it is ALL of nct's fault because why do i have a bunch of 8k word fics of so many nct members..😢 anyway if this seems any rushed or makes absolutely no sense at times its because im tired and i worked extra today but it doesn't really matter because constructive criticism is good (i shouldn't even publish this tbh) but there is a first for everything! enjoy!

YOU'VE NEVER BEEN A FOOTBALL FAN. now you know that might be a little of a sour opinion, especially to the men in your family, but it's just never been a sport you enjoy. it is just a little fun to watch, especially when drunk, because the sight of men in tight ass clothes running around a field chasing a ball is possibly one of the funniest things you think your drunk mind has ever seen. which is why now— in the stands, listening to the loud shouts and screams from your schoolmates, and rival scholars, you feel as if your ears have just been popped.

after all the days of working, and doing nothing but schoolwork, you were glad to have the rest of the friday off. there was nothing else you wanted to do but put on an oversized sweater, make a bowl of ramen and rewatch gossip girl for the seventy fifth time already (yes, you keep count), but no— guanheng decided he was going to drag you out of the dorm to watch stupid football game, one about "school spirit" or whatever, you weren't paying attention to him when he decided to go on his ramble, and now he's abandoned you once again! probably off to go talk to one of his 1000 other friends or something.

you almost consider leaving, but then you witness the amount of people you'd have to maneuver through, the amount of excuse me's you'd have to utter, the amount of pushing you'd endure as you tried to make your way through the crowded stands, besides, you can't leave without guanheng, your pretty much the only person responsible for keeping him alive at this point.

so you somehow suck it up and manage to stick around. your ears are practically on fire right now, and you desperately want to take off your shoes because of how they are poking you at the moment. you almost feel like your being pressed together by all the people in the stands, as if walls are slowly pushing in and crushing every single bone in your body.

"that team is doing horribly.." you mutter to yourself in an attempt to calm your crazy mind.

"i know, we suck".

at first you think you've made up the voice, because in the past hour and a half all you've heard is shouting, cheering, and loud music blasting on your ears, no one has made any attempt to talk to you since guanheng up and left you alone in the stands, so the response almost seems like muddled up words created by your brain as a response—

but it's not.

someone actually did respond to you, and in a split second there is a completely new person standing beside you, also observing the game but not looking as pleased to be there. when you do glance to your left, you come across possibly the most beautiful boy— no, person, you come across the most beautiful person you think you've ever seen in your twenty years of living, for once it feels like everything stops.

you are not the kind of person that just.. does that. now you've met tons of pretty people, you've met so many people that you could definitely say are so beautiful they could be displayed in a museum as an art exhibit, but never in your twenty years of living have you ever seen yourself go silent at the sight of a beautiful person— your brain feels like it's malfunctioning, you're not exactly sure what to say, you open your mouth but no words come out, and you almost consider punching yourself because you probably look like a complete idiot right now.

"oh? you don't go here?"

that's what you decided to say? of all things you could've said, of course he doesn't go to your school, he just implied that the other team belonged to his school, why would that be the best thing to say out of everything else?

the stranger looks up, then he laughs, and your not sure how you keep your composure. "oh no, i go to vixsith" he replies, using his thumb to point backward, though he's not pointing at anything in specific, just pointing to point. you're not sure why you pick up on that, or why you're even watching where his hands are going anyway.

"your insulting your own team?" you inquire, and he laughs even harder at your question, covering his mouth with his hand. "this is about school spirit, have faith in them" you joke, and all he does is continue laughing, crossing his arms as he tries his best to calm himself down.

"i'm being honest, the only person on that team who knows how to play is mark, he deserves better" he remarks, eyes focused on the player he just named. he then seems to have a random realization and turns to you once again. "i'm dejun by the way" he holds out his hand for you to take, and you just blink at it like an idiot, before coming back to your senses and quickly shaking his head.

"y/n".

at the sound of your name, he seems to have yet another realization. he points at you and narrows his eyes. "we have a mutual friend don't we?"

at the question, you narrow your eyes, cogs turn in your brain as you think about who he could possibly be referring to, then it comes to you—

"guanheng".

the two of you say his name in unison, and the two of you both try to stifle your laughs as the realization dawns on you. "he knows everyone i swear" you mutter, and dejun snorts, looking away from you to laugh. "even from other schools.."

"oh we go way back" dejun responds, moving his hair out of his face. "middle school actually" he adds, and your eyes widen, as if your shocked, of course guanheng has friends from way back when, why are you surprised?

you don't feel as surprised as you do lucky..

"was he still as inhumanely flexible as he is now?"

dejun laughs again, he does that a lot. "yes, yes he was".

"he talks about you a lot.. you know" dejun comments out of the blue, tucking his hair behind his ear. "he basically lives with us, and if he's not sleeping over we always assume he's with you".

"oh so that's why he always just.. appears and disappears.."

"yeah that's kind of his thing" dejun scrunches his face, looking bored by the lack of action happening on the field. "i can never find him unless he directly comes to me first" he doesn't look at you as he says those words, but you're very much staring at him the whole time.

you almost feel like a creep in a way, you want to punch yourself in the face again for continuing to stare at him. you blink a couple times before turning your face away, trying to correctly articulate your thoughts.

"both teams suck".

you only say those words because you want him to continue talking, you want to hear him talk, it's nothing that crazy, having a conversation with him is just so intriguing to you for some reason..

"well yeah— but you guys get more training so you have an advantage" he comments, narrowing his eyes at the field, arms crossed over his chest. "the guys on our team have no idea what their doing".

"do you like football?" you ask, not sure why your so interested in his answer, you just are, you have no explanation for your sudden intrigue of this charming oreo–haired boy that goes to your rival school.

your much too distracted by how gorgeous he is to worry about giving yourself an explanation.

dejun laughs again, shaking his head. "not really, my dad does, so i just know things because of all his screaming and shouting" he replies, arms still crossed over his chest. "i'm not really a sports person, i do musical theater for pete's sake".

"oh so you sing?" you don't mean to ask another question, you're worried that you might be bothering dejun with your constant inquiries, but he actually seems glad, excited that someone is asking him about his major.

"well yeah" he responds, his smile growing. "all things theater, i write the songs, i act the parts, i play instruments, sometimes i even take offstage roles instead of my usual onstage ones".

he fiddles with his fingers, picking his nails. you assume, from his mannerisms, that he doesn't know what to say because most people don't really ask him about his major, or what he does, it's like he's elated that you even asked him.

"what about you?" dejun instead asks, veering away from the topic of his major and instead making yours the main topic of discussion. "what do you do?"

"health science" you say the words as if it pains you to, like it's the single most uninteresting thing you've said this whole interaction. "i know, it's boring".

dejun laughs again; "no no! i didn't say that!" he waves his hands in a disagreeing manner as he chuckles at your words. "i just don't meet a lot of people interested in pursuing science.."

"it's more of the health aspect than science actually" you mutter, and dejun just looks even more interested in what you have to say now. "but science is a big part of it so.."

"you must be very smart then" dejun remarks, smiling as the two of you make eye contact.

"i'm alright" you just say, finally pulling down your formerly rolled up sweater sleeves now that the air outside has begun cooling down. you only lightly shiver, and you glance back at dejun one more time..

"where do you think guanheng is?" he asks, clearing his throat as he scours the still full and lively bleachers, searching for your friend. "off doing whatever he does.."

you're currently very distracted, and you don't even realize what's going on when you snap out of whatever daze you were having and everyone is suddenly standing up and cheering like there's no tomorrow.

dejun looks over at you, and he can clearly see how confused you are because he laughs for one last time. "you guys won!" he somehow manages his voice over the roar of the crowd. "congrats!"

he's yelling, but he's not exactly loud, he still manages to sound so gentle whilst yelling at you.

"thanks!" you blurt out as a reply, and you feel like a complete idiot for that, but dejun smiles, so you don't feel all that embarrassed.

the game is over, and people are going to start to leave soon. dejun looks back, spotting a group he recognizes, then he looks over at you, a smile on his face. "i've gotta go now" he says, almost disappointed in a sense. "it was nice meeting you y/n!"

you nod, not knowing what to say. "yeah! you too!"

you too? you too?? is that what you say y/n!?

dejun gives one more beautiful smile before heading off, and you blink, having absolutely no idea what just transpired in those few minutes.

holy shit i forgot to ask—

but you couldn't— because he was gone, gone in such a flash you couldn't even spot his oreo hair in the crowd.

YOU FORGOT TO ASK FOR HIS NUMBER. YOU FEEL SO STUPID, your not even sure why you wanted to ask him that, but in the back of your mind that was the question you were preparing yourself to ask from the moment he told you his name, that he was friends with guanheng, the moment the two of you began laughing about your majors and stuff like that. the whole interaction with a pretty oreo–haired musical theater major at a football game is all that you were thinking about last night, as you tried to find pretty much anything else to think about as you struggled to sleep.

how did you forget to ask him for his number? you want to smash your face into your computer screen because of how stupid you are. you said "you too!" like a fucking idiot, but maybe you were just too distracted, he was smiling at you with that beautiful smile and staring at you with his absolutely gorgeous fucking eyes, how could you even think coherently whilst a beautiful man (from a whole other school but who cares?) was staring at you with his pretty brown eyes like you were the only person in the world?

okay your pushing it now..

but there is just something, something about him that drew you in, your not sure why you were so adamant on getting to know him, but he was just so— you can't explain it right now! you are currently very sleep deprived and also moody because of your disappearing roommate that always decides to appear at the worst times.

you don't remember the last time you ever got an actual eight hours of sleep, these days that seems like a dream more than a reality, but guangheng is just never tired. he's somehow always up, doing something, hanging out with people, he never sits down in once place and just stays still.

when he walks into the room, hands on his hips and gaze immediately focused on you, you barely bat an eye at him, just spare him a quick glance, noticing how pissed off he looks. you scour your mind for an explanation as to why he must be mad now, probably something someone said, or he got into yet another argument with one of his classmates, your not even sure anymore, you don't know where he is half the time.

"could you do me a favor?"

you almost laugh out loud, not at him, but at the idea that he wanted you to do him a favor. at this point, he probably owes you thousands of favors considering how many you do for him, but he seems upset, and you don't have any of that pettiness leftover to ignore him, so you move your eyes to look over at him.

"why should i?"

okay— you lied, your still just a little petty, but you totally have every right to be! guanheng deserves just some sass from you after disappearing each and every time he decides to take you out somewhere.

guanheng blinks, then he pulls out the signature guanheng frown, a sad stupid frown he always makes when he wants to persuade you into doing something. you're not sure how you've even ever fallen for that signature frown, maybe it's because he's just so great at looking sad, at looking upset, he somehow always manages to make you feel bad for him, and therefore, end up doing the favor for him.

"because i'm your best friend, your roommate, and you love me so much" guanheng smiles wide, like he just found out he won the lottery, and clasps his hands together as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

"i don't know.." you mumble, looking back at your computer screen. it's a saturday, you have no classes saturday, you can just sit down, relax, be the absolute lazy motherfucker you were put on this earth to be. "i don't feel like going out today".

guanheng huffs, crossing his arms. "one last favor! just one! then i'll get off your back!"

"your horrible at following your promises, heng" you comment absentmindedly, your tone is much meaner than you intended, and guanheng's gasp is enough to tell you that he indeed takes offense to those words. "what? i'm not lying".

"y/n!" oh great, he's whining now. "i will get you anything i can, anything! just this one favor! please?"

your about to say no again— but then it's like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you get a spectacular idea. anything? he did say anything, and he can give you something you want.

the number of a pretty boy preferably!

you let out a sigh, and guanheng knows what that sigh means, it means you agree. "fine, i'll do you this favor, but this is the last one".

guanheng's smile brightens, and he cheers like a kid that just got the best christmas present one can receive. "thank you! thank you! thank you! i love you!" he kisses your cheek, and skips off to another room.

"get your jacket!" he shouts, already rooms away from you, so he has to shout.

"what?"

"get your jacket! were leaving!"

you furrow your eyebrows at his words, but you don't say anymore, because you did agree to do this favor for him after all.

so, without questioning it more, you get up and go grab your jacket.

"SO WHEN YOU SAID A FAVOR..?" you don't continue on with your sentence, pausing to let out a breath as you shove your hands into the pockets of your jackets. guanheng looks over at you, and he just chuckles at the unreadable expression on your face. when you agreed to do this favor for him, you didn't know it included leaving your dorm and having to be dragged out to yet another unfamiliar place. "did you forget to mention the fact that we'd have to leave the school?" you finally finish, eyes focused and narrowed on your friend, who again, smiles at you with that signature guanheng smile.

"it's a saturday, most of us don't have classes anyway, they won't question it".

"is that supposed to make me feel better?" you ask to yourself more than to guanheng, but he hears you anyway, and that results in a snicker from him. despite that, he doesn't respond to your silent question, making you frown just the slightest.

"stop pouting".

"i'm not pouting" your quick to rebut, rolling your eyes at his words. you almost bump into him when he suddenly stops, and your about to yell at him again for being stupid when he places a finger on your mouth.

he knocks on the door in front of him, not paying attention to the burning glare your currently sending him.

"i'll bite off your finger" you threaten, moving forward and pretending your about to do that. guanheng squeaks and quickly moves his fingers away from your lips, a flash of true fear in his eyes. all you do is give him a menacing and totally not threatening smile.

"psycho.." he whispers, he looks like he's about to say more, but the door opens, so he closes his mouth and turns around.

"come on!"

he grabs your wrist and drags you into the dorm, and you felt your heart rate increase. maybe he knew these people, but you sure didn't! what if they thought you were weird? you want to pull him back and tell him that he shouldn't just drag you into some strangers dorm, but he is much too distracted to even notice your uneasiness.

"i've returned!" guanheng yells, letting go of your hand to place his hands on his hips, as if he was proud of himself.

"can you slam the door on him!?"

"ten! come to me!"

before you can ask him what the hell is going on, he sprints down the hallway, you assume to go after this ten person, you just blink, shoving your hands into your pockets as you begin to rock back and forth on your heels.

"hello stranger!" an unfamiliar voice exclaims, you look up and come face to face with a pink–haired boy with a bright smile.

"hello" you reply politely. "i like your hair" you immediately remark, pointing at his hair like an idiot because you don't want to touch it and make him uncomfortable.

his face lights up, as if you were a millionaire that just gifted him a life changing amount of money. it was as if no one ever told him that his hair was pretty before, or that they liked it. he jumps up and squeals, excited. "thank you! ten said it was stupid!"

you furrow your eyebrows, then chuckle. "what? no it's very pretty, pink suits you!"

"hah! i told you guanheng! pink does suit me!" he yells down the hall, and you can hear the small shout of rebuttal that guanheng responds with from all the way down the hall. "thanks! only a few people actually noticed that i dyed my hair".

you laugh again, okay he is very funny, you like him!

"oh! i'm yangyang! the nicest person who lives here!" he introduces himself in the same fashion a reality tv star would, and quickly grabs your hand to shake it. you don't complain, just laugh again as he vigorously shakes your hand.

"y/n, it's nice to meet you".

he gasps, recognizing your name. "oh you're the famous y/n! guanheng always talks about you, for a long time i was convinced he was in love with you!"

"why are you tarnishing my brand!?" guanheng shouts again, sounding even more pissed off than he did before. "huh!? liu yangyang!?"

yangyang shakes his head, ignoring guanheng's loud shouts and flapping his hand, mocking him. you laugh as you watch him mock the other, who has absolutely no idea what he's doing right now.

"you have a project to do!" another unfamiliar voice shouts.

yangyang gasps again, suddenly looking stressed. "fuck yeah— um!" he turns around and reaches over to grab his laptop, then he turns back to you and gives you a smile.

"yeah, my apologies" you just wave it off, urging him to keep going. "um i'm doing a project where i have to interview people on their majors.. trust me i don't know either, but! i've interviewed like the whole school already, and i need one more person.."

"and that person is me?" you ask, but you already know the answer to that question, yangyang nods, much more quickly than he seemed to intend to.

"yes!" he exclaims, but then he clears his throat. "but only if you want to, i don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do—"

"no no no it's fine!" you cut into his sentence, shaking your head. yangyang, again, looks elated that you agreed.

okay so this was the favor guanheng wanted you to for him! (not for him necessarily— but his friend). he could've just told you about this straight up instead of being vague about it, it wasn't even that burdening of a favor, not like the other ones you've done for him.

"guanheng! why don't you bring him around more often? he's better than you are!" yangyang yells again, probably for the nth time that hour.

guanheng doesn't answer, but you knows he's pouting, you can just sense it at this point, you call it your "roommate instincts".

"oh hi y/n".

now that's a voice you recognize, and you almost don't believe your eyes when the one person that kept you up all night walks into the room and smiles as he sees your figure. "dejun, hi" you smile back at him, hoping you don't sound as awkward as you feel.

dejun looks so so pretty, as he always does. he fiddles with the necklace hanging around his neck, his eyes lingering on you for an unspecified amount of time.

"ten hit me with his shoe" guanheng suddenly storms into the room, arms crossed over his chest. "asshole.." he mutters under his breath, huffing like some sort of baby.

dejun then laughs, covering his mouth with his hand, and that causes you to laugh, turning your head to the side as to not make it obvious.

guanheng exchanges glances between the both of you, a prominent glare in his eyes, but then the look in his eyes changes, and he points at the two of you. "you two have met?" he asks.

dejun pauses, still humored by the previous words said by guanheng, and your brain almost malfunctions once again. "i— um" great, you just sound so natural and not awkward.

"we met at the game" dejun immediately says, saving you the awkwardness of having to collect your words in your brain. you thank whatever god or deity up there for dejun's quick response, and he just flashes you that familiar pretty smile. "yesterday, you know, while you were off doing who knows what.."

guanheng gasps, looking at dejun like he'd just cursed his entire bloodline. "you— your just such a bitch! you know!?"

"ow! don't punch me! i'm fragile!"

guanheng lands one more punch on his shoulder, and it gets one more squeak out of dejun, who jumps once again. "i don't care, your horrible".

yangyang blinks, probably already used to their little quarrels. he then turns to you, just shaking his head as they continue to whisper–argue. "so, what do you major in?"

it's almost like you totally forgot, his project, the thing that guanheng dragged you here to help him with. "health sciences, i take courses in everything related to healthcare and like— half actual science courses?"

"so your looking to work in healthcare?"

"yeah basically, i've already taken courses in emergency service's, becoming a paramedic is my top option!"

yangyang gasps at your words, he looks over at guanheng, then quickly back at you. "are you single?" he asks, again with the same quickness.

dejun snorts, hitting guanheng as begins laughing hard. guanheng scrunches his nose, staring at yangyang like he's crazy. "what kind of question is that!?"

"what? that is a totally valid question to ask!" he exclaims, crossing his arms. "it's for my project! clearly!" he lies.

"your— oh my god, unbelievable".

"so are you?" yangyang asks again, looking at you with suspenseful eyes. he is very much interested in your answer it seems.

your finally finished with your laughing fit, and nod, still very amused. "yes i am, i'm single".

"good, this is very important information".

yangyang gives you a giddy look, and dejun just continues to laugh.

you're not sure why your so focused on him though..

YOU AGAIN, HAVE NO LUCK SLEEPING that night, and after the first hour and a half of tossing and turning, you gave up on trying to chase slumber you knew you wouldn't be able to catch. you assumed that the longer you stared at your computer screen, the quicker you'd get tired and the quicker your eyes would become heavier, but no! it's now almost two in the morning and you still aren't sleepy in the tiniest bit, you didn't know insomnia got this bad, if you knew this prior to coming back to school this year, you would've bought more of those sleeping pills. you lean your chin onto your hand as your computer continues playing audio from a random episode of brooklyn nine–nine.

the millions of thoughts rampant in your mind were probably distracting you, rendering it impossible to sleep, and also rendering it impossible to focus, seeing as your just looking around your room, which is pretty much boring you considering all you've been doing for the past thirty minutes is looking around your own room.

you think your gonna bore yourself to death, you pretty much prepare to stay up for the next five hours until your alarm rings and startles you out of your daze (which has happened way too many times for your comfort), but then your phone rings.

it's almost two in the morning, who exactly is calling you at this time? who knows that you're awake at 1:56 in the morning and decided to call you? they probably knew you'd pick up..

and you know who it is— it's so obvious.

dejun.

you don't mean to pick up your ringing phone as fast as you do, you want to punch yourself in the face for how desperate you seem, and you almost don't answer the phone because you feel so embarrassed. "hello?"

"hi!" dejun sounds way too joyous for someone who is sleep deprived, and up at 1:57 am. "sorry? was that too loud?"

"no no your fine" you reply, even though the speaker is on, guanheng can quite literally sleep through anything, there was one time the fire alarm was going off for a good ten minutes and he didn't even budge. "guanheng is a pretty heavy sleeper".

"he's lucky, i can't sleep" the sound of shuffling on the other line resonates in your ears, and dejun huffs, sounding frustrated. "you were the only person i assumed would be awake".

you snicker. "why is that?" you inquire, he was right, of course, but you just wanted to hear his reasoning, and also wanted him to keep talking.

you really like dejun's voice for some reason, it just scratches the right part of your brain. in these past two days you realized that you like a lot of things about dejun, many more things than you thought you might.

"your major has the word 'science' in it so i just assumed the amount of sleep you get is slim to none".

now that gets another laugh out of you, you laugh much more than you intend to, but also— it's dejun, and you can't resist the loud laugh that escapes your lips.

oh your such a desperate little bitch—

"well you'd be correct" you respond, humming as you pick at your nails. "at this point sleeping is beginning to make me tired".

there's a long pause, and your worried you made everything more awkward, because you don't hear anything from the other line. for a moment, you're almost convinced dejun hung up on you, but before you can speak he beats you to it.

"i can keep you company until you get tired" he immediately suggests, and you almost choke on your spit when he says that. "i don't mind".

you go silent, feeling as if all logical thoughts in your mind have suddenly disappeared into the air. you might sound like a complete loser right now but that was just so sweet of him to suggest, you smile much too wide for your own comfort, but you don't even think about that, because your just so charmed by the words.

"you are.." you pause, clasping your hands together as you think about what words to say next. "yeah yeah, that's fine" you finally continue, your new words having no connection to the previous ones you previously said, you just hope dejun doesn't notice.

"good! it would've been awkward if you said no" dejun giggles, and you just can't get over how cute he sounds. "plus, i wouldn't want you to be tired in the morning, lord knows how much you do in a day.."

you feel an unfamiliar fluttering feeling in your stomach, because he is so considerate? he wants to help you, he's just being so nice to you at.. two! two in the morning! you bite down on your bottom lip, hoping it doesn't bleed from how hard your tooth drives into it.

"aww, you care about me that much?" you ask, just wanting to hear him talk again. you feel like a teenage girl giggling and kicking her feet over a high school crush, except you can't kick your feet and giggle because then dejun would know.

"okay, be quiet, don't make me hang up".

"okay okay don't do that!" you say, totally meaning to sound as desperate as possible this time. "if your not here i won't ever fall asleep".

you hear something similar to a squeal on the other line, as if dejun had heard your words and just freaked out.

the realization honestly boosted your ego.

"you— you suck!"

"you offered to help me jun, don't get like this now!"

you're not sure how long it goes on for, but you swear you two laugh all night while on the phone.

"SO WHOSE THE GUY?" the question is asked so abruptly that at first, you assume you heard your friend wrong. when you look up, he stares at you with that deadpanned gaze, and that's when you realize he's completely serious. you chuckle at the realization that your friend is sure that your in love with someone (well you are— your just surprised that he figured out so quickly). "what guy? there's a guy?" you tilt your head, acting as if you have no idea what he could possibly be talking about. you giggle as you watch him slowly get even more irritated by your answer.

"you always come in here looking a little less miserable each day" chenle observes, leaning forward as he narrows his eyes at you. "someone is making you excited to live life?"

"do i always come in here looking miserable?" you ask, completely diverting your attention from chenle's previously asked question, which makes him pout.

"yep!" renjun exclaims, sitting beside you, he crosses his legs in his chair and presses his lips into a thin line. "so! who is he?"

the two seem way too excited to know about your never talked about before crush on dejun. now— you didn't know it was so obvious that you were now smitten for this new guy, you're usually the friend that's known from straying the furthest away from love, you don't remember any people you've legitimately liked that weren't elementary school crushes..

so yeah, your friends totally had every right to be surprised, because your absolutely smitten for a man and they just want to know who this man that is making you so happy is!

you hate that you give in so easily. "he's one of guanheng's friends.." you mutter, picking at your nails, looking down to make sure you don't witness renjun and chenle's reactions with your own two eyes.

renjun gasps, sounding like those ladies at the hair salons that just heard the juiciest gossip. "ooh! who? does he go here? do we know him? is he pretty?"

chenle looks over at renjun like he's crazy, that familiar judging stare in his eyes as he watches renjun lean closer to you with a totally not creepy smile on his face. "don't you think your acting a little too interested in this?"

"i just want to know!" renjun shouts, playfully glaring at the younger. he then turns back to you, and you assume his cheeks must be hurting from how hard he seems to be smiling. "tell me please?"

"he's— he's just your run of the mill pretty guy who is nice, and smart, and absolutely adorable who tells horrible jokes that still end up being funny in some way and he has a pretty laugh and i just love his voice, and talking to him, and, i can't even explain it because it'll sound stupid!"

"you sound like a psycho" chenle immediately says, laughing at you like you just confessed to an atrocious crime against humanity. you sink into your chair, slumping towards the side.

"aww! the pessimistic y/n is in love!" renjun squeals, again, like those women at the hair salon who just heard the juiciest gossip. he grabs your arm and shakes you vigorously, causing you to get dizzy in the slightest bit. "i can't believe i've lived to see this day!" he shouts, continuing to shake you as you can't properly get out your cries for help.

"renjun you're gonna kill him" chenle pinches the older in the arm, making him yelp and jump, he giggles as he witnesses the glare the older male sends him, his crushing grip remains around your arm, but you don't even mention at this point, because at least he's not shaking you anymore.

"sorry" he remarks, definitely not sorry as he squeezes your arm once again, beginning to get overly excited. "it's just.. exciting you know?"

"it's exciting that i'm in love with someone?" you raise an eyebrow, and though you expect renjun to respond, chenle quickly does.

"yep! you'll finally be gone!"

his cheer results in a gasp of offense from you, and all chenle does is giggle in victory.

THE ONE THING YOU'VE LEARNED FROM THE now excessive amounts of times you've hung around guanheng's other friends is that they're loud, they are all really loud (even sicheng! who, for a good majority of the time, is always quietly staring at his friends with clear concern in his eyes), even if they don't mean to, they're somehow always either yelling, shouting, or making some sort of scene. they're all just naturally hilarious, like comedians that don't realize they're comedians because they're just being themselves. in the past few weeks, it's like you spend more time with these people that don't go to your school in comparison to people that actually go to your school and that you can see easily.

but if you're being honest, you don't really mind that your spending all your free time with them, because they are indeed very fun to be around (and you get to see dejun much more regularly, which is something you rather enjoy), and because life would be insanely boring if guanheng didn't decide to drag you out of the dorm every other day to go do stupid things with his friends that go to a whole other school.

"you are such a cheater! i won fair and square!"

"you did not! your the cheater! sicheng is my witness!"

sicheng, who was not listening to anything either ten or yangyang had to say, looked over at the younger with a look of concern washed over his features. he blinks as he's suddenly put on the spot, smiling nervously as the youngest stares intensely at him, waiting for his answer. "uh.. i— i don't know".

his delivery makes you burst out laughing, and you cover your mouth with your hand as to not make yourself look like an absolute fool. you don't even realize that you picked up on one of dejun's habits, you might be spending too much time around him..

actually, forget that! there is no such thing as spending too much time around dejun, and that might make you sound like a "simp" but you don't care.

you've fallen, and you've fallen hard.

"okay.." guanheng presses his lips into a thin line, ignoring the way ten and yangyang now begin discussing the logistics of cheating in card games, unfortunately dragging poor sicheng into their argument. he turns to dejun and scoots closer to him. "can you do me a favor?"

dejun groans, playfully rolling his eyes. you assume he's done as much favors for guanheng as you have, and you barely stifle the snicker that dares to escape your lips.

dejun hears the sound, and smacks your arm hard, making you jump. he only gives you a teasing smile before turning to guanheng, having to give him a response.

"at what lengths do i have to go for this favor?"

guanheng scoffs, crossing his arms. "it's nothing insane or anything, i just want you to get me something.."

"and you can't get it yourself because..?"

"i have no money on me" and there goes that signature guanheng frown, dejun opens his mouth to argue but then he shuts it so quickly it seems like he just got out in some sort of trance.

"fine fine" dejun rolls his eyes once again, surrendering much too quickly. "you owe me though—"

"take y/n with you".

there's a pause, both you and dejun go very silent for a moment. whilst dejun is just confused, you absolutely know what guanheng is doing, and you have to use every bit of patience in your body to restrain yourself instead of jumping over the table and tackling him right then and there.

dejun is clearly clueless, though, because he just raises an eyebrow. "why?" he inquires, somehow sounding so sweet even though his question is asked with so much confusion.

"y/n knows what i want".

what a smooth lie, dejun glances over at you, and you just shrug, having no idea what more to say. "he needs to take a walk anyway" guanheng lies again, wow, two in a row! he's on a roll.

"okay..?"

so that's how you find yourself on a walk with the person that you are very much in love with, a somehow comfortable silence spread between the two of you as dejun hums an unfamiliar tune to himself, hands in his pockets, eyes closed as he slowly sways back and forth.

he looks very peaceful, just doing what he does, being effortlessly pretty as he does so, and you observe his behavior, almost entranced by it in a sense.

you only stop when he speaks up—

"do you think they're still arguing?" he suddenly asks, and you snap out of whatever daze you were having, praying that he totally didn't notice you admiring him like a creep. "or are they just.. conversing calmly now?"

you don't want to seem like even much more of a weirdo, but you feel like he asked that question just as an excuse to talk to you, and maybe your thinking too much into it, but you've definitely done that before, so you know what it looks like.

"i hope they aren't still arguing" you answer, and dejun looks up at you, smiling. "that'd be a long ass time to argue".

"well they like arguing just to argue" dejun replies, fiddling with his necklace. "but they're harmless.. for the most part".

his delivery makes you laugh, and you look down at your shoes. "you're a very calm person, you know, the opposite of guanheng".

the sudden statement from dejun makes you look up at him once again, and this time, he's staring directly at you, as if he had been waiting to make eye contact with you the whole time. "calm?"

"well compared to my roommates you are" he giggles, and maybe he doesn't mean to, but he stares at so intensely that your legs feel shaky.

"who knows? maybe i'm a fraud" you tease, purposefully leaning closer to him so your words have an effect. dejun's eyes widen, and he lightly leans away from you, looking speechless. "you'd never know, though".

you don't know how you suddenly got so bold, or why you were so amused at the sight of dejun freaking out, you feel like some sort of genius for what you just did, and you snicker at yourself before leaning back.

dejun takes in a deep breath, looking like he's trying to fix himself. he clears his throat and stumbles through his next words. "i— uh.. you're such an idiot!" he decides to say, crossing his arms over his chest.

your not sure how the two of you became so casual in this amount of time, a few weeks ago, dejun wasn't such a regular figure in your life, and you were just any other college student doing their best to get by, not thinking about falling in love with a gorgeous oreo–haired man—

but you're also not complaining.

you aren't sure how you got so lucky, how it just happened that you could continue to spend time with the cute boy you met at a stupid football game simply because the two of you shared mutual friends, it's one of times guanheng's actually done you a favor, without even realizing it too!

"okay i'm sorry" you giggle, shoving your hands into your pockets, you once again begin taking from dejun's habits and sway back and forth. "seriously!"

"you're unbelievable" dejun exaggerates, rolling his eyes, but it wasn't serious, and you knew it wasn't serious. "but i meant what i said, your calm".

you raise an eyebrow at him, wanting to know more about the observations he has about you. "could you elaborate on that?" you don't mean to laugh, but you do, and it causes dejun to laugh too.

"you just.. seem content with what you have" he explains, but he doesn't explain it enough, so he continues. "like someone could get you a piece of paper as a birthday gift and you'd be pleased".

you laugh, hard, because he somehow managed to get you spot on. you almost feel like he is reading your mind, because he nailed you down with each word. "really? i guess i am like that".

"ah, so my prediction was right then!"

you laugh at how glad he is. "yeah, i am truly not that hard to please, gifts are gifts and if someone gets one for me, there's no use in being mad if the gift isn't something i like, at least they remembered to get me something!"

dejun stares at you for a specifically long time, looking you up and down. he stares at you with warm eyes, a gaze that seems so near and dear to his heart, a gaze so loving that it looked like he was about to get down on one knee and propose to you.

"i like any and all gifts" you continue.

"are there any specific kinds of gifts you like?"

dejun asks that question in a tone that makes it seem like he's totally not trying to sound suspicious, but he is totally asking you that question for a very specific reason.

guanheng must've told him something..

at least, that's what you assume, but dejun is patiently waiting for your answer, and you can't daydream the whole time about the true meaning of his words.

"i like books, plushies, music tapes, vinyl's, you know.. regular gifts that people like receiving".

dejun hums, as if he's noting down the information you're telling him in his mind, still, you don't say anything about his mannerisms, just keep it to yourself.

"are you noting down my reply?"

"i'm just keeping it in mind!" he says, smiling brightly at you. "just in case your special occasion comes up and i don't know what to get you".

oh! so guanheng definitely did tell him something..

"i mean— were friends! any gift from you will be a good gift".

at the word friends, dejun seems to pause, cogs in his brains turning as he tries to process your words. you don't understand why he would be trying to understand your words, because the two of you were clearly friends, did he think you two were something else?

you see the flash of disappointment on his face, but it quickly reverts back to a smile and he simply acts like nothing happened. "sorry, the word 'friends' just caught me off guard".

a lie..

how interesting.

"seriously though, i just want to get you a gift you'll appreciate forever".

but you're already enough for me— do you know how much you've changed my life?

your own thoughts manage to surprise you, because the words that you just told yourself in your own mind startle you enough that you make a judging face at yourself. luckily, dejun is turned away from you, so he doesn't notice.

"well that's thoughtful of you".

"i try my best.." he responds, finally looking back at you with that same loving stare, one that wants to lure you in and make you trip on your own feet.

for some reason, the two of you stop. there's an uncharacteristically long pause, like the world just decided to cease for a moment, and you both are completely stuck in place, just there, staring at each other.

dejun's eyes move, as if scanning your face like a camera, and they (of course) stop at your lips. he stares at them for what seems like forever, and it almost looks like he's restraining himself, but by the way he bites his bottom lip, it's clear—

he wants to kiss you.

and maybe there's a small voice at the back of his head that tells him to cut it out, because he almost immediately snaps out of whatever daze he was having, and clears his throat, his cheeks going a bright red.

"uh— sorry, yeah, um, we should get going" he says, shaking his head as he pulls his sleeves down.

"guanheng will yell at us if we're late".

okay, so he just decides to not talk about it? you want to ask him why he didn't just do it, because he clearly wanted to, but before you can even open your mouth, or get any words out, he grabs your hand and the two of you continue walking back to the group.

he doesn't say anything more, doesn't try to make anymore small talk, and while you do want to bring up what just happened there, you don't.

you just bask in the feeling of dejun's hands intertwined with your own.

it's a good feeling, you decide.

THAT MOMENT IS STUCK ON YOUR MIND for what seems like years. you can't get over it! how he was looking at you, how he clearly wanted to kiss you, but for some reason, decided to stop himself from doing so. you're not sure why you didn't just tell him that it was okay, that you would be completely fine with him kissing you, but you guess that you're just a complete idiot as well, because you just stayed silent throughout the whole thing, the two of you equally deciding in silence to not bring it up, just sitting next to each other in awkwardly for the rest of the night.

and yeah, it's become normal for dejun to constantly run through your mind these days, it's like he has his own subsection in your mind, dedicated to thoughts about him and him only, but it's like he's just become rampant in there ever since that.. thing he did (or should you say, didn't do, considering he decided to not kiss you when the opportunity was right there), maybe you should've pulled him in, maybe you should've (for once) been impulsive and done the first thing put to your mind.

and this crawls through your mind for days, then those days become a good week and a half. now— you and dejun aren't not talking or anything, it was just sort of difficult to look at him without thinking about that.

you're so into your thoughts these days, that you are much more spacey during your classes, at home, and somehow, guanheng picks up on your weird turn, which is crazy, because guanheng was the last person you expected to notice something like that, he usually never notices most things in front of him anyway.

"okay, what the fuck happened?" he decides to randomly drop it on you when he seems to have had enough, which is funny, because he's technically the person that started the whole thing.

you look up from your phone, blinking at him like he just said something out of this world. "hm?" he scoffs at your lack of a response, shoving your shoulder, which results in a glare from you.

"what happened?" he asks again, this time without the extra swear word, he makes himself comfortable on the other side of the couch. "you are acting weird" he points at you accusingly, like you'd just been accused of a crime and he was trying to figure out if you were truly suspicious.

"i don't know what your talking about.."

"stop stalling!" he complains, grabbing your arm and beginning to shake you back and forth. "tell me! you can't keep acting weird and just not tell me what's wrong".

now you want to tell him, but in your mind it sounds so stupid that you feel like guanheng would laugh at you the moment you uttered the first few words of your sentence. "you're going to laugh".

guanheng gasps, offended by your response, though it is true, he just wants to be dramatic. "i won't! i'm concerned! i'm being a good roommate and asking you what's wrong!"

so, you roll your eyes, taking a deep breath. "okay so hypothetically.." you begin, because you have no other idea how to start your sentence.

hypothetically just means = it was indeed not hypothetical!

"hypothetically, uh huh.." guanheng hums, understanding the true meaning your words have. "okay sorry, continue".

"let's just say that, hypothetically, i am totally in love with one of your best friends, and that friend totally wanted to kiss me but then chickened out last minute and like an idiot i didn't say anything and i have no idea how to go about it".

guanheng's eyes widen at your words, and his jaw almost drops. "hypothetically though" you add to the end of your sentence after a long pause.

"right right! hypothetically.." he nods, though he can't contain his look of excitement at the words. "and you didn't kiss him back!?"

you're almost knocked off the chair from how intense his yell is. you groan and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed and ashamed. "i didn't know how to bring it up and not be awkward!"

"just say 'hey dejun you could totally kiss me and it'd be fine because we are both mortifyingly in love with each other'!" guanheng shouts, louder than his previous words. he's always so straight up, and you almost wish you didn't tell him anything. "it's that easy!"

"it is not!" you shout in rebuttal, crossing your arms and frowning. your acting like guanheng at this point, but that's not what you're noticing at this very moment. "it's easy for you! you date people and you kiss people all the time! i don't do that!"

"excuses excuses!"

you're at a loss for words at his lackluster words, you once again, frown and turn away from him. "i'm sorry! i have never been hardcore in love with someone like this before! i don't know how to talk about it!"

guanheng looks like he's about to yell again, but he takes a deep breath and relaxes himself, leaning back in the couch. "okay, i'm sorry for yelling.."

"y/n, you really just need to tell him how you feel straight up, because if you keep stalling than none of you will end up confessing in the end and you'll both just be going through a loop of 'should we or should we not?'"

you blink, staring at guanheng for a good few minutes, honestly surprised. this is probably the best advice he's ever given you, usually, you’re the one that has to give him advice because he always ends up doing something stupid and has someone that wants to murder him because of that stupid thing he did.

"that was actually.. good advice" you reply, laughing at guanheng's eye roll. he just shoves you, making sure he does extra hard this time to get his point across.

"shut up! i always give good advice!"

"you usually don't give any advice at all.." you mutter, running a hand through your hair as you look away from your roommate, who just glares at you like you just committed a federal offense.

"say something again and i'm gatekeeping dejun from you!"

"your what!?"

at the sound of your shout, guanheng giggles as he scurries away, proud of himself for the words that escape his lips.

YOU'RE NOT SURE HOW YOU SOMEHOW LET guanheng drag you off to a party on a friday night where all you wanted to do is relax. parties have never truly been your thing, but that's because being surrounded by a bunch of drunk and high adults just isn't your idea of fun, you're also just not a big drinker, so the only reason you usually even end up at parties is to take guanheng home when he gets too drunk and can't fully articulate his thoughts. so, the fact that guanheng was somehow able to convince you to get out of the house and go to a party when you truly should've been at home, watching horrible sitcoms.

but no, you're here! and you can't leave without guanheng because if you did, he'd probably find a way to end up killing himself, or he'd say the wrong thing to the wrong person and would end up getting punched in the face.

so you find yourself in a familiar spot, your back against a wall as you stare at your phone, somehow able to ignore the hundreds of screaming drunk people that surround you, it's become a skill of yours, and you're not sure how exactly it developed, you've just become such a natural when it comes to ignoring others.

guanheng, of course, has already walked off to do his own thing, but not before reminding you of the advice he'd given you a few days prior, yelling at you to 'just tell the boy you like him!'

maybe his advice is burned into your brain, because now all you wish is that you were with dejun, talking about something stupid, or just talking.

and there must've been somebody listening in on your thoughts, because he suddenly walks around the corner, head whipping around like he's searching for someone.

your not trying to look at him, but he catches your gaze immediately, and he skips towards you like a kid in a candy store.

"hi" he greets, a little giggle to his words. his face is a shade of bright red as he giggles once again, though nothing's funny. "pretty".

he whispers the last word, with the intention of you not hearing it, but his mind must be too clouded for him to realize that he said it much louder than he thought he did, but you don't say anything, just hum.

"hello" you greet back, and he laughs once again, covering his hand with his mouth. "are you okay?"

a loud snicker leaves his lips, and he moves closer to you to link his arm with yours. he rests his head onto your arm, a content smile spreading across his face. "i'm drunk".

his honest answer makes you question his state for a moment, since when do drunk people admit that they're drunk? or maybe he's only just tipsy.. your not sure, but he's not acting like a totally sober person right now.

"are you sure?" you raise an eyebrow, dejun just responds with a small 'hmph', and he keeps your arm linked with his. "dejun".

"yes! i am!" he yells as rebuttal, shaking your arm a few times. "do you wanna smell my breath?"

"oh no no no" you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. he laughs at you, his cheeks as pink as yangyang's hair, he grabs your hands, and whilst yours are cold, his are burning hot. "okay you have energy".

"i'm sorry" he suddenly blurts, another snort escaping his lips as he leans his head against your chest. you give him a look, confused as to why he felt the need to apologize.

"for what?"

"for doing that thing" dejun responds, closing his eyes as he sways back and forth. "i probably made everything awkward, i didn't mean to".

that's what he thinks? he thinks that he made everything awkward? you feel your heart break at the realization, but all dejun does is laugh sadly.

"you didn't— you didn't make everything awkward, it's okay".

dejun laughs again, clearing his throat. "just tell the truth, y/n.."

you chuckle, not at dejun, just at his words. he wants you to tell the truth? fine.. you will!

"dejun" you begin, using your pointer finger to tilt his chin up so the two of you make eye contact, you watch as his eyes widen, but he doesn't move, just lets you do your thing. "you can kiss me, it's okay".

he blinks, as if trying to figure out if you were lying or not. he opens his mouth, but no words come out, so he closes it again. "it is?" he asks again, just wanting reassurance, you hear his voice crack, but he's getting impatient, he wants your answer.

"yeah it's fine".

that's all the conformation dejun seems to need, because he finally presses his lips to yours after what seems like years of waiting. your arms naturally rest on his waist, and there's just something, something about this that makes you smile.

there's an urgency in the way he kisses you, and his hand comes up to hold your face. he is just so desperate, and it would be a lie to say that you weren't just as desperate as he is. you'd been wanting this for so long, you don't even know how many times you thought about what it would be like to kiss dejun.

his fingers caress your cheek, and the contact feels like your skin was set ablaze. maybe this is what you needed, and you assume it's exactly what dejun needed to, because he pushes on your shoulder with a seemingly inhumane amount of force, which makes you gasp a little.

while your one arm is around his waist, the other one goes up to run your fingers through his hair, somehow causing the two of you to both smile, barely stifling your laughs.

after what seems like forever, dejun pulls away, and while you're standing there, breathless, he just smiles, relaxing as you play with his hair. "you like my hair?"

you aren't sure why out of all things, that's what he decides to ask, but you laugh, completely enamored by the boy in front of you. "yep, it's soft" you reply, biting your inner cheek. "the color suits you".

dejun tilts his head, looking up at you with his insanely pretty eyes. you just want to squish his cheeks, or wrap him in a blanket and hold him forever, you aren't sure why you just have this surge of loving emotions for absolutely no reason, maybe it's the way he's staring at you, or that he just left you breathless and did it so flawlessly.

he hums, not knowing how to respond to your compliment. he just suddenly gets shy, his ears turning red at your words.

"you're so stupid.."

that's probably his favorite phrase to say to you by now, but you don't mind, you just smile as he hides his face away from you. 

"dejun" you call out despite him being right in front of you, and he looks up at you again, gaze warm as he gives you a small smile.

"yes?"

"i love you" you immediately spout, not even surprised by how high your voice has gotten. "like— in the i'm in love with you kinda way and not in a i just want you to kiss you but not call you my boyfriend kinda way".

dejun pauses, snickering at your words, he looks at you like you're the only person in the world.

what other way could there possibly be?

but you don't get any response, at least, not from him, because all he does is lean forward and press his lips to yours.

YOU'VE NEVER REALLY BEEN A FAN OF YOUR BIRTHDAY, and you aren't sure why. it used to be a fun thing up until you turned twelve and it suddenly felt like a switch had flipped, as if your birthday was making you miserable. now it's not like you always feel depressed on your birthday, it's just that sometimes you don't want to have a huge birthday celebration. most of the time— you only request for huge birthday bashes on specific days, like when you turned ten (you were very excited about becoming a double–figured age), or when you turned eighteen (you became an adult, not that exciting but it was definitely something, you could finally legally drink), but it's truly only specific days that you don't mind having large, people–filled birthday parties.

and not only were you not exactly anticipating your birthday, you already had something even bigger on your mind the whole time.

like dejun ghosting you! that's definitely one!

okay so you tell the guy you love him, you make out with him at a party (in the opposite order but oh well), he doesn't give you a response and then he decides to just ignore you?

maybe he just didn't know what to say, and that also lead to him just not picking up his phone for a good two weeks as he completely ignored your calls and texts and voicemails!

and with this being the only thing on your mind, your birthday seemed to be the least important event at the moment.

you didn't really want to think about it, and the campus was starting to make you feel sick, so this year you planned on visiting your parents after the day was over, considering your special day fell on a friday—

but guanheng, guanheng had other plans.

he practically begged you to let him throw the party for you, he wanted to do it so bad that he vowed to never ask you for a favor ever again (which is a lie! he never keeps his promises!), he was acting so desperate, it was like you'd just saved his life or something.

you're not sure what made guanheng so eager to throw a party for you, especially because you just didn't know what you would do with a bunch of people in your dorm.

but he insisted, he would throw you the best party in the world.

and after what seemed like forever, you two finally agreed on something—

you go visit your parents friday evening, and guanheng throws your party on saturday, easy!

"what do you mean strawberry isn't a good flavor!?"

you scoff at his question, nodding your head, as if confirming your words. "i don't like strawberry flavored things, you get me a strawberry cake and i'm making you sleep outside".

your threat results in a gasp from your roommate, who looks genuinely hurt by your words as he places a hand on his chest, horrified. "you are such a horrible roommate! threatening me when i'm throwing a party for you".

"it'll be a horrible party if you get me a horribly flavored cake".

you totally mean what you say as well— you truly dislike strawberry cake.

and when guanheng said party, you didn't exactly anticipate how many people he would decide to let into your dorm.

now you know a good chunk of these people, but most of these people probably decided to come just because they knew guanheng, all they did was utter some happy birthday's and then they ran off to do their own thing.

guanheng got most things right, he just invited a bunch of people that really didn't care for your birthday, just wanted to be around him.

so it's no surprise that you felt just a little disappointed about the people at your party that just didn't give two shits about your actual birthday.

and guanheng was off doing something else, though you could actually see him this time, he was telling people where to put the gifts they brought for you.

your beginning to feel suffocated in your own dorm, which is ironic to you, because this is quite literally the place you go to get away from a bunch of people, it's the only place of yours that isn't full of people.

so, you clear your throat, and push through people to get to the door, not wanting to stay inside with all these people, you'll probably end up throwing up everywhere if you stay inside even longer.

when you exit the dorm, you take a deep breath the moment you close the door, letting your back fall against it. you immediately jump as you see a person behind the door—

okay so dejun (who you confessed your love to by the way!), is pacing back and forth in front of your door, totally stressing. you blink, a look of confusion spreading across your face. "um.."

"are you okay?"

you aren't even sure why you opened your mouth, but if you didn't, this would just go on for a good twenty more minutes.

dejun jumps, clearing his throat as he smiles awkwardly. "you— scared the shit out of me".

he's acting so casually? after not talking to you for a good two weeks!?

"sorry—"

"i'm sorry!"

dejun immediately yells, covering his face with his hands. "i'm so sorry for not texting you! or calling you! or giving you a response! it was so stupid of me to not consider your feelings and instead of just telling you straight up how i felt i decided to ignore you but i was scared that i wouldn't be able to tell you without making it awkward and it—"

"dejun" you place your hands on his shoulders, turning him around to face you. "your rambling".

he sighs, eyes darting away from your face, he frowns. "but it's not okay, i didn't talk to you, i probably came off as such an asshole! you were probably so confused, and i just.. said nothing!"

you observe his features, and he looks even more anxious at your silence. his face goes red, and his leg begins bouncing up and down, whilst his hands look for something to hold.

"okay, calm down.." you mutter, reaching for his left hand and lacing it together with yours. "it's okay, there's no need to be worried".

"i'm sorry" he says again, finally looking up at you. "i get it if you don't forgive me—"

"dejun" you cut into his sentence, squeezing his left hand. "i forgive you.. i love you".

you repeat your confession once more, and dejun blinks, processing your words.

"i love you too".

and finally, after what seems like forever, after what was so long, he gave you a response.

before you could say anything more, dejun pulls you in for a hug, his arms circling around your waist. you're a bit taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but you also don't mind, because he squeezes you tighter.

"happy birthday" he mumbles, a small smile coming to his face as he feels your hand comb through his hair. "i'm sorry".

"stop apologizing" you say, lifting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. "i forgive you, it's okay".

and it is, you're being completely honest, but dejun doesn't say more, immediately pulling you back into a warm hug

but suddenly, the door to your dorm swings open and guanheng peaks his head out, eyes widening as he witnesses the current thing. he has absolutely no context to anything which was happening at the moment, he just opened the door to witness a totally unaware dejun hugging you.

"uh.." he blinks, glancing between you two, but not asking anything, just clearing his throat. "it's time to cut the cake?" he laughs awkwardly, and you just smile, giving him a i'll be right there look.

"o...kay" he doesn't say anything more, just goes back inside and closes the door.

dejun giggles as guanheng closes the door, pulling away again to look up at you. "oh he is totally tired of us".

"we didn't do anything, though".

dejun snickers, lightly hitting your arm. "okay okay, you need to stop, it's your birthday, you have to go cut your cake".

"and.." he pauses, pulling a box out of nowhere and handing it over to you. "open your gifts".

you raise an eyebrow, confused. "where were you even hiding that?"

"that's irrelevant! it's your birthday, come on!"

and you let him drag you back into your dorm, smiling at him the whole time.

YOU ALMOST CONSIDER THE WAY YOU are acting to be absurd, and it's funny how much of another side dejun can just bring out of you. now you would never consider yourself to be a grumpy person, but people usually do describe you as having a 'natural frown'. you never really thought of yourself as being like that, but you guess that people don't see you look so happy much, because they continue to point out how it's like some glitch in the matrix to see you just a little less miserable as each day passes. chenle especially makes comments, talking about how you need to "put your smile away" because not seeing your resting face constantly freaks him out, renjun on the other hand, is elated, or maybe he's just glad he can finally be rid of you, you don't know.

but all that put aside, you are happy, and you have a cute oreo–haired man to thank for that.

and maybe this is all you really need, just dejun, the two of you don't even have to do anything, he can just lay his head down onto your shoulder and you'd be having a good time.

you like it when he sits down and paints your nails for you, or when he watches you bake over your shoulder, not knowing what to do but happy to watch you do your thing, or when he coerces you to win prizes from carnival games for him with his absolutely adorable eyes (he doesn't even need to try to coerce you, you'd do it either way).

"i'm pretty sure this is illegal".

"it's not!" you reply, though you mean to reassure dejun, your words seem to worry him more than anything. you take his hand, squeezing it. "dejun, i'm not getting you into any illegal activity".

"i can never tell with you" he retorts suspiciously, keeping your hand in his as you lead him up, he would have tripped if not for you holding your hand and guiding you up.

you clear your throat, patting the spot beside you as dejun immediately sits, so close to you that your legs are touching. "if i ever wanted to do something illegal, i'd know better than to bring you along".

he gasps, and you can't resist the urge to laugh at how offended he sounds. "what is that supposed to mean!?"

"you" your pointer finger touches his nose, and he doesn't even try to move. "are a snitch, you would be horrible to commit a crime with".

dejun slaps your hand away, and you laugh at the way he crosses his arms, a familiar pout gracing his absolutely beautiful features. "you— i.. take that back!"

"it's true! even yangyang would be a better option than you!"

dejun is even more offended by the words, and he slowly scoots away from you, arms still crossed as he pouts. you giggle as he remains scooted away from you, still angry about the words you said.

"uh— jun, i was just joking!"

"you suck".

dejun glares, but his glare is anything but serious, as you can see the way he slowly starts to break under your gaze, resisting the urge to burst into laughter. "i hate you".

"you love me".

he does, and he can't pretend he doesn't, because he almost immediately snickers, looking away from you as to not laugh more.

oh he is just so adorable.

you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, making him yelp. "you're so cute" you mutter into his shoulder, and at this point, dejun doesn't even try to pretend anymore.

"you're so corny" he says, patting your arms that currently circle around his waist. you lean your head down onto his shoulder, making yourself comfortable, and he just lets you, because at this point he can't really push you off him.

"don't fall asleep, i'm not going to carry you back to your place".

"you would be too weak to carry me anyway— ow!"

you yell loudly as dejun nudges you in the stomach with his elbow, and while he looks absolutely proud of himself, you just glare, absolutely done with him.

but you don't say anything, just lets your fingers run through his hair, probably your favorite thing to do with him. he just cups your face, and he just smiles at your face, giggling. "your just as cute as when we first met".

the statement makes you snicker, because you did not expect for him to say that out of all things he could've said. you get why he says it though, because you are at the place where it all began, the bleachers, the same bleachers where you two were standing when you shared your first interaction.

you tilt your head, wanting to tease him more. "so there were moments where i wasn't cute, then?"

dejun scoffs, turning away from you. he lightly pinches your arm, and you yelp once again, inching away from him. "why do you enjoy hurting me?"

he smiles innocently. "i don't, i have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"

your face drops, and all dejun does is laugh, squeezing your cheeks. "don't be mad, babe, you know i love you".

and you do, you do know, he never fails to remind you of how much he does.

"i love you too.."

with your eye rolls, and tiny mutters, dejun knows, he knows that you're telling the truth.

[crimeronan]

Ok wait BUT, we know it's possible to remotely enter someone's mind scape. So what if Luz let's Camilla and Vee run hunter off cause she doesn't remember him. So Hunter decides to (SOMEHOW) drag Darius into fixing her mind. Darius brings raine along, and it's like the worst version of them figuring out if she would have been an Evil Empress.

Hunter desperately trying to fix luz which would REQUIRE him to see all the grimwalker shit. Raine thinking they fucked up so bad to not see this all. Everyone is bitching with everyone else.

"Little prince are you all right?"

"I'm so good rn Darius. I'm a zombie clone but also luz Knows, and that means she remembers me, so everything is great hahahahaa"

But they fix it all, right? Hunter is having a breakdown, but they got all the memories in place.

And then Luz wakes up next to Vee, and she is freaking out!!!!! She sent HER BOY away!

hunter is like darius, if you don't help me, i'm going to find a way to do it myself. and her inner self probably won't be too fond of me, given what i saw. i don't know exactly what belos did to her, but she was scared of me, so i know he did SOMETHING. you KNOW she'd never be afraid of me

& darius, who has been dealing with the fact that hunter managed to sneak past all his security to go get himself killed by belos, is like for fuck's sake. you really will, won't you.

fine. Fine.

raine gets roped in because they're good with luz & hunter trusts them implicitly. so they're on official Keep The Inner Luz Calm duties.

also, luz's two-tiered mindscape.... she has all her (now incomplete/jumbled/confused) grimwalker memories on the surface. all her memories of when she pretended to be an unfeeling little tyrant to please belos. so even when they put the pieces back together, hunter is STILL like no. something's wrong. these can't be right, that's not.... that's not LUZ.

while darius is trying to be gentle about "that IS luz." except, yknow. darius doesn't have a gentle bone in his body. so he's just like welp. sucks to see her true self. she's probably better off left in the human realm, huh??

meanwhile raine is the one to be like no... this doesn't feel right to me either. this doesn't account for any of what i know about luz.

if and when the inner luz shows up, i think she'd solve this for them.... she can SEE that something is wrong with her memories, she's soot-stained with unhealing burn injuries and she keeps coughing and she needs Help. she'll take whatever help she can get. she'll lead them to the lower levels and the "real" luz memories. and everything down there is a blackened wasteland -- all her wild magic, all her childhood memories, all her love for hunter.

and that's worse for hunter than even fixing the grimwalker memories was. seeing just how devastated her mindscape is, just how damaged and in pain her inner self is....

and then yeah. luz wakes up healed in the real world & is immediately Frantic. more frantic than vee or camila have ever seen her. running out of the house, out into the street, not bothering to watch for cars. stumbling over her own feet. calling hunter's name. screaming at both vee And camila when they try to calm her down and get her to come inside.

ough. Ough.

babies....

[kj-yikes]

10. Heroic

(on ao3 here)

Rating: Mature (Content warnings for major character death [Lena], implied suicidal thoughts, brief mentions of a panic attack.)

Kara chooses, and she chooses wrong. Then, her world collapses.

The scenario was simple, inevitable: save the world from Lex's usual antics or save Lena from her brother. Kara, always the optimist, consults with Alex and comes up with a plan. She only has a few seconds, but she thinks it's enough time. Supergirl will fly and intercept the Claymore missile, ensuring it detonates a safe distance into Earth's atmosphere so it doesn't take out all of National City. That's what Supergirl's good at, anyway. No one else can do what she can, so despite every fiber in her being screaming at her to rescue Lena, she flies towards the rocket.

Alex will portal to Lena and save her. She's prepared, with a bulletproof vest and more guns strapped to her body than even Kara can count. At the look on Kara's face before the part ways, Alex grabs her sister's arm and presses her forehead to Kara's. "I will save her. I promise you."

Kara does her thing. She shoots off into the sky and finds the missile, carrying it up to the highest point in Earth's atmosphere. With a mighty heave, she throws it into space. A few seconds later, it explodes, shrapnel floating in the lack of gravity.

Kara closes her eyes, relieved, and sighs. She opens up her hearing, searching for the sound she needs to hear. She hears Alex's heartbeat, pulsing steadily.

But she can't find Lena's.

Panicked, she nearly breaks the sound barrier flying to where she hears Alex. Glass shatters as she breaks through the window and lands.

A sight that pummels her to her very soul: Lena, laying on the ground, Alex holding her wrist to check her pulse.

Everything stills. Kara is frozen in the moment, her worst nightmare. Lena's bruised and purple face is motionless. She's there, right in front of Kara, and yet Kara can't hear her heartbeat.

She screams. Or she thinks she does. She hears a scream. It's probably hers.

Tears stream down Alex's face. "Kara, I'm so sorry. I — I tried. I'm so, so sorry."

Kara doesn't hear. For once, the entire world is silent, because so is Lena's heart.

"No. No. No no no no," Kara can't stop repeating the word. Thoughts jumble in her head, but her mouth just moves and utters the same syllable over and over. She's suddenly kneeling, roughly yanking Lena's hand from Alex. She's not sure how she got here.

Lena's hand is warm. It smells like the spicy-sweet perfume she always wears. There's no pulse.

Lena is—

No.

It's not possible.

"Lena, come on. Lena," Kara pleads, grasping her limp hand and pulling it up to her mouth. Lena's hand is wet. Kara hadn't realized she was crying.

"Kara—"

"NO!" She shrugs away a hand from her back. "Don't touch me. Lena, wake up." She thinks she hears someone portal behind them. Someone is retching. Kara doesn't think it's her.

"Lena," Kara pleads. This time, her voice breaks. She wails. She presses kisses to Lena's hand, which grows colder by the minute.

Kara collapses into Lena's still chest. Time passes, or it doesn't. Kara can't tell. Her sobs are endless. Her mind is blank with grief and shock. She thinks someone is pulling her up. She refuses to let go of Lena, and the hands leave Kara's shoulders.

Her tears have dried up. It's too quiet, without Lena's heartbeat. She feels hands at her back again.

"Kara," J'onn says softly. "We need to move her."

Kara shuts her eyes. "I'll do it." She gathers Lena's body into her arms and stands. Nia, J'onn, and Alex are gathered at the edge of the room. Kara says nothing as she shoots into the sky.

----------

Alex has come to her apartment four separate times. It's probably been four days. Kara's not sure. She doesn't care. Alex sits in front of her. She's speaking. Kara can't make out the words.

"Leave me alone, Alex."

Alex's brow furrows. "Kara, please, talk to me. Let me help you."

"There's nothing to say, Alex. I failed. I failed her. I chose wrong." Kara's voice is robotic, void of emotion. She's already said these things to Alex, and yet.

"Kara, there was no way to win. You did what you thought was best," Alex says quietly.

No, Kara thinks. She didn't do what she thought was best. And that was the problem. She did what was expected of her. She did what she was supposed to do. She didn't do what she wanted to do. And now, Lena's—

"I chose wrong, Alex! I chose wrong!" Kara screams, exploding. She thinks, if she can scream loud enough, perhaps someone will actually listen. Perhaps Rao will hear her sacred prayer and bring Lena back.

He doesn't. No one listens. Kara's here, and Lena's —

Kara squeezes her eyes shut.

What good is having superpowers if you can't save the ones you love? What good is being a hero if you can't be a hero to the woman you loved more than anyone? More than life itself? What good is being the survivor when you can't die for those you love?

Kara would die to bring Lena back.

It didn't matter that they hadn't spoken in months. It didn't matter that Lena had broken her heart by stealing Myriad and encasing Kara in kryptonite. It didn't matter that Lena had been working with Lex.

Because this scenario — Lena, not here anymore — is so much worse than Lena making bad decisions.

"Kara. Kara, listen to me," Alex says softly. "You saved millions of lives. You did that."

"I wish I hadn't. The only person I should have saved is Lena." Alex pulls her head back, shocked.

"You don't know what you're saying, Kara. The grief—"

"I know exactly what I'm saying, Alex. Two options: save National City or save Lena. I chose wrong." Kara bites out. She registers that Alex is staring at her, dumbstruck. "Oh, is that not what Supergirl would do?" she says darkly, sarcastically.

"Kara, Lena was working with Lex. She made her choice," Alex reasons.

"No!" Kara shouts, standing up and balling her hands into fists. "She shouldn't die because of a mistake. She shouldn't die because of my mistake." Her chest heaves. Too fast. She can't catch her breath. The room is spinning. Her pod is spinning. Bright lights are flashing, explosions. She can't move, she can't breathe, she can't do anything. Lena is… Lena is… and she couldn't save her. Didn't save her.

"Kara, hey, look at me. Right here," Alex's face swims in front of her. Kara's sobbing, gasping for breath. "I'm going to breathe in for four, out for four. You don't have to match me, just pay attention to my breath." Alex breathes in, out.

Kara listens, feels Alex's chest move. Slowly, her breath evens to match Alex's. She feels Alex wrapped around her. She sniffles into Alex's shoulder.

"I didn't get to tell her, Alex." Her voice is as fractured as her soul.

"That you're sorry?"

"That I love her."

----------

Two months later.

Lena is gone.

Kara can think the words now, even if she can't say them out loud still.

Kara decides to visit Argo. Alex thinks a change of scenery will help. Kara thinks the only change of scenery she needs is Lena, standing in front of her.

She arrives on Argo, welcomed by her mother and Kal. It's only when they round the corner of the plaza that Kara sees it, and she collapses on the spot.

A statue. Lena.

"She's the hero of Argo," Alura tells her daughter softly, stroking her hair. "Without the recipe for harun-el, we couldn't survive. She saved us." Kara looks up, and even Kal is looking down at her with a sorrowful expression. Kal, the nemesis of Lex Luthor, mourning his sister.

Kara studies the statue. Lena's not posed with her hands on her hips in a superhero stance. No, she's standing with a curious expression on her face, wearing a lab coat and holding a test tube and a piece of harun-el. She's in her lab, working out a puzzle, as she always wanted to be. It's perfect.

Lena was always heroic, but she never wanted to be a hero. Kara's not sure if Lena would have liked that a statue stands memorializing her heroics. She didn't care to be in the spotlight. She cared about doing good.

Kara likes it though. It means Lena will be remembered for something different here. She'll be remembered as she deserves to be.

Kara thinks she's the only person on Earth who saw Lena for who she really was. But on Argo, they do too.

The corner of Kara's mouth turn up in the smallest hint of a smile through the tears.

[soft-mafia]

Request: Buggy and reader having a cute data with Buggy doing magic tricks throughout the data, making the reader to laugh and return making Buggy smile

Magic[Buggy x Reader]

warnings: fem reader, fem y/n, short silly fluff

a/n: THIS IS SO ADORABLE ACTUALLY😭😭I took a few creative liberties bc I love my cringe fail husband.

“Ok… what about this one?” Buggy said, pulling out a flat saltine cracker, “I’ll tell her that I’ll sprinkle some magic dust on it to make it disappear and—!” He turned around, crunching the cracker in his hands, then turning back around and opening his palm, revealing the crushed crumbs of the saltine, “Boom. You think she’ll like that?”

Cabaji and Mohji clapped, however Galdino wasn’t too impressed. He groaned and put a hand over his head, “She’s not a child, Buggy. You’re gonna lose her as fast as you got her.”

“I’m trying my best, damn!!” Buggy growled, throwing the cracker crumbs overboard, then sighing loudly, holding his head in his palm, “I need to impress her somehow… Mohji, can you teach me how to train Richie to jump through a flying hoop or something?!”

“I could… but that type of stunt takes days for someone to master, and your date with her is tonight, isn’t it?” He replied.

Buggy groaned loudly and hid his face in his hands, “It is!! And I have nothing!!” He grumbled, “She’s gonna think I’m pathetic!”

“I’m surprised she already doesn’t…” Galdino mumbled under his breath. Buggy growled and shouted again, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!” Buggy then let out another groan and whined, “Can you guys at least help make me look handsome? I have an outfit picked out and everything.”

After another run through of his cheesy magic tricks and jokes, they helped him get ready, having to help him redo his makeup for about 40 minutes because he was too picky and couldn’t get it exactly the way he wanted. While he was sulking in his bathroom, he completely forgot that it was almost time to take Y/n out on the beach. She walked into the quarters, looking stunning as ever in her bathing suit, even though neither of them could actually go swimming.

“Hey, have you seen Buggy? Is he still getting ready?” She asked, and before anyone could speak, Buggy let out a scream from the bathroom, immediately bursting out, his body parts in a jumble. He put himself back together as he rushed back over to Y/n, putting his hands on her waist. He was wearing a silly flower printed shirt with swim trunks, along with socks and sandals(that made his bounty increase by a billion berries).

“I’m right here baby, don’t worry your pretty little head.” He giggled, then stroked a hand through her hair until he smoothly pulled out a rose, “Oh, what’s this?” He asked, then handed her the flower. Y/n smiled brightly, taking the stem in her fingers before looking up at Buggy lovingly, “Awww! Thank you!”

As he let her back out of the cabin, he turned and flashed a thumbs up and wide grin at the three men.

“Pick a card.” Buggy said, fanning out a deck of cards in front of Y/n as they sat on a picnic blanket near the shore, the sun was nearly setting. Y/n giggled softly before reaching her hand out to grab a card, however Buggy panicked, holding it back, “No- not that one… uhh, pick something else.” He mumbled. Y/n blinked, but then smiled and attempted to pick another one, to which Buggy stammered again.

“No!! No, not that one!” Eventually she picked one, and he grinned widely. Once she held her card, he shuffled the deck in a strategic way, and then he pulled out a 3 of clubs, “Is this your card?” He said proudly. Y/n looked down at her card, then nodded excitedly, “It is!”

The smile on her face, and her giggles of excitement filled Buggy’s heart with not only pride, but a little bit of affection too— actually, a lot of affection. She was laying there looking gorgeous, laughing at his magic trick that he had to try again a few times to even get right. There wasn’t any trace of mockery, she was actually enjoying it. He got increasingly confident the more the night went on, he made coins disappear, pulled candy and jewelry from out behind her ears and from her hair. Once nightfall hit he attempted to do a cool card shuffling trick, however the only light they had was from a small candlelight that was close to burning out, he could barely see anything and before he knew it, the cards just flew out of his hand and right onto that candle.

Some of them caught on fire, to which he panicked and threw the entire picnic blanket out into the ocean on impulse. Y/n squeaked and was flown back onto the sand.

“Oh crap!! The food!!” Buggy screeched when he saw his half eaten hot dog floating in the water, but then he remembered something more important, “OH-! Y/N!!!” He quickly rushed to her side, helping her up off of the sand, a blush spread across his cheeks as he brushed it off of her thighs. After she was fully helped up to her feet, she giggled at Buggy, making him blush harder.

Then, she kissed him on the lips, holding his face. When she pulled away she stroked his hair back, her smile growing when she saw his entire face was blushing bright red.

“I- I’m sorry…” Buggy chuckled nervously, “I panicked.”

Y/n giggled again, wrapping her arms around his neck, “It’s ok. It was kind of funny.” She kissed him again, “This was nice! I loved your card trick.”

Buggy was flustered, grinning like an idiot and quaking internally, “Oh, really?” He grinned, then swallowed to regain some of his confidence, “Well… I have a few other tricks up my sleeve, if you’re up for it.” He leaned in close to her, holding her chin up with one finger. Y/n smiled and blushed, looking away as it spread across her cheeks, that made Buggy laugh, he swung his arm around her shoulder as they walked back to the ship together.

Galdino, Cabaji and Mohji were all watching from the bushes, Buggy had instructed Mohji to tranquilize Y/n if anything went wrong, then convince her that it was all a dream when she woke back up— and he almost had, however Buggy held her at just the right moment.

Even during their panic when Buggy was bombing half of his tricks, what surprised them the most was how entertained Y/n had been, and that dreamy look in her eyes whenever she would look at him.

Buggy was clearly a stupid clown, but Y/n loved him nonetheless.

[climbthemountain2020]

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 11

Part 11/18 | Ao3

Thanks as always to my babies @witch-and-her-witcher and @cauldronblssd

Feyre was lost in thought looking at a tapestry in a shop’s front window, the vibrant colors blending and melting together like paint rather than woven strands. She wondered how it would feel under her fingers, how the threads might move or shift beneath her touch. It depicted a night sky amongst tall columns of clouds, the moon and stars nestled in between and an ethereal glow lining the edges. It was filled with deep navy and purple tones, but it also had the bright highlights of periwinkle and lavender. It was a masterpiece, and she couldn’t help but think of Rhys, as she had been for days.

Feyre’s thoughts had been a jumbled mess since her discovery more than a week ago. Rhys–her Rhys–was the illustrious, nefarious High Lord of the Night Court. It was almost laughable to think about–more so that she’d missed so many signs. She’d spent the last months scared of this male she only knew of through stories while pining for her strong, soft, sweet Rhys. She’d saved the Lord of Nightmares’ book for last because of the lack of chance she thought she’d had to encounter him. And yet, there he’d been, those violet eyes so poorly captured in the magical book, lacking their mischief and joy and love. The galaxies shone in his eyes when she’d stood face to face with him, and no book, magical or not, could ever hold a candle to that.

“I can see you outside, somewhere beneath the stars with a clear view of the sky,” he’d said to her the night they met. Cad. She nearly laughed now at the ridiculousness of it all.

She’d tried over the course of the last few days to remember what she knew for certain, having unfolded and refolded those pieces of paper with everything she knew about him until the creases became worn and fragile.

Rhys was beneath the mountain and had been for the better part of fifty years.

Rhys had somehow snuck into the human lands and attended her family’s masquerade ball, meeting her and changing the course of both of their lives.

Rhys’s presence that night had a domino effect, causing her to get to know Vincent, then meet Vilja, then Lucien and Tamlin and Calla.

She had somehow repeatedly met Rhys in her dreams since then and fallen in love with him there. If she’d been uncertain before, the last week had convinced her. How else could she have reconciled him with the terrifying Lord of Night and not run screaming?

She’d looked at that picture more times now than she could count, and yet, she could not find it anywhere within herself to feel any ounce of fear towards him, to what he was. Other than the fact that she knew the truth now, she’d shocked herself to find that absolutely nothing had changed. She would still do everything in her power to get Calla to break the curse. And if she couldn’t, Feyre knew she would be going Under the Mountain, every bit of her heart and soul ready to free him, even if he was the High Lord of Nightmares.

“-eyre!” She jumped. Calla was waving a hand in front of her face, and Feyre looked down to where her fingers were absently stroking the glass of the store that held the tapestry.

“You’ve been so lost in your head lately. What is going on?” Calla hadn’t been around quite as much since Calanmai, but Feyre couldn’t find it in her to be upset. It meant she was spending more time with Tamlin, and every single day counted. Feyre spent most of her time now with Lucien, the training becoming nearly second nature. She was still not as proficient as she’d like to be, either with her strength or with her magic, but she reminded herself often that the improvements she was making were all steps towards her final goal.

He had asked her the previous week if she’d ever tried winnowing, and they’d practiced to disastrously frustrating results. She couldn’t summon even the smallest bit of her magic towards it, making her more and more irritated and finally culminating in Lucien insisting that they stop for the day.

She’d tried twice since and still nothing.

“Sorry, I’m just tired.” It was her go-to excuse these days. She wasn’t ready to tell any of them what she’d learned–she wasn’t sure she ever would be. If she loved Rhys, if it was meant to be, and the people she considered her family hated him, where would that leave her?

“You’ve been tired a lot lately. Is everything alright?” She nodded, faking a smile to Calla and stepping back from the window.

Today, Calla and Feyre had wandered into the nearest town, only about a twenty minute walk away from the manor. Feyre had badly needed a distraction to keep her mind from wandering in circles, and Calla had offered to join. It was a beautiful town, thriving and busy, and Feyre had filled a bag with fresh treats and apples from the market, as well as some small tins of paint and canvas.

Feyre forced a laugh. “Lucien must be losing his edge in training. I’ll need to rib him about it.” Calla looked unconvinced, but nodded anyway.

“You ready to head back?”

Feyre nodded, tucking her bag into the crook of her arm and turning from the store. Feyre was ready to get home. Another nightfall meant another chance to see him. She hadn’t managed to dream of him–or otherwise–since Calanmai. Truly, she didn’t want to dream of him anymore, or whatever was happening. She wanted to be back in his arms for good. She wanted to feel him the way she had before, his skin against her skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. She longed for it in a way she’d never longed for anything in her life–a bone-deep need that ached through her every time she thought about it.

Lucien had noticed her distance too, noting it not just in their training but her general demeanor. She had tried to distract where she could, shifting the conversation to Tamlin and Calla, which usually seemed to be enough. Their new and tentative physical relationship was a big difference in the day-to-day happenings of the manor. Of course, barbs were still being thrown, but there were also covert touches being passed back and forth that neither Feyre nor Lucien failed to note. It was hard not to be giddy about the possibility unfolding before their very eyes, but Feyre stringently tamped it down, refusing to get her hopes up too high.

After the second night of Calanmai celebrations, Lucien and Feyre hadn’t said a word when Calla had joined them for drinks on the back porch, and they had elbowed each other and giggled like school children when neither Calla nor Tamlin showed up the following night, congratulating each other on their scheming successes.

Calla, of course, refused to talk about it, but Feyre found it endearing that she would blush any time it was brought up.

And she did bring it up as often as she could. “So…have you guys, you know…” She turned to Calla and wiggled her eyebrows while Calla turned ten shades of scarlet, filling the time while they walked back to the manor.

“Feyre.”

“What? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“You mean you and Lucien want to know. Busybodies.” She stuck her tongue out at Feyre, who laughed.

“This is what friends do–talk about things.”

“Oh, is it? Or are you just nosey?”

“Why can't both of these things be true?”

Calla shoved her playfully, but relented. “Okay, yes, maybe we have…been physical–”

In the distance, the thundering of hooves startled them out of the conversation.

Cresting over the hill coming from the direction of the manor were Lucien and Tamlin on horseback, clouds of dust flaring furiously up from the road in their wake as they galloped near violently towards the women. Even from this distance, Feyre could tell something was very, very wrong.

As they neared, Feyre could see they weren’t slowing down. She turned quickly to Calla.

“Hold your arms out and get ready to jump.” Calla looked panicked, but followed her directions, and the two males were suddenly upon them, sweeping them onto horseback without even breaking stride.

“What happened?” Feyre yelled over the sound as she gripped Lucien, the two horses making a wide turn to race back in the direction of the manor.

“There's been an incident. We had to make sure you were safe,” Tamlin yelled across the space between them.

“What incident?” Calla pried, her eyes squinted from the harsh speed of the air hitting her face.

But Tamlin stayed silent while all manner of things whizzed through Feyre’s mind, her heart racing as she began to panic.

What had happened? What had Tamlin seen that he didn’t want them to know?

Suddenly, she found herself seeing the same road but from somewhere else–someone else’s eyes. Then she was pulled violently backwards into a different place, the dining room. It was different, though, as though she was viewing it all from the head of the table, from Tamlin’s seat. She could feel emotions that were not her own: possession, anger, fear.

She could see Lucien in his seat, back as stiff as a rail as he looked towards the doors. Her chair and Calla’s were empty, but the males were wearing the same outfits that they currently had on. She was seeing the lunch they'd missed while in town.

She had unintentionally slipped into Tamlin’s mind.

Her eyes–Tamlin’s eyes–focused, and saw a figure parading into the manor of Spring where they ate every day.

It was Rhys. He was there, the same beautiful male her heart beat for, just as he’d appeared that first night at the ball. He was dressed in his fancier clothes–he’d been much more casual in their dream visits. His hair was lovely, pushed back off his face, the lights from above illuminating his cheekbones and feral smile.The air about him was different, cocky, toying as he paced around the table like a predator cornering prey. It wasn’t in the teasing, coaxing way that he’d done it that night at the masquerade, though. This was a dangerous fae male in front of her here, and Tamlin’s anxiety and anger at his presence had Feyre feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She couldn’t hear the words he spoke in the memory, muffled like they were being spoken underwater, but she could feel the wavering emotions in Tamlin, see the clench of Lucien’s jaw and angry retorts as Rhys baited them, his smirk getting rise after rise out of them.

But then Rhys suddenly stopped prowling, his entire body language changing, seizing up and freezing like he’d been forcibly stopped by something. He gripped the back of the chair in front of him–Feyre's chair, empty since she and Calla had been in town, and all the sound came through at once.

“Who sits here?” His voice was calm, but the undercurrent held a promise of violence, the words spoken through a suddenly clenched jaw.

Tamlin and Lucien had remained silent.

“Who sits here?” His fingers tightened, cracking the polished hardwood that made up the back of the chair. “I can smell her. Now tell me, who sits here?” He smiled, but there was no mirth in it, only a threat.

“A human girl. She was here, but she’s gone.” The words came out of Feyre, but it was Tamlin’s voice she heard.

“Gone?”

His face was the picture of cool nonchalance, regality rippling off him in waves. But Feyre could see his eyes were wild, that normal calm and polished demeanor gone in favor of something near-crazed.

“She was a human girl. We brought her here for the treaty, but she was miserable. She could never have loved me. So, I sent her home.” Tamlin’s voice was powerful too, and Feyre’s mind shook with the command in it.

Rhys snarled, shoving forward and seething as he got into Tamlin’s face.

“Where. Is. She?” He punctuated each word with the gnashing of teeth. Feyre knew she should be afraid, knew that someone with his sort of power could rip straight through her and that her instincts should be screaming at her to run. But the red hot sensation curling in her lower belly at the thought that all this stemmed from him scenting her wasn’t born of fear.

Suddenly, she was ripped from Tamlin’s mind, the memory spiraling away into nothing. They were stopped in the yard, Calla and Lucien already dismounting the horses, but Tamlin was staring straight at her, his expression as shocked and bewildered as she felt.

Lucien pulled Feyre down from the horse by the waist, already trying to push her back towards the manor. Tamlin broke his intense stare to tell Calla to go with them while he resurrected the wards. Feyre could see it now, if she focused, the bright strings absolutely in shambles near the forest edge.

He'd come in right there. He'd been here. And she'd missed him.

Something sour and crestfallen twisted in her chest. She was barely able to walk as she stumbled up the steps.

“What is going on?” Calla demanded while stomping her foot like a child. Lucien tried to keep ushering them in, but Feyre had stopped to watch Tamlin reweave the wards.

“Someone was here, and we need to get you somewhere safe. Keep going.”

But Feyre remained on the manor’s steps, listening to Lucien and a protesting Calla disappear into the house.

She could smell him. She could smell him here in the breeze, the scent lingering. She felt like her heart was breaking.

She'd spent all this time keeping him from here. But he'd finally come; he’d found her anyway. And he'd missed her, and now all she wanted to do was cry.

She lost track of Tamlin, jolting when his hand touched her shoulder, eyes both wary and full of concern. She wondered what it was he saw on her face. He knew now, at least about her daemati powers. He’d felt her there, and there was no use denying it.

“What did you tell him?”

“That we’d had a human girl here that we’d sent away. I gave the name of a girl that Calla had spoken about from her village. Clare Beddor. It seemed to be enough to get him to leave.”

Feyre nodded. “Will he return?” The hope in her voice felt badly disguised.

“I don't know.”

She thought of the memory, the way that Rhys had seemed so different, so intentionally frightening. She still couldn't find it in herself to be afraid. It was as easy as breathing to see that mask he wore, as obviously as the one from the night of the ball.

Was this what Vilja had been trying to tell her about things not being as they appeared? Had she assumed Feyre would see him, see the role he had to play and find him lacking? Too twisted and wrong for her?

The lack of faith punched the air from her lungs, and the longing and sadness and heartache swam roughly within her. She knew his heart, the steady beating of it as familiar as her own, it seemed. She could see him, all of him, and she found it still didn't perturb her at all. In fact, all she could think about now was how much she ached to see him here in Spring, standing in front of her and not at all a dream. She didn’t care about how mad he’d be, consequences be damned.

“Come, Feyre. Let's get inside.”

Lucien and Calla were arguing when they entered, Feyre feeling like an outsider in her own body as she dragged herself through the doors and into the foyer.

“Calla, go to your room and pack.” Tamlin’s voice was soft, but the command in it was clear.

“Pack? But I'm not leaving–”

“Go.”

“No, I–”

“GO,” he bellowed, startling Feyre out of her daze. “I will not risk you. You'll leave tomorrow. I'll come to discuss with you in a bit.”

Calla went to object again, but Feyre's haunted eyes met hers and the words seemed to die in Calla’s throat. She turned on her heel and made her way up the stairs to her room.

The smell of Rhys was stronger here in the foyer, the citrus scent burning her eyes with unshed tears.

He was here. And she’d missed him.

She couldn’t make herself think of anything else. She felt a single tear drip down her face, hot as it carved its way to her neck. What was wrong with her? This had been what she'd fought for

Lucien put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Feyre. We will keep you safe.” He’d misunderstood her tears, thinking she was scared of the intruder they’d had, not that her heart was breaking in two at the thought of him coming and going without her.

But Tamlin stood across the foyer, emerald eyes focused through his mask on Feyre and Feyre alone.

She took a deep breath. No more lies.

“It’s time we talk.”

She made for the back porch, to the seats she’d come to know so well, the place of comfort with those she cared for the most.

“Please don't hate me.” She sighed as they all sat. “Actually, you probably should hate me. I’ll understand if you do. Just agree to hear me out first.” They looked at her skeptically, but Tamlin spoke first.

“You have powers.”

“Yes.”

“More than fire?” Lucien added.

“Yes.”

“Which ones?”

Feyre swallowed hard. “All of them?” Lucien looked lost, but Tamlin seemed skeptical more than anything, his brow furrowed over his eyes as they looked at the arm band she wore and never took off. He’d given it to her because he cared about her; he wanted her to be able to protect herself. She could almost see him wondering if she’d done it to make a fool of him.

“What are you?” he asked.

“Human.”

“You're not half fae?” Lucien seemed genuinely surprised.

“I'm not. I'm a human girl, and I made a bargain.” She lifted her sleeve and let the glamour drop, the three stars shining darkly against her freckled skin. Lucien and Tamlin exchanged a look. “I think it's best I start from the beginning.”

So she did. She told them about the ball, the dreams, about Vincent. The ache in her heart when she thought about the months away from him was palpable, and she hoped he was doing well.

She told them about how she'd wandered into the woods at his prompting, finding the fae female she now knew was Vilja, to which Tamlin’s eyes shot to hers.

“She's okay?”

“Oh yes, gave me quite a run for my money, in fact.”

He laughed a little wetly, looking away. “She'll do that.”

“But she's fine, Tamlin. Very cozy in her cabin of lovely trinkets, and well protected in the woods, and very pushy. She made a deal with me that she would give me the powers of the High Lords, allow me to cross into Prythian, and to help. She told me that I had a part to play in helping stop her, and that if I could get my fae male to love me, openly and without pretense, then I could become immortal and stay forever.”

The silence seemed to stretch for ages, even though Lucien had already gotten an inkling of the story. She’d wondered how much he’d shared with Tamlin.

“So, it isn't your father you seek then?” Tamlin asked, piecing his information together.

“No, it is not.”

“But your betrothed is ...trapped there?” So Lucien hadn't told him about their conversation. She had a brief flare of gratitude to him for keeping her secrets.

“He is.”

“And you are going to help with everything, in hopes of what?”

She went to speak, but in anticipation of the coming words, her throat twisted–the hold on all of them prevented her yet again from speaking plainly. Feyre grunted as she rolled her eyes. “I am so sick of this. Yes. I am here to help. I'm still not sure if the intent was that I was simply to lead Calla to love Tamlin, or if there's something more to it. Vilja couldn't tell me much either, and Vincent didn't know more specifics. As soon as I passed into Spring, I lost the ability to discuss it, too.”

Both males sat in stunned silence, Lucien leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair.

“Does Calla know?” Feyre shook her head.

“Have you been in our heads?” Lucien asked, his voice more wary than it had been.

“I slipped into Calla’s once accidentally, then Tamlin’s today. Another accident. I've been teaching myself how to control the powers, but some of them I clearly still don't have a good hold on. I'm so sorry I lied to you both.”

Tamlins eyed her. “Why did you?”

“Vilja warned me to play my role. And I was scared. Then I grew to care for you both, and for the first time in my life I felt like I had a real home somewhere.”

Lucien's eyes softened at that. “The friendship wasn't a lie then?” The question was so abruptly vulnerable that it stole Feyre’s breath away.

“No! Gods, no. It's what kept me from telling you for so long. I understand if you don't want me here, but please know I felt it was the only way. I never intended to hurt either of you.”

They exchanged another glance with each other, then Lucien spoke.

“Truly, we only kept you here so willingly at first because we thought you'd be good bait if we ever caught a human woman with the treaty.” She caught a glint of mischief in Lucien's eye, the relief hitting her so squarely that she thought she might sob. “And then we realized we didn’t mind having you around.”

“So you aren't mad?” She was scared to hope. Could she tell them everything and still keep them in her life? They seemed okay with things so far. Would that change when she told them exactly who her intended was?

“We can move past it,” Lucien readily supplied with a smile, but Tamlin held her gaze.

“There's something else, isn't there?” He’d seen the way she reacted in his mind about Rhys. Seen how she’d cried on the steps. There was no way he didn't know, and there was no more time for secrets anyway.

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.

“What is it?”

“I didn't realize until recently, until I was reading the books on the courts. I knew his name but I didn't….”

Tamlin’s eyes found hers, and it was like he knew before she even opened her mouth. “No.”

“No, what?” Lucien looked between them, clearly having missed something.

“The ring around your neck. I thought I'd seen it before…” Tamlin spoke, his eyes faraway. Lucien, clearly having never noticed it, peered at her chest while she scoffed.

“Hey, eyes up–”

“It's Rhysand, isn't it? He lost his mind here because he could smell you.” Feyre nodded, feeling as though she’d possibly just wrecked the only family she’d ever truly chosen for herself.

“He isn't what you think he is,” she supplied before he could say anything else, trying to minimize the blow of the information she’d just dropped on them.

“My family is dead because of him, Feyre.”

“And his because of you, right?” There was no bite to her words, no venom, and she spoke then softly, but she may as well have punched Tamlin in the face for the way he looked at her. Hurt, then betrayal, then rage crossed his face in the flash of a second. She tried to explain, but Tamlin was already shifting with an inhuman roar, the great beast unleashing and tearing off across the steps of the manor and to the woods.

Feyre and Lucien let the silence sit between them for a few minutes.

“If what you say is true then he's a convincing actor.” Lucien didn’t bother hiding the distaste in his voice, refusing to even look at Feyre as he spoke.

Her emotions were warring. The need to defend Rhys was roaring within her, a writhing, unfamiliar thing that felt like she’d swallowed a beast. But the ache of Lucien treating her so coldly when she’d come to care for him so much easily tempered the edges off her fury. She knew she deserved this for keeping the truth from them, but it hurt.

“What if he has to be? You're the only ones not….there…right? If he's been there for fifty years? Can you imagine what he's had to sacrifice?” Lucien looked at her incredulously.

“Do you know anything about him?” He stood up to walk back inside, clearly angry and frustrated and done with the conversation.

She thought about it. Did she? The amount of time they'd actually spent together was laughably small. Perhaps she didn't know him as well as she'd thought. Gods, what if she'd made a mistake?

But that feeling inside her, that glowing well where her magic rested within her chest seemed to vibrate even at the suggestion. Her very instincts roared in offense that she'd even suggest such a thing.

No. She did know Rhys. She couldn’t explain it, but she was sure she knew him better, arguably, than anyone else. Somehow, she saw the parts of him that he did not allow others. She felt it when their magic tugged and pulled and wanted to play together. She was his, but he was hers, too.

“Just consider, Lucien, that maybe you don't know the real him.” Lucien scoffed, dismissing her, and that beast within roared again. She leashed it with all the willpower that she had. He didn’t look back at her, his focus squarely on the house in front of him.

“They call him her whore, you know.” It was the cruelest and coldest she’d ever heard his voice. A barb meant to harm.

All the blood in Feyre's veins slammed to a halt, the air whooshing from her lungs.

She couldn’t stop her breathless “What?” and Lucien laughed mirthlessly.

“They call him her whore. When he is in her court, he is warming her bed. He's doing her bidding.”

No sounds came from Feyre. There were no words for Lucien on her tongue. He kept his back turned to her, only turning his head slightly to look coldly back at her.

“I just thought you should know that.”

The words tore through her, and she remembered the pain and aching on Rhys’s face. The bone deep exhaustion was so clear and obvious to her, and the heartbreak she felt at knowing what he endured there was enough to bring a sharp burn of tears back to her eyes. Not for herself, for this new information, but for Rhys. For the pain and suffering he had been through–was still going through.

In my current home, I am unable to make any propositions, and it would kill me to make you a promise I couldn’t fulfill. You deserve more than that. More than me.

She remembered the way he’d said the words that night, the way he’d openly dropped that mask of cocky confidence for the first time. She remembered how shocked he’d seemed when she offered to wait, not just for marriage, but for him.

She was certain that if he was prostrating himself to that evil woman that there was a reason–something that he was sacrificing for. Had anyone ever sacrificed for him?

“He isn't some demon, Lucien. He could have taken me if he was. He'd never hurt me.” Lucien did not respond. “Consider that he might need saving just as much as everyone else.” Her words were soft, no bite left in them past what she hoped was the appeal of her honest belief.

Lucien didn't speak or turn, he simply walked back inside and closed the door behind him.

+++

Feyre sat curled in the deck chair for what felt like hours, watching the sun sink and the colors change in the sky. When the stars began to come to life, she saw Tamlin appear on the forest edge, walking back to the house in his human form. He looked ruffled, haggard, his clothes torn and his hair windswept and full of brambles. He didn't stop to sit with her, and she didn't ask him to, but as he passed she spoke.

“I'm sorry.” She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes trained on the distant horizon, the words not being ones that had ever come easily to her. She hated admitting she was wrong. She’d usually fight tooth and nail to place blame elsewhere at every opportunity, but she knew she’d been the one in the wrong here. She’d lied, hidden the truth from her friends, and they both had absolutely every right to be furious with her. They would be well within reason to tell her to leave.

He stopped next to her, a deep sigh wringing out of his lungs.

“I don't know what to tell you, Feyre.” His voice was hoarse, and she winced wondering if it was from roaring his dissent towards the skies.

“Lucien told me plenty.” She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice, even if she deserved it.

She’d been sitting here for hours trying not to dwell on what manner of horrors Rhys had experienced in the last fifty years, why he'd looked so emotional when she’d told him she would wait. He likely thought he’d never be free–likely knew the promise he made to her would never come to fruition. She’d die a human before he ever saw freedom again. She rubbed her eyes.

“He is...he's not good, Feyre. You are smart and strong and stubborn and many things, but mostly you are good.”

She still didn't meet his eyes, not sure where her warring emotions would take her if she did. She knew nothing she said would erase the history between the males; nothing she could tell him would make Tamlin feel any less for him.

“He's good, too. I know he is.”

He didn't speak, but he didn't move either. She wasn't sure if he was looking for the words or deciding if he should say them. She beat him to it.

“Do you love her, Tam?” She could see his shoulders release a bit, his whole body deflating as he sank to sit on the arm of the chair next to hers.

“No,” he said finally. “I could, one day, maybe. I care for her, even when she grates against my nerves. But no.” She did look at him then, and she was struck by how incredibly sad he looked. “Heart of stone, remember?” He thunked a broad hand over his chest, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared. They’d joked about it before, but something in his eyes felt serious this time.

“Then what would be the point?” Feyre shifted in her chair to watch him while he answered. After everything, he deserved her full attention, at least.

He closed his eyes, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “She only has to love me. That’s the bargain. Bargain’s are tricky things–all about the wording.”

She nodded. Holding the silence for a few moments as the crickets and cicadas’ swelling song filled the air around them.

“I’m not asking you to storm her court and save him yourself. I'm not even asking you to forgive him for your past. All I am asking is you both try to remember we've all had to make choices and sacrifices. I'm only asking you to remember things aren't always what they seem. For me.” She stroked that leather band on her wrist again, wondering if they’d ever have that level of trust, of friendship, between them again, and her heart twisted.

Tamlin sighed again, but nodded, looking back out over the woods.

Feyre rose, the creaking in her too-still joints audible in her ears, and left Tamlin sitting out on the porch alone.

+++

When she got back to her room, Calla was already there sitting on the bed.

“They’re sending me home.” Feyre was exhausted, the hope actively dying in her chest like a death knell. But deep down, she knew they couldn't depend on Calla like some sort of sacrificial lamb. She was a human, another person Feyre had come to care for. If there was no chance of her breaking the curse, keeping her here risked her life. She was brash at times, but Feyre had warmed to her. She wondered, not for the first time, if this was how her own older sisters might have seen her too.

“It’s for your safety, Calla.”

“I don’t want to go back.” Feyre came and sat next to her on the bed. Calla’s face was streaked with drying tears. Feyre was looking at their last hope for salvation–the only one who could break the curse and free everyone from Amarantha. Keep them from having to bring themselves under the mountain and making Feyre find another way to use her limited powers against the female who had captured every high lord. She tried not to react, but that panic was rising in her chest again. How would she ever manage such a thing?

She felt as though she were losing hope, plummeting to her imminent death with nothing left to stop it.

Maybe it wasn’t too late. She needed Calla to love him. She needed to keep that hope alive.

“Do you love him?”

Calla’s eyes looked tired and guilty. “I don't know.”

Feyre didn’t respond right away. Her brain and emotions were warring and she felt as though she were being torn in too. Was it selfish to want that chance? Was it testing fate to push it, even when her empathy begged her to let Calla go? It truly was too much pressure to place on Calla, too much to ask, especially when Tamlin didn’t even feel the same. How could they expect all this of her?

“What is it like?” The question shocked Feyre and left her unsure of how to respond.

What was it like? As cliche as it sounded, what she had with Rhys felt like more; it had since the beginning.

“Well, it’s hard to describe. When I think of him, I am excited for the future. It doesn’t feel so open and frightening. It seems thrilling–the promise of things to come with him.” She paused, remembering that list of all she knew and loved about him. “He consumes my thoughts, but in a way that brings light to my days. I ache to know every single thing about him; I feel hopeful about spending the rest of my life doing so. Every single day, he is my first thought in the morning and my last at night. The feelings that I have for him are so overwhelming and wonderful that sometimes they don’t even feel like my own–like I can’t even keep track because everything I feel for him, I feel so deeply. It all caught me off guard.” She chuckled a bit. “I know it sounds silly–” She stopped short, turning back to Calla and finding tears rolling down her face and an awestruck look in her eyes.

She shook her head sadly, a rueful smile on her lips. “Then, no. I do not love Tamlin.”

This had not been Feyre’s aim. She had gone too far and it had produced the opposite effect.

“Calla, it’s not the same for everyone…”

“I might, one day. I could.” The same answer that Tamlin had given, and it somehow made this a million times worse. Had they found her sooner, had they had more time, it could have become more on its own. They could have broken the curse and found the love they deserved. How could they be so close, and still have fallen short? “But if they send me away I’ll never know.”

Feyre knew that If Tamlin had already made up his mind, there was no talking him into letting her stay.

“I am sorry. Calla.” Sorry for her, sorry for them, sorry for everyone who was losing this last chance before it had even begun. Calla got off the bed, wiping her tears with the back of her wrist and heading to the door.

“Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Calla.”

That night, Feyre laid in bed alone, thinking about everything that had been said while she tested her magic halfheartedly. She took the ring off the chain around her neck and slipped it onto her ring finger. It was much too large, the ring meant for the hand of a male. She took it in her hands and willed her magic to shift it down, small enough to fit snugly on the finger meant for a betrothal an oath. It looked right there, the stone still reflecting the night sky, but smaller and more delicate now.

What would things look like when time ran out? When the curse wasn’t broken? Would Tamlin and Lucien be summoned under the mountain? Killed? What would become of Rhys, forced to warm that nightmare's bed to keep people safe?

They were sending their singular last hope away. Should she go, too?

She couldn’t; the thought didn’t even last a moment.

She wouldn’t abandon Rhys, or Lucien or Tamlin for that matter, not after she’d come here and learned so much. She could never go back to that life she knew before; it wouldn’t be worth it.

She would stay here and go beneath the mountain with them when called, no matter what they’d say. She’d shapeshift into more fae features, find Rhys, and at least she would be with him if she were to die. They would get their time together, even if it would be miserably and unfairly cut short.

He’d be furious with her for what she’d done–for the risk she’d taken and failed at.

She crawled into bed that night feeling more miserable than she could remember, more hopeless than ever as she cradled the hand with the ring to her heart and fell into a fitful sleep.

+++

The dawn rose red as blood over the horizon the following day, the colors bleeding out into the sky like a portent of things to come. Tamlin had been called to the border again early that morning and was still gone, allowing Calla another day at the manor before they sent her home for good. The mood was dour, Calla refusing to leave her room for almost the entire day, Lucien holed up in his study, and Feyre left to her own devices to wallow about her next steps.

She skipped breakfast, still not sure she wanted to see anything, and brought the rest of the court books back to the library. She spent the whole morning there reading more about Rhys and his family until her tired eyes blurred.

Things were tense with Lucien at lunch when she finally risked her presence, but Feyre pushed the last apple tart towards him wordlessly at the end. Her heart warmed when she saw a small smirk twitch on his lips, though he still hadn’t spoken to her, and he did not join her on the porch as the afternoon sun sunk down into the trees.

When evening fell and Tamlin returned, Feyre pretended to not see Calla waiting for him at the stairs, going up with him and taking the hallway to his rooms instead of hers. The hope may be dead, but Feyre supposed there was no reason they couldn’t at least enjoy the small feelings they’d let bloom for one another before they said goodbye.

When Feyre finally slept, she woke quietly with a presence at her back. It wasn’t a harsh awareness like when they’d slammed together the last time, but a peaceful, slow awakening, his hand drawing circles down her side, pulling goosebumps from her flesh in the comfort of a dim room. She could see a massive set of windows, but they weren’t on the open mountaintop palace where she usually saw him. She could see a river in the low light outside, winding slowly through what appeared to be a city. They were surrounded by mountains whose peaks danced amongst the stars, the view breathtaking even from below. The silk sheets were smooth beneath her naked body and the comfort of the room thrummed notably in around her while his mouth found her neck and pressed a kiss to it. She couldn’t explain it, but this felt like home.

She turned to face him, his exquisite, lovely eyes taking her in. He looked ruffled by sleep, hair tousled and eyes hooded–a small smile on his face as he looked at her. She supposed there was no point pretending anymore.

“Where are you, Feyre?” His voice was rough with sleep, the deep tumble of it making her shiver.

“Rhys,” she whispered, her hands coming up to touch his face. “I know what you are, who you are, High Lord.” He pulled back as though he’d been hit with an arrow, a look of fear in his eyes and the terrifying press of his anxiety so deep and profound that Feyre could feel it in her own chest.

Feyre simply smiled, pressing a hand to his warm, bare chest. She could feel his heart hammering like a hummingbird beneath the skin.

“You do not scare me, Rhys. You never have, and you never will.”

The vulnerability and fear in his eyes was so palpable he might as well have told her himself what it was. She could see it in his eyes, she could feel it in her heart.

“Tell me you're not in Spring.” The words were soft but pleading, a last grasp at hope that he’d already all but lost.

“I'm not going to lie to you.”

He deflated, pretty eyes slipping closed as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Why did you come here, Feyre?” He pressed a kiss to her lips and she melted into it, the warmth of him encompassing her fully.

“I came for you. I will always come for you.”

Suddenly, his eyes shot open as he pulled back, only pure, untempered fear coursing through them now.

“Run. Feyre, wake up. You have to run.”

“What?” She was taken aback by the frantic tone of his pleading; it was so unlike him.

“RUN–”

Feyre shot awake at the sound of her door being slammed out, the light flooding the room as her nightmares came to life. She could hear yelling and screaming downstairs, large crashes of things breaking and Tamlin’s loud bellow through it all.

There in the darkness, horribly and grotesquely framed by the light of the hall, was the attor.

Her eyes adjusted to the light in time to see its horrific, cruel smile, the fangs even more terrifying when they were real.

“What a delicious surprise.”

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Smosh Summer Games: ships 7

The long awaited part 7(out of 10 prob). This part contains smut(18+) and fluff and everything in-between. Im really exited about the final parts and I hope I have the time and energy to give you guys a fun video/song as a thank you for all the wonderfull support. If there's anything you really want to see in these final parts, just let me know and I will make if happen.

xxxxxx

Part 7: Welcome back to me SCREAMING

You and Damien returned to your room, still dripping from your spontaneous dive into the pool. Even though you had borrowed some towels, the water clung stubbornly to your skin and clothes. As soon as you stepped inside, you both started laughing at how soaked you were, the wet fabric making every movement a little more difficult.

"This is ridiculous," you chuckled, trying to peel off your shirt, which clung to you like a second skin. "We're the two biggest idiots ever."

Damien grinned, struggling with his own clothes. "I thought you said the glasses made me look smart?"

"No, I said they made you look sexy," you corrected, giving him a playful look. "And I have to say, the wet librarian look is really doing it for me."

Damien's eyes darkened slightly at your words, and before you knew it, he was stepping closer, his hands finally free of his drenched shirt. "Oh, really?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

As you finally managed to peel off the last of your wet clothes, you stood there, both of you in nothing but your underwear, damp hair clinging to your skin. The playful energy lingered, but there was something else too-an unspoken question hanging between you, one that neither of you seemed ready to fully address.

"I don't know how long we're going to be able to keep this a secret," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. You were still smiling, but the underlying concern was clear in your voice.

Damien sighed, his eyes searching yours for a moment, as if he was trying to gauge how serious you were. "Well, I mean, there are only two nights left, right? We can manage that."

His words made your heart sink a little, even though you tried to ignore the feeling. Only two nights left? Is that really all this is to him? You wondered, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask. Instead, you nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, you're right," you agreed, though a part of you didn't want to think about this ending. The idea that this might be temporary, that it might not mean as much to him as it did to you, made your stomach twist with uncertainty.

You tried to brush off the thought, focusing instead on the practical side of things. "I mean, what we're doing-this sort of friends-with-benefits, fuck buddy thing-should probably end when we get back. Like, we're friends, right?"

There was a brief pause, and you could see the same uncertainty reflected in Damien's eyes, but he quickly masked it with a nod. "Yeah," he said, his voice quieter now. "This probably isn't worth it in the long haul for two friends."

His words hung in the air, and you could tell neither of you fully believed them. But admitting that out loud felt too risky, too vulnerable. Instead, you both clung to the idea that this was just a temporary fling, something that could easily be left behind once the trip was over.

You shared a small, almost hesitant smile, and then turned your attention to getting dressed. As you slipped into fresh clothes, you couldn't help but glance at Damien, wondering what he was really thinking.

Once you were both dressed, you looked at him, trying to sound casual. "Ready to go up?"

He hesitated, running a hand through his damp hair. "You go ahead. I'll hang back for a bit."

You nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show on your face. "Okay," you said, managing a small smile. "I'll see you up there."

As you left the room and headed toward the lounge, your thoughts were a jumbled mess. You needed to talk to someone about this, someone who could help you make sense of it all. And that someone was Courtney.

When you arrived at the lounge, you found Courtney chatting with Arasha. The moment she saw you, her eyes lit up, and you could tell she was already curious about what had been going on.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. "Can I borrow you for a sec?"

Courtney raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Sure," she said, following you out of the lounge. As you passed by Arasha, she gave you a suspicious, almost knowing look, but didn't say anything.

Once you were a little ways down the hallway, out of earshot of everyone else, Courtney turned to you with a grin. "Okay, spill. What's going on?"

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. "So, don't freak out, okay?"

Courtney's grin only widened. "I never do."

You glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then blurted out, "We had sex."

Her eyes went wide, and for a moment, she just stared at you in shock. "Oh my god, shut the fuck up! You had sex? Like, sex sex? With Damien?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. "Yeah, with Damien."

Courtney let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. "I knew it! I freaking knew it! You two have been all over each other this whole trip. Tell me everything!"

You couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, some of your tension easing. "There's not much to tell. It just... happened."

"Oh, please," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "You can't just 'it just happened' me! How was it? Was it amazing? Was he good?"

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you couldn't stop the smile spreading across your face. "It was... really good."

Courtney let out a squeal of excitement. "I knew it! I just knew it! You two have so much chemistry, it was only a matter of time. So, what now? Are you guys, like, a thing?"

You hesitated, the reality of the situation crashing back down on you. "I don't know. We said it's just for the trip, but..."

"But?" Courtney prompted, leaning in closer.

"But I don't know if I want that," you admitted, finally voicing the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind all morning.

Courtney gave you a sympathetic look, her earlier excitement softening into something more understanding. "Hey, whatever happens, just know I'm here for you, okay? Whether it's just a fling or something more, I've got your back."

"Thanks, Court," you said, feeling a little better after talking to her, " and Thanks for not freaking out."

"No problem," she said with a grin. "And seriously, if you need anything,  you know where to find me."

As you both headed back toward the lounge, you couldn't help but feel a little lighter. There were still so many unanswered questions, but at least you had someone to talk it over with now.

Entering, you noticed the room was abuzz with energy. Damien was now standing among the group. He caught your eye, and a friendly smirk crossed his face. Spencer stood at the front, holding the bowl of ice with a wicked grin as you all gathered and the cameras started recordning. "Alright, everyone, welcome to Netflix and Chill, the game where I give you the world's worst movie descriptions, and you have to guess what movie I'm talking about. Guess it right, and you're safe. Guess it wrong, and, well... you're about to get real friendly with some ice cubes. And since this is the Smosh Summer Games edition, all the movies are ocean or ship-themed!"

The teams cheered, and you caught Damien's eye as he leaned in and whispered, "Think we'll make it through this without freezing?"

You smirked. "If Shayne doesn't blow it for us."

Shayne, overhearing, gave a dramatic gasp. "Hey! Just because I always lose..."

Courtney patted Shayne's shoulder. "It's okay, buddy. Maybe today's the day."

Spencer pulled out the first description, reading aloud: "Alright, first one: 'A man witnesses his wife die, and his son gets disabled after a brutal attack. Years later, his son is kidnapped, and he has to travel across the ocean with a bunch of strangers to find him.'"

Shayne's eyes widened, and he jumped up with enthusiasm. "Oh! Finding Nemo! Oh my god, I actually got one right!" His celebration was over the top as he danced around, high-fiving everyone on the Peg-Leggers.

Courtney laughed. "Miracles do happen."

Spencer gave Shayne a sarcastic slow clap. "Alright, Shayne got it. Next up, for the Seamen: 'A bureaucrat ruins a peaceful summer vacation by getting a bunch of people eaten on a holiday weekend.'"

Keith blinked, looking lost. "Uh... Jaws?"

"Correct!" Spencer grinned, and the Seamen cheered loudly as Keith did a small victory dance, clearly proud.

Next, it was your turn. Spencer's mischievous smile set off a wave of nerves. "Okay, Y/N, let's see if you get this one: 'A cheating woman narrowly escapes punishment, but every man in her life dies. Oh, and she destroys an irreplaceable treasure on her way out.'"

You couldn't help but grin. "That's Titanic!"

Damien gave you a congratulatory nudge as the Peg-Leggers erupted in cheers, and you flashed a smile back at him. "Still no ice for us."

Spencer carried on with another description. "Alright, Seamen, your turn: 'A bunch of tourists go on a cruise, but the captain loses his glasses and accidentally lands them on the worst island ever. Dinosaurs may or may not be involved.'"

Angela thought hard before blurting, "Jurassic Park: The Lost World?"

"Correct again!" Spencer declared, and the Seamen team cheered loudly, Noah wiping his brow in relief as Trevor shouted, "Saved by the dinosaurs!"

More rounds continued with everyone taking their turns, laughter filling the room as ice cubes were poured into pants after wrong guesses. The Peg-Leggers celebrated every win with high energy, cheering and teasing each other along the way. Shayne, still hyped from his early success, declared, "we're on a roll!"

When the final round came, both teams were tied, and Spencer set the stage for the deciding moment. "Okay, Peg-Leggers, here's your last chance: 'A bunch of people dance on a sinking boat, but there's a lot of singing, and it's not actually sinking—it's floating underwater with a crab playing the drums.'"

You and Damien exchanged a look, both of you thinking hard. Before you could say anything, Courtney guessed, "The Little Mermaid?"

"YES!" Spencer yelled, and your entire team burst into wild celebration. 

Ian and Anthony stepped forward with the scoreboard, and Ian announced dramatically, "And with that win, the Peg-Leggers bring it to a tie! The Summer Games score is now 2-2!"

Without thinking, you jumped into Damien's arms, and he caught you mid-air, spinning you around as your laughter echoed through the room. But as you pulled away, you realized everyone was staring. Shayne and Courtney exchanged knowing smirks, while Arasha just gave you a raised eyebrow, looking like she knew way more than you thought.

Trying to play it off, you both laughed awkwardly, but the tension between you lingered.

The dining area was alive with chatter and laughter as everyone settled in for dinner. Plates were piled high with food, and the conversation flowed as freely as the drinks. As the day wound down, the atmosphere on the ship was light and playful. Plates were cleared and everyone relaxed, enjoying the end of a lively day.

Ian, served the last of the food with a flourish. "Okay, last call for seconds! Don't be shy, we've got plenty."

"Or at least, I hope so," Courtney teased, grabbing a generous helping. "We don't want another 'experiment' gone wrong."

Shayne laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, we don't need any more culinary disasters."

Amanda, slightly tipsy, clinked her glass with Trevor's. "Here's to me not making any more smoothies!"

Trevor grinned, nodding in agreement. "And me not being covered in fruit anymore."

Tommy leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, it was you Amanda?"

Amanda rolled her eyes but smiled. "Yeah okay I ruined Trevors look but I'm not responseble for whatever happend to Spencers robe ."

Arasha, cut in. "So we have one accidental and one premeditated fashion assasination."

The group burst into laughter, remembering Spencer's latest costume debacle. "Oh, please," Chanse said, rolling his eyes. "I don't even want to talk about that robe."

"Hey, it's a bold fashion statement," Spencer defended, walking in with a mock-serious expression. "And clearly, everyone loves it."

Amanda leaned over to Shayne, "So hot"

As the lively dinner conversation continued, Damien leaned in close to you, his voice a low murmur. "How about we step outside for a bit? Get some fresh air?"

You glanced around the cabin, catching the eye of the others who were deep in conversation or laughing over a shared joke. "Sounds perfect," you agreed, smiling up at him.

Standing up, you both addressed the group. "We're going to head out for a bit," you said, your tone cheerful. "Just need some fresh air. We'll be back soon."

"No worries," Shayne called out, waving a hand casually. "Enjoy the night!"

Amanda gave a thumbs-up. "Catch you later!"

With one last glance around, you and Damien made your way to the deck, ready to enjoy the quiet night air together. The chatter of your friends gradually faded as you and damien stepped out on the deck, leaving you both alone under the stars.

You leaned against the railing, taking in the gentle sway of the boat and the shimmering reflections on the water. The night air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the heat from earlier in the day. Damien joined you at the railing, his presence both comforting and bittersweet.

"It's hard to believe this might be the last night we have together like this," you said, looking out at the endless expanse of water.

Damien nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, with the wrap party tomorrow, it feels like everything is winding down."

There was a pause, and you thought you could sense the unspoken emotions between you. "I'm really glad we had this time," you said softly. "It's been... memorable."

Damien's gaze met yours, a small, sad smile on his lips. "Yeah, it has. I've enjoyed every moment , lover."

The boat rocked gently, and the sounds of the night seemed to create a cocoon around the two of you. Damien reached out and took your hand, his touch was warm and reassuring. "How about we make the most of tonight?"

You squeezed his hand, feeling a mixture of exitment and melancholy. "I'd like that, lover."

As you re-entered the diningroom, you saw that the group was still scattered around, some engaged in quiet conversations and others winding down.

"Hey everyone," you called out, drawing a few sleepy smiles. "We're heading to bed. Goodnight!"

Damien echoed your sentiment with a warm smile. "Goodnight, all. See you in the morning."

Courtney, with a playful grin, raised her glass. "Sweet dreams, you two!"

Tommy nodded, stretching. "Yeah, have a good one. We'll hold down the fort."

The others offered their goodnights as you and Damien made your way to your room, the intimate atmosphere of the night drawing you closer. The door closed behind you, and the quiet of the cabin enveloped you both. You glanced at each other, a shared understanding passing between you.

Damien pulled you gently into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss. The kiss deepened, and you both felt the intensity of the moment, knowing it might be your last night together in this way. The passion between you grew, each touch and caress speaking of the connection you had forged over the trip.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that felt almost unsettling, as if he could see right through you. You felt exposed, as though he could read your deepest thoughts, yet you couldn't pull away. His eyes spoke volumes, and you could sense how your own gaze was just as compelling for him. His hands traced your thighs softly, moving up to your hips and drawing you closer.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled softly, his hands caressing your thighs gently. "Because you're captivating," he murmured.

His hands moved up over your hips, pulling you closer. He slowly lifted one hand, trailing it over your stomach, grazing past one breast, and continuing up to your neck. His fingertips traced lightly along your neck, moving to the back of your head. He took a firm grip behind your neck, drawing you closer, letting his lips barely brush against yours.

"Damien..." you breathed, feeling his warm breath on your skin.

You felt his breath on your skin as he slowly moved his lips along your jaw, kissing your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. His tongue explored your neck, moving down to your shoulders and then back up again. Your clothes pratically falling of off your body as you kissed again. Your hands moved over to remove his clothes while your eyes met him, and a healy breth escaped your lips.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You responded with a soft sigh, leaning into his touch. "I've missed this," you whispered.

He nipped gently at your neck, his breathing heavier than before. You felt him start to explore more confidently, his touch becoming more deliberate. He moved his hand down over your stomach, past your waist, and you could feel his excitement growing.

"I want to make this night unforgettable," he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and desire.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a mix of anticipation and longing. "It will be," you whispered back, your heart racing with the weight of this being your last time together like this.

Damien's touch was electric, each caress a testament to his desire and care. He guided you gently onto the bed, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart race. You could feel the heat of his body radiating, as his fingers traced a path of fire along your skin.

He looked at you, his gaze unwavering, as he helped you position yourself above him. "So, one last time?" he asked, his voice low and thick with anticipation. His breath was warm against your ear, making you shiver with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

You nodded, your voice a breathy whisper. "Yes, Damien. I need you."

His hands moved with a slow, deliberate grace as he guided you onto him. You could feel the growing pressure of his arousal pressing against your core, the anticipation almost unbearable. With a deep breath, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his thickness stretching you out making you gasp.

Damien's eyes were locked onto yours, a look of awe and admiration in his gaze as he felt you envelop him. His hands rested on your hips, guiding you gently as you began to move. "You feel incredible," he murmured, his voice laced with a mix of wonder and desire. "This is perfect."

The sensation of him inside you was intense, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel yourself tightening around him with every movement, the fullness and stretch making you moan with a mix of pleasure and relief. Damien's grip on your hips was firm but gentle, his hands guiding you as you rode him with increasing urgency.

His touch was tender yet insistent, his fingers caressing your back as he pulled you closer to him. His lips brushed against your neck, each kiss a promise of the passion that still burned between you. "I want you so much," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll never forget how good you feel around  me."

The intensity of his thrusts and the pressure of his body against yours made you feel almost overwhelmed. You bit down on his shoulder, trying to stifle the cries that threatened to escape. Every thrust, every touch was a delicate dance between pleasure and desperation, and you could feel the overwhelming pleasure building inside you.

Damien's movements were steady and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. "Fuck, You're doing so good," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I wish I could hear you scream for me."

The urgency in his voice only heightened your pleasure. Each thrust made you clench around him, your moans growing louder and more desperate. The overwhelming sensation made it hard to think, your body driven by a primal need that left you gasping and trembling. "I'm gonna cum Damien, I can't.." you managed to get out.

As you neared your climax, Damien's gaze locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. "Look at me please," he urged, his voice both tender and commanding. "I want to see you come apart for me. Don't hide from me."

You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze through the haze of pleasure. His eyes were filled with a desperate longing that mirrored your own, a connection so profound it left you breathless. His hands cupped your face, guiding your eyes to his as he continued to thrust into you with a steady rhythm.

The wave of pleasure finally crashed over you, your body tightening and trembling as you reached the peak and his name left you lips. The moans that escaped you were raw and unrestrained, your entire being consumed by the intensity of the moment. Damien's grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with a final, desperate fervor, his own release following closely behind.

In the aftermath, you both lay there, breathless and sated. Damien's fingers gently caressed your back, his touch soft and tender as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. His eyes were filled with a mix of satisfaction and affection, the intensity of the night reflected in every touch and kiss.

"Wow, well I'll never forget this," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper against your skin.

You smiled, your heart full and content. "I couldn't if I tried," you whispered back, before the relaization hit that you'd never be this close to him again.

You looked up at Damien, "Do you think we can have another last time tonight?"

He shuckled, " give me a minute, okay"

You smiled at him before resting your head on his chest, "I'll give you two."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drawn Together 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your phone rings, shaking you from your trance. You haven't moved since you locked the door and ran upstairs. You sit on the sofa, one leg hooked tightly over the other as you bite your cheek and twine your hands around your knee.

You pry your fingers apart and stand. Each step is shaky and unsure. A branch brushes the window and you flinch, turning to gape at the pane. You watch the leaves wave in the breeze. The phone quiets as it rolls to voicemail.

The lull is brief as it once more begins to chime and you rush to grab it from beside the radio. You answer in a quaver, barely able to get your words out.

"Hello?"

"Hi," a lilted accent flows through the line.

"Hello, Marguerite," you reply, "how are you?"

"Yes, uh, I would like to let you know that Henri will not be attending his lesson tonight."

"No? I hope everything is okay," you toy with the edge of the doily beneath the retro radio.

"Oui, very okay," she drones, "it is only an unexpected circumstance. You take care, mademoiselle."

"I wi–"

The line clicks before you can finish. You have a bad feeling. That's so odd. Another blank space in the ledger.

You shake your head and curl your fingers around the phone as you pace. You hope it's just a coincidence.

You're jittery and you just can't stay still. You can still hear the way his voice sunk low. His words jumble together but his timbre remains, haunting your mind.

Your phone pings and an email bubbles up. Someone has reviewed your posting. You open your inbox and click on the link.

'Paid for lessons. Turned away due to discrimination. DO NOT PAY THIS SCAMMER.'

There is no name, just 'anonymous.' Oh, this is why you hate the internet. It's too much drama.

You know it's him. What you don't expect is the next comment.

'Very disappointed to hear. I will be discontinuing my son's attendance at once.'

You feel breathless as you lean on the table and place the phone flat. You drag your finger down as a new comment appears.

'My son was unable to attend his lesson today as there was a strange man hanging around screaming. The teacher does not provide a kid-safe environment. Do not bring your children here.'

Caroline at least has the nerve to sign her name. You don't understand. They know you. They know they can trust you.

She saw this crazy man and her reaction is to blame you. Typical. It's just like college. Just like that time. The incident you don't think about.

You login and go to your settings. You close the posting, not wanting any more rancor. You don't know what you're going to do. Go to the bank and talk to someone about your savings. You held onto your inheritance for a reason, right?

You leave your phone on the table and stride through the archway to the music room. You graze your fingers over the ivory keys before shutting the lid. No music today. You couldn't play if you tried.

You wish your grandfather was here to tell you what to do. To say in his gentle tone that it'll be okay. But you don't think it will be.

🎹

It's midnight. The old hanging clock ticks on the wall as you lay in silence, the fan blowing over you in the night's damp warmth. Rain falls but not hard enough to take the thickness from the air, only stirring it further.

You keep a sheet across your body, pulled over your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. You can't sleep. Usually you fall asleep before ten but tonight, you just can't close your eyes.

The scratching of the branch on the window keeps you alert, every creak, every groan of the walk up has you on edge. The hum of the fridge, the drone of the pipes, all those familiar are suddenly frightful.

You exhale and twiddle your fingers against your stomach. You aren't going to sleep. You know it.

You sit up and rub your forehead. Camomile. That always helps. You remember how your grandfather had a cup each night. You kept a package around just for the memory.

You get up and tug the cotton gown away from your figure as it clings to your sweat. Your steps creak down the hallway and you emerge in the shadows of the music room, a darkness clustering beyond the stairs. An eerie tingle crawls up your arms.

You stop as you notice the curtains pushed to the very edge of the rod. You closed that window, you’re sure of it. Just like every night, you went over your routine.

Windows, door, everything locked up tight, except for the bedroom. You kept the pane halfway up, no more, no less. Just enough to let in the air.

You tiptoe over and look outside. You see the tree looming and hear the crickets. There's nothing, no one there.You pull down the frame and flip the latch.

You stay there for just a minute and watch the moonlight flicker through the foliage. It's getting to you. You're forgetting things. Important things.

You back away and go into the kitchen. As you enter, there's a click. You peer around, turning slowly in place. You flick on the light above, the bulb casting amber through the glass shade.

You see nothing but what you expect. The silver fridge, the brown counters, the pantry door, and the small square table with its for handbuilt chairs. You go to the stove and put the kettle onto the burner as you crank the knob.

You stand at the stove and wait. The anxiety winds inside your stomach as you pick at your nail and bite your cheeks. What can you do? You can hand out flyers? Maybe find a different place to post?

Ugh it's all such a mess and because of him. A stranger! You don't know him. Why does he care so much?

You hate to judge someone by their looks but you should've known from the start he was trouble. You did, you just didn't want to accept that. You didn't want to have a mean thought.

The kettle begins to shake and you watch the steam plume from the spout. You remove it to keep it from whistling and you take out a cup and packet of tea. The simple steps ease your addled nerves.

You pour the hot water over to steep the bag and retreat with your cup to the table. You sit and tap your fingers on the trim of the placemat. The old woven things fray along the edge, the embroidered berries fading into the grey.

You drop your head into your hands and sigh. Maybe you need a break. Dip into your nest egg and figure things out.

You prefer monotony but life doesn't go according to plan. That's the sole lesson you took from your grandfather's death. Nothing lasts forever.

This won't either, right?

🎹

You're awakened by a crash. You sit up and let out a gritty yelp. You roll out of bed, tangled in the sheets and off balance.

It's still dark out. You barely remember going back to bed. Your head is fuzzy and your lashes crusty from the depth of your slumber.

You let the sheet drape down to the floor as you stumble to the doorway. You notice the flowers on the floor, the vase in pieces in a puddle of water. The window is open again.

You rush over and shove down the window without a thought to the shards at your feet. You lock it and stagger away, narrowly missing the glass with your sole. You turn, squinting in the dark as you find your way back to the kitchen.

The pantry door is open. You swallow as you turn on the light again, bracing yourself for some villain to emerge. The glow reveals no monster waiting among the dry goods.

You go forward to slam the door shut. You lean on it and peek at the small clock that ticks above a vintage barometer. It's barely 2am.

Your heart pumps loudly as you go to the table where your empty cup still sits. You must've forgotten to take it to the sink. You pick it up and an unexpected weight lingers at the bottom.

You peer past the brim and see the item inside. The crumpled head of a poppy. It seems one of those left in the road in Steve's anger. But how did it get there?

Is this a dream? If it is, why can't you wake up.