#i cant believe shes gone i keep seeing her out of the corner of my eye

[jemcore]

need to sleep because i've now been awake for more than 36 hours but every time i close my eyes i just see cleo choking on her own vomit

[deangirlsstuff67]

Birthday Boy

Jensen Ackles x reader

Warnings: Drinking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (m and f receiving), Squirting, Dirty talk

Summary: Jensen has given up on finding his happily ever after. Now that he's 45 he just doesn't see the point anymore. Jared, Misha, and the SPN cast take him out on the town to celebrate and lift his spirits. That's when he looks eyes with a beautiful woman. After one too many whiskeys they go back to his place, where he learns age is only a number.

Authors note: I love Jensen and his family. I mean them no disrespect. This is set in set in a world where Jensen is single. This is a work of fiction for nothing more than entertainment.

Masterlist | Patreon

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We walk into a bar that Jared and I found when we first came to Vancover for season one. The small, dingy, dive bar is a hidden gem that we have visited many times. Whether it was marriage, divorce, birthdays, or deaths, these four walls hold many memories for the supernatural cast and crew.

The group of us find a couple empty tables and take a seat. A lovely blonde waitress makes her way over for our drink order. Tonight we are celebrating my 45th birthday.

Getting older isnt as bad as your younger self believes. It's like a prize for surviving all the bullshit of your 20s. You no longer care what people think of you. You can go to bed early if you want without being judged. And you make the transition from hot and sexy, to handsome and distinguished.

I can't complain.

The blonde makes her way back with a tray of our drinks. Tonight we have Jared, Misha, Rob, Rich, Kim, Brianna, Mark, and Ruth with us.

She hands me my whiskey double. A sexy, flirty smile lights up her face for the brief moment we lock eyes so I can thank you. I smile politely back at the young lady. Seriously, I could be her dad.

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Three whiskey doubles in, laughs and smiles floating around our table, I got to say this has turned out to be a good night. Jared leans over and speaks directly in my ear so I can hear over the music coming from the speakers, "dont look now but you got a y/h/c who cant keep her eyes away from you."

Great, cue eye roll. Women have been nothing but problematic for me. They either want fame, money, connections, or someone I know. I've given up in that department.

Way too old for that shit.

"It's not going to kill you to have a look man." Jared sighs dramatically at me.

"You never know, it might." But it's too late my interest is peaked. I'm a sucker for a y/h/c. I slowly scan the bar until I lock eyes with the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Well shit.

She's younger than me, though I don't know by how much. Casually dressed in blue jeans that hug her curves perfect and a over sized ACDC t-shirt tucked into all the right places. She simple smiles and raises her glass of amber liquor in a silent toast.

I can feel the corners of my lips curve as I toast her back. Then as quickly as the moment settled between us, it was gone and she took her friends arm as they walked out the front doors.

Dammit.

"Man I'm sorry," Misha looks over at me, "she looked interested."

Rich comes to sit on our side of the table, "ĥows the birthday boy doing?"

"Thought he was ging to get lucky tonight, but she left." Jared whisper yells. I can't stop the eye roll, the more he drinks the more of a man child he becomes.

This bit of information intrigues Rich, "you meanthe pretty y/h/c that’s walked back in?" He says with a sly smirk resting on his face.

We all watch as she glides up to the bar to speak with the young man playing bartender tonight. I can't tear my eyes away from her or how her hips sway with every step. She's a work of art. Curves in all the right places, looks like she eats more than salad. I swear she's every man's wet dream come true.

She turns and smirks as she makes her way over to our table with a tray of shot glasses, a knowing look sparkling in her y/e/c eyes. I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment knowing she caught us all gawking at her.

Placing the tray down in front of the four of us, she picks up a shot and tips hers ead back to drain her glass. I watch as she swallows the liquid, swallowing down the dirty thoughts it promotes in my whiskey soaked brain.

"Happy Birthday Beautiful, now drink." She passes over a shot, which I take without hesitation. I drain the glass, the burn of vodka ever present in my throat, before finding my voice.

"How do you..."

She answer before I can finish my thought, "I'm a fan. Don’t worry it's not in a creepy stalker kind of way. I just couldnt pass up the opportunityto buy my favorite actor a shot on his birthday." She shrugs before taking another shot. There's something sexy about a woman who can hold her liquor.

"I'm y/n by the way." She turns to leave, before she can take a step I get out of my seat and wrap her in a hug, pulling her close to my chest.

Beautiful y/e/c irises stare into mine as she searches for the reason behind the embrace. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear I softly smile down at her, "I want you to stay."

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"Shit, I dropped the keys." Y/N is wrapped around my body, pressed against the door to my apartment. Trying to unlock a door while having a beautiful woman kissing down my neck is more than distracting.

After some struggle we fall into my apartment. Guiding her backwards towards my room, hitting walls along the way. We haven't stopped kissing since getting into the cab at the bar.

She's addictive. Her taste. Her smell. I need this woman.

Breaking apart she sauntered to my bed, stripping her clothes along the way. My cock is throbbing in the jeans I'm wearing, begging for me to release it.

She crawls onto my bed positioning herself in a kneeling position. Legs spread wide showing just how dripping wet she is for me. Slowly I remove my clothing, watching as she plays with herself waiting for me. My cock drips with pre cum in anticipation. Knowing just how hot and bothered I made her with limited touching gets me high.

Walking towards the bed, y/n meets me at the edge. I stare down at her as she lowers herself before locking a strip from the base of my cock to the tip. Groaning I throw my head back at the sensation.

After a few minutes of kitten licks, y/n takes me in her mouth the first go. Straight to the base and swallowing around me. My hips jerk, hands rake through her long hair as I hold on. She's blowing my freaking mind, "Darling, I'm not going to last." She swirls her tongue around the head of my shaft, it almost does me in.

"Sweetheart... y/n... you have to stop... please"

She comes off my cock with a loud 'pop', smiling up at me while wiping her mouth.

Fuck that's hot.

Pushing her in the chest I force her to lay on the bed, "my turn," kissing my way down her soft curves to her sweet spot, wet and waiting for me.

Inhaling her sweet scent, making my head spin, "you smell delicious baby girl." Then I dive in like man starved.

Alternating between broad strokes and sucking her clit. I smile I to her center as I watch the bliss out look on her face as she shakes and squirms beneath me. Whatever I was feeling about getting older has been drowned out by her moans and whimpers as I bring to the edge before backing off, over and over again.

Rising above her tasting her on my lips, I learn down taking her mouth with mine, sharing her sweetness. My fingers trail down her body before pludging into her hot, wet center. My pace is fast as I curl my fingers, finding her g spot.

Her body jerks forward as she let's out a beautifully loud moan before I feel her soaking my hand, wrist, and thighs, "fuck darling, did you just squirt?"

Pink colors her cheeks while she looks away from me. "Hey, dont be embarassed. That's the sexiest thing I've ever experienced. " I kiss her deeply as I feed my shaft into her quivering walls. What an amazing feeling that is.

Looking down I watch her body struggle to take my girth as I bottom out inside her. Staying still to allow her to adjust before I slowly withdraw to my tip and slowly sink back into her warmth. My room is filled with nothing but moans from her, groans from me, and the wet squelched noise as our bodies become one.

Our rhythm is steady as we use our bodies to bring the other pleasure with each thrust. One, two, three more thrusts and y/n is pushing me out of her before she soaks my thigh and cock in her essence again. It's what tips me over the age as I shove myself back in making her gasp before emptying myself into my own personal heaven.

Sweat covered, limbs shaking, breathe labored, I collapse beside her after pulling out. Wrapping my arms around her I bring her into my chest as we come down from our highs together.

"That was amazing darling."

"Mhm... it was" her sleepy voice whispers into my body.

I hold her as she drifts to sleep in my arms. Happiness washes over me. I don't know her but something about this woman has intertwined deep in my soul. I look down at her kissing her forehead, "I hope this becomes more... "

I close my eyes as sleep takes me.

[sinful-morningstar]

Spartober day 16 Nightmare (VerDante)

Author's Note: this is very angsty yet sweet...bittersweet? i believe is the term...anyways i felt the need for Dante to give Vergil some comfort and love yes this is spartacest..i cant write platonic dante x Vergil to save my life they always got to confess and kiss ...Other than that..Enjoy today's prompt. Prompts by whatsanapocalae1 (I use a combination of Spartober and Devil MayTober Prompts) {forgot to mention but i'm proud of myself for still going strong through these prompts despite feeling slightly uninspired and burnt out at times but i'm thoroughly enjoying this Spartober and i love these demon boys with all my heart <3 } 16: Nightmare (VerDante) Fire was blazing as smoke invaded Vergil’s nose and lungs he coughed as he ran around the house in search of someone, he wheezed holding the Yamato as he was ready to fight the intruder, he could hear a scream as he readied himself for battle.

“Mother!” he cried out to her, he could see Eva cowering in fear, her eyes widened as she saw Vergil in the corner, Vergil reached out to her unsheathing the Yamato ready to strike the demon that dared harm his mother.

She quickly stood in front of Vergil protecting him, then faded to black the sound of her body collapsing onto the floor while blood gushed out from her wounds. Eva reached back at Vergil..and that's when he woke up in a cold sweat shooting out of his bed panting as tears stung his eyes.

Footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door, Vergil curled up in on himself mirroring his past self as the images of that dreaded night ran through his head like a horror show. He sniffled gently, allowing himself to shed a few tears; he didnt realise that Dante had entered his room.

He felt a gloved hand on his bare shoulder making him flinch at the touch, Vergil looked up at Dante, his eyes puffy from crying as he glared “What do you want?!” he snapped .

Dante pulled his hand back lifting his arms up in defence “Woah, hey, watch it Verg…I was just making sure you’re okay”.he said gently.

“Leave me be Dante..” Vergil said, shaking. He sniffled once more trying to keep his cold and calm demeanour.

The younger Sparda noticed Vergil’s apprehensiveness and sighed softly realising what was going on “It’s another nightmare..isn't it?”. He said softly. His eyes fixated on Vergil.

Vergil scoffed “And so what if it is?, what do you plan to do, hmm?, your poor attempts at comfort are meaningless Dante, i wouldn't waste your breath if i were you”.

“Oh yeah? and why’s that?, still too tough to admit you need help?, why is that exactly?Why push everyone away?” Dante asked in a challenging tone showing concern but also frustration with his brother’s stubbornness ”what's the problem Vergil?”.

“You wouldnt understand…” Vergil looked away from Dante.

Dante blinked rapidly in shock, surprised by Vergil’s response “Right I wouldn't … .i have no idea what nightmares about mom are like” he said dryly and sarcastically as he folded his arms and glared at his older brother.

“H-How did you-” Vergil asked before Dante cut him off.

“I heard you cry out to her…” Dante snapped back.

“I watched her die, Dante!” Vergil said defensively.

“And i had to stay back and hear it all go down, and when i came outta that closet…you were gone..so i didn't just lose mom that day, i lost you too…and i've done nothing but lose you..over ..and over..and over, I lost you to Arkham, I lost you to Nelo angelo , I lost you to Urizen before V got you back in one piece..Literally!” Dante ranted as his voice was rough with anger and sadness.

Vergil was speechless he couldn't argue with that, while he did watch a murder in cold blood they both lost their mother they both lost their father and in the end they lost each other, countless times, and most were by his own doing; he felt immense guilt arise in his chest as he choked out a sob, he didn't know why… it felt like it had been sitting in his chest for years finally coming out his throat.

Dante wrapped an arm around him “Hey..Hey it's okay, let it out..” he said, rubbing Vergil’s back gently as he sighed “I-I’m sorry..” he said softly.

“What for? I’m the fool here, chasing after power in a blind attempt at redemption…” Vergil croaked gently as tears streamed his face.

Tilting his head gently Dante wiped away Vergil’s tears with his sleeves “ redemption?, Oh..Vergil you don't need to redeem yourself for what happened..in the end we always take down whatever shit comes our way”.

“But we couldn't stop mundus and his minions…we couldn't–” Vergil swallowed “I couldn't save mother..” Vergil said forlorn as he looked away blinking tears with a sigh.

Dante lifted his chin up “Hey…Vergil, look at me..” he said as he stared back at Vergil.

Vergil felt a lump in his throat as his eyes locked onto Dante’s, he was still quiet, his heart racing at the gesture.

“Listen..what happened to mom..no one could have prepared us for that..no one..not even Dad…” Dante said as he licked his lips nervously “we were just kids…we couldn't do anything..even if we tried..and you did try, i heard you..you tried your god damn best..you’re the best brother anyone could ask for..and one hell of a firstborn son..”.

Vergil rolled his eyes and scoffed “Dont patronise me brother…”

“I’m not…” Dante said in a genuine tone his expression was fond as he looked up at him with a weak smile. “You’re a stubborn arrogant son of a gun..but you’re still my brother..my big brother…” he took Vergil’s hand, squeezing it gently.

Vergil gave a slight smirk as he sniffled, wiping the tears away, watching as Dante took off his jacket and sat at the edge of the bed with him.

“Dante..” Vergil sighed softly as he finally calmed himself from the tears. He bit his lip before he spoke “I…I lost myself when we lost mother and father…but I never wanted to lose you too…”

“Really?” Dante asked a little unsure but he could hear the sincerity in Vergil’s voice the rare moments of vulnerability between the pair.

“Yeah…” Vergil nodded gently as their eyes met again.

Dante sighed as he moved closer to Vergil sitting right up beside him “I have to tell you something…”. His heart raced as he looked back at his twin.

Vergil brushed a strand of Dante’s hair out of his face “What is it?” he asked gently.

“I love you~” Dante said sincerely with his heart poured into every word, those three words ringing out in the bedroom, it was a confession of both brotherly and romantic love.

Blushing gently realising how close they were Vergil replied “I love you too…” he meant it every word same as Dante but to him it was more intense for him it felt like his heart was about to burst with all the pain and hardships within him alongside the newfound joy that was bittersweet as he came to the conclusion that he did in fact love him, but he knew that it was probably due to the fact they only had each other ..and they didn't at the same time..a double edged sword .

Dante leaned in closer, going in for a kiss as Vergil accepted, their lips pressed up against one another as their heart beat in unison. Vergil pulled back for a moment just a moment to process it all before going in for a deeper, more passionate kiss as he held Dante’s shoulders.

Their heads tilted as their tongues tangled for a moment , Dante’s hands ran along Vergil’s neck and through his hair pulling him closer as their kiss became more intimate. Dante pulled back with a gasp only for Vergil to pull him right back in sharing another moment before ending it.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you…” Dante confessed further “You were away for years and i didnt know what else to do…”

Vergil looked worried as he nodded understanding Dante’s words “Let’s lay down for a minute” he said as he pushed Dante down onto the bed and laid beside him.

Dante sighed softly, feeling Vergil put an arm around him resting his head against his chest.

“You’ve wanted to say that for a while now haven't you?” Vergil said in reference to his brother’s confession.

Licking his lips Dante sighed and nodded “Yeah..”

“Why..cause I broke down crying?” Vergil asked, choking up again.

“Yeah but it's not just that…” Dante said honestly.

“Then what else?” Vergil asked curiously in his voice a whisper now that they both were calm and comfortable in this moment.

“Vergil, I’ve always loved you…in every way possible…it pained me to see you do the shit you did but..I’m happy you’re back and I'm glad I have you in my arms…” Dante said as he kissed Vergil’s forehead gently.

Vergil felt tears sting his eyes as he started to cry again a mixture of sadness and happiness as he clinged onto Dante nuzzling into him.he got up holding Dante’s hand gently kissing his knuckles gently then kissed the back of his hand keeping his lips pressed against the tender flesh.

Dante pulled Vergil on top of him with a warm smile “Stay with me..maybe i can make the nightmares go away?…” he offered with a gente tone.

Vergil felt Dante’s hand caress his cheek as he kissed his brother’s palm he nodded gently “Yes..I believe having you with me will help ease the pain somewhat”.

Pulling Vergil in for a kiss Dante hummed happily running a hand through his hair messing it up making it look the way it did when they were young men. “Heh..Yeah..let’s get some rest…”

Vergil smirked as he cuddled up beside Dante happily enjoying just how close they were together, it made his heart flutter and his mind at ease.

“G'night Vergil…”

“Goodnight Dante~”

[mel-13-29]

vada cavell x reader

Talk of shooting I slight smut discretion is advised

~~ "Are you fucking kiding me right now?"

"I'm so sorry ..please"

You were furious. Angry didn't even cut it anymore. As you stood in the middle of the room, thankful your parents were gone, Vada sat on your bed looking lost and frightened. But somehow the anger you felt outweighed the need to comfort her. Right now she didn't deserve comfort.

"I get kissing Mia, hell I've kissed Mia," you watch Vada lower her head "But Quinton? you go behind my back and kiss Quinton?!"

"I'm-…. I'm sorry, y/n. didn't mean anything-"

"Then why do it?!" You scream and Vada flinches. Again you were to mad to care. "why would you kiss him? when you know we were dating?"

"I just wanted to feel something!" Vada finally snaped. Then she slapped a hand on her mouth with a gasp.

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you as you swayed back slightly. brows furrowed as you processed what she had said.

"So….so you dont feel anything with me anymore?"

"No…thats not what i meant!"

You clench your fists. "thats what it sure sounded like to me."

Vada stood up, Now she was angry. Angry that you'd think such a thing about her feelings towards you. She took a step forward and you took one back, trying to keep the distance.

"You kissed another person, Two!, And you want me to believe that you still feel something for me?"

"Baby-"

"No!" you point a shaky finger at her, feeling tears sting the corners of your eyes as a lump forms in your throat. "I have't talked to you in weeks, weeks Vada, because I've been giving you space. But when i finally hear from you it's because you got caught kissing Quinton. How the Fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

Vada held her hands u, a stray piece of hair falling from her messy bun and brushing on her cheek. "It didn't mean anything and he pushed me away before it could get to deep."

"The fact that he had to push you away is what makes my stomach sick. you wanted to kiss him,"

Your voice trails off into a soft whimper at the thought as you take another step back and place a hand over your mouth so a sob couldn't escape. you look away from the girl because at the moment, you couldn't bear to see her face.

"Please just let me explain-"

You snap you're gaze up, a very heated one that causes Vada to swallow hard but didn't say anything.

Your girlfriend took thins as a sign to continue. she opened her mouth to speak but then her phone started to ring. You furrow your brows and watch as Vada pulls out her phone from her short pocket.

"It's Mia."

Your jaw clenched "Answer it.."

Vada's head snaped up and you could see she was fighting a battle. she knew if she left here she'd never see you again, but she also knew that Mia needed her She was in a hard place with only one decision to make, she answers the phone.

"Hey Mia."

Your hard twists in pain at the way her voice switched to a sweeter version of it self. One she's used on you plenty of times. you turn your head away and do your best not to watch her. The start of a panic attack could be felt, you tried to shake it of but it was no use. you deserved better.

"I kinda cant right now Mia, I'm doing damage control."

Oh, so you were damaged and needed to be controlled? thats when the doubt started to settled in. Maybe Vada didn't want you because you were to damaged. Maybe all of the weight of your past was to much for her. Maybe Mia could give her a better life, hell even Quinton he was a good gut, right?

"If it all works out then sure,"

You hear Vada say though it was distorted, Kind of like your head had been submerged under water.

Vada hangs up the phone call only to toss her phone behind her on the floor. That's when she looked up and noticed how you were staring out your window, your hands were trembling.

"Y/n…"

"Do you want to be with Mia?"

Vada stares on in confusion as you slowly turn to face her, tears dripping down your cheeks. Vada knew she fucked up.

"Am I too much for you? Too much that you had to find safety in Mia and Quinton?"

"No! That's not what this is about."

"Then tell me Vada! Because I'm on the verge of a panic attack and if you don't explain to me right the fuck now why you chose to ignore me for weeks while kissing other people behind my back, I will make this decision for you." You suck in a deep shuddery breath, "and I promise, you will not like the outcome."

Vada chewed on her lower lip. You weren't normally an angry person, most of your anger would always be bottled up until it was too late and you'd burst. Well, you've built up enough anger to let that bottle shatter. And Vada knew that. But she also knew you weren't threatening to harm her, you were threatening your relationship with her. Something you've never done before, but something you've talked about. You promised Vada that if she ever cheated on you, you'd break up with her.

"After the shooting, I stopped feeling things. I was numb for a while. And I didn't want to pull you down with my negativity." Vada started, "Mia and Quinton were in the stall with me when it happened so I felt obligated to make sure they were okay. Quinton watched his brother die and it made me feel bad for him because that could have been my sister."

Your eyes soften at the thought of Amelia, the poor girl had called you a few times during Vada's weeks worth of dissociating.

"The things I did weren't me, I wasn't even present for most of it. I had clocked out and was on autopilot or some shit."

Vada was slowly taking steps towards you, and while you wanted to be far away from her, your back pressed against the wall behind you from the amount of steps you took to keep the space between her, which made you trapped. You could have walked around her but she was fast, faster than you, so she'd easily catch you.

"Mia and I kissed. And we almost went further than that but she stopped it. Told me I had a girlfriend and made me realize I wasn't being fair to you."

"Oh my god…." A hand presses over your mouth as you look away from the girl, tears falling again now that more of the truth is coming out.

"Y/n, listen to me." Vada tried again but this time you weren't having it.

"You almost fucked Mia?!"

Vada sighed and nodded her head.

"Get out…" you were seething.

"No, baby please…"

"You don't have the right to call me that! Not after what you did!"

Vada stood her ground, she wasn't about to lose you.

"I'm not leaving."

You could feel annoyance swell up in your chest. You just wanted to be alone, to process the heartache but Vada was inching towards you. The longer you stared at her, the more betrayed you felt. Could you even forgive her? You could barely stand to look at her. She was crying too but it had stopped a bit ago and now she just looked determined. She was absolutely beautiful but at the same time, you couldn't recognize her. Vada had changed and you weren't sure if you liked it or not.

"Vada, if you don't leave then I'll call my brother and have him make you leave…" you threatened.

She says nothing, just keeps stepping closer. You both hold eye contact for a moment, neither of you breathing, before your hand shoots out and grabs the phone off your desk next to you. Vada rushed forward quickly and pinned her entire body against yours, both hands gripping your wrists.

"Let me go!!" You cry out and try to get your hands free but Vada was strong, maybe too strong.

"Not until you calm down!"

"I am calm!"

The struggle lasted for a few minutes as Vada fought you for your phone, trying to take it but you managed to switch it to your other hand. Vada's face being close to yours.

"Let me go ..just let go!" You started to sob as you desperately tried to get your phone, fighting against Vada's hold. But eventually she won and tossed your phone behind her where it lay next to hers on the ground.

She then slipped her thigh up and pressed it between your legs in order to lock you, though it caused different effects as your body tingles from the sudden touch. You gasp and look down at the girl. The girl who had been your first everything. When your eyes connect with hers, you could still see the love she held for you. It made you cry harder but Vada wasn't having it. Vada wanted you. She wanted to prove that to you. So she pushed forward and kissed you.

It was like second nature to you. Vada knew her way around your mouth, knew what to touch with her tongue that would make you buckle at the knees, knew what techniques could make you succumb to her. She remembered it as clearly as you did. So when you try to push her, albeit weakly, Vada pressed her entire body closer until her thigh pressed into your core. You moan into her mouth as the anger slowly dissipates into lust, though it lay dormant at the surface.

Vada parts from your lips in order to pepper kisses along your cheek and jaw, letting you catch your breath as she thrusts up against you. Your body betrays you and you're left grinding down on her thigh.

"….let go .." you beg, and this time she does. So your hands move to grab onto the back of her shirt. The rhythm between you two was matched, you easily became in sync with her movements until you were both one unit, dry humping against your wall. You didn't care, this was the first time Vada paid any attention to you and against your better judgment, you soaked it all up like a dry sponge.

Vada was busy creating a hickey on the side of your neck while both of her hands gripped your hips to keep you from going anywhere. Your hands tugged at her shirt until it was being pulled over her head. Which left behind her sports bra and shorts. You then, with the little self control you did possess, pushed her away. Vada stumbled back with an undignified sound as the both of you stared at the other.

You panted heavily, lips swollen and neck throbbing from the mark that would take pounds of makeup to cover, as you take in Vada's form.

"If you don't fuck me like you mean it, I'll kick you out of here myself and you'll never see me again." You demand, venom lacing your voice that made Vada shiver. She grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you back to your bed. A/n sorry i could not give the full chapter cause tumblr would not let me go through the word limit mark thing but got this on Wattpad and got permission from the author so if you want part 2 with the full fic & the book ( on wattpad ) tell me A/n here the full book

[quirkle2]

THAT GORE IS SOOOO GOOD!! PEAK WRITING IF YOU ASK ME TBH (i love feral zombie mobu, he has my heart) will you be publishing your zombie au oneshots on ao3 or just here on tumblr?

also one last question (or not. >:D), how was zombie mob's dynamic/relationship with tome tho? i assume in this au that they didn't know each other before mob got turned? did they form some sort of relationship in a way that he eventually start to recognize her? or did mob stayed seeing her only as a stranger :o

- 🪻 (i think i'm just gonna go by this emoji from now :3)

WAHHHH TY SM,,,

ill prolly just stuck to tumblr for the one shots! i usually like to stick to longer stuff for ao3, so tumblr it is

and yes, mob Does grow to recognize tome as a friend instead of a stranger! it's a bit of a weird dynamic at first, bc when tome meets ritsu, the boys r separated. ritsu is adamant that zombie mob isnt violent, but tome begs to differ...

when tome led mob away from ritsu so she could get him back to the settlement, she ended up tying him to a random utility pole w rope from ritsu's bag she totally rifled through. in any other circumstance she'd prolly just let the patrol guards kill him, but mob is the one that got her attention and Led her to a sick ritsu, and she finds that they're traveling together.. (their labeled water bottles in ritsu's bag is the biggest sign; saliva can infect u so ritsu has to be careful abt not drinking after mob) this zombie is Behaving Strangely and tome is too curious abt this wack ass setup they've got goin to just,, let this zombie die or wander off. the only method she has of keeping him in one place is to tie him somewhere :/

zombie mob doesnt seem to rly care at first, he's just worried abt ritsu, but then when tome doesnt come back for a bit ??? the next morning when she returns (with food and water for him !) he is vicious toward her. he cant do anything tied up like he is, but he's constantly snapping his teeth at her, hissing and spitting and snarling, and trying to wiggle free

all that mob knows if that he tried to get help from this girl, ritsu is gone now, and he's tied to a pole. that pisses him off and all his addled brain can rly process is that ritsu is In Danger somewhere he cant get to. and in tome's perspective, this strange kid she saved has been traveling with a fucking demon, but somehow isnt infected.they checked. he's miraculously not

when ritsu is well enough to hold a convo, tome tells him she has his zombie friend safe somewhere, bc even in his delirium ritsu was mumbling abt his brother (tome voice ah! they're brothers... inchresting i see the resemblance if i remove the horrid eyebags from mob's face). ritsu says mob is an extremely docile zombie by default. tome says he's literally one of the most vicious ones she's ever seen. neither of them believe each other and ritsu is convinced she has the wrong zombie and that mob is still out there somewhere, wandering the settlement grounds just Asking for a patrol to kill him

when ritsu is better, she sneaks him outta the settlement to see his brother. as soon as tome comes around the corner of mob's sad little Utility Pole home he gets riled up and starts snarling, but when another figure follows behind her, he Instantly settles. he sees ritsu's face, still a bit pale but otherwise alive, and every alarm bell in mob's head is cleared and he relaxes like a switch in him was flipped

ritsu saw that viciousness for a split second tho, and is Shocked by it. nevertheless ritsu is so relieved he's okay, so he basically rushes at mob and envelopes him in a Hug and tome watches this, kinda stunned. the way his brother instantly settles in the hold ?? maybe ritsu Was right, in his eyes... maybe being around ritsu just calms mob down, so ritsu's only seen his tame side

tome joins the gang after that (her joining might seem strange, given she hasnt much of a motive, but trust me, for tome, getting to study this enigma of a dynamic is basically her dream. also she has a backstory that motivates her more but im not getting into that now). and it's very odd how mob seems to,,, be largely ok w her now ?

she thought it'd be difficult, given his obvious hatred of her after their first meeting, but it seems that her eventually bringing back ritsu erased most of the distrust there. he's typically pretty cool w her around; the only times he gets testy is when she shoves ritsu around when they're bullying each other. after all this time of walking w a gentle ritsu alone, mob doesnt rly know the difference between fun roughhousing and actually hurting each other, so he typically growls at her lowly until she stops

later on in the journey, he shows genuine trust in tome, particularly after moments where she saves him or ritsu from getting shot. and way later on, when tome is in trouble, mob even attacks another zombie to keep them away from her

eventually he sees her as part of the gang, and tome sees him as less of a Vicious Monster and more of what he actually is; somebody's brother that is sick, and is one of the only zombies in existence that is actually being taken care of and accommodated for

[nathank77]

9/30/24

8:54 p.m

Idk what to do. They did another cat scan on my mother bc her pain isn't getting better and the abssess is the same exact size and the colon walls i believe are thickening. If her pain doesn't get better by tomorrow she's having surgery Wednesday morning.

Someone stole one of my pairs of hyper tough gloves.... I'm pretty sure it was liv. I left them out in the kitchen two pairs and one of the pairs is just gone. Bro I'm a person with ocd on disability. I need them. I've used them everyday since we got Riley. They didn't just walk out of here. Idk what happened but I looked fucking everywhere. And liv actually said she thought she saw them outside and my sister said they were hers... maybe it was skye idfk.... .

I'm upset about it bc I need them for Riley and a lot of stuff..and I don't have money for them and I need them if I play with Riley or walk her or do anything around the house.....

My mom is frantic bc the surgery means a colostomy bag... and I can't make her feel better. I'd kill myself. I didn't tell her that but I'd kill myself if that was the only option.

It was poison ivy.... I correctly identified it... cause yea.. I'm pretty sure they nabbed my gloves and cleaned the poison ivy up with them. They stole medical gloves out of the hospital for me so I can clean my mess in the house cause I stole one pair and cleaned the bathroom and did a bunch of stuff... like cleaned the toilet bowl not water... and the sink and the shower. And I cleaned the bathroom floor with pinsol and water and a new pee pee pad which I used my shoe to rub it around...

And when they were stealing the gloves they were like wait you're a large... and I'm like yea a large cause the medical gloves fit snug in large... but they were really like not mediums... yea in my hyper tough gloves I'm a medium....

I'm pissed cause I need those gloves... and I'm worried bc Riley nose was above the poison ivy and what if her whiskers touched the poison ivy...... I'm so worried about it. And she loves me to death. She listens about getting in the crate... but she's in the crate almost all day cause I put her in when I visited my mother in the morning... then I came home walked her... and she pooped on the carpet again... and then liv put her in the crate and I cleaned everything while she was in there... not the poop... liv did that.

Then I let her out. And I played with her after a little and then i had to go see my mom so I had to put her back in the crate... I get home around 8 p.m. they walked her... and now I'm in my room. Riley is free roaming but this is no life for a fucking German shepherd. AND they said they have the papers and if I surrender her they'll say I dog nabbed her.... so I guess tomorrow I'm going grocery shopping. Riley will be in the crate from 12:30 until I make my chicken... and take a shower.... cause I haven't showered in 2 days now.... I feel disgusting..... and then I'll let her out walk her and then i have to put her back in there to see my mom at the hospital.

When I grabbed my backpack she got all possessive like she always does but she went in the crate when i said crate. So I have no choice but to crate her when I leave the house.....

And then Wednesday if my mom has surgery... which she probably will Riley will be in the crate all day while I'm there.

I'm fucking livid at everyone. I'm dealing with all my ocd obsessions... freaking out with anxiety. Over washing my hands. My skin is crawling.

AND THE DOG IS STUCK IN A CRATE ALL FUCKING DAY AND THEN I GET HOME AND GO TO BED AND SHE LAYS BY HERSELF WATCHING MY DOOR FROM HER CRATE.

ITS FUCKING AWFUL AND IF MY MOM NEEDS THE BAG. EVEN IF SHE DOESNT... THE SURGERY WILL KEEP HER IN A LONG RECOVERY..

THEY STOLE MY GLOVES. AND THE DOG IS SUFFERING AND I CANT BE WITH RILEY AND BE WITH MY MOM AT THE SAME TIME AND I CHOSE MY MOM BUT I MEAN COME THE FUCK ON. IF SHE GETS THE BAG SHE CANT HAVE RILEY JUMPING UP ON HER.

We compromise with a long line in the corner of the yard... with the pool blocked off... and where she can't go anywhere near my window or NALAS GRAVE... by the shed.... and they are going to use ply wood to block off the weeds..... but yea it's still no life for a German shepherd..... and I can't rehome her. That won't be done for like a fucking week!

I do love the dog. Especially after getting her to go in the crate for me. But it's not the right home for her. I can't save her. And all she gets to do is sit in a crate.

When I say possessive. She sees my backpack and goes wild trying to play. Dropping toys at my feet. And I know if I let her free roam eventually she will bite me bc of the nipping. She has to be crated when I leave. there is no choice in it. She listens she's good she goes in there. But I feel awful cause yea.

My right ear has felt full and painful... I haven't been able to schedule the mri bc of my mom.. I'm going to try tomorrow.

I'm a mess.

[bluepandastarfish]

Chocolate Cake And Blood Wine: Chapter 4

Lady D x OC

That night most of the other girls left me Alone, apart from a few dirty looks and whispers- but not too bad all things considered. The next morning I was woken up by the head maid, who handed me a new modified schedule which allows me enough time everyday to make Danielas desert, I do not know enough recipe for this but I'm sure I can find a book in the library.

Which leads me to now, on my way to the library during lunch (instead of getting lunch which probably isn't very good for me) to find a recipie book. I think I can put chocolate in something that Daniela would like, but Loana said I would die a horrible and painful death and, as tempting as that sounds, im not really in the mood to experince that. Also, I now have to take the desert out to the table myself because of that stupid bitch who decided it would be funny to tell the family of canabilistic hotties that I poisoned their food.

Not to mention the fact that last night I had some… untamed dreams about Lady Dimitrescu, I mean who can blame me? She is smoking ho-

"Andrea." Lady dimitrescu sounds pleasantly surprised when I open the door to the library. She is sat in an armchair in the centre of the room, reading a book that is deffinatley to small for her hands… she has massive fingers… oh shit. "What a pleasant surprise." I cant tell if she's being sarcastic or not but- wait she is wearing reading glasses… why does that make her hotter? "Why the blush, dear?" She smirks and lowers her eyes back to her book.

I am not blushing, I promise. "Not blush, my Lady… I'm just a bit hot as I have been tending the the fireplaces this morning." Smooth, didn't even stutter. I make my way to one of the shelves, now out of the lady's sight.

I hear her sigh "I hope you don't make a habit of skipping meals, pet" she sounds annoyed more then anything. "I can't have my bugs' "best friend forever" starving herself" I hear a small smile in her voice.

"Ye-yep well- you see- I." I turn the corner of the bookcase to see that she is already looking, as if waiting for me to appear again. She raises one eyebrow in question "Well… I'll grab soemthing in a bit, like I said yesterday, most of the others aren't very fond of me. So it's just easier if I don't eat with them." She sighs again and closes her book,setting it down in her lap.

"I have had a word with the head maid about that, she told me she is going to keep an eye out." That woman is a liar- half the time she joins in on it as well. Instead of telling the lady that I simply nod my head and continue to admire her. She tilts her head and grins at me (for a second I think I see fangs, but as soon as I do they are gone). I bow my head.

"I- um." I stutter and look at the bookshelves around us. "Looking for a recipe book?" I look back at her face and quickly add. "Would you happen to know where that would be, my lady?"

She tilts her head and bites her lip slightly before smiling once again. "I believe I do" she gestures to her left, where another bookcase stands. "4th shelf, if I remember correctly" I look up to the 4th shelf on the bookcase she gestured to and notice that it is far to hug up for me to reach, I sigh and look around the room- hoping to find something to stand on. But there is nothing.

Maybe if I climb the lower shelves? I make my way to the bookcase and grip the 3rd shelf in an attempt to pull myself up. I fall on my ass as soon as I try to stand on the 1st shelf, this is so embarrassing. "Please, allow me." I hear the lady's voice from above me and look up from the floor to see her smirking down at me. "Of course such a tiny maiden would need help" her tone is teasing as she effortlessly reaches down to the 4th shelf and grabs the book. She looks back at me and raises an eyebrow. "You do seem quite short for your age, hm?". I swear I'm dying… I'm feeling many things, I mean she is ridiculously big and she could life me without a lot of trouble. She could man-handle me any day.

My mouth hangs open as I stare up at her in silence, she is smirking as if she can read my… less then innocent thoughts. I swear I see her lick her bottom lip- but that could by the my weird imagination. "Really is such a coulorful blush, darling." She chuckles and leans down by the waist, her cleavage now directly in my eyesight. I keep my wide eyes on her face as my breathing picks up, she tilts her head and placed the book in my frozen hands. She goes back to full height and walks over to the arm chair again. "Well, pet, I expect you got and your leave now. Have Loana cook something for you." She puts her reading glasses back on and flicks her hand in the direction of the door.

I nod quickly and stifly make my way toward the door And hurriedly shut it behind me as I leave. I clutch the book to my chest and slump against the door.

"Ohmyfuckingmothermirandablackgodshitfuck" I whisper to myself. "What. The. Fuck." I push myself off the door and look at my feet as I run toward the kitchen. I keep through the doorway and throw myself against the island. Loana turns and looks at my boneless body with indifference, I lift my head slightly and gasp. "Loana! I think I'm dying!" I let my head collapse back onto the counter.

I cannot believe my life. Why. What. WHAT.

I am- very gay?

Yes we did establish that I suppose.

Fucking hell I am done. Dead. I can't live like this. I think I'm combusting. Why is my face so hot.

…why is everywhere so hot…?

I can't even- How- I dont-.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

______________________________

Next part

[haekiiu]

before i get into my little review, if you will, i present my thoughts while reading this. 🤓☝️

excuse me?? U DONT GET TO FEEL SAD HAECHAN!! UR THE BAD GUY HERE FACK OFF

uh- anger management issues much? like she’s ignoring u FOR A REASON!! DONT PUNCH THE DOOR

OMG FINALLY SET THOSE BOUNDARIES GIRL!! FUCK HIM!!

too late…. she did.

okay now why would u go to tell her “good luck” STFU like it feels like a ploy to make her think abt him on her date- the guy is basically sabotaging her future relationship

damn. jisung and y/n didn’t work out…

_

NOW THAT WE’RE PAST THAT!!

I feel like what’s best for y/n is to cut haechan off completely. she physically CANNOT do “no romance” w haechan, and it shows so heavily when she keeps asking him to do lovey things for her such as take care of her, or when she got scared when haechan tried to treat her the way he treats all the other girls. like if all you guys are, is fwb, you should be okay if he just treats you as a quick fuck, no? like the whole point is that you guys are friends first, fuck buddies next? idk maybe just start calling each other bro and homie then- perhaps that’ll help their situation and help eliminate any potential romantic feelings.

i was honestly thinking jisung and y/n would have something more? but tbh after reading i feel very neutral… if anything, i think it’s better they didn’t work out, (from a storytelling point of view). i say this because up until this point, y/n has been SOOO obsessed with haechan and literally cant function without the guy in her life, (THE DICK CANT BE THAT GOOD!) and is still currently trying to sort her own feelings out in her head, so ofc she wouldn’t be in the right headspace or position to start a new relationship. and also i think it’s very realistic to have potential partners that’s just don’t work out, like that’s totally normal, and then ending off and agreeing on being friends is a healthy thing to do…. maybe… it is if they’re both being sincere, but if jisung isn’t being genuine about it- RED FUCKING FLAG RUN TF AWAY

i also don’t like how haechan was like, “we do things on your terms” but meanwhile they’re in a fwb situation he basically coerced her into? (some of my logic for this is below) like yea, he’s listening to her and doing whatever she says, but to me it’s like he pushed her into a corner with this one… and the line where he said:

“don’t run from it, just take it”

kinda resonates with me in the essence that when y/n finally decided to set boundaries, or when y/n wasn’t fully willing to start anything with him again, he pulls her back in, and just forces what he wants onto her. if they were to truly be following what what y/n said, and doing things on her terms, they would not be fwb right now. admittedly, i do think they might’ve talked and potentially rekindled again at some point, but im still a heavy believer that if y/n had gone long enough without haechan, and gotten past that initial, “i miss him” phase, she would’ve been fine (for the most part). she has an amazing friend, who’s also an incredible support system for her, and in the end, even she can admit time apart from him was good for her, when haechan was more hesitant.

when dealing with a manipulator like haechan, cutting them off and the aftermath of cutting them off, is always the hardest, but if you’re fortunate enough to have a support system that is taking care of you and showing you what life can be like without them, like JAEMIN, you’ll eventually reach a point from which you can heal from. however, y/n jumped back into this situation FAR too early, quite literally picking at the scab without letting it heal fully. like aiya… u stupid….

also, another thing, I HATE HAECHAN! like go away!! don’t tell her “good luck” before her date??? for this moment, whether it be intentional or not, going to see y/n, is such a manipulative move, and is the last thing someone who’s genuinely happy for her would do, and is very much a tactic to get the other person to think about them to a point where it might get overwhelming. not to to mention that this has the markings of someone who’s still VERY possessive over the other person, which he is. ik this sounds funny, i know, but it’s not like they were friends before this, they had a sex based relationship that was romantically charged, where both parties got hurt, and where both parties are still getting over their residual (more like current) feelings from it. i honestly think that doing this is a way for haechan to still control her. he’s obviously not okay with her going on this date, and i’m betting you that if she knew he wasn’t okay with it, she wouldn’t have gone. and just in general, i feel like it’s going TOO ABOVE AND BEYOND to show her that you’re happy for her and rooting for her? like? that’s so odd, who does that?

ANYWAYS i feel like i’m still processing things, so i’m kinda just rambling, but moral of the story here, JAEMIN ALWAYS KNOWS BEST!

(im also lowkey half asleep while writing this so please excuse anything that doesn’t sense)

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 2 of 3

wc: 18k (yay!) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), a bit of fluff warnings: wet dreams, jerking off, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, making out, praise kink, strength kink (? he's strong...) crying during sex, dirty talk, aftercare...? petnames (baby, princess), and ... names needs to be read after part 1 i think! a/n: shorter warnings list lmfao anyway.... i....this took me awhile but i really hope u enjoy this and the way it reads. let me know what you think and please be kind :) thank you thank you THANK YOU to every single one of you on my taglist and if you've sent me an ask, reblogged, or left a comment. i could not have finished this without u

haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — especially to you. 

he knew what he was doing each time he showed up around you at a party, love bites staining his skin and hair messy and wild. he noticed the way you recognised the perfume on him with a crinkle of your nose, or the slight flicker of sadness in your eyes when his phone would vibrate against the bedside table, wandering to the names on his phone. he could feel the way your shoulders tensed when he smiled blankly at you, track your movements as you looked away when he was cozying up with someone else. 

and most of all – he knew that beyond that, you couldn't go to him for all your hurt. and that was what would be most painful, the knowledge that everything you had to suffer was unjustified, feelings not tied to reason, because he never made you any promises.

haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — and he always hoped that his touch could be a good enough apology. 

all throughout rehearsals, when they took the trip to the venue, back to when he had woken up that morning, something had stirred in his chest. he was never nervous before shows, but this time he fiddled with his guitar mindlessly, wandering over to the bar and ordering just a few drinks to hopefully dull the way his heart was racing in his chest, alcohol burning a path down his throat. he picked at the way his hair fell over his eyes, re-doing his makeup before the show with the black eyeliner that he couldn't hold without thinking of you. his bandmates watching him carefully, not knowing what had changed. he wouldn't be able to tell them if they'd asked. 

it was only when the girl in the bathroom had stumbled away on shaky feet, leaving one last slick touch on his arm as a goodbye, when all his feelings that had ached in him that day came crashing down in his chest, that crushing weight he couldn't ignore each time he tried to breathe. 

you had kissed him — and it felt like a promise. 

it was this thought that now stung at him, as he watched the numbers on the screen of the elevator flick higher and higher. he had made his way to your apartment as if on autopilot, driving down streets now too familiar. he always knows the hurt he causes you — and he feels it now, like retribution, because even now he has no right to be angry at you. no right to blame you for his hurt, because while he had never made you promises, in reality you hadn't either. 

but the reality was he was here now, knocking on your apartment door. 

"y/n?" 

there's warm light seeping out under your apartment door, he can see all your shoes on the rack outside. jaemin's not home, but you definitely are. 

he knocks again, a bitter taste in his mouth. 

"y/n, i know you're home." 

his hand curls into a fist, and he hits it against the door, twice. he thinks he can hear something beyond the door, a clink of something like keys, so he raises his voice, the tone of it rough. 

"are you happy now?" 

mark has told him he gets vindictive when he's hurt or scared, has urged him to think before he speaks. 

"does it make you feel like you have the upper hand? standing me up?"

but haechan can't distinguish what he's feeling right now. 

"because i don't care at all," he spits, lies he'd never rehearsed, the alcohol mixing with thoughts he didn't even know he had, to inflict the cruelest hurt. "at least i know the girl i fucked didn't feel any different." his voice dips low, cold freezing over each syllable. "i hope you know even if you went, i still would've picked her. it didn't make any difference." 

the night is still, and quiet. his words seem to swell in the air, ringing around in his head. he stands in front of the door, head lowered, hand still lingering on cool surface, breaths dragged out of his lungs painfully. he waits for so long, that he wonders if he was speaking to no one at all — if you'd been asleep, if he imagined the sounds beyond the door.  

but then there's a soft click, and the door drifts open. 

the moment haechan sees you, he feels it like a shot to his chest, because something was terribly wrong. 

it's not just the tears running down your cheeks. 

your face is blotchy and red, dark circles under your teary eyes, your hair mussed up and tangled. you're wrapped in layers of clothing despite the cool summer night, your body still trembling with cold, and when you speak, your voice is so hoarse and broken that it makes goosebumps break out over his skin — and an achy tone he never wanted to hear from you ever again.

"it didn't make a difference?"  

his lips part. he tugs on his jacket, trying to to close it, to pull up his collar a little higher, but it's too late — your eyes are already reading the marks on his skin, drinking in every last detail of him. 5 minutes ago he had wanted nothing more than for you to open the door and see him exactly like this — lipstick smudged lips and fucked out eyes, the smell of fake roses clinging to each fibre of his clothing, the rips in his jeans tugged this way and that.  

and all at once he knew — you had wanted to go, and he just accused you of the worst thing. you were going to go, and now he was forcing you to look at him like this. if the trip here made him feel vulnerable and bruised, he knew it must have felt like this for you too on the nights he didn't ask for you — the two of you sharing feelings that you weren't supposed to have, that you couldn't justify.  

now haechan sees the way your face crumples, tears gathering on your waterline. you lift your hands to wipe them away, and it's like he can feel the way your chest shakes with wounded sounds and choked sobs, your fingers clenching into fists as you bite your lip to keep from bursting into tears.  

"y/n-" he breathes. "are you…is everything —" 

"s-so you didn't mean it? when you invited me?" you're trying to steady your breathing. every second that passes where he's watching you fall to pieces in the doorway feels like it's searing into haechan's skin, the heavy feeling in his chest increasing tenfold with guilt. he swallows, as he watches you take a few deep breaths. "i thought… i thought it meant…when you invited m-me you said you weren't making empty promises —" 

"i wasn't." he bites his lip, taking a step towards you. "y/n —" 

but you back away. "i was going to go, haechan. i was really going to go –" 

"i know." he knew now. 

" — but i've been sick since yesterday, and it wasn't getting any better, i couldn't leave the house –" 

"why didn't you tell me?" he desperately wants to run away, but he knows it's worse for you. 

your voice is small. "i don't have your number."

it had slipped his mind. it was something so stupid, something so small – how he never wanted to give you a way to talk to him, or give himself an easy way to access you, didn't want things to be too easy. all of it had slowly built up to that feeling each time he glanced at his phone that night, clutching the lifeless device in his hands. 

the last thing he should do, if he ever wanted to see you again, is blame you. he bites back his question of why you didn't ask jaemin for help, wrapping his jacket around his body self-consciously, running a hand through his hair.  "i forgot," he whispers. hurt flickers across your face again. 

"i d-don't know why i thought this would be different." you wipe at your face, biting your lip again to keep from trembling. "i hoped that maybe, even if i couldn't show up, you'd come here and take care of me. when i heard you outside the door…" 

the words have a bitter bite to them, and you spit them out like you hate the taste in your mouth, hate every memory associated with his care. 

"i'll take care of you," he pleads, quickly, stepping towards you. 

he doesn't know what he expected, if you'd showed up. maybe he'd play for you, and leave with your hand in his. maybe he could have taken you in his car, or in his soft sheets at home. brought you out for a late dinner, sit with you and let you pry him open as you always did. or maybe he'd say nothing at all, and nothing would have changed – he didn't know. 

his touch has always been his apology, always his way of reaching you through the only sure thing the both of you wanted from each other. but the look on your face tells him that the brush of his fingertips against your skin is only cruelty. 

"you're fucked up if you think i'm letting you take care of me now," your voice is grating, rough on his skin. 

"but i-"

"you'll hold me like this? force me to stare at the marks on your chest? breathe the perfume that isn't yours?" your tone is harsh and accusatory. he takes it all. "what were you going to do, if i showed?" 

and for once, haechan can't help but be honest. "i don't know," he mumbles, and he sees the words hit you like a strike to your face.

"you knew i wanted more," you whisper. "you knew i wanted to be close to you, but you always…you always –" 

"wanted?" he asks, quietly.  

"you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. whatever person lies behind all that…" your tears have stopped, your voice unfeeling. the numbness in you mirrors his own. "i want nothing to do with him." 

he can't think of anything to say. he reaches out a hand, and for a moment you let his fingers graze your arm, fear and hurt in the way they curl around your wrist, begging you to hold on to him too. you're scaring him, and he doesn't know how to go back, but he knows he deserves everything you're saying to him. deserves the way you shake free of his hold and close the door, his feet stumbling over themselves as he backs away. 

you said you didn't want to know him, that you didn't know him at all. but he can't help thinking that's not true, because you knew him enough to know exactly how to hurt him through the walls, through the boy he pretended to be, right through his chest and past his ribcage, right into his aching heart. 

—

ever since your fever broke, your life had been quiet. 

you go to all your classes. you cut down on coffee by getting sleep at night. you take walks with jaemin around the neighborhood, falling back into old routines. movie nights, and grocery trips. he was coddling you, and you felt it every day — coming home to warm meals, the way he was more forgiving over little disputes. you didn't deserve it, watching him slip out of the front door quietly, camera bag slung over his shoulder. 

you didn't deserve it, because you ached to follow. 

some part of you was still trapped inside your room, heady and aching, desperately trying to reach him. needing his apology, needing him to recognise the way he hurt you. you couldn't look for answers in your memories, but you played each scene back in your mind like a looping film reel, letting images suffocate you — his jacket falling open, love bites marking his skin, all the times he's slipped from your grasp. and yet, other fragments come back too — the warmth of his hand on yours in the car, the slight tilt of his head as he brought his gaze level with yours, seeking you out when things got too much. his quiet answers in the dark, the slow smile that spread across his face that made you glow, knowing you'd made him happy. 

"he got off lightly," you tell jaemin one night, the both of you on the floor by the couch. ice cream and wine drip condensation on the table-top, and the both of you are too heavy with the rush of sugar and alcohol, the clock ticking in the silence of the room as you sit.  

"you just want to see him again," he'd replied, quietly. "don't you?" 

"i just wish we could have talked." your voice is small. you and haechan never truly talked, except for some nights in the dark, lying in his arms afraid to breathe, afraid of breaking the tenderness that swelled in the room, afraid of turning on the lights to see who you were holding in the shadows.

"and then what? you'd be together?" jaemin glances over at you, and the concern in his eyes makes you shrink back even more. you were supposed to be doing better. everything in your life was right, it was exactly the way it should be — but why did you feel empty? 

"then i'd at least have closure," you mumble. "i'm never going to get any answers unless i talk to him." 

a brief expression of discomfort crosses jaemin's face, but it's gone when you blink. 

"i just don't want you to see him again, and forget all the ways he hurt you." 

you don't say a word. both of you knew that it was something too likely to happen. 

—

it's dark in haechan's room. the boy liked it shadowy, black-out curtains drawn over the windows, the air cool from air-conditioning, an air humidifier spewing light blue mist in the corner. the boy sitting in bed had his guitar in his lap, picking at the strings quietly, his phone face-up on the bed next to him, recording his ideas. he was swaddled in a large hoodie, swallowing his frame, shorts riding high on his thighs as he curls into himself. 

he doesn't look up when mark shuffles in, closing the door behind him quietly, blinking as his eyes adjust to the low light. 

"jaemin's outside." 

haechan nods. "i heard you." his voice is a soft sound, boyish. mark has heard it enough growing up, that he knows haechan is scared. he knows haechan is waiting for answers, waiting for the verdict.

"he says he'll only continue to work with us if you stop seeing… y/n." 

the name trips in his mouth, clumsy. it feels strange to use it, especially around haechan, who knows you more than any of them do, like he's saying something he's not allowed to, a boy using an expletive he doesn't understand. haechan's body tenses when he hears your name in mark's voice, predictable, almost laughable — the slight tightening of his nimble fingers on the neck of the guitar, slip of his fingers on the guitar pick. 

"okay." and the boy goes back to playing. 

"you'll stop seeing y/n?" 

"yeah." mark moves closer to the bed, sees haechan's lower lip caught in his teeth. 

"haechan, stop." 

the boy shakes his head roughly, plucking at the strings a little harder. 

"what happened? what happened between you and y/n?" 

"i'll stop seeing her." 

"stop acting like i don't know you," mark mumbles, finally sitting down on the bed. haechan stills, as mark pulls the guitar away from him, his hands going limp as he lets mark set it down at the foot of the bed. "i hate it when you do that."  

"i'm sorry." a beat, then haechan buries his face in his hands, pulling at his features, before letting his arms drop down to the bed again. "could you…could you at least tell her?" 

"tell her what?" 

"that jaemin told me to stay away." haechan fiddles with the hem of his shirt, head still lowered. "i…i shouldn't be the one avoiding her. she should be avoiding me." 

"is there a difference?" 

"yeah." he mumbles his words, plush lips barely forming each syllable. "because i hurt her. i can't hurt her and then ignore her…that's…that's not right."

"so you want to keep seeing her?" 

"i just want…" his voice is hollow, and when he looks up at mark — the dim light in the room catching on the features of his face, mark can finally see the way his lips were raw, skin torn and bitten. his eyes, usually sharp and piercing, are puffy and swollen from crying, dazed pupils blinking up at him. "mark, i don't think i've ever hurt someone like this before."

mark wonders what he could have done, but he doesn't ask. "do you want to make it right?" 

"i don't know how." he swallows, throat bobbing. "i don't know if i can." 

"maybe avoiding her isn't the best thing…" mark starts, putting a hand on haechan's arm, but haechan flinches. 

"the band will kill me. jeno will kill me." mark opens his mouth to argue, but already haechan is leaning back against the headboard, head lowered and looking down at his lap. "i'll do it. i won't see her again."

"it'll be fine" mark reassures, softly. "in a few weeks, after a few more people, you'll forget all about her." 

neither of them really believed it. 

—

as jaemin sits on the couch — jeno sprawled on an armchair with jisung perched on the armrest, mark sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, he thinks about how these boys have become his close friends. he fits in with them in a way he never has with his other clients — evenings spent photographing them, understanding them through the lens of his camera. cycling trips with jeno, bringing out mark's competitive streak as they drank in the kitchen, babying jisung and taking care of him when the other bandmates weren't around to do so. 

and of course, getting to know haechan — teaching him how to use a camera, chatting with him easily about the city. if jaemin was to be honest, haechan intimidated him a little with how guarded he was, every sentence he spoke to jaemin felt like it'd been turned over a million times in his head, each word careful and poised. he also disappeared for long periods of time, sometimes never there during parties. 

now jaemin knew what the time had been spent on. who he'd spent it on.

"we're really sorry." it's mark who speaks up first. jisung nods in agreement, while jeno looks on. 

"i don't need you to be sorry," mumbles jaemin. "it's not your fault." 

"still…" mark scratches the back of his close-cropped hair tentatively. "he mentioned it."

"what did he say?" 

"he didn't tell us everything," jisung says, voice hushed. his hair falls over his eyes as he ducks his head in thought. "mostly just told us to stay away." 

"did he sound like he wanted them to be exclusive?" 

mark and jisung exchange a glance, but it's jeno's voice that answers just as mark's lips part. 

"no." when jisung bites his lip, jeno raises his eyebrows, annoyed. "are you kidding? he just said he fucked her more often, and that we should fuck off." 

jisung looked wounded. "he didn't say that." 

"but that's what he meant." 

"mark?" 

jaemin calls out to the boy, bringing him out of his thoughts. mark was staring at his own hands, a frown creasing his face.

"haechan agreed," he says, slowly. your name lingers on the tip of his tongue as he says it, like he's tasting the sound, the unfamiliarity of it in his mouth. "i…i think i might know what's going on with haechan, but it's up to him to explain, not me." 

"so he won't see her anymore?" 

the words come easily to jaemin. he knew it was the deal he was going to make the moment he texted mark to ask if they could talk. he was willing to lose his growing friendship with the rest of the boys if it could give you peace, if all of you could go back to the way things were. 

he think back to how he found you — struggling to head out of the door the previous day, barely able to make it to the door, the fever burning up your brain and making your bones ache. he thinks of coming back home to you after he'd went to the pharmacy to get you medicine, slipping his shoes off at the door and immediately knowing that something had changed, from the tears streaming down your face. 

"how did this happen?" 

"he came to see me" you mumble, struggling with the sleeves of the thick sweater you were trying to pull your arms through. the moment you straighten, you wince as a dull pain throbbed through your head, hunching over again as stars blinked in your vision. 

"haechan?" 

he sets down the bag of medicine on the kitchen counter, picking up the thermometer and pointing it at your forehead. the light on the screen blinks red, and his eyebrows furrow, the displeased expression on his face only growing stronger. 

"why did you open the door?" he asks, slowly. "i thought we talked about this." 

"i thought…." your voice is scratchy, as pressure seems to rise inside your skull, pain that made your eyes tear up. it's laughable that you thought he would take care of you, and instead he ripped you to pieces. tears well up in your eyes again, and your lips part, only to let out a small sob. 

he grips onto your arm, gently but firmly, steering you back towards your room. you don't have any strength to fight back, it felt like the temperature in the room was at freezing point even though jaemin was only wearing a thin shirt and shorts, and the ache in your bones made every movement shoot pain through your nerves. even after lying down on your bed, swaddled in blankets, the dim light slightly easing the pain in your head, you were too weak to lift your head, stretching your fingers out over the blanket and crawling towards where jaemin's hand rested on the sheets. 

he held your hand and listened to you talk, knowing you needed to let it all out. he didn't judge, he didn't make faces. just listened with his eyes closed as you told him about meeting haechan, the way he pulled you away from everyone else and how you'd followed. he observed you quietly through his lashes as you sniffled, breaths breaking up your words. 

the story got harder to tell when you recounted moments of his tenderness — when he'd call you his, when he took care of you, when he'd promise to be harsh with you but never went through with it, the way his face fell when you cried. you stuttered and hesitated through it all, because you didn't know if any of it was real or just imagined.

jaemin knows he could have hurt you further — broken every last illusion, pierced through the image of haechan you had in your head. but he didn't have the heart to, so this was the best he could do — making sure it stopped. 

"it's done," mark nods, but he looks unhappy. 

jaemin doesn't feel the weight lift from his chest like he thought it would. he feels jisung move to sit next to him, a hand on his shoulder as he observes his face. 

"i'm really sorry," he mumbles, lips barely moving. 

"it's not your fault," jaemin replies, leaning back against the cushions, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. 

—

haechan is dreaming again. 

except it's more memory than dream, the way you're laid up against the pillows, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaves kisses on your inner thighs. it's so vivid, the way you taste, the twitch of your muscles as you tense around him, the small gasp as he pulls away to sit back on his knees. 

"please-" you whimper, needy from being teased. scrabbling, you bring your knees to your chest, hands trembling as you hook them on your thighs, tears smearing your cheeks with a dewy glow. you were trying to keep your voice quiet, small sounds barely escaping your lips as you bit down on them, pleading with him through murmurs and barely coherent words. his shirt on your body crinkled everywhere from how he'd been grabbing at it, the long sleeves falling over your palms. it was straight out of a wet dream, which it now was, as you begged him to fuck you, your wet folds slick with spit and arousal as you bared yourself to him, pleading with him to sink into you. 

in memory, he croons. he gives you what you asked for — pressing your weight into the mattress as he pushes into you, feel you pulse around him as he goes in hard and deep, feel your body trembling against his. 

but in dream, he can be honest enough with himself to admit that it scares him when you cry. that his stomach twists when he hears you beg, like missing a step on a staircase, a second where he's rushing into nothing — not knowing if he'd made you like this, not knowing if he was hurting you. from the girl shaking against him, clumsy hands finding purchase on his shoulders, and you now — hips rocking into nothing, desperate for him. 

"i'm here," he whispers, gently taking your hands and slowly lowering your legs down to the bed. he kisses you until your breathing calms and slows, your hands now on the sides of his face, caressing his cheeks. he likes how you touch him as if you could ever bruise him, loving brushes of your fingertips, urgency making your fingers curl into his skin, hesitant scratches on his shoulders that your hands skitter away from. 

in dream, he pushes into you slowly, watching the way your lips part, breath caught in your chest, eyes fluttering closed as you take him in. wet sounds fill the room as he begins to move his hips, your face shyly tucked into his chest, your ankles sweetly hooked against his lower back as you melt together. the feelings in his chest intensifying the pleasure he feels from you wrapped around him. his eyes meet yours as you blink up at him, and it's so real — the way you glow against the sheets of his bed, eyes all soft and sparkling with tenderness. 

but then he wakes in the same bed: the feeling of you under him, the crash of his heartbeat in his chest, all of it hanging in the dark, a lingering tattoo on his body. 

—

so it's almost like a dream, when he opens the door to the stranger's bedroom, to see you slumped on the floor. 

the din from below echoes through the hall, the sounds of the overwhelming crowd seeping into the room and reminding him of why he was here. he'd been looking for a quiet place to be alone — the constant eyes on him making him feel self-conscious and jumpy. 

back at the apartment, jeno had said he wasn't being like himself, that he hadn't been himself in a long time, the memory of his laugh ringing in haechan's ears as he climbed upstairs. when has a crowd ever bothered you? when have you ever hated attention? 

he didn't know the answers. 

now haechan stands in the doorway, not believing his eyes. there was no way you'd known he would be here, alone. you're curled in on yourself on the floor, leaning against the bed with your knees tucked to your chest, eyes shut. your body is still, and for just a while longer he lets himself watch you for just a moment — drink in every single detail he'd missed even if it felt like teasing open his own wounds with fingers caked in salt. the rise and fall of your chest, your hair mussed up and falling over your face, the slope of your shoulders, your arms. 

and suddenly he's back in his bed, your weight the only thing he was sure of against his chest, drunk on the soft sounds you made, lips barely forming his name. 

you don't know he's here yet. he could walk away, leave you by yourself. but something in him told him he couldn't leave you like this in the middle of a party, barely conscious in a stranger's bedroom. before he knows what he's doing, before he can fathom the consequences, he's kneeling before you, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your body. you reek of alcohol, stirring when you feel the weight of the leather on your body, your tongue numb and heavy in your mouth, eyelashes feeling stuck to your cheeks as you struggle to open your eyes. 

"y/n?" haechan whispers, choking on the sound of your name. 

"haech-" you trail off, fingers coming up to rub your eyes sleepily, the jacket slipping slightly. "haechan." it's the way you say it, like your tongue is too afraid to form the syllables, like something you can't bear to say. 

"i-i'm going to find someone," he mumbles, backing away from you, clumsily trying to get to his feet. "you stay here, i'll –"

"don't go-" the words almost get lost from the way you're slurring, lips barely moving, shaking your head as you reach for him again. your fingers slip on the sleeve of his shirt, before curling and holding on tight. "please don't leave." 

"i…" pain flickers over his features. he bites his lower lip, body moving towards yours instinctively, your hand crawling up his sleeve and grasping for his arm, fingers digging to the bone as you tremble. but then he feels your breath on his neck, and he pulls away again. 

"what happened, y/n? did someone hurt you?" he feels like a hypocrite. 

"no," you say, meekly. "i think i just had too much to drink." 

"did you come with jaemin?" 

you shake your head, nuzzling into him in a way that makes his heart pulse painfully in his chest. "i don't know anyone here." 

he still thinks he should get help from any of the girls downstairs. even as you meld yourself a little closer to him, he's almost certain you wouldn't be acting this way if you were sober. 

"y/n, i can't. please just let me call jaemin–" 

"want you here." you reach for him again, trying to pull him impossibly closer, fitting his body against yours. "don't want jaemin to see me like this." 

it dawns on him that besides jaemin, he was the only one you felt comfortable around like this. it wouldn't be the first time he's taken care of you when you were vulnerable or weak, and his body reacts out of habit — pulling you into his arms, his hands gently patting your back as you blink back tears in the crook of his neck. but it still didn't feel right, knowing he was the one who had caused this, and yet he was here holding you.

"let me talk to someone downstairs – i'll see if they can take you home," he murmurs. you bury your face deeper in his neck, shaking your head. "just 5 minutes, okay? i just need 5 minutes —" 

"don't want someone to bring me home," you rasp, and his gut twists painfully when i feels your tears damp on his skin. "i don't want to go back to my place. i want to go with you." 

"you're going to regret this," he says, softly. to him it's the truth you're not sober enough to see, even if it hurt to tell you. "you don't really want this, y/n." 

"is it because you want to find someone else?" your words are soft-edged, lips forming the words carefully, but it pierces him all the same. "is it- is it because you want to bring someone else home?" 

"no," he answers, quiet. "i haven't…not in a while." 

"so you just don't want to be around me?" 

his mind is racing, desperately trying to think of how he could help you, but his mind was coming up with nothing. that same feeling he always had around you — protectiveness intersecting with the ache in his chest everytime your eyes met his, all of it roaring in his ears, louder than the cacophony from any party. for all the times he's claimed he knew what was good for you, he's begun to realise that he has a terrible grasp on how not to hurt you. 

"you don't want to be around me," he corrects, but his fate is sealed when you let out a small sob, muffled against his shirt. 

and he takes you home. 

—

you watch him through your lashes, as he swipes a cotton pad on your face, cleaning off your makeup. 

"close your eyes," he mumbles, a slight pout forming on his lips from how hard he was concentrating, trying to be gentle with you. his touches are far too light, and you're sure your makeup is still on your face, but you let your lashes flutter shut anyway, feeling a featherlight brush against your eyelid as he holds it against your eye. dropping the used pad into a small bin, he brings a warm, damp towel up to your face, the material of it soft against your skin. 

"can you brush your teeth?" he holds a toothbrush up to your face, but he withdraws it once your hands come up to hold it, completely misjudging the distance and landing on his shoulders instead. "open," he coaxes, parting his own lips so you'd mimic him. he smiles fondly as you open your mouth wide, a hand coming up to hold your face in place. "good girl," he mumbles, and you preen at the praise that shines through your drunken haze, following his instructions to rinse out your mouth.  

there's a short pause. having brushed out your hair, removed your makeup and brushed your teeth, the only thing to do next was to get you to bed. 

your legs squeeze around his hips, your back against the mirror on his bathroom counter. "haechan," you mumble, tipsiness making you swallow your words. "don't…my clothes…" 

"i'll leave them on," he promises, ignoring the way your tight dress looks uncomfortable and unclean to sleep in. "don't worry." of course you don't feel comfortable around him, not after everything.

but for some reason, you're shaking your head, two clumsy hands closing in on one of his and guiding them to your back. "take them off. please–" you add, when he hesitates. "please help me."

"of course," he murmurs, familiarity sparking in his fingertips as they grasp for the zipper, a sense of dejavu in how he drags it down your spine slowly, your back arching slightly. you look at him, drink in the proximity like the first taste of rain after a heatwave — the pretty cut of his eyes, the way his pupils float upwards as he focuses on your back through the mirror. the round tip of his nose, and finally the plushness of his heart-shaped lips. it feels like reprieve, the ache in you finally soothed by the way his breath fans over your cheeks, a gentle balm on an open wound. you lean forward slightly into him as if drawn by a magnetic field, one of your hands coming up to trace the arches of his cupid's bow. 

"y/n?" you can feel his lips move, soft like rose petals on your fingertips. "what are you doing?" 

"you haven't called me baby all night," you blurt out. "or…or princess." your thumb dips to brush against his lower lip, before he's catching hold of your hand and pulling it away from his face gently. 

"i shouldn't," he mumbles, pressing a light kiss to your fingertips before letting go. "i can't."

your dress has gone loose around your body, and you push the sleeves off your shoulders with your hands, letting the fabric drop to your waist. you observe him, watching the way he swallows, throat bobbing when his eyes dart to your chest, lace draped over your curves. 

"haechan," you murmur, but then he turns, hands now fumbling with a pile of his clean clothes. he holds out a clean shirt to you, bunching it up at the collar to slip your head through it, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. 

"i want that one," you say, softly, pointing to a long sleeved shirt you'd remembered wearing before in the room he'd shared with the boys. something flickers in his eyes, his hands curling into fists before he picks it up. he's putting it over your head, the soft cotton hanging off your shoulders, his hands coming close to your body to guide your arms into the sleeves, until you can't take it anymore. 

"haechan, don't you want me?" 

his lips part, his hands stilling, slowly unfurling his grasp on you and placing his palms on the counter. "y/n…" 

"why aren't you-" you look up at him, biting your lip, your tongue too slow to form the thoughts your mind was racing with. "why haven't you touched me yet? do you not want me like this?" 

his heart splinters and fractures. you were so used to it — used to all his touches leading to kisses, kisses leading to him all over your body. "you're drunk." it's the only thing he can say. 

"i know what i'm doing," you fire back, but your words lilt and smear together. "ask me anything and i can answer you right now." 

but all he does is resume putting your arms through the sleeves, your limbs pliant against him as always, and soon you're completely covered up, and he can breathe a little easier. his strong arms grip your waist, and you're like a ragdoll in his grip as he guides you to stand, the dress at your hips falling, the shirt brushing the top of your thighs. 

it gets worse when he sets you down in his bed. in another universe, this might be a moment of bliss for him, something romantic and sweet in the way your body curves against his pillows, sinking down into them and blinking up at him hazily. but guilt still thunders in his chest, his vision split by lightning bolts of fear. you would wake up hating him. he would never stop hurting you. you would never want to see him again. 

your arms slide up his, grasping for him. "please," you plead, your voice small. "what did i do wrong? why don't you want to touch me?" 

"you didn't do any wrong," he murmurs, as he lets his weight sink into bed next to you, feel you curl up against him. just for a minute he tells himself — just until you fall asleep. your weight on his chest feeling like someone had doused his body with warmth, a comfort that made his eyes prickle with tears. "y/n, you're perfect," he whispers, the words melting into the dark.

"don't say that." he feels tears wet against the soft fabric of his shirt over his chest. "stop saying my name." 

"baby," he amends. "sweetheart, go to sleep." 

you hum. "haechan." 

"don't," he echoes. 

"what's wrong?" you mumble, your question heavy with sleep. 

he grips onto you tighter, holding you fiercely as tears cloud his vision. 

"i'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "i'm so so so sorry." when you don't respond, he nuzzles into your hair, freckling wet kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry," he repeats, long after you've fallen asleep. 

—

you wake up to the sound of laughter ringing out against the walls. 

the room is as dim as it was last night — dark curtains drawn and the lights turned off. time seemed to have come to a standstill, you couldn't tell if it had been days or weeks or even months since you'd fallen asleep. your body ached, still heavy with sleep while your mind cleared — it had been a while since you've slept this well.

blinking your eyes open, you slowly sit up, feeling sheets warm and soft against your skin. you sit there, dazed, getting your bearings as you survey the unfamiliar room again. your clothes, folded on a small couch next to the window. your jewelry on the bedside table, your phone plugged in to the charger. 

the only thing you recognised was the long sleeved shirt unmistakeable on your body, the familiar smell of perfume and body lotion in every fiber of the sheets.

stumbling over to the bathroom, the warm light brings back every memory — the party, the drinks, stumbling upstairs into a room as your consciousness slipped away, and then haechan, haechan, haechan. haechan leading you out of the party, taking you home in his car, taking care of you. your fingers ghost over your forehead, where you swear he kissed you just before you woke up.

you turn off the tap. in the silence, there's another round of giggles, bright like a child's, and then —

"baby, don't move!" 

haechan's voice rings lighter than you've ever heard it, and the smile in it is evident. this is a voice without shadows, fondness in every lilt and inflection. with something like urgency, you dry your hands on your shirt, padding out of his room, hesitantly blinking into the sunlit living room. 

you almost don't believe your eyes. 

haechan is sitting on the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pink lips stuck out in a pout. sitting on the floor, cross-legged between his knees, was a little girl — her hands busy with a doll, while her own hair was being meticulously braided and arranged by the boy…whose head snaps up the moment he hears the creak of the door. 

"you're awake," he blurts out, and the girl looks up. 

"hi!" she waves shyly, leaning forward towards you, but whining as the motion tugs on her hair instead. "hyuck! it hurts…" 

his eyes finally dart away from yours. "i'm sorry," he murmurs, lightly massaging her scalp with the tips of his fingers. 

"you're making it messy —" 

"right, sorry." he grabs a sparkly pink hairbrush and combs through her hair gently, beginning to rebraid. the girl goes back to her doll, settling back down and quickly losing interest in you. 

his eyes flick up to yours again, the tiniest hint of blush on his cheeks. "did you sleep well?"

you nod, feeling like you'd walked in on something you weren't supposed to. 

haechan studies your face, a strand of hair falling from his grasp before he tucks it in diligently. "are you hungover? there were painkillers on the bedside table, i don't know if you saw…" 

"i'm fine," you croak out. 

"and there's breakfast on the table," he murmurs, ducking his head back down to focus on the impressive french braid he was attempting. he looks back up when he feels you staring, as if fixed to the ground beneath your feet. 

"is she…?" 

"this is my baby sister," he answers, smiling softly. "sorry, i didn't know she was coming over today. her kindergarten is near here so sometimes i walk her to school." and then, with a nod towards the table, "please eat — i made too many sandwiches." 

the girl smiles, mumbling softly to herself. "hyuckie makes the best sandwiches." 

you can see 'hyuckie' blush at that, his lips pressed together tightly to keep in his smile as he pokes the little girl's cheek softly, going back to the braid. you cross over to the dining table, feet shuffling slowly, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the two siblings, watching the fondness in haechan's eyes. quietly pulling out a chair, you sit down and pick up a sandwich, holding it gingerly between your fingers. 

a hushed voice breaks the silence, and you turn to see his sister, cupping her lips against haechan's ear whispering so loud that her words fill the room. "is she your friend?" the girl asks, pointing her pinky finger at you, head tilted with curiosity. haechan's head tilts too, but his eyes wander over to yours as he hesitates. 

"yes, she's my friend," he says, slowly. "we're…good friends." sliding the hair ties from his wrist, he finally finishes tying off the braid, before giving the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder. "you can play for 5 more minutes okay? hyuckie needs to talk to his friend." 

her round eyes blink at you as she slowly gets to her feet, before tottering over to the window, where another pile of dolls lay. haechan clears his throat, before shuffling over to you and sitting down in a chair next to yours. 

although he adjusts himself to face you, he keeps his distance – legs drawn in under the chair, hands placed carefully on his knees in a way you'd never seen him do before. it feels like the space between the both of you spans for entire oceans and continents, an invisible force field that holds weight against your limbs, keeping you from leaning in, incapable of even moving your fingertips. 

"are you sure you're okay?" 

he looks at you — his expression soft like wax melting around a candle wick. 

"do you…do you remember how you got here?" 

you nod, taking a deep breath. "the party?" 

"i'm sorry that you're here like this," he says, quietly. "i didn't know you were going to be there, i wasn't trying to corner you, i swear." 

you nod, dazed. 

"are you upset with me? for bringing you here?" at the conflict in your expression, he adds on, hurriedly, "i-i know it wasn't the best thing to do. i could've called jaemin, or mark, or anyone downstairs…it's just that i didn't know…i didn't know if it would be okay–" 

" — i'm not upset," you cut him off, the pressure easing as you raise a hand jerkily to place it over his. "i believe you. thank you for taking care of me last night."

he exhales slowly, and when he speaks he sounds even more troubled than before. "you…you shouldn't thank me. you shouldn't thank me for anything."

his eyes dart over to his little sister, checking in on her, and the sense that you're intruding on something creeps up on you again. 

haechan had been right — there was so much of him you didn't know. you hardly recognised the boy sitting beside you, despite a vague sense of comfort and familiarity in the slightest traces of his expression, the look in his eyes, his thumb absentmindedly stroking yours. it scared you. 

you withdraw your hand, pushing your chair a little further from his, the scrape of it dissonant in your ears. "so, uh, i'll just wait downstairs for the taxi if you don't feel comfortable —" 

"taxi?" he looks at you, confused. 

"i…i should go now, right?" 

"i wasn't going to ask you to go," he says, his voice small. "i was…i was hoping we could talk." 

"talk?" you echo. after weeks of nothing? "now?"

"i mean, not right now-" he glances over at the clock, wincing. "but can you stay today?" 

there's a pause. you don't think you've ever been able to read him — you've spent days second-guessing every emotion you thought he had, the meaning behind each expression, whether he ever told the truth. but something about him like this makes you hesitate, made your breath catch in your throat. all the ways you've tried to learn how to be immune to his words and his touch slowly melting away, because that was your defense against the version of haechan you thought you knew before. 

"i'll understand if you say no," he says, quietly. "but i have things i need to say to you. please." 

you don't know what to do. 

"hyuckie?" 

you both turn. haechan's baby sister is waddling over, her fist clenched around her hair ties as the last remnants of the french braid unravel from her head. she sniffles. "it fell." 

haechan's eyes dart back to you quickly, before refocusing his attention away. "it's okay-" he soothes, taking the hair ties from her as he swipes the pad of his thumb on her cheek, brushing off the teardrops that have begun to spill from her lashes. his lips jut out into a pout, his head tilting to meet her gaze. "let's just tie it up and go to school, hm?"

"but i want it in a braid…"  

"i can't finish it in time," he says, gently, touching the strands of her hair. "i'm sorry. i promise, we'll do it next time, okay?" 

her lip wobbles. "but…"

"let me help," you say, suddenly. 

he turns, round eyes wide. "what?" 

"i'll do her hair. you still need to get her things right?" 

he nods, a little dazed. "really?" 

"i'll stay," you murmur, and you slip the hair ties from his loose fingers and sling them around your wrist. "i need to talk to you too." 

you can feel his eyes on you as he coaxes his sister towards you, the girl shyly hiding her face in your hands as you swiftly braid two pigtails down her back. he still watches you out of the corner of his eye as he packs her bag, noting the way you listen to her babble on about her days at the school, the way you help adjust the straps of her backpack onto her tiny frame.

he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you think you know the feeling. 

— 

the bed dips under his weight as he sits down. 

"hey," you hear him murmur, and you stir. his hair falls over his face, and he's changed out of his clothes, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perches on his dainty nose. it's foreign, and new…until he pushes back his hair boyishly with an open palm, flicking his head like a puppy after a swim, and the skip in your heartbeat feels all too familiar in your ribcage. 

"did you get her to school?" 

he nods. "i got us lunch too. and stopped to get groceries." studying your face, he leans in. "i didn't want to wake you up so soon. do you feel better?" 

you hum. the morning now seemed like just a dream — haechan and his sister, the breakfast sandwiches. he'd left to walk her to school, telling you to rest in his bed until he got home. now, late afternoon light seeps into the room through the open door, until haechan gets up to close it, once again sealing the room in cozy darkness. 

"may i…?" he lifts up the corner of the covers, and you nod, easing yourself to the side as he gets into bed, leaning up against the headboard, his eyes trained on his lap. you lay on your side, that same feeling — as if you couldn't reach out and touch him, as if he existed in a world of his own without you, slowly settling in your body like a familiar ache. 

but then there's a shift — and you can feel his gaze warm on your skin. you blink up at him, his pupils focused on yours, pools of the darkest molten brown sucking you into his world. he wets his lips with his tongue nervously, taking a shuddering breath. 

"y/n, i'm really sorry." 

your heart squeezes a little in your chest. "for?" 

"for what i said that night…when i thought…when you didn't show up." he takes another breath. "and for not trusting you, for going to your place after i...." his fists clench the fabrics of the sheets, twisting it in his hands. 

you bite your lip. "haechan —"

" — i'm not done." he swallows, voice dipping low. "you were right. i knew you wanted more, i always knew exactly when i hurt you. but i never tried…i never tried to change anything. i'm sorry." his hands reach towards yours for a second, but he hesitates, dropping them back on his lap. 

"what would you have changed?" you ask, softly.

"i could have stopped seeing you," he murmurs. 

you smile, sadly. "i'm not convinced that would have hurt any less." that was something you knew for sure. 

"and i don't think i could have stopped myself," he admits. 

"haechan," his eyes move to yours. "why did you invite me?" his breathing picks up, and you want desperately to comfort him, to curl up on his lap and soothe him, but you knew the both of you were afraid of what would happen if you touched. knew the possibility that you'd try to find answers in skin-on-skin, lips-on-lips, and the possibility that it would all be lost in translation again.  

"i'm sorry, –" he looks at you sadly. "i think i was just trying to get you to stay. i…" he chews on his lip, glasses sliding a little lower on his slender nose bridge as his head dips. "i regret what i said, but some of it was true. i don't know what i would have done, and i don't think i was ready for…for what you thought it was." 

you nod, cheek rubbing against soft sheets, thinking about what he said. "haechan, i don't regret not going. i only wished i'd done it intentionally." 

"yeah?" he whispers. the sound sticks in his throat. 

"if you hadn't found me yesterday…would you still have looked for me? talked to me? i'm not hurt that you didn't find me sooner-" you cut in, when you see the guilt on his features, the parting of his lips in apology. "time apart….time apart was good. i needed it to clear my head. i….i couldn't stop myself around you." 

he doesn't say anything, for a while. "jaemin came over," he says, slowly. "and he said i couldn't talk to you or he would stop working with the band and it was decided for me." 

"he what?" 

haechan shakes his head. "i don't blame him. i'm not going to pretend that i couldn't have still talked to you if i really wanted to. i'm selfish enough to do that, i'll admit. i didn't reach out because i didn't know what to say, and i didn't know what i wanted." 

"and now?" 

he closes his eyes. "time apart was good," he murmurs, echoing your words. "it gave me a chance to go back to a time before." 

your breath catches. 

" — but i couldn't. i don't think i can take it any longer. i missed you, y/n. i miss you now, even as you're here." 

"you miss me?" 

something bothered you about it, hearing him say those words. when he'd pulled you away repeatedly in the weeks you've known each other, when he came for you time and time again, was that missing you too? were things different now? 

"i miss spending time with you," he says, almost timidly. "not just…not just sex. everything. i know it's selfish…" his eyes blink open, and he pushed his glasses up, avoiding your gaze. "i didn't mean to pressure you to come back. you can forget i said that." 

he shakes his head, trying to clear it. 

"i just wanted to tell you i'm sorry for hurting you." 

you'd never dared hope for a real apology from him. some part of you expected, or even secretly wished, he would find you again after that night, lie through his teeth to win you back. and in the weeks that followed, you took his silence to mean he didn't even care enough to do that.

and now here you were, sitting with him. after days and nights, he's had time to really mean his words — he wasn't himself, which is maybe why you believed he was telling the truth.

you think you know now, why he refused to let you in. why he hadn't wanted to take your first time, something so intimate and romantic that it would have pierced right through the layers he'd built up around himself. why he drew away so many nights when your touch lingered on each others' skin, when you wanted him to stay. 

"haechan," you say, quietly. "i need you to understand that i…that i've learned how to be hurt by you. i don't want to go back to how we were before." 

he nods, quickly. "of course." 

"and…you say you knew i wanted more. so you know that i wanted to be with you…romantically, right?" 

"i know." the words are so quiet, you barely catch them. 

"if…if i come back, i don't think i want that anymore." you say, gentle, but firm. jaemin was right — you couldn't let yourself forget all the ways he hurt you. "i associate us with too much hurt. i can't trust you with my heart, can you understand that?" 

there's silence. he's nodding, but when his lips part, he's wordless. 

"haechan?" 

"i understand," he murmurs. "i'm…i didn't…" he breaks off, fiddling with the covers, lip caught in his teeth. "whatever happens next will only happen on your terms," he says, softly. "i only want to do what you want to do, okay?" 

your brow furrows. "but haechan, if you don't feel comfortable with something –" 

"i'm fine as long as you still want to see me," he whispers. 

"if you don't want to let me in, i won't push anymore." you realize you truly mean it when you make the offer out loud. even if it hurt to know that you may never see him like this again, you press on, jaemin's advice resurfacing in your mind again. "you don't owe me any more of yourself. if you want it to just be sex, we can do that – but you have to commit to it too. so no more getting jealous, or —"  

" – that's not possible." 

"you're not making any sense." you should've been hurt, but sitting here now — looking at him, the way he melts into his room, fuzzy at the edges, soft curves of his face, you can't feel any of it. finally, you're beginning to see that he's just as lost as you are. his head is still bowed low, taking in every word you say like a weight he carries upon him. 

"it's not possible because you already know me. you know enough of me that i couldn't perform with you in the crowd, can't be myself around you at a party. i can't stand there onstage, do things like eyefuck girls and play the guitar and pretend to be someone else, while feeling your eyes on me. you'd see right through me."

he sounds like he's on the verge of tears, his voice achy and raw. and as you look up at him, tears are smudging on his waterline, his cheeks glistening as he sniffles. 

"i said i'd be fine with anything," he breathes shakily, as he starts to cry, sharp inhales punctuating his words. "and i am, i really am. i-i'm not in the position to set terms. it's fine if you don't want to know me, but i can't pretend we're just strangers anymore. i won't be able to." 

words you'd said to him — you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. 

for a moment, you entertain the idea that you've hurt him too. 

"i don't think i can pretend either," you murmur. "i hated it when you pretended like you didn't know me. like you'd never seen me before." 

i'm s-sorry, he chokes, but the syllables scattered across his sobs. he claps a hand to his mouth as his breathing speeds up even more, tears wetting his shirt, achy sounds muffled against his palm. and finally you sit up, limbs still clumsy and heavy from sleep, and you wrap your arms around him, and arm slung over his chest, another around his waist, just like you wanted to all this time.

his breath shudders against your palms, warm body against your skin. you bury your face in his neck, breathe in the familiar smell of him that changed no matter who he was or whoever he was pretending to be, until his breathing slows and his sobs come to a shaky stop. 

"i missed you too, haechan," you breathe. he shakes his head. "i did-" you insist, but he shakes his head again, a hand coming to touch your arm on his waist, squeezing tight. 

"not haechan, donghyuck," he whispers. 

"donghyuck," you correct, stroking the side of his cheek lovingly, your fingertip stained with his tears. "i missed you." 

"i missed you too." he says it like the words are dangerous, hushed and quiet. "are you…are you really coming back to me?"

"do you think we can be friends?" you ask, tentatively. not lovers, not strangers. this was the only in-between you knew that could do justice to the ways you knew each other, the only way you could see yourself holding on to him now.

he looks at you for a long time, until you forget your question. his nose is tinted pink, his eyes still watery as he drowns in his thoughts. 

he swallows. "are you sure?" he asks, softly. "your first time being with someone…and it's not even a real relationship." 

"you're doing that thing again," you murmur. "where you tell me what's good for me. how i should do things." you soften when you look up, seeing the guilt in his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. "i'm asking you again," you say, slowly. "do you think we can be friends?" 

this time, he nods. "yeah," he murmurs. "friends who…"

you nod too, feeling your cheeks burn, and then you lean in — slotting your lips against his. 

for a second, he doesn't kiss you back, and your stomach swoops. 

but then his mouth is moving against yours, soft and gentle. a close-lipped kiss, just the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses together, your eyes slowly fluttering shut to focus on the feeling. and even though you'd just agreed — even though you were the one who suggested it, a part of you wondered if you could ever only want to be friends with lee donghyuck.  

—

you sit at the dinner table, and haechan's entire body aches with a longing that crests over him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs. 

he recalls the way he'd felt earlier, walking back across the park from the kindergarten, stopping by the grocery store and wandering the brightly-lit aisles, turning over pasta sauce and soup stock in his hands. the knowledge that you were in his home, sleeping, that he would turn the key in the lock and you would be waiting for him — burned down his throat like alcohol, a bonfire in his stomach. it felt like playing pretend. he was afraid to even drive you back to your apartment, to walk you to your door, to look at you too long in the moments after. and yet here he was, tipsy off the sweetness of being able to come home to you. 

after the talk, neither of you had gone much further than kissing. 

"i missed you so much," he murmurs – his voice crumpling under the weight of his own words. 

"do you want to show me?" your tone is lightly teasing, dipping low as you keep your smile on your face. the warmth coursing through your body has nothing to do with the blankets pooling around your thighs, and everything to do with the boy sitting across from you — doll-like legs with miles of silky skin splayed out over the sheets, back slouching against the headboard, all crumpled in and soft and worn. 

if you had gone to the bar weeks ago, let him guide you to this home, to this bed, you might already be familiar with this soft mattress in a whole different way.  

neither of you can deny the way your minds wander there still, despite everything. him missing your body framed against his, you craving the sink of his chest, the curve of his waist.  

there's silence, as his words register in the boy's head, pain flickering over his features. if he was feeling more like himself, he would pulled you in, caged you under him. tugged at that side of you that was always so pliant and easy for him and watched you unravel under his fingertips. the words are on the tip of his tongue — i'll show you. did you miss me too? kiss me. stay with me.

instead, his fingers withdraw, and gently touch the soft cotton of his shirt's hem, warm light flickering in his eyes. "not like this," he murmurs quietly. "not…not now."

you let out a breath, tension dissipating. "yeah," you'd murmured. "you're right." 

you'd gone to take a shower while he prepared dinner. there was something terribly domestic about all of it — you padding into the living room again, each fiber of your being smelling so much like him. the way he turned from where he stood guarding the soup bubbling on the stove to see you in one of his shirts, a towel draped over your shoulders. the feelings he hadn't learned to pin down, hadn't had the time to sort, intensified in his chest, an ache lodged inside him. 

friends. he'd introduced you to his sister as his friend, watched you braid her hair and laugh with her softly, heard your sweet voice wishing her good luck with school. the nights he'd spent with you by his side — talking about the band, about his tattoos. asking about how he did during the show, seeking your praise, wanting to know so badly how he appeared in your eyes. the way you somehow reached right through him and made him listen, made him stop. was that friendship? 

now with all the plates cleared and washed, the sounds of your clothes tumbling in his washing machine in the background, the smell of black nail polish prickled his nose as you leaned over. your fingers brushing his, holding them in place. 

"should i make it a little messy?" your voice is light. 

"it's usually messy because i get my sister to do it," he tells you, softly. "you don't have to mimic how it looks." 

you nod, a small smile on your face as you dip the brush back in the bottle. there's silence, for a while, as he watches you, studying the way you look with your head bowed, feeling each careful touch of your fingers, and then — 

"do you want to talk about rules now?" 

you look up at him just briefly before going back to the task. he swallows. 

"sure." 

another pause. and then quietly, "you can't get jealous anymore, you know that right?" 

"i know," he murmurs. "you told me to stop before…but i didn't. i'm sorry." 

you nod. "you can't be possessive of me, either." 

he hesitates. "so…no marking?" 

slowly, you let go of his left hand. "you can still leave hickeys and bruises," you mumble. "just don't…don't call me yours you know?" 

he didn't know if he could do that. "okay," he says, softly. "i'll try." and then, slowly and carefully, he asks, "are you going to keep coming to our shows?" 

the slide drag of the brush on his nail stops. "do you want me to?" 

he bites his lip. "i want you there," he says, slowly. "but i don't know if i'll be okay with having you in the crowd." 

"oh." 

"maybe you can watch from backstage. or the wings. i want you to," he adds, when you look troubled. "please." 

"are we still a secret?" 

his lips part. he wanted to say yes — but it was the way you'd asked it, like it was something you feared, that made him hesitate.

"because," you continue. "it didn't feel good, keeping it from jaemin. and as i said, i hated it when you pretended we were strangers." 

he felt your hands leave his, capping the bottle of nail polish as you leaned back in your chair, tucking your knees to your chest. he keeps his hands splayed on the table, taking a deep breath.

"no more secrets," he agrees. "and stop going to those parties, y/n. if you want to see me, just tell me." 

you raise your eyebrows. "we're not exclusive," you point out, slowly. "i don't go to the parties just for you. haechan, if you don't think you can do this…" 

"i can," he says, hurriedly. "i'm sorry. if i see you at a party…i'll say you're my friend. i'm sorry, it's just that i…i'm just…."

"it's okay." giving him a small smile, you get to your feet, shuffling over to the kitchen. you don't hear him come closer as you fill up a glass of water on the kitchen, only know of his presence as his hand touches your shoulder carefully. 

"don't go," he murmurs. his arms slide around your body, gently pulling you towards him, and you turn slightly so you can see his face.

"i'm still here," you respond, softly. 

but he shakes his head. "don't go." 

you turn around in his arms and your lips brush, his own parting against yours, seeking permission. all the time he wonders when he'll stop kissing you like he's swearing an oath — devoted in the way he wraps his lips around yours, patient and true in the way his tongue moves against yours, and even now, something loving in the way he murmurs your name into the cavern of your mouth. his hands move carefully on your skin, nail polish still drying on his fingertips, and if either of you question the way you kiss, you keep it to yourselves. 

—

it's different, watching haechan perform, when he's not performing for you. 

you saw the way his eyes flitted through the crowd, making and breaking eye contact so fast it was hard to keep track of, each twitch of his expression rehearsed and calculated. a teasing part of his lips, sinful face fluttery and slack as the music crashed all around him, like he could physically feel it. he was right — you didn't see him the same. you knew it was the performance, that he was really the one trying to please the crowd, riding off the pleasure of attention. but despite seeing through it as he had said, it still had you feeling tightly wound inside, pressure building up inside you, a craving for his touch intensifying with each time his hips shifted against his guitar. 

and even worse was the way your heartbeat would trip over itself every time haechan's eyes flickered over to you. never during a song, but in the moments between — mark's voice speaking through the mic, the rest of the boys checking on their instruments or interacting with the crowd. he would look over at you briefly, almost shyly, his heart-shaped lips creasing into a smile. 

"friends?" 

the moment you'd arrived home, you had pleaded with jaemin not to be upset with haechan, but it turned out you didn't need to. haechan had left a message the night of the party, and when you'd walked in looking more well rested and collected than you'd had in days, jaemin knew that you had been safe. you'd reassured him too, when he asked if keeping you from him only made things worse. both of you had needed that time to come to this conclusion. only time would tell if it was the right one. 

"so you're going to be friends with benefits?" jaemin raised his eyebrows. "was this his idea or yours?" 

"mine," you mumble. feeling the need to defend yourself, you raise your voice just slightly. "i just think that…i want to keep seeing him, and i want to get to know him…but i don't want him in that way. anymore," you add, when jaemin bites his lip.

"did you really lose feelings, or are you just not ready?" he asks, quietly. 

you force a laugh out of your chest. "you think i'd still have feelings for someone who hurt me that much?" you try to say it sarcastically, but you don't have the heart to. the words have no bite, and instead truth echoes in the spaces between.

"that's not the worst thing in the world, y/n." his voice is steady, and calm. "it's okay to take your time. if you remember that lying to yourself will only hurt more." 

but there are things to soothe the ache. 

"did you like the show?" 

haechan roughly tugs off his jacket, letting it slump off his shoulders and onto the floor. the moment the last song ended he'd rushed off stage and right to you, eyes blazing under his heavy makeup, the both of you stumbling into one of the small storerooms backstage. 

a single small lightbulb barely illuminates the small space, bathing you in warm light and shadow. shelves of boxes line most of the walls, except for a sliver of space that currently presses against your back, your fingers touching the cold surface. 

"it was good," you murmur. 

"yeah?" 

he's still hungry for more. you can see it in his eyes — for all his good girls and you're perfect, you knew he craved to be adored too. 

"you were right," you say, softly. "it feels different, watching as your friend." 

his smile falters.

"i…i like it more," you continue. "being in the wings…makes me want to get your attention." 

"you have my attention now, princess," he points out. he touches a hand to your waist. 

it's almost scary, how you slip back into old patterns. a heady rush filling your senses, slowly dragging you under. this is why i couldn't stop, you think, as he leans in ever closer, his eyes glazed over as his gaze slides to your lips. 

there's a beat. 

"i forgot to ask," he mumbles. "no possessiveness right?" 

your mind clears, just a bit. you nod, breathlessly. 

"what else?" he asks. looking at you, timidly, he asks. "can i…are pet names okay? can i still call you baby?" 

"baby's fine," you whisper. 

"princess?" 

"hmm?"

"no," he smiles fondly at you. "i was asking if calling you princess was okay." 

you want to bury your face in your hands. or his chest. "princess is fine." 

his smile grows wider, before he suddenly turns serious again. "are we starting anew?" he asks, hesitantly. "can i…can i bring up things from before? or are we pretending that this is our first time…" 

"no more pretending," you murmur, feeling like a hypocrite. "why? did you want to bring up something?"

"kind of," he nods towards the door. "just thought you're going to love this," he says, slyly. "hearing stage crew and bandmates walking by, knowing that at any point someone could hear us, someone could come in…"

and now you do bury your face in your hands, and when he reaches around to hug you, you lean against his chest, feeling his laugh vibrate against you, feeling you with warmth. 

"it's okay," he murmurs, as his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. "i won't play with them this time, baby. today's all about you, hm?" 

his hands falter, perhaps realizing the words were too tender, a little too loving for what you both claimed this would be. 

"lets try not to do anything…romantic?" you mumble. 

you regret the words as soon as you say them, your teeth biting into your lip sharply. 

haechan's face has shuttered down. you can't read his expression, as he nods, taking your hands in his and kissing them. 

"please." you look at him, this time taking the dive, feeling yourself free-falling towards that familiar desire, letting the current swallow you whole. "i need you." 

in spite of everything, haechan's lips are as gentle as they've always been. 

his lips brush yours, once, twice, before he locks in his kiss, hands trembling slightly as he touches the side of your face, cups you in his palms. you want to ask him what's wrong, pulling away slightly, but he makes a wounded sound from the back of his throat, pressing you against the wall, his head dipping to kiss you fiercely. his tongue slides against yours, and he groans low against your lips. 

your hands fumble on his shirt, skimming his broad shoulders, strong arms. he pants into your mouth when your drag your nails down his chest, breaking away. tugging his shirt roughly over his head, he grabs your hands and places them on his chest before leaning in to kiss you again, this time working his way down your neck, his wet kisses making your body shudder as you cling onto him for support. 

"please," you murmur, wondering why he was staying so silent. "please-" 

but he shakes his head, fingers tracing your jaw, tilting your head up so he lap his tongue over a newly formed bruise. the room is silent save for the sound of his lips, but you crave his voice, his words guiding you through everything, the lilting cadence of it. 

"haechan-" a foreign feeling spikes in your stomach as he ignores you, continuing to kiss his way down to your collarbones, fingers tugging your collar wide open. it felt like he wasn't there at all. 

he breathes heavy against your skin as he curls his hands around your hips, holding on tight. still he doesn't say a word, or even make a sound, as his caress the back of your thighs.

"stop-" you blurt out. roughly, you take his hands in yours, gripping them by the wrists. 

he lifts his head. 

"haechan," you start, but he just looks at you. your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. 

"haechan, you're scaring me." your voice is panicked and tight, the tension so overwhelming that tears begin to blur your vision, your chest rising and falling faster. 

"baby?" he asks, alarmed. "what's wrong?" 

"please talk to me," you beg, wiping away the tears on your cheek. the ache has soothed slightly at his voice, but you need more. "why…why aren't you talking? you always…you always used to-" 

"i'm sorry," he whispers, pulling your body into his, wrapping his bare arms around you. "i'm here," he soothes, in your ear. "i'm here," he mumbles again, and again, until your breathing calms down. 

"i'm sorry," he repeats, kissing you softly. "i'm here now, baby, okay?" 

you nod, and now you guide his hands to your thighs, feel the way his breathing hitches.

"can i…?" 

"please," you say, breathlessly, and his hand cups your warm core. 

"fuck," he blurts out. you were so warm, the seat of your panties completely soaked through. he slides them to the side with nimble fingers, inhaling sharply as he strokes your folds. 

"how are you so wet? fuck-" 

"take them off," you plead, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your skin. immediately, he tugs your panties and skirt down roughly, almost frustrated, barely waiting for you to step out of them before encouraging you to spread your legs wider as he strokes you, fingers dipping to catch at your entrance, your swollen clit. 

"so fucking wet," he marvels, groaning slightly as he swipes his fingers softly . 

"from watching you perform," you say, softly. 

the words send pleasure thrumming low in his navel. "yeah?" he murmurs, eyes meeting yours. 

slowly, he drops to his knees, and suddenly you feel hypersensitive — his breath on your thighs, hands gripping you tightly. he suckles a kiss close to your core, and you whine, loudly, the sound too loud in the small space. 

he looks up at you, sultry eyes framed in dark eyeliner. "let me hear you, baby," he coaxes, easing your legs open. he sticks out the tip of his tongue, and gives your clit a gentle flick, your hips bucking into his face before you can stop yourself. "i've been dreaming about this," he sighs, before he closes in and suckles on your clit. 

he lapped at you like all he'd done in your days apart was think about how best to do it — alternating between suckling on your clit, licking your folds with his tongue wide and flat, and prodding at your entrance. one hand keeping you pressed against the wall, his other slips around your entrance, sliding in one long finger, the way your walls suck him in making him moan, vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. you can feel the jut of his finger joints, the pad of his finger curling against your walls, while his tongue focuses on your clit, drawing shapes and letters expertly. 

you slump further against the wall, the pleasure making your legs shake, unable to hold yourself up, your hands tangled in his hair, knotting them around your fingers. 

"i can't stand-" you're cut off by a moan, as he bites into your thigh, licking up the wetness that stains them, a mix of your arousal and his saliva. "please," you wish you were on a bed, wish both of you had had more patience to go somewhere and do this right, feel the whole weight of his body on yours. 

"cum," he pants, sucking on your clit with his plush lips as he coaxes another finger into your warm, now mimicking a vibrating motion with his hand as he pushes in hard and fast. he doesn't break away even as he moans out, now curling his fingers languidly against your walls. "fuck, baby, i need you to cum now because i can't wait any longer-" 

his tongue presses onto your clit, and the pressure pushes you overboard. his hand the only thing keeping you upright, pushing roughly into you, he eats you out until your orgasm is over, kitten licking your clit as his head moves this way and that. you open your eyes and see him staring right at you, desire pulsing in his pupils, eyes blown out and dark. 

"good?" he breathes, both hands now gripping you tight. you nod, swallowing and gasping. his face is smeared with you, mouth and nose shining and glossy. he licks around his lips, mouth hanging open as his eyes glint. 

"more?" he asks, and you nod, gasping, falling to your knees. now, you're finally able to touch him, as your body crashes into his, causing him to nearly tip over from how he kneels, sitting back on his ankles to draw you into him. you kiss him deeply, letting his lips wrap around your tongue just the way you loved it, feel his hum vibrate against your own chest. 

his hands ghost under your shirt, and you help him pull it off, his hands cupping your breasts with his familiar touch, sucking kisses down your cleavage as you gasp for air. his hands roam your body indulgently, as if he was afraid you'd dissolve if he wasn't mapping your skin with his palms, his tongue, his lips. one hand trailing up and down your back, unclasping your bra, while the other squeezes the back of your thighs, resting his hand on your ass. 

he suckles on your nipples like he had all the time in the world, as if you weren't in a cramped store room feeling as if you were about to explode from his touch alone. gentle tongue drawing circles around the bud, eyes staring up at yours with devotion. your hips move against his, and his eyes flutter shut as he sighs, his hips starting to grind up against you as well. 

"turn around," he mumbles. "now, princess." 

"i want to see you," you protest, hands gripping onto his arms as he slowly walks forward on his knees, pushing you towards the wall. 

"i'm sorry, baby-" he kisses you, placatory and sweet. "we'll go again in my bedroom later, okay? need you like this now."

you let him maneuver you until you're facing the wall, legs spread apart as he kneels in between. trying to soothe you, he rubs a hand over your stomach, reminding you of his presence the entire time he rids himself of his jeans and underwear, rolling on a condom, tension building with every small sound, until you can feel something thick and heavy press between your legs. 

"haechan-" you pant, your back arching just slightly as you lean towards the wall for support, feeling his hand squeeze your hip. 

"i know," he mumbles, making slight shushing sounds as he eases himself against you. "i know, baby." 

even though he was behind you, you knew the face he would make as you felt his tip slowly push past your entrance, the way his eyebrows would float upwards as his eyes went unfocused, lips parting in a lovely 'ah- ah' that he tried hard to contain behind hisses and bitten lips. part of you still wants to see it, but all thoughts are lost as he fully sheaths himself into you, feeling him deep inside from the position. his hand on your hip creeps over to your navel, and he pushes gently over where he was buried inside you, the pressure somehow intensifying as you feel full from all sides. 

slowly, his body presses you further into the wall, and you gasp as the cool surface brushes your chest. he kisses the nape of your neck, and your body trembles, shifting against him and whining as you clench around him from sensitivity. behind you, haechan mumbles out a string of curses, hips jolting forward unsteadily before he stops himself. 

"please move," you whisper, and he moans, finally thrusting into you. he finds a rhythm that's slow and deep, feeling full and stretched out each time you throb around him. a particularly harsh thrust has you whining, your hips tilting towards the wall, trying to get away, but suddenly the solid weight of his body presses against you ever harsher as he rolls his hips, his chest pressed to your back. he feels stronger, and sturdier than he ever did before, as a hand creeps down to your clit and begins to rub slow and lazy circles, his body attuned to yours. you jolt away from the simulation, ass suddenly jolting back against his length, making you cry out again, sandwiched between pleasure. 

"don't run from it," he coaxes. "just take it, hm?" 

you had nowhere to go as he fucks himself into you, wet sounds filling the small space, and you're sure the floor is wet with your arousal, can feel your next climax approaching fast, making you forget about the ache in your knees and in the way your head pressed against the hard wall. you begin to shake in his hold, trying to fuck yourself back on his cock while he bullies your clit relentlessly, but once again his chest presses into you, strong arms holding you firmly in place as he overflows your body with pleasure, a hand slowly grasping yours and squeezing.

"i missed you, baby," he says, quietly, voice surprisingly steady despite the way he was ramming into you. "i really missed you." his lips brush the shell of your ear. 

you cum unexpectedly, crying out, squeezing tight around him as all the muscles in your body tense. your hand squeezes tight around his as the other rubs quick circles on your clit, working you through your orgasm. you can feel him still behind you as he cums too, whining in a pitch and tone you'd never heard from him before, desperate and achy as you clench around him again from the sound, so sensual that it rekindles a fire inside you despite the soreness in all your limbs. 

your weak hands fumble against him, scrabbling against his strong grip. he pulls out with a hiss, helping you turn around to face him. in the semi-darkness, you can see the concern pooling in his eyes, bright and scared. 

"was it too rough?" he asks, breathlessly. his hands skim your frame, pulling you onto his lap. 

you shake your head, nuzzling into him. you're torn between watching that silvery glow in his eyes, makeup smudged around all his corners, and burying yourself deep inside his chest until you can feel his heartbeat on your cheek. 

"baby? are you alright?" he rubs gentle circles on your back, as you nod. "use your words, please," he says, softly. 

"you got stronger," you blurt out. 

"did i hurt you?" he moves against you, something protective in the way he holds you that makes your body sing with warmth. 

"no," you say shyly. "i loved it." 

you lift your head just quick enough to catch the way his face crumples. before you can ask, he leans in and he's kissing you again — soft, gentle, sweet and almost shy. when you part, he looks dazed, eyes drifting down to your lips and wandering back up to your eyes. 

"you deserve better," he says, quietly. 

he looks down, at the way you're sitting in his lap, and then tilts his head sharply to look around the store room, as if he meant you deserved better than this for your first time back with him. as if this was about sex at all. 

you take a deep breath, and shake your head. "haechan, you're exactly what i deserve." 

the name rings out in the space. it seems to ground him, and he shakes his head to clear it, slowly untangling himself from you as he gets ready to help you up. 

you swallow. "take me home," you tell him. "take care of me." 

he does exactly as you say. 

—

attention simmers on your skin, a palpable heat you're unable to shake. 

girls circle the kitchen island like sharks, eyes glinting under the fluorescent lights, but they're never able to come close as it's so clear haechan's focus is entirely on you. haechan's back is turned to the party as he sits on the counter, long legs spilling over and the muscles in his thick thighs accentuated by the way he sits, denim stretched tight and each gaping hole making you doubt your decision to come to the party here, instead of going over to his home. 

it was his party, and he should go. the fans would be upset if he didn't at least show. now you were seriously regretting it, as you ducked your head to avoid the glare of another crowd as they passed by, while haechan knocked back another drink. 

he had been alight with energy ever since the show ended — agreeing amiably when you suggested going to the party, his smile only wavering when you reminded him he couldn't get jealous. and while your eyes wandered around the party, drinking in the scenes you hadn't seen in awhile, he was doing everything in his power to keep your attention on him, camera strap hanging from his neck as he clicked through the photos, pointing out the parts where jaemin had helped him, explaining the stories behind the pictures. 

"i didn't know you were into photography." it's a stupid statement, that you want to retract immediately. of course you didn't – you didn't know much about him at all. but it makes him smile a little proudly, clicking on the dial to speed through the photos. 

"yeah well, i've never taken a photo of you." he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. "i know for sure because when we…you know…when we weren't seeing each other, and i missed you…" his cheeks are burning up, his mouth barely moving as he tries to fumble through the rest of the sentence, plush lips swallowing his words. "i couldn't find any photos of you. on my camera or in my phone or…" he trails off. 

your heart thrums harder in your chest. "yeah?" 

"do…do you have photos of me?" he asks. timidly, softly. his eyes trained on his camera, unseeing, breath held in his chest waiting for your answer.

"of course i do," you murmur. you hope he can hear the smile in your voice, know that it's for him.  "rockstar." 

his fingers twitch, and he looks up at you, a searing intensity in his eyes that wasn't there before, flames licking at your cheeks as you hold his gaze, a warmth that sparks down your spine like fireworks. the sounds of the party fade away, sealing you in the vacuum of his attention.

"y/n,"  his voice drops an octave, all the softness drained out of it. 

"haechan?" 

"let me take a photo of you," he murmurs. "please." 

"now?" 

"no, not now," he says, slowly. "you know what i mean, princess." 

but you never get to clarify, because someone taps you lightly on the shoulder. haechan's eyes flicker behind you, all the intensity faded out, and it feels like your lungs fill with air again as you turn to see jisung, holding two cups in his hands, one of which he's holding out to you. 

you're torn between crushing guilt, and relief that he doesn't hate you. 

"j-jisung," you splutter. "jisung, hi." 

"hi, y/n." he smiles, nudging the cup towards you again, and you take it. almost against your will, your eyes dart over to haechan, but his face is impassive and neutral, camera laying forgotten on his lap as he turns quickly to survey the party behind him. was he trying to offer you privacy, or was he upset? 

you sip from the drink, trying not to make a face at the overwhelming sweetness that floods your tastebuds. the boy had barely put any alcohol in it. your hand almost inches towards the cup haechan made for you, wanting to balance out the taste, before you stop yourself. 

you didn't want to hurt his feelings again. 

"it's been a while," you say, sheepishly. "and again, i'm really sorry about last time."

"it's okay," he says, cheerfully. "haechan already apologised. besides, you can make it up to me on our date."

jisung's words have a physical effect on haechan. you feel him tense up behind you, body going stiff as he turns back to watch you, eyes trained on the side of your face. 

"you still owe me a date." you don't know if it's determination, or sheer recklessness, that inspired jisung to say this to you as you stood in the kitchen with haechan just inches away, the side of his thigh still brushing your waist. "are you free tomorrow night?" 

you try your best not to look at haechan. he had no right to care, you didn't owe him anything. you didn't know what you wanted to see on his face either way — whether his jealousy would make you angry, whether his sadness would hurt you instead. 

"i am," you agree, hesitantly, and jisung's close-lipped smile blooms. 

—

"you know there are other boys out there right? that there's a world beyond the band?" 

"shut up, jaemin," you mumble, checking your reflection in the dressing room mirror one last time. 

"this is good for you." his tone has changed, as he leans against the locked door. "jisung is nice. i hope it works out." 

tonight's show had been different. jaemin had reluctantly confirmed that it wasn't just your imagination — the way haechan was quieter throughout, more self-conscious in his performance, eyes barely scanning the crowd, taking longer glances at you throughout the show. jisung's confidence, on the other hand, poured off him in waves, his jacket unzipped, gums showing as he smiled wide. 

"i know." you sling your bag across your body, adjusting your skirt, as you turn to face him, taking a deep breath. "i'm really giving him a chance, jaemin. i'm…i'm taking this seriously, even if you don't believe me." it wasn't a lie. you barely knew anything about jisung, and jisung barely knew anything about you — but he was always sincere and sweet, quietly brave under his shyness. you couldn't forget the way he looked at you even with haechan by your side. it made you want to give him a chance too.

"i believe you," he reassures. "good luck, okay?" the door unlatches with a small click, and he gives you one last wave before heading out into the corridor. 

your eyes dart back to your reflection one last time before you turn back, satisfied with your appearance, and start towards the door. you barely take a step before there's a creak, and you think it's jaemin coming back, or perhaps jisung, wondering why you took so long. 

but of course, things are never easy. 

a familiar face enters the room, pushing the door open wide. he doesn't bother to close it, just takes you in for a second — eyes sweeping your frame, taking in your jewelry, the hints of makeup on your skin, your clothes, your neat hair. dejavu crawls over your skin, remembering the first time you'd met jisung, the way haechan had cornered you in the dressing room after, too. you tense your shoulders, preparing for the fight. 

"you look nice," he says, quietly. 

your lips part. "haechan-" 

but before you can speak, he's blurting out his next words. "j-jisung's going to love it," he stammers out, shadows flickering in his gaze as he swallows, throat bobbing. "i… i just came here to say good luck." at your surprised expression, his lips curve up into a sad smile. "that…that's what friends do, right?" 

"yeah." your hands grip onto the sling of your bag tightly, afraid of what your hands would do if you let go. 

"i'm going to go now," he mumbles. "i…have fun, y/n." 

there isn't a trace of sarcasm in his tone, his eyes soft and fond. he leaves before you can say another word, not closing the door behind him. you can hear his boots all the way down the corridor, can hear him disappear up the stairs. 

you try not to think about his voice, as you take the back exit out of the venue, see jisung standing in the warm summer night, smiling under a streetlight. try not to dwell on the fact that haechan might have actually wished the best for you – no more layers of pretense under pretense, no more feelings without reason. 

it's easier said than done.

—

two hours pass, your food gone from your plates, only the dregs of your drinks left in their glasses, before jisung finally clears his throat. 

"this isn't working out, is it?" 

"i'm sorry," you say, biting your lip. you'd walked to see a movie, something jisung had picked out, but had been mind-numbingly dull to you. you settled to watch his reactions instead, the way his hands flew over his eyes at the more intense scenes, the way he bit down on his fingers when the tension spiked. it was cute, but less so when he started asking you questions about the movie, and you had to admit you didn't remember any part of the plot past the first 20 minutes. 

late night dinner hadn't been better, each topic running itself to the ground quickly, your opinions and lack of opinions causing each conversation to crash to an uncomfortable halt. good things take time, had been jaemin's text to you when you asked for help. you were sure that jisung and you weren't acting like your true selves, the prospect of the date altering the way you talked and responded to each other, until you'd finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you just weren't compatible. 

"i really thought this would work out," jisung says, a tinge of sadness coloring his words. 

"i wanted it to," you confess. selfishly, you had almost been excited at the prospect of things working out with jisung — needing confirmation that you could still feel for others. excited for the date leading to the next, to fall in love with surety. 

excited to find the first relationship, the first 'you and i' that haechan seemed to think you deserved. 

"it's okay," jisung reaches out, pats your hand clumsily, shyly, as if surprised that reaching towards you meant he actually got to touch you  "i didn't know much about you when i asked you out, anyway. just thought you were really pretty." he looks mortified again, and it makes you laugh — everything about him still endearing.

"do you want to just be friends?" you ask, gently. 

it's like a weight lifts from the conversation, and he sighs, relieved. "yeah," he echoes. "friends." 

the silence that follows is a lot more peaceful. jisung slumps slightly in his seat, like the tension has left his body. his deep voice somehow still manages to sound timid when he speaks up next. 

"since we're friends…" 

you nod, encouragingly, taking a last sip of your drink. 

"can i ask…do you like haechan?" 

you nearly choke. jisung was looking at you carefully, although he smiled at the expression on your face. 

"a-are you sure you want to talk about this?' you stammer. 

he shrugs, but there's something unreadable in his expression. "i'll always be curious about it, and i guess this is my chance to ask." 

you don't have the heart to answer him directly. 

"i…i used to," you say, slowly. "but that was when i didn't know him." 

"know him?" he asks, confused. 

you nod. "yeah. i didn't really know him as a person….just…knew the performance, i guess." 

jisung still looks confused, but he nods along. "well, do you know him now?" 

you think of the sunlight in his living room. the faint dimple on his cheek as he showed you a photo of his sister running towards the camera, her face alight as she called out for her big brother. his arms around you in the kitchen, as he asked you to stay. the slope of his neck as he turns towards you at the end of a song — the fading sound of his guitar as his eyes sought yours. 

"maybe," you say, softly. 

"and?" jisung prompts. "could you like him now?" 

you don't answer him aloud, but your unspoken words ring in your head. 

—

it's different this time, haechan tells himself, as he grips his phone in his hands. 

it's different this time, because he knew where you were. he knew why you weren't calling. 

he slumps back against his bed, his body heavy with alcohol but his mind racing wild, each thought outpacing the next. 

the apartment was silent and empty. both jeno and mark were gone for the night. haechan hadn't bothered to go to the party, knowing that he would feel jisung's absence like a pain lodged in his ribs. he wonders if jisung will bring you home, here, whether you'd let him, even if he knew jisung wasn't the type of boy to go further than hand-holding on the first date. he thinks of it anyway — of hearing your sounds through his bedroom wall. whether it would make you needier to know haechan was listening. 

he feels like a loser. he's never felt more uncomfortable in his own skin, more unclean, more ashamed. but then again, there's no one around to know, as he lets his mind wander a little farther, away from you and jisung, away from his phone, sinking deep into the last time he'd touched your skin, images and sensations jumping out eagerly at him when he closed his eyes. flicks through moments that caused a heat to lick down his spine, the familiar hum of pleasure buzzing low in his navel — your legs on his shoulders, your hands in his hair. your taste, the patterns he would draw on your body so you'd shake just the way he liked, the spot on your neck he could kitten-lick to feel you tense up all around him. 

that night, even after he'd fucked you in the store room, you had been insatiable. 

he'd tried to touch you like the other girls he used to play with — never speaking much, preferring to use his mouth for other things, let their own imaginations run wild with what he could be thinking behind his hooded eyes. he'd taken you with your face turned away from him, pleasure without intimacy, sucking bruises as a keepsake for you after the night ended, not as if you were his to keep or to lose. 

let's try not to do anything romantic. 

but then you'd begged him to talk to you. told him to take you home. he'd hated it — hated the way you folded for him, like someone had given him powers he couldn't help abuse. do you know how tender this is for me? he'd wanted to ask, as he was touching you again in his sheets back home, racing to meet your every demand before you asked for it. 

your legs parted for him as he entered you, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure to watch your every expression, the look he'd been dying to see — your eyelashes fluttering, lips parted silently, the sharp gasp as he found your soft spot, your hands scrabbling against his skin. he held your gaze even as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, ankles locked in a sweetheart's cross behind him as he pushed your legs even higher, letting him in deeper. he'd never imagined himself with anyone like this before — a position so full of love and closeness, feeling your body and ripple against his, leaning in to kiss your lips softly, kiss away your desperation. 

he'd almost gone crazy when you found your voice amidst all the pleasure. 

"donghyuck," you'd breathed, saying the name like a prayer. "feels so good." 

he had stilled, slowing to a stop, even though he was painfully hard in you. his heart racing in his chest, pounding so hard he felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.

"you," you mumbled, slowly grinding your hips against him. "you make me feel so good, 's like no one else-"  

"yeah?" he picks up the pace again, tilting your body at an angle now so he could go even deeper, watches the way your face changes. he was the one who pulled that sound from your chest — sated but desperate at the same time, needy but satisfied. "i make you feel this good, right? i'm good for you, everything's for you-" he babbled, not making sense to even himself, your praise burying itself deep inside him like a siren song. 

you'd choked out more praises, pretty words tumbling from your parted lips, your eyes never leaving his. 

"more, hyuck-" you pulled at him, nails scratching down his back. "hyuck-" 

it's like he can hear your voice, as his hand slides down to his hip, down to his leaking cock. 

he jerks himself off like that — to the images of you pressed under him, your voice calling his name. he does it fast, with no finesse — tugging roughly, the slide too dry, but he doesn't care about drawing out the pleasure, doesn't think it matters if you're not here with him. 

he feels even filthier after he finishes — peeling off his soiled shirt, as he stumbles to the bathroom. he knows he won't hear from you tonight, that you wouldn't do that to jisung, but still he keeps his phone unlocked with the ringer on next to his bed as he lays down again. 

maybe he would wake up, and you would tell him he could never see you or touch you again. his mind wanders in another direction now, away from your body, away from pleasure — to the ways you made his heart squeeze tight in his chest. when you said his name. when you'd comforted him as he was crying, the kindness in your eyes despite all the ways he hurt you. sitting on the kitchen counter, thinking of ways to keep you with him as your eyes wandered off. look at me, he'd wanted to beg. think of me. just me. 

he goes to sleep thinking about how this could be the last night before you'd really only exist in memory and fantasy, before everything changes.

@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35

[elio-monroe]

im so incredibly depressed. this post is bad and contains a lot of content warnings that i can't even get myself to type out. i have a hard time seeing any of the stuff ive gone through as real or actually mattering. through most of my life if i tried to use the proper words or phrases i was told i was lying and those things dont count.

so im sorry i cant make content warnings for the read more. just take this as a big general one i guess. im not writing this for an audience im writing this for me.

this is also like a novel. so maybe don't read it because you could be doing anything better with your life. i am not exaggerating. this is so long.

i always feel like a huge bother. like im making peoples lives miserable by being around them if i am not doing everything they want to do. lately i haven't been able to make many decisions by myself, i freeze up and i just cant do it. i have to wait to be told and its frustrating, i hate it. i feel so stupid but i also feel so deeply that anything i think to do will be wrong, that ill be stepping on someone's toes.

i know my friends think i should stop making myself smaller and smaller, they encourage me to take up space. which is nice, i think, but i feel nothing but disgust for everything ive ever chosen to do.

i wish i actually didn't know why im like this. but like... i grew up every summer going to east side michigan, my grandma's house. where my cousins were, my mom's side of the family. my cousin's demanded i spend my time equally amongst them. every night i would swap what house i slept over at, if they got into a fight and didn't want to spend days playing with each other id have to make sure i evenly split my time between them and acted like i was equally on both of their sides.

if they got mad at me, even if one got mad at me, they both would ahhh you know theyd do stuff that wasnt great. a... small and lesser example would be the time they chased me and get me into a corner to terrorize me with a mechanical toy hopper (bugs life). i was very scared of that character when i was young because he was the bad guy and i was like 5 or 6. theyd do a lot of stuff like that, that would elevate as we got older. sometimes even doing more... physical stuff. i tried to tell on them when i was younger, get any adult to help me but none would really believe me. i had a reputation for being a cry baby so to them i was making stuff up. my mom would be too drunk to care at the time (she is better mother now), and my dad wasn't present in my early life (navy).

eventually i stopped being a snitch, it only ever made things worse. i guess that was a good lesson to learn early on... maybe... idk. anyways, anything theyd do to me id just keep it bottled up. i still do. and its extended past my cousins.

in late elementary my friend, who was a few years older then me and in middle school and knew a lot more about sexual education ah, well i dont think she ever meant anything bad by it im still like friends with her though we don't talk really. but i think she is a good person who just, i mean i didn't know what was happening other then being confused because i hadnt had any sexual education.... haha aaah ive just been so stupid and behind my entire life...

when we had sleep overs at her place she would usually have me sleep on a single pillow because i was pretty small when i was younger and she thought it was cute and i wanted to please her so bad. i didnt have a cell phone but she did (these were flip phone times) and she use to take a lot of photos of me... kinda non-consensually, not like sexual ones or anything so i just let it happen because there wasnt any real harm other then my mild discomfort.

eventually she moved away. and then i moved away. we kept in contact though. like i said im still her friend.

middle school was catholic and rough. i was the poorest kid going to a private school. i had hit puberty right before entering 7th grade (my first year of middle school) and my boobs had already grown to be nearly double d. catholic school uniforms are not very friendly to more curvy body types. most of the girls called me fat, i really only had one friend (and one kinda weird stalker-like girl) who had much bigger breasts then me and was a little chubby. i tried my best to not be offended at the fat comments because my friend would get them a lot more and i thought that was fucked up. i never liked when fat people where the punchline to jokes, i didn't know the word fatphobia but i was against all the shit they went through.

anyways i joined the co-ed soccer team and all girl basketball team. i had three years of soccer (on an all girls soccer team, aka real soccer) and i was a fucking killer mid-fielder. my thighs were giant and powerful, i could run for and sprint for hours without slowing down. i was a jock and i didn't even know it. i outclassed pretty much everyone on that team and i was benched pretty often because of this. the coach hated me, like literally told me how i shouldn't be as good at soccer as i am because i was making the boys feel bad. he told me it wasnt my place as a girl to do that. he'd make me run lap after lap after everyone else was allowed to stop i had to keep going.

a bit of a back up here. but i am physically disabled... i don't usually like to say that because its... minor i guess and there are so many people who have it worse. so please don't think ill of me if you are reading this, i know it doesn't count but im just getting it out there i guess. anyways my ankles (and do some extent my wrist as well) are very weak. my ankles actually hurt every single day because i am a very active person and must be on my feet a lot for my job too. but basically my ankles never really fully developed despite how much i worked out as a kid. i droll my ankles probably like 3 times a day when i was younger, im a bit more careful now, only about like once or twice a week and i rebound from it very quickly.

anways after my first year of soccer we had a new coach (this was on the all girls team) bc our first couch had to retire due to... being... not a very great person lets say. the new coach noticed i walked and ran a bit funny and one day asked me if i would allow him or my parents to wrap my ankles in bandages. i agreed and let my dad do it since he was a (navy) doctor. and lo and behold i could play soccer so much better. the pain was pretty much gone and i could fully concentrate on playing the game. and i was so fucking good.

back to middle school (in an entirely different state too) the co-ed soccer coach found out about my bandages, because one of my teammates saw me wrapping them in the bathroom and told him, and he made me stop. i got worse but i still kept trying, i wanted to spite him so bad. i wanted to spite all of them. i especially wanted to spite the girl that disclosed this information.

i hated her so much. she commented on my body so often. she bullied me every single day of middle school (thankfully i only went to middle school for two years). she was fat but called me fat, i never retaliated because it was pretty fucking clear she was insecure. sure the comments hurt because they were mean, but god i much preferred her fat comments to what she would end up sticking with after she saw me naked.

we were both on the soccer team (and basketball team), this was a very small school and i was in the largest class, at 18 people. usually we would have a good amount of time for everyone to change in the bathroom stalls individually, but it was going to rain in the late afternoon and because ppl in ct can't handle the rain like ppl in wa our game had been moved up so we all needed to get changed fast. whatever, i did not care, and i began to take off my uniform. it became very apparent to every girl on that team right then that i was not fat. so much so that bully girl had to give her thoughts on my body which was "wow, deadname! you really aren't fat." she said more but i refuse to quote her directly as it was horribly degrading and very rude to sex workers. but the gist was i had a body type perfect for men. i was 13 and appalled by this comment.

i know that probably seems like a pretty mediocre thing to be upset about in the grand scheme of things. but at 13 i had some... unfortunate sexual time on the school bus with another kid. over the fact that i couldn't be ace because of.... being a tease i suppose. before 13 my cousins often commented about how id dress like a slut from time to time. and i guess they had a point, i have a pretty more sense of what my body looks like and what it is doing at any moment in time. through out my life and still to this day i accidentally show more "private" areas of skin. my ass is fat and short skirts look better on me then long ones (and i honestly do not care that much if strangers get a glimpse, its not hurting anyone and you can just fucking look away). as a kid i often had plenty of "outfit malfunctions" that'd show off my boobs, they really don't make little girl clothing that fits around double ds. and once again i was small as kid, i could not fit adult shirts or bras or underwear (despite how fat my ass is i still wear teen/little girl underwear if im not wearing boxer breifs bc most woman's underwear will sag on me unless i go to an asian run store. mass produced clothing is fucking awful and a scam).

one time, with my first soccer team, the first coach had invited us all over for a halloween party. my mom didn't allow me to dress goth (she was and might still be scared i'll turn out to be a serial killer) but on halloween she allowed me to wear anything i wanted. and i wanted to be a skull fairy because i liked skulls and i loved being able to wear mostly black whenever i could. the top was strapless, the breast size a good amount too small for my honkers but that didn't stop me. mini skirt and thigh highs. i added a black feather boa because i loved boa's but being surrounded by other children meant i could hardly live my true camp-self day to day, but on halloween i could wear the biggest sparkly black boa i wanted. i also had some cool black fairy wings.

at the party she had us play some games, typical things like dunking for apples (i didn't participate in that one because im very bad at not breathing in water when its on my face), and pin the tail on the donkey, like super regular kid games. but there was one game where we were split into three teams, where one person on the team was tied up and chained to a chair while the other teammates took turns trying to find the right key to release the various padlocks along the captives body out of a large bowl of keys. first team to get their captive free wins. as you might imagine this game went on for a long time because there was a lot of fucking keys and if the key didn't work you had to return it to the bowl bc it might work for the other teams and all the keys looked extremely similar to each other. i was voted to be the captive (i wasn't really liked on my soccer team but i was fairly good at it for my first year and the coach saw promise in me and the team wasn't about friendship, it was about winning (we won 90% of our games that year)), which i was fine with because i didn't like the idea of running back and forth and getting frustrated. and in all honesty i was a little freak and for reasons unknown to me at the time, i really liked the idea of being tied up so i let it happen.

and oh boy how i had greatly misjudged how disliked i was! i was the first of the captives to get tied up, and i honestly don't know if there was a sorta mistake on the amount of supplies that were needed but after me, the two other captives were tied a lot less strictly to their chairs. they only had their wrists, ankles, and waists tied and padlocked to the chair, where as i also had my thighs and chest and tied up (no padlock on those two areas though). it quickly explained to me those were for like setting the scene or something. i accepted it but i was starting to panic a little because my chest was tied pretty tight and if i moved even a little bit my top would start to slip down. i tried to stay as still as possible and not bring any attention to my gradual double nip slip. but ya know, its hard to not wiggle a little when you've got various girls hands brushing against you as they try key after key.

the horror of it really came after one of the other teams won, the other team finishing seconds behind them, and my team had yet to find a single successful key. my boobs were fully out at this point and my skirt had rode up so my kim possible themed underwear was on full display. i was pretty embarrassed about the kim possible thing, and i suppose i was right to because my teammates absolutely thought it was lesbian behavior to have shego's smug face beaming from crotch. and to make everything worse, there was no skeleton key to this game. i was stuck there until the actual fucking keys were found. the teasing was pretty relentless, even after the mom came back into the room to see how things were going she didn't help. i asked her to help, i was on the verge of crying because i was very humiliated and wanted to go home (plus i was battling the very alien feeling of arousal), but she figured it would toughen me up to... sit through everything. eventually i was freed and i cried in the bathroom and asked to have my mom pick me up. she did, she asked me how the party was and i said it was fun but i was tired. (as a side note i'd be totally down to recreate this in a far more consensual way hahaha. being tied up and played with by some actual friends sounds so lovely)

so yeah, the comment about my body being great for men, for sex, was a bit to raw for me. i didn't say anything back though. i didn't know how to respond because all the other girls agreed. i got into the next stall as soon as possible and never changed in front of girls again.

i also never wore that skull fairy custom again unless it was with a long sleeved black turtle neck.

i became so much more conscious to cover my body up. but that never worked. i'd continue to be touched and groped until i eventually chopped those puppies off in my third year of college.

but even throwing my boobs away, even after starting t, cutting my hair short, wearing the most conservative outfits, people still touch me. i've grown fine with being touched by friends, i know they mean no harm. or... i guess i hope they don't mean any harm. i think overall people are good and have good intentions and sometimes just do things on accident and we don't have to over analyze everything.

i dont like strangers touching me. but... i'm very very awful. im no good at anything and i just, i just let it happen. every time. i let it happen. i guess i try to softly push their hands away, but i get so scared if i try any harder things will go worse. i dont speak up or say no. at most i maybe shake my head. god i wish i wasn't so fucking stupid.

but then maybe im not. the overwhelming majority of people i try to tell about these things don't believe me. or don't think its really bad that it happened. when i was in college i tried to use the woman's resource center for... ah well for like rape related stuff. but they told me i wasn't welcomed in the center and that whatever happened to me was not rape and does not warrant support. i know its wrong to use resources and support for something you've never actually for real gone through, but i was... and i guess still am desperate for something. i don't know what that is. i don't know how to define what i've gone through. i just have been told its not rape, its not really sexual assault, and its so minor that i can't even call it sexual harassment. but... i've seen people with similar stories to mine get those resources and be welcomed, embraced.

i hate to say this... but sometimes i wonder if its because i wore a tie and dress pants everywhere in college. i've never dyed my hair, and i don't really... idk i guess i don't look queer enough or feminine enough. maybe i scared people because i looked like the people who did bad things to them. i hadn't started t yet when i was rejected from the center, i hadn't even had my boobs removed. but no matter where i went there was this overall feeling that i was 100% a man and men don't go through those things very often. and it made it worse that i was a trans man, if i talked about those things i was invalidating my own gender and it made others uncomfortable. i had friends that hated to think of me before i was chosenname, that would tell me i was misgendering myself if i talked about specific things i went through. so i stopped.

i understood then that anyone who claimed themselves to be a safe person to talk to about things, to come to when you needed help, where not for me. i did not count.

i didn't mention my time in high school. i had one good year, 9th grade, at a tech school in ct. i moved to mi a year later. but i was loved, i was popular, i was just me. i still cry thinking about how much better my life could have been if i could have stayed at that school and not moved away. yeah i was being used because i was the smartest kid in the school and i was actively improving the test grades so much that i became a literal bargaining chip at a big conference for the district panel on fund allocation amongst the public schools. i was very happy with this by the way, and i had actively and enthusiastically given consent for the board members to use my grades as a means to afford more for the school, we all pretended that i wasn't moving come the next year. a few teachers joked about kidnapping me so i could keep attending the school (another thing i told them to do but this time they didn't :c). anyways, worked out well, the whole school got funded, more kids with higher test scores started attentending after me, and now the schools been completely remolded (it was originally designed as a cold war bunker turned tech school hahaha. we had a boiler room still that would constantly blow up and we'd just get random days off of school. it ruled).

then i moved to mi. everything went downhill. i become the obsession of one kid in my grade who i unfortunately had a locker right next to. again i wore a lot of short skirts, but at this point i was wearing leggings underneath as opposed to thigh highs, and i wore my blouses all the way buttoned up with a scarf acting as a diy tie. it was a killer look, id still wear it. but this guy decided i was his anime waifu. he'd try to get me alone. he'd push me up against walls to tell me how beautiful i am and how he would do anything for me. it was pretty bad because i didn't know how to make boundaries. i was scared of him getting violent with me (though he never showed any tendancies to do so... i was... well we've established im stupid). so for three years id occasionally just have to deal with some guy with a huge asian festish trying desperately to date me. i avoided my locker as much as i could.

then there was the pathetic guy. he was a year ahead of me and not interested in my at first. i was on the quiz bowl team with him and he had a bit of a reputation of going after woman who continually turned him down, and he often tried to go for the more.... aaa mentally ill girlies. he went after my friend who was a senior (also not a girl anymore) and i hated him forever after being told about it. i tried to be rude to him, though i don't know if he ever understood that or maybe i wasn't good at being rude (though i'm pretty damn good at it i think!). but after my friend graduated he suddenly started to push himself on me. at quizbowl matches, id sometimes get a little overwhelmed by all the buzzer sounds so id occasionally sit at the back of the room to get a bit of distance from the noise (which everyone was pretty cool with!), and well he'd follow me right on back. he didn't want me to be lonely he told me. i never felt lonely, but i did begin to worry that maybe i looked lonely or maybe he was lonely. but i also didn't like him, but also i was at a sporting event and he was my teammate so i can't be rude to him. so id let him sit near me. then he'd get nearer and nearer and nearer until he had his arms wrapped around me. he'd whisper in my ear and dig his fingers into my thighs, sometimes he'd pull them apart. but i never tried too hard to stop him. i don't know why.

eventually a girl in his grade and on my team noticed this, and she started sitting by me too. he stopped. i never told her thank you, but i thought it, i tried to convey it with my eyes. she didn't care much for me but she always kept her gaze on me when he was around. sometimes.... i find it hard to believe she was the first person to ever help me out of something like that.

occasionally at school the guy would get me alone and he'd be rather violent. he'd make me feel bad that i never told her to stop staring. didn't i like him? didn't i trust him? he was so alone and i was too and he was just trying to make me feel better. he threatened to sue me when i told his younger brother i didn't much care for his big brother as he pushed himself on my friend years ago. i did laugh in his face because that was such an empty threat, even someone as gullible and stupid as me could put that together.

god id never want to relive middle or high school, or even elementary school... or college... wild because i was really good at school and i've never been good at anything ever again.

now these days... ah my adult years have been a bit better. i get groped a little less now that i don't have boobs. but i don't wear as much conservative clothing as i use to. i've started wearing feminine outfits again, which are nice. i try not to let the... weird things people say to me get me down. i try not to believe i deserve those words.

i tried to get use to taking the bus again. i live an hours walk away from my job but i live on a direct bus line to it. though over a year ago... when i was trying out the buses again by myself a man came up to me. i was sitting down at the bus stop and he stood right in front me of, very close, as close as he could be. he was very clearly homeless and most definitely mentally ill so i didn't want to be mean about personal space right away. so he started talking and i slowly pushed myself to the end of the bench se we had more distance while talking. but that did not work as he just followed. his questions got weirder. he had commented about how he thinks boys look nice in skirts and stockings and my stupid fucking ass was like "oh well thats great! he seems really supportive! i guess i don't have anything to worry about!" then his hands came down on my thighs. i placed my hands on top of his hand gave them a slight push downwards, i was trying to say "please don't" but that wasn't clear enough. he instead started rubbing my legs up and down.

at this point i was like "ah fuck! again! again with something happening at a bus!" but i could not summon up enough of a fight in myself and i just kept answering his questions like a dumbass.

then he asked "where are your parents", that was an odd question. "not here, at home probably." "are you heading to school?" "no... no." i was so lost at this question. it seemed so fucking bizarre to me "what school do you go to? what school around here? where are you going?" "i graduated!" "from where? when?" "grand valley! a few years ago!" then i watched his eyes grow cold. he stopped smiling. and he turned and left me. no further questions. the bus arrived and i got on. i just stared out the window and cried silently as i slowly realized what had just happened. i was suppose to then take the bus back, but i couldn't. i called my boyfriend and cried to him and asked if he could pick me up instead and he did. he promised me he would if i ended up getting to uncomfortable.

i try so hard to get use to the bus. i think public transportation is great. but i keep getting scared. my looks get me in trouble more then they give me any benefit. he isn't the first guy to think im a kid and try stuff with me. even in college well meaning people told me their attraction to me felt incredibly illegal. i still don't really know how to process that. personally i think i'm rather ugly and unapealing. but i've had plenty of people tell me they are attracted to me but feel bad about it. and i don't know what that means.

i know i can't have an onlyfans. no matter how much i prove my age it just gets reported for being csem, same with instagram. i had to stop posting pictures of my fully clothed body on insta because even those were getting reported! i can't show my face for my works socmed bc it'll get taken down. even when there was just the back of my head people thought i was a child (and were freaked out by the content of the reel due to my perceived age).

i feel like im just trapped forever in this weird... bubble. nothing ive been through is considered to be enough. but all of it slows me down. all of it scares me. all of it continues to ruin my life. i get anxious. i get so scared. i have to be told what to do. i need people to not see me as human because when people care about me at a deeper level, when they don't just see me as some fun toy to play with and throw out in a year, i get scared.

god this has gone on for so long. i did not mean it. but i gotta get in the shower. i have to go to work. im scared and anxious and depressed but i gotta go to work. i wish i could just do art. but i've just started self harming again instead. im so stupid. but i guess writing all this out was better then cutting myself.

now if you somehow read through all this. do not call the cops for a wellness check. i will try my hardest to do suicide by cop.

also never call the cops for a wellness check on anyone ever you fucking moron. do you know what they do? do you? do you fucking know? would you believe me if i told you even a single fucking thing they've done to me? or are you just going to ignore that and call because "youre so scared for me" and you think because im white ill be safe. shut up and unfollow me. never talk to me again. block me. you are a fucking idiot and only view the world in black and white. i do not need that in my life. educate yourself on the history of cops and disabled folks, trans folks, and gay men. seriously. fucking go and learn and be a better person.

[leviathanspain]

we all fall in love sometimes

warnings: death, blood, cursing, pregnancy, miscarriage, murder

marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader

synopsis: eros & psyche myth! reader is the talk of egypt, khonshu wants her soul for the things she’s done but marc has a change of heart and instead of killing her, he takes her back to his apartment and she falls in love with him.

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you couldn’t believe that you had an egyptian god chasing you right now. you ran, your feet failing to go as fast as you needed them to when suddenly, you felt the ground rumble underneath you, and you fell, head hitting the pavement. a buzz in your head and the whispering of a voice before you blacked out.

arguing with khonshu was like arguing with the cheapskate seller from the corner store who hassled you three dollars for a pack of gum. marc was having none of it, he had tracked the girl down like he asked but upon completing the deal, he faltered, and found himself gathering her unconscious body in his arms, and taking her back to his place. khonshu couldn’t harm the girl, all he did was yell marc’s ear off about killing her. khonshu was hellbent on the girls death, ‘kill her! or i’ll get lockley to do it.’ khonshu threatened.

marc set her down on his bed and whirled around on khonshu, “you wouldn’t dare!”

khonshu cackled, ‘oh but i would!’ he blew a wind to her face and sneered, ‘she should be dead for the crimes committed against egypt and the gods! she’s insulted us for staying alive for so long. osiris would love to have an audience with her once she’s dead.’

marc growled, “since when do you count yourself in the same lot as the gods? they turned their backs on you! you’re a fucking doormat!”

khonshu hissed, ‘mark my words, marc spector. i’ll have my payment soon enough.’

marc didn’t know what he wanted to do with her. she looked so peaceful sleeping on the bed, if you ignored the dried blood from the cut on her head and her double black eyes. was she really as dangerous as khonshu said?

do what the bird wants, marc. what makes her any different from the others? steven remarked.

jake was radio silent on the entire matter, and frankly, marc didn’t know if he had gone dormant since that incident in cairo or if he just simply chose not to interact with the latter. steven said he couldn’t find jake either, but not to be alarmed.

“there’s something about her..” marc couldn’t say out loud that he felt that he had to save her from the death he would’ve inflicted, khonshu would have choked him out in a heartbeat.

she began to stir and marc hissed, “i cant let her see me..” he thought out loud and he had a great idea, he grabbed a sleep mask and set it over her eyes, just a little something until he could get her to calm down while he explained the situation.

you awoke with a start, and found your eyes blinking against a silk fabric. “what the fuc-“ you moved your hand to peel it off your eyes but another hand clasped yours and stopped you, “stop. let me explain.”

your years of mercenary work had your body yelling for self defense but you found your aching body to be little to no use, and you were still exhausted. you would hear him out, at least before you killed him.

“keep that over your eyes, it’ll be the only way we can make this work.” the voice again spoke, and you nodded, sitting up against what you could only assume was the headboard.

“so my uhm..boss? i guess- he’s after you. i saved you and well you can’t go back out into the world or else he’ll try to kill you.” marc was a shitty liar, but he tried his best to explain without letting too much on about who he was or what he was actually planning to do, “so you have to stay here, for your own safety. and for my own safety as well, you can’t look at me.”

you nodded, “well this wouldn’t be the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

marc seemed a little surprised at your reaction, “really? you don’t want to escape or do anything?”

you sighed, “listen uhh..” you realized you had never gotten his name.

“i cant tell you my name.” he commented.

you shrugged, “again, wouldn’t be the weirdest thing ever. anyway. i’ve always had to deal with death, ever since i’ve been involved in these types of things, i’ve lived with the risk of dying and now that my death is highly guaranteed, i’m not really in a mood to test those waters.” you blinked against the fabric and yawned, “plus i’ve always wanted to retire.”

marc nodded, taking the information in, “well, i’m glad we could work this out. i’ll obviously be feeding you, this is your home now pretty much, and whatever you want, i’ll give you.”

you nodded, “sounds like you’ll be having a challenge then, sir.”

marc nodded, still wary but he felt he could trust you, “so about the eye mask- you don’t have to wear that all the time. i just wanted that as a precaution but i’ll only be home at night, and it’ll be so dark that you won’t be able to see me.” marc seemed to take on a very serious tone as he continued, “promise me that you’ll never dare to look at me, curiosity can bug you forever but this will all go to shit if you dare to look at me.”

you gulped, but nodded, “ok. and my name is y/n.”

he left the next morning. he didn’t even say a goodbye or anything as you woke up and found the apartment empty. taking in the sight without your eyes being covered, you realized that he was a normal man. or at least he seemed to be. clothing was a mess, fridge was barely stocked and there was a little fish that seemed to only have one fin. you smiled, trying to settle in as best as you could.

television kept you busy, along with the phone he had provided you with. granted, you could only listen to music and take calls but never call anyone else. it was odd, but you didn’t mind, you felt like a princess.

he came home on the first night and you shut the television off, the light of the tv would’ve illuminated the man and you didn’t want to spoil this, not yet anyway.

“hi.” you spoke into the darkness upon hearing his shuffling, “hey.” he replied.

you stood up and walked over to him, grabbing his hand, they were rough, calloused. you smiled to yourself, “what did you bring me, sir?” you let out the last word with a pur that you were sure made his skin crawl.

“please don’t say it like that.” he murmured quietly as his fingers trailed the bare skin of your arm, up to your shoulder.

you smiled, “why not, sir?” again, the same tone.

he let a laugh ripple out of him and he set the plastic grocery bags on the counter and dumped the other bag filled with clothing by the edge of the dining table.

he paused at the table and grabbed your hand, setting it on his face, “tell me what you feel.”

you began to gently caress his face, “thick eyebrows. but not too thick where it’d be weird. clean shaven..” you paused upon feeling his nose, “a big nose. perfect to take a spin on..”

he laughed, “i bet you’d like that, huh.”

you cursed yourself, “you’re not wrong.”

you continued, “soft hair..curly, thick as well.”

he couldn’t help himself to continue the sexual jokes, so he smiled, “wouldn’t be the only thing that’s thick.”

you chewed on your lip, “i already mentioned your eyebrows.”

he let out a chuckle, “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know. you just seem easy to tease, like you’re on edge all the time.”

you wouldn’t be wrong, marc thought. he wasn’t sure how she’d take this, but considering she were flirting with him and practically draping herself on top of him, he took it as a good sign.

“come to bed now, im exhausted.” she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bed, but marc paused.

“so you’re okay with this?” he was more talking about sex now, and the assumed arrangement that had been made.

she shrugged, “seems only fair i fuck you for the things you provide me. im not even being a whore, it’s the basic guidelines of any misogynistic marriage.” she seemed to be deep in her logic and marc didn’t want to argue that this was anything but a marriage, but she seemed to know that.

he sat on the bed, his shoes were kicked off in an instant and you sat down next to him, reaching out for him in the dark. he grabbed your outstretched hand and set it on his waist, and he pulled you on top of him.

words weren’t exchanged as he kissed your neck, and you began to unbuckle his belt. it was only when you began to sink yourself onto him, your panties torn with the graze of his hand, that you both let out a string of curses.

you moaned deeply as he filled you to the brim, “let me hear how bad you fucking want it.” he whispered, and you rocked on his cock, his jeans a rough fabric against the soft skin of your ass and thighs.

he gripped your waist tightly and you hissed as he bucked him hips into you.

“fuck!” you hissed, moving to tug on his hair and he let out a groan as he leaned into your shoulder, closing his eyes as you bounced on his cock.

you didn’t even so much as blink as he came, and you were torturous as you continued to fuck yourself on him, chasing your own orgasm as all he could do was sit and shudder at the friction to his sensitive cock.

eight months later…

he was aware of your growing belly. you had let him know and he was so much as shocked as he was happy. he was ecstatic, he hugged you and promised you that he’d never leave your side.

these past months had led to the two of you to a path full of love. he worshipped you, and you kept your promise to never gaze upon him. the thought next bit at you until you were looking at yourself in the mirror, gazing at your belly and wondering what parts of him your child would have. would your baby have his eyes? his hair? his coloring?

you weren’t sure. of anything and sometimes that thought kept you awake at night.

he had revealed his name just a few months ago, after the discovery of the other people he called “alters” you learned to navigate life with marc, steven and the personality you had yet to meet, jake.

steven was doting, excited for fatherhood while marc retained his protectiveness. he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were safe.

you were laying next to marc after another day of your typical activities, eating, sleeping, eating and worrying about the man next to you.

“do you think we’ll move soon? the baby won’t be able to live here it’s too cramped..” you worried and marc seemed to nod in the darkness, “im working on it. don’t worry, i don’t want you to get sick.”

marc went to bed unaware of the plan you had. you moved from the bed upon hearing his typical snore. you waddled to the bathroom, hands holding onto your swollen belly. you didn’t bother to shut the door as you lit the candle, grabbing the holder and waddled back to the bed.

you swallowed your guilt as the light hovered over marc’s face.

you held in your gasp as you looked at him.

he was beautiful.

the moment of shock didn’t last as marc woke up, eyes fluttering open with pure rage as he saw what you had done. he got up and bumped against you, the candle wax spilling down the front of your belly.

you cried out, screaming as the hot wax burned you. marc didn’t say anything as he rushed out of the apartment, leaving you alone.

it had been days. days since marc had abandoned you, and days since you had committed your grave mistake.

you begged, every night, to anyone or anything who would hear you out.

“please! return marc to me, please! anything, i’ll give anything!” you cried, sobs racking your body. you were still heavily pregnant, the burn on your belly was barely healing and it still caused a lot of pain.

you weren’t sure of what the future had to offer for you and you often contemplated leaving the apartment, for what would be the first time in almsot a year. but you had always been too afraid to even turn the doorknob.

‘don’t worry, my child.’ a harsh voice cut into your thoughts, and you stopped your crying to see a bird like creature towering over you as you sat on the bed.

‘i am marc spector’s patron. im the reason he is alive and i’m also the reason he met you.’ he seemed to sneer at you, ‘he failed me, foolish idiot he is. i told him that not doing as i asked would come with great consequences, and that one day, the deal would be fulfilled.’

you gulped, “where is he? is he safe?” you thought back to the burn on his shoulder, and cringed.

‘he is recovering. i’ve given him refuge, so he can rehash his mistakes and not let this,’ he motioned to you, ‘cloud his judgement. it’s happened once before, it’ll happen again.’

“what was the deal?” you finally asked, unaware of the true circumstances that led to you being there.

‘marc spector was tasked on killing you. he failed and instead saved you and let himself fall in love with you.’ the words fell like a heavy stone in a pond. you wanted to explode but the bird in front of you didn’t seem like he’d enjoy that all that much.

the bird continued, ‘you can save him. in exchange for one thing.’

the words seemed to fly out of you, “what?! anything!”

the bird cackled out a harsh laugh, ‘your child. your child’s life for the life that marc owed me.’

you wanted to scream, beg for anything else but before you could say anything else, your body was slammed into the headboard of the bed and it began.

the pain was indescribable. if you could compare the pain of the bird reaching inside your womb, shredding your child to pieces, and ringing your body out like a towel, it would be a fate worse than death. you weren’t sure how many times you had blacked out, or how many times you screamed, but your throat was raw and the bed underneath you was soaked red.

‘two lives for the price of one’ the words echoed in your head as you stumbled towards the bathroom. and you weren’t sure if you’d ever see marc again, the twisting of your heart in your stomach as you realized what was happening. you had miscarried, and you were dying.

“marc..” you croaked out one last time, before the pain subsided and your eyes fluttered shut.

[teeto-peteto]

A little point that is not covered in this timeline is the definitive end of Pyke's friendship with Sarah in Sentinel's Of Light Absolution. After Viego is defeated in SOL, the Ruined champions are reversed to normal, including Miss Fortune. Im not a writer myself but if i had to make a rough sketch about how i would write something about it, it would look like this.

After battle, Pyke is not tired, nor exhausted, at least not from the battle itself, once Ruined champions are reverted to normal, his eyes stumble upon Sarah, getting help from Graves to stand up. His blood boils, he turns his head everywhere, doubting himself. He needs a time out, just a few minutes, but he shouldnt split from the team. But does it matter? He's not helpless, he'll find a way, he doesnt feel like he belongs anyway, he often makes the team uncomfortable by mere presence, the only people he ever felt that he belonged to are already far away in Ionia and Freldjord. He's about to go far from there just for a couple of minutes to calm down, his eyes meet with the rookie's eyes, there's a small understanding, they can tell something is making him horribly mad. 'Dont go too far' is the only thing the rookie says, before Pyke heads off some meters from the scene, the further he goes, the more the anger flows through his veins, easier to let it out once he gets far enough.

Sarah's head hurts a lot, as she tries to understand the situation she's on right now as Akshan and Lucian explain, along with some comments from Graves and some reassuring words from Senna. But she sees something with the corner of her eye, she turns her head around to see Pyke already on the distance, walking by himself. Her muscles are sore, but she manages to walk by her own in a little fast walk, heading the same direction. Her mind runs with thoughts, trying to connect the dots in her mind, trying to considerate if this is a good idea, if he would understand. She's just a few meters far from him, she shouts his name, trying to get his attention. Pyke stops on his tracks, but doesnt turn around. Once he stops, Sarah walks a couple more steps closer to him. 'Pyke-'

Her sentence is cut off by the sound of his blade pointing at her as he turns around, but he doesnt face her, he looks down at the ground. 'Don't. Just dont. Don't you dare talk to me.' Sarah's expression fixates on him, her usual pridefulness is battling aganist her attached feeling of friendship that has gone on and off between them for long years. She tries speaking again, but he wont let her.

'I trusted you' He keeps looking at the ground, his hand tightly gripping his blade, the other one completely clenched on a fist. 'I trusted you. We trusted you. I thought what happened a year ago meant something to you.' Memories of them stopping Viego with Illaoi, Braum, Ahri and Yasuo flood his mind, it hurts to remember. 'I told you everything that happened to me. I spared you. I promised myself not to hurt you. I called you my captain. I told you about my worst memory in my entire life. You didnt listen. You never listen. You almost got me killed. With your own hands. You almost made it, i cant believe i let this happen to me again. My own captain kills me again. Over, and over. I foolishly trusted you. You are just like the rest of captains.'

Sarah tries to speak up, bringing her hands trying to gesticulate along with a improvised answer, to no avail. Pyke looks up at her. 'I mean nothing to yo, don't I?' His hand trembles in anger, gripping his blade tightly. 'I dont want to ever see you again. I dont want to know anything about you. Do not try contacting me. Dont talk about me. Dont look for me. Dont you dare test me again cause i swear when that time comes, im not going to spare you again.' He lowers his blade, and heads back to the sentinels, leaving Sarah there, without room to talk back. Whatever she had to say, doesnt matter to him anymore.

bilgewater canon divergence weewoo weewoo

Put some spare weekend time on this, it looks wonky and i'll transcript it if its unreadable due to quality. A little timeline of events on Sarah, Illaoi and Pyke friendship mutations until actuality. Again this is probably wonky and it's the first look, there's things that might be changed but this is overall how it looks in my mind. Hope its useful to understand a bit better?

[berriesandcream547]

Battlefield

Wanda x Natasha x Reader

Angst

Warnings: Mentions of death

You don't have permission to repost my work anywhere but here.

The last person gets shot down. We’re running. Turning corners as fast as we can. The bombs will go off any minute. “Nat, I’m on my way back to the quinjet! Do you copy?!” No response. “Nat! Natasha?!” I’m yelling through the coms, knowing everybody hears. “Natasha I need you to answer! Please answer! Wanda she’s not answering!” I��m almost about to turn around to find her until somebody wraps their arms around me. “Y/n we have to go!”

“No please! Let me go look for her!” Cap pulls me further away from where she may be. “STEVE LET ME GO! WANDA HELP ME PLEASE!”

He continues dragging me back to the jet. We eventually get there, right before the bombs go off. “NO!” I break down. “NO! NO! NO! WANDA YOU DIDN’T HELP ME! YOU LOVE HER TOO, WHY DIDN’T YOU HELP!?” I storm over to Wanda, as she breaks down crying with me. “She’s gone y/n.”

“No she’s not. Why aren’t you as upset as I am!?” Wanda grabs my hands and holds me still. “I’ve lost enough people to know when someone’s gone. Y/n she’s gone.” I snatch away from her grasp and go to my bunk. On the way I’m shouting to nobody and everybody, out of anger. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS DID NOTHING! SHE’S STILL ALIVE!”

I sit down on my bed. “She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive...”, is all I keep repeating. I can feel she’s still alive.

We get back to the compound, and I wait for everybody else to get off first so I could walk by myself. There’s a knock. “Y/n…I’m sorry princess. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Wanda please. Not right now please..”

I hear footsteps descend. I prepare myself to get up. I finally walk to the compound. “Miss Y/l/n, you’re needed in the conference room.” Jarvis speaks out. “Could you tell them not tonight Jarvis..? Please.”

I wait a few moments to see if I’ll get a response. “Mr. Stark says it’s urgent.”

I make my way to the conference room. The door opens and everybody looks at me. “What is it..?”

“Y/n..please sit.”

“I’d prefer to stand.”

“Babe please…just take a seat.” Wanda asks, and I sit down.

“Y/n we’re so sorry. And we’re gonna tell you this because we love you.”

“She’s not dead guys.”

“Her body was found. When they found her she was barely alive-“

“That means she’s gonna be fine now right?” I ask. “They took her to the hospital and preformed surgery on her. There was a lot of internal bleeding. Y/n…they couldn’t save her.” Steve stands there, his eyes tearing up as he tells me.

“No…that can’t be true. Tony that’s not true is it? Please tell me it isn’t true..”

“I’m sorry.” I stand up slowly and walk out the room. I make my way up to the roof. Our comfort space. Me and Nat’s comfort space.

Sitting down softly, I take in a deep breath and play with my hands. “You know…you didn’t have to leave me. You promised us. You told me and Wanda we would get married. We were gonna have kids. God I can’t even imagine how Wanda is feeling right now. She’s lost so much already. Then you go and do this..”

Tears paint my face and the cold wind passing by piercing my skin.

“I love you. We love you. Please come back.”

I lay my head in my hands and just cry. It’s all I could do. “Please.”

I feel a presence and I look around. Natasha. “Baby?”

“Natasha?” I immediately get up and run to her. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?” I hit her in her chest.

“Please calm down. It’s okay.“

“NO ITS NOT OKAY! THEY SAID YOU WERE DEAD!“

“Who?”

“The news! Everyone! Where did you go?!”

“I went into hiding for a little bit.”

“Hiding? HIDING?! WE WERE ON A MISSION! YOU CANT JUST GO INTO HIDING! FUCK!”

“I’m sorry. Come here, I’m sorry.” She brings me in to hug me. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been a hot mess these last few hours. Oh god I didn’t even check on Wanda.” I go to pull away. Feeling her pull me back has me just a tiny bit flustered, plus confused. “You can’t tell anybody I’m alive right now..”

“Wait what? Natasha no, come on.” I pull her slightly, and she pulls away. “I’m serious. Please.”

“Why not?”

“The red room is back and I need to go into hiding. I just wanted to let you and Wands know that I’m okay.” My breathing starts to get a bit heavy. That means she would be at even more risk, knowing she’s gonna try to bring them down. “You need to be here with me and Wanda. All of us. We can help you.”

“This is a mission that I need to do alone. I can’t have any of you getting hurt.”

“Your going to get hurt Nat!”

“I’ll be okay..”

‘YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!”

“I’ll always come back to you two. All of you. Please trust me.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“For quite some time..”

“What is ‘quite some time’?”

“Almost a year or two. It depends.”

“Nat please stay.” She pulls out a phone. Burner phone I assume. “I have to go. I’m so sorry. I love you guys so much. I’ll be back in no time.”

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova, if you leave, we’re done.”

“There’s no way your doing this. Right now, your doing this?!”

“I love you, I do. But I need you. I want you to stay alive.”

“Y/n I have to go. Like I said, I love you guys.” She takes one of her necklaces off and one of her many bracelets, handing them to me. “Give one to Wands and I want you to keep the other. These are really important to me and you are really important to me.” I take them. “I’ll try to contact you whenever I can. I promise. I love you.”

No response. “Please tell me you love me back Y/n. Please.”

“I love you Nat.” With that she leaves. If there were ever “last words”, she had to here for me, I would want it to be I love you.

I go into the building, searching for Wanda. Most likely in her room. “Wanda! Nat’s alive. She’s alive!”

‘She’s not alive y/n didn’t you hear what they said?”

“I was just talking to her. You have to believe me. You out of all people have to believe me.”

“SHE’S GONE! DON’T MAKE THIS HARDER THAN THIS ALREADY IS!”

“Please don’t yell. You know how I feel about yelling.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s gone. She’s not coming back.”

“Check the cameras or something. Go into my mind. PLEASE BELIEVE ME!”

“Y/n go away please. Let me be, just for the night.”

“WANDA PLEASE!”

“LEAVE!” Her eyes glow red and a red stream shoots towards me. Luckily I dodge it.

For the past few days, I’ve been trying to convince everyone she’s alive. I ended up locked in up in a room, per Tony’s orders. Until I got myself together. Wanda came to visit me a few times a day. Today she only came once. Kinda made me worry. I ring Steve to my room. “Steve, could you tell Wanda I want to talk to her please?”

“She’ll be back soon. She went to the farmers market.”

The farmers market is closed today....

[x3kristax3]

After Duskwood- Chapter 1

next chapter

I sit there and watch everything from my apartment in the city and I'm in tears. I try to call Jessy but no answer. I open the group chat

MC: guys…. I don't know how to say this…

Dan comes on

Dan: what is it?

MC: it was richy

Cloe comes on

Cloe: what no you saw him tied up with Hannah

MC: i know 😭 but its true. Someone tell me they see Jessy

Dan: yeah she just bolted to the room crying

MC: tell her im on my way. I just booked a flight, and rental car im coming to you guys

I sign off my flight leaves at 6am and that gives me 4 hours. I pack my bag and arrange for a cab.

Its the next day with layovers and delays. I step off the plane. Phone still in my hand and hasn't gone off with Jake. I'm getting worried he didn't make it out or the FBI got him.

I sign back in while waiting for my luggage and open the chat with just Jake

MC: im on my way to the spot. Please answer me

Jake comes on

Jake: I just got here drive safe. They are still looking for me.

He signs off just as fast 

MC: i can't wait to see you

I see my luggage and grab it and head to get my rental car. I put the address he gave me in the navigation and drive there. I pull over to rest my eyes as I've barely slept in 3 days. I finally pull up to a rundown motel and I'm nervous. I skip the front desk as he told me his room number. I'm carrying my luggage and I walk up to his room and knock on it. I see the curtain move from the corner and then hear the door unlock from inside. He's standing inside and I'm mesmerized. I knew he had black hair but wow. I drop my luggage and wrap my arms around him and cry. He pulls me close then lets go. He grabs my bags real fast and locks the door again. I'm standing in the hallway and he puts my bags down. 

" I'm so sorry MC"  he says

I cant even say anything as i hug him again and this time i dont cry i just hug him tight.

"I didn't get Richy out in time" Jake says

I turn away from him "i still can't believe it was him '' I say sitting down on the bed and my phone starts ringing. It's closer to Jake.

"It's Jessica" he says and hand me the phone

I answer and its video chat we both look horrible from crying and lack of sleep

"Dan says you were coming to Duskwood?" She says

"Yeah I made a stop to see Jake" I say looking at him

"When will you be here?" She asks and i see her looking around

"Tomorrow I need some sleep. Try and get some sleep too" i say

"I'll try i think I'm gonna keep seeing him" she says

"Jessy, Jake tried to get him out and couldn't he's really gone'' I say crying again. Jake rubs my back but stays off the camera

"I'm gonna hug you tight tomorrow but I'll let you go" she says

"Bye Jessy" I say as I end the chat

"I hate to say this right now but protecting you is my main mission now. I can't have you stay in this room in case they find me." Jake says looking at his screen

"I know i just wish i could stay just one night in your arms" I say as I look at him as he sit next to me "specially with everything that has happened"

"I meant everything I told you" he says grabbing my face "i love you and i just want to keep you safe. I'm going to start trying to clear my name so we can have a sense of security with each other"

I hug him tight again this time he kisses me and the world stops moving. He pulls away my eyes still closed "just how i imagined it….. the world stopped" i say as i stand up.

"I got you another room. I did get a second key for it so i can try and come see you" he says as he hands me the key

"Tomorrow ill be heading to Duskwood you know that right?" I say with a sigh as i take the key

"I know" he says looking away from me

"That means i wont be back until im done there" i say looking at him then i hear the computer go off and i look at it

"We will figure this out but please go they are close" he says handing me my luggage i kiss him one more time real fast and walk out the door. I hear him close it and lock it as i go to find the room.

[thewayshedreamed]

Congrats on the milestone!!! I was wondering if you could write a combination of the prompts 2 (“c’mere, you can sit on my lap until i’m done working.”) and 21 ( “i’m bored. come over and sit on my dick.”) from the smutty prompts for Nessian. Thank you and congrats again <3

Thank you for the prompt and the love, nonnie! I'm not going to lie, I shamelessly abandoned my word count limit for this one. I have no excuse other than I got carried away.

Hope you enjoy! This one's for you, lovely! (and everyone who enjoys a bit of Nessian smut. Except those of you in the gc. Y'all know who you are and why).

—

Nesta hated when Cassian's work ran late, especially when she hadn't seen him in days. She was temporarily placated by their active text exchange that afternoon, complete with work grumblings, friend gossip, and inside jokes. Cassian was her best friend and boyfriend all rolled into one deliciously built package.

His millionth text of the day interrupted her thoughts.

I'm bored.

I'm sorry, she replied. Me too. And I miss you.

Cassian: Miss you too, Sweetheart.

Nesta considered that. He must not have gathered her true meaning given the tone of his reply, but she supposed it was difficult to convey via text. What she meant was that she missed his callouses scraping over her skin, the heat of his kisses against her neck, his weight cradled between her thighs. They were several days overdue.

She typed a quick response to drive her point home. No, babe. I miss you, miss you.

The ellipsis pulsed, disappeared, and pulsed again. Nesta bit her lip to contain her smile. It seemed her boyfriend was on the same page.

Oh? he sent back. Then, almost immediately after, Come over and sit on my dick.

Nesta barked a laugh. Cassian wasn't shy in any capacity, especially in matters of sex, but his text was blunt even by his standards. She would be lying if she claimed it didn't make her core clench in anticipation.

I can't believe that worked, she admitted. Give me 20 minutes.

—

Cassian's door was unlocked when she arrived. Nesta was usually grateful that he worked from home considering the flexibility it offered, but she didn't particularly love how it interfered with her plans for the evening. He was seated at the dining table with his laptop in front of him, sitting on what sounded like a conference call and finishing up whatever data entry he needed to finish.

None of it was conducive to their arrangement.

He mouthed "sorry" over the screen of his computer, shooting her a wink for good measure. Nesta had already considered a number of possibilities on her way over, and the small gesture alone had her skin erupting in goose flesh. She tugged at the hem of her skirt and struggled to get situated on the couch nearby. Comfort seemed a distant goal when every movement she made riled her more.

A true test of her self-control came at hearing Cassian sign off of his call for the day, especially when every muscle in her body was poised to spring off the couch on a moment's notice. Rather than orient directly to her, his focus remained on the screen of his computer. His brows were furrowed in concentration, negating any possibility that he meant to antagonize her.

"You know," she challenged, "I didn't come over here to watch you work the whole time."

He glanced at her through his side eye, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? What did you come over for, Sweetheart?"

Nesta's cheeks burned, but she squared her shoulders. "You'll have to refer back to our texts. It's not my job to remember your promises."

Cassian huffed a laugh and groaned as he leaned back in his chair. With his fingers laced, he reached his hands toward the ceiling in a long stretch. Nesta could see the impressive length tightening his pants, and her mouth went dry. At least she wasn't the only one affected.

He caught her in admiration and shot her a lazy smile. Her eyes trailed the handsome edges of his face, his broad chest.

"C'mere," he rasped. "You can sit on my lap until I'm done working."

His hand reached down to adjust himself, and he hissed against the contact. Nesta felt less self-conscious about her growing need to cross her legs to relieve some of the tension. Her voice was low, sultry.

"I didn't come over to sit on your lap either, Cassian."

His gaze darkened, his hand sliding beneath the waistband of his pants. "Then get over here and do as I told you."

A shiver ran down her spine. She sat transfixed by the movement of his hand and how he finally freed himself from his pants. Every part of her burned to touch him. The command in his voice had been her undoing; all good sense, gone. Her legs shook through her journey to close the space between them, but he didn't seem to notice.

Cassian groaned his approval as she straddled his lap, his large hand moving in a long stroke up and down his length. Nesta's position allowed him full access beneath her skirt, and he cursed under his breath when he realized she wore nothing underneath. Their lips crashed together, Nesta's hands poised against his shoulders. Cassian wrapped his arm around her waist to lift her over his cock and allowed gravity alone to ease her down until her hips sat flush against his.

Nesta moaned, desperate for friction. Her hips canted automatically until Cassian's rough voice and strong hands stopped her in her tracks.

He tutted his disapproval. "I never said you could move, Sweetheart. I still have work to finish."

"Cass," she whined, unashamed of her arousal. "Please."

"I'll take care of you, I promise." He pressed a kiss behind her ear, reaching behind her to resume his work. "For now, keep things warm for me, baby."

Nesta whimpered and gripped his shoulders. How could he ask that of her? Another couple of minutes, and her hips would be rolling whether she offered them permission or not. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the sound of the keys working behind her.

But then she was thinking about his deft fingers, how they wrought pleasure from her in immeasurable ways. How his hands always knew where she needed firm pressure of a delicate, teasing touch to—

"Nesta," Cassian warned, his voice hoarse. "What did I tell you about moving?"

He nipped her ear in warning. She forced her hips to settle, silently cursing them for their betrayal. The last thing she needed was Cassian holding out on her any longer.

"Sorry," she gritted out, "I'm— I don't know." Her mind was all over the place, reduced to some primitive by the need between her legs.

He made no moves to remove her from his cock, and she breathed a sigh of relief. His fingers resumed their work, but they would no longer serve to distract her in the process. She needed to think of something less promising, but she came up empty any time she tried.

Cassian added insult to injury, running his nose up and down the length of her neck. Nesta opened up for him, careful not to move her lower body in the process for fear that he would pull away. His lips left a path of soft kisses where his nose had left fire in its wake, and Nesta was a single kiss away from snapping altogether.

"Fuck," he rasped. Her hold tightened on him at the sound of his voice. There wasn't a thing about the man that didn't affect her. "Nesta, you're—" He paused to gather his wits, buried his forehead against her neck. "You're dripping."

To her horror, she realized he was right. Her arousal coated her inner thighs and the skin just above where their bodies came together. She was making an all out mess in her boyfriend's lap, and he had yet to move.

Nesta moaned, tilting her head back to encourage his affections against her neck. "Please hurry," she breathed. "I've done what you asked. Please."

Cassian growled against her skin. How he always reduced her to a begging, pleading mess was beyond her. There wasn't another aspect of her life where she resorted to it, but for him, she would do it shamelessly.

He placed another path of kisses, rougher this time, down the side of her neck and over her collarbones. When he refocused his attention on his work, Nesta let her forehead hit his broad shoulder. Her fingers were white-knuckled against him as she fought her most base urges.

Blessedly, she heard some clicking of the trackpad behind her. In another number of seconds, Cassian stood to lay her roughly atop the table. His hands explored her body, gripping her possessively in all the right places until she was a writhing mess, his order be damned.

"So eager." He moved to grip her wrists in his hand, pinning them over her head. The other gripped her thigh at his side. "Go on, then. Fuck me, Nesta."

She didn't need to be told twice. Her hips rolled against him, taking him deeper than before. Her feet pressed into the strong muscles of his ass in encouragement, but he remained still while he watched their bodies come together. Nesta couldn't think beyond his name rolling from her lips and how badly she needed more, more, more. Before she could say as much, Cassian's restraint snapped.

He widened his stance, spreading her legs farther apart and changing their angle. His hand left her thigh in favor of pressing a supportive arch to the small of her back, his hips snapping roughly into hers.

They dissolved into a symphony of muttered curses and groans. Nesta cried out her pleasure when her release barreled through her, earning a string of praise from Cassian.

"That's it. You're so tight around my cock, Sweetheart," he murmured, his breath leaving him in huffs with each punishing thrust. His eyes snapped up to hers, and she fought to keep her heavy lids open for him. His brow was drawn together in pleasure, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Fighting his release was wearing on him, and Nesta could tell he wouldn't be far behind her.

"Gods," he ground out. "You were so good for me, baby. You know that?"

His thrusts came faster, and Nesta cried out. Another world-shattering orgasm was close, so close, when she hadn't thought it possible so soon. Cassian noticed when her pleasure ratcheted up once more, and a look of determination crossed his handsome face. He slid his hand from her back, and pressed it to her lower abdomen, using his thumb to draw broad circles around her clit.

Her hands fought against his grip, but to no avail. She wanted to touch him, to drag her hands all over his body and run them through his hair. More than that, she thought she would need to secure her body against his to ride out another wave of pleasure like the one before.

"Pleasedon'tstop," she muttered, her eyes screwed shut.

"I won't," he promised, his hips pressing into hers and making her dizzy. "Not until that pretty pussy comes for me again."

It took only seconds for Cassian to get his wish. Nesta's cries echoed off the walls of his small apartment, her body shaking through the aftershocks of her release. His hips slammed home when he met his own, his large frame leaning over her body as he spilled inside her.

Once he released her hands, Nesta moved them to his shoulders to draw idle patterns over his skin. Cassian lifted his head to press a kiss to her mouth before separating them and standing to right their clothes. They surveyed the area, how his work was scattered about and his cup of water lay spilled over the floor nearby, and broke out into laughter.

"What am I going to do with you?" he teased, pulling her against his chest in a hug.

Nesta hummed, her first thought sliding past her lips. "Love me."

Cassian placed a kiss to her hair. "Yeah," he murmured. "I will."

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette Changes Schools: A funny little Lila salt prompt

So, there are a lot of ‘Marinette changes schools’ au’s and I love a whole bunch of them don't get me wrong. BUT the one thing I haven’t seen yet is Marinette changing schools not because of Lila or salt but simply because her parents are moving and they want her to attend a school close to home. So without further ado let me sell you on my little idea: 

Lila has been plotting weeks worth of plans and lies, she’s thought up some sob stories about being stalked, about near death experiences, about celebrities that are like her family. She has plans for Marinette all the ways she could make the girl look bad and all the ways she could force Adrien to see her. That all goes out the window one day when she gets to school and it's a sob fest. There is a clear air of dread and dismay, the blue skies she saw on the way to school replaced with heavy storm clouds. And when she gets to class it's worse. Marinette and Alya are hugging and crying, Adrien looks like he's been shot, Nino and Kim are demanding to know ‘why’ even Chloe looks upset, her blue eyes a little glassy. Lila quickly learns why, Marinette’s parents' business is doing GREAT so great in fact that they have decided to open a second location! The twist? They also decided to move INTO the new location and with it being on the other side of Paris and her parents fears for their daughters safety that means Marinette is moving to a new school!

Now Lila doesn’t even have to school her face into a practiced expression of shock. She genuinely is shocked here she’d been planning months in advance picturing the ways she would destroy her rivals life and steal her friends! And now just like that Marinette is MOVING? Of course Lila quickly decides this is a good thing! After all if Marinette is out of the picture ruling the school will be that much easier. Sure Chloe might be queen bee but with Marinette gone people will be looking to replace her! In walks Lila Rossi, a gorgeous upstart model with a heart of gold and connections coming out of her bangs! She’d rule the school and Adrien would fall for her, then Marinette would probably come crawling back desperate for her old friends only to learn she’d snatched them all up! It was brilliant! And with Marinette gone she could probably do it in record time! So Lila covers up her smirk and says she’s devastated to hear that the twin tailed girl would be leaving and begins plotting.

In the month that follows Lila leaves Marinette alone letting her have her friends for what would be for the last time. After all if everyone still loved the designer when she left they’d be all the more eager to replace her with a new and better version. Of course just because Lila is playing nice doesn’t mean she enjoys it. Alya is practically glued to the girl and ignores Lila even when she’s not trying to sabotage Marinette. Adrien is acting like his life is ending and all anyone will talk about is Marinette. When she checks social media it's all just pictures of ‘old-great times with Marinette’ or new photos and videos of helping the girl pack up and move into her new room, which Lila seethes about for a week when she sees the photos of the spacious luxurious room with a private bath. Apparently the Dupain-Cheng’s new bakery was in a pretty ritzy rich neighborhood. During school Marinette is mobbed by a constant stream of people begging her to stay and when they accept that not happening they all at least beg her to ‘come back and visit’ Marinette promises and Lila has to hide her snort. Fat chance of that actually happening. 

Finally the last day arrives and Lila has to hold back the urge to gag as everyone fills the nearby park giving Marinette gifts and heartfelt goodbyes. Adrien is the last one to offer his gift and Lila seethes as Marinette gingerly opens the box with a gasp and pulls out two brand new pink hair ribbons, and Adrien goes on to say that they’re made of imported silk! SILK, as if the little baker brat deserved silk! The whole exchange is cliche and romantic as Marinette removes her current hair ribbons to tie in the new ones and Adrien ties the old ones around his wrist like some idiot who doesn’t realize what a love struck longing look he's giving his ‘good friend’. But Lila just keeps reminding herself its just a bit longer and sure enough not long after the hideously gooey exchange between Adrien and Marinette is over the designer is leaving with more tears and farewells. FINALLY Lila thinks she can get back to what matters! Ruling her empire.

As it turns out ruling her empire is not what she thinks. For the first month after Marinette leaves all anyone will talk about is the photos she’s posted online. The first week its ALL about HER new school is a private well known academy with uniforms, and isn't Marinette cute in it? And look at her in her custom black kitty thigh highs? Lila wants to scream, but not as much as when she catches Adrien drooling over the photo of said thigh highs and twirling the old nasty hair ribbons around his wrist. The second week its all about the video tour of her new home and school that Marinette sent Alya. Lila glares the whole time as Alya puts the video on the projector at lunch so everyone can see the big new gorgeous bakery and the beautiful house on the second floor and her stupid big bedroom that should belong to someone like herself and not some bratty bakers daughter! By the third week Lila has had enough and fakes some nasty texts from Marinette hoping to speed up the process of helping her classmates move on to HERSELF. It backfires spectacularly with Alya going on the warpath to learn who would dare frame Marinette now that she’s gone. Lila is starting to realize that somehow Marinette has reached a higher level of popularity now that she’s gone. But she reminds herself it won't last forever that in ‘just a little bit longer’ everyone will forget the baker. Right?

A little bit longer. Never happens. Lila asks the girls to hang out that weekend with plans of winning them over with some juicy celeb story? Alya says they all already made plans to hope aboard the train to spend the whole weekend at Marinette’s new place! Lila tries to corner Adrien into a date after a photo shoot. He disappears and all she hears from the workers on set is that he's been looking up some new bakery on the other side of town. [Marinette is suddenly being visited by Chat Noir every other night but she figures she must have moved closer to where his civilian self lives if hes dropping by so much.] She tries to throw a party for the class? They can't. Marinette will be coming out to the park today! With her new school friends!

AH HA! Lila see’s opportunity and decides to tag along. After all if Marinette has new friends Lila can twist it! She’ll whisper about her replacing them all! Make them hate Marinette’s new friends! Fill them with jealousy till they hate Marinette! It's BRILLIANT! And, it fails in less than two minutes, with Alya learning about Aurore being a ballet dancer and the two girls bonding over their mutual love of DANCE?? How the heck was Lila supposed to know Alya had been a champion ballet dancer in her younger years! Then Nino is bonding with some kid named Allen or whatever about classical vs modern music and how to blend the two! And some kid named Claude is joking with Kim, Max, and Alix! And this is definitely not how things were supposed to go!

The worst part is Adrien, who is passive aggressively fighting for Marinette against Kagami AND Felix who are both all too eager to show how ‘close’ they’ve gotten to the baker's daughter while Adrien’s been across the city. Kagami is all to happy to show off that she ALSO bought Marinette some new silk hair ribbons [in a red shade that happens to match her fencing uniform] while Felix eagerly wisks Marinette away the moment Kagami and Adrien are distracted the two fencers find him openly flirting with an oblivious Marinette her hair down because ‘oh felix was nice enough to help me get some leaves out of my hair and said i should leave it like this!’ [while both Kagami and Adrien agree she looks beyond cute they know this means war.] Needless to say Lila didn’t realize that Marinette was that damn popular with men and woman.

The week after the meet up Lila is worn so thin she’s ready to snap. Not only did the class not get jealous but they actually became FRIENDS with all of Marinette’s new buddies and were planning many more meet ups including a paintball war over the baker girl that saturday. Adrien had taken to openly mumbling to himself about changing schools and how he ‘cant believe’ his own flesh and blood would so openly flirt with HIS very good friend! And what was with Kagami showing off how easily she can pick up and carry Marinette? And why did she invite Marinette to watch their next tournament! He needed to train, what if he lost?? In front of Marinette?! And then she thought he was too weak to keep her safe like all good friends are supposed to do! Clearly Kagami was trying to replace him as Marinette’s very good friend! Poor Nino who was sitting next to the boy had actually volunteered to switch with Lila but she came up with a lie to avoid it, she’d had enough of hearing about Marinette from Alya and Juleka and the rest of the girls, she didn’t also need to hear it from Adrien! 

It all comes to a head that Saturday during the paintball tournament when Lila now at her wits end her plans out the window her schemes barely thought out hopes to find something ANYTHING to ruin Marinette’s day and reputation and everything. But Lila just so happens to get completely pelted with paintballs everytime she so much as moves and then later gets ignored when trying to wow Marinette’s new friends, and then gets called out by Felix and Kagami snaps and finally she snaps and SCREAMS and runs off and not even a dark little butterfly comes to help her ruin the perfect day. As it turns out Hawkmoth was a little preoccupied with trying to save his business after all the computers and data involved in his precise scheduling were mysteriously corrupted suddenly freeing up his son's time and schedule so he could spend more with HIS very good friend and no one else's. Kagami and Felix apparently had the same idea as when he gets to her new house their already their doing their best to get on her parents good side.

Basically just give me some comedic, fluffy, Lila salty, Marinette changes school fics. Because I love them ok.

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[lovelyghostlyharmony]

The vampire diaries- Klaus x abused reader

"You're not seeing him," Klaus stated. "He's just coming to apologize." You mumbled. "Do you really believe that sicko's coming to apologize?!" he shot back. Every year, on your birthday for the last 3 years you had been in the military, your uncle Mark came to visit, your uncle who had been sexually assaulting and beating you for years. He was the last member of your family alive, so you had no one else to tell. It worked like clockwork, that was until a few weeks ago when Klaus caught him in the middle of the act. He was coming to take you to dinner when he found the door locked. You never locked your door, so he knew something was wrong. Kicking it down, his eyes widened in complete shock as he saw what your uncle was doing to you, you silently crying. The shock didn't last long, as the look turned to disgust then pure anger as his eyes glowed. He grabbed the closest thing to him, a metal ruler, and lunged straight at your uncle, who moved, narrowly avoiding a stab to the heart. Screaming, he pulled up his trousers and ran. That was the last you had seen of him. Whenever Klaus tried to bring it up, you changed the subject, and since he knew you weren't going to tell him anything, he kept a closer eye on you.

But when you came to him this year with a smile on your face to tell him he was coming to apologize, he went livid. You were sat in your living room, and Klaus was pacing around in front of you, announcing that you weren't to see him. "Klaus, I'm sure he regrets it, you must have terrified him last time, I know I would have been if I saw you run at me with that look on your face." You chuckled, trying to act like you didn't care when in truth you were terrified. "Are you defending him?" Klaus stopped pacing and glared at you. "No! God no! I'm just saying he probably meant it when he said he was sorry. He just wants to say it in person is all." You reasoned. Klaus sighed, exasperated. He knew you weren't going to listen to him. "Fine, but as long as I'm here when he visits, you're not letting him in. What time does he get here?" he asked. You looked at the time. 11:57. "2:00pm." You said. "Okay, I'm gonna go grab a shower, I'll be back." He said with a slight smile. And then he was gone. Reassured by the fact that he would be here when your uncle came, you let out a small sigh. You had lots of work to do, so you got started. About an hour later, there was a knock at your door. Assuming it was Klaus, you let him in. "Come in," you called. Your eyes widened as you saw it wasn't Klaus. Trying to hide your shock, you spoke. "You're early. By an hour." "Yeah, I figured it couldn't wait, I owe you an apology," he muttered, locking the door without you realizing it, then walking over to the sofa. "Come sit, please." He smiled. Sitting down opposite him, you smiled. You were so happy it was unbelievable. But when his kind smile turned to a sinister grin, you knew your happiness was short-lived. Jumping up, you ran for the door. Stretching your arm out for the handle, you felt big arms grab you roughly around the waist. Too late. You tried helplessly to fight him off, but he was so much bigger and stronger than you. You tried to scream but he clamped his giant hand over your mouth before any sound came out. Walking backward, he finally came to the sofa and sat down, still holding you, so you were on his lap when he did so. You shivered as you felt his erection press into your ass. His hand still tight over your mouth, his free hand wandered under your shirt and onto your breasts. You cringed at his touch and he smirked, proud of himself for getting the best of you. Then his hands made there way down to your pants. You felt him fiddle with the buttons for a moment, then his hands made there way into your panties. You sat there helpless, tears sliding silently down your cheeks. "Hey, (y/n), sorry I took so long," Klaus said, twisting the door knob to find it locked, just like last year. Picturing you, laying there helpless, anger took hold of him, kicking open the door once again, he saw you sat there, on the sicko's lap with one hand over your mouth and the other down your pants. Your eyes widened at the sight of your saviour once again. He was holding to steaming cups of tea, he kept hold of the mugs. You knew what he was thinking and moved as much as you could to the left, it wasn't much, but Klaus had amazing accuracy as an original vampire. Seconds later, the piping hot liquid was flying through the air towards your Uncle. Hitting him in the face, he screamed in agony and threw you to the floor. "What the fuck did you do? You bastard!" he screamed, standing up. Klaus flinched as he heard him shout. Mark launched himself at Klaus, fists swinging. Klaus calmly dodged before grabbing his arm and twisting it before the taller mans back.  He then kicked him behind the knees, and as he fell backwards onto the floor, Levi jumped on top of him making sure to keep his arms pinned under his knees. He started raining blow after blow onto the blonde mans head. Blood spurted from his nose and mouth but Levi wouldn't stop. He kept going until he was unconscious and still showed no signs of stopping. "Klaus." You mumbled from where you were sat on the floor. The sound of your voice instantly knocking him out of his furious trance. He got

off of Mark and ran towards you, embracing you in a tight, safe hug. "I'm so sorry." He whispered over and over again into your hair as your shoulders began to shake. He held you there for God knows how long before you finally spoke. "It's been happening since I was 7." You mumbled. "That was 11 years ago." He said, eyes wide. He slowly pushed you away so he could see your face. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" "I owe him. My parents died when I was 3 and he had been looking after me until I joined the military when I turned 15. He took in me and my little sister and said that when if I did things with him, he would keep my sister safe. My sister's dead but he said I still owed him for looking after me for all those years." You sighed, looking down. "You've been dealing with him for 15 years? How can you always be so happy while hiding something like that? You should have told me! I would have killed him a long time ago." Klaus scowled, glancing over to your uncle, who still lay unconscious Getting up, he offered you his hand. "C'mon." "Where are we going?" you asked, a confused look on your face. "To Elijah's. He needs to know what happened. And he also needs to know that that bastard needs to be put out of his misery if he's not dead that is." he said in a low voice. "Wait! I cant Elijah" you yelled after being dragged out of your office. "Cant tell me what?" Elijah asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to corner to face you. "If you don't, I will," Klaus said, looking from you to his brother. Moments later, you were sat in a comfy chair in the kitchen. He looked at you with a curious gaze, then looked at Klaus, who seemed to be itching with anger. He raised his eyebrows as noticed how angry he looked. "So, anyone feel like telling me what's going on?" He said, leaning forwards and putting an elbow in his desk. Klaus stopped pacing and looked at you. You looked away. "(y/n)'s--" he began. "Stop." You interrupted. "I'll tell him." Elijah's gaze shifted from Klaus to you. You tried to muster every ounce of courage you had. "To put it simply, my uncle Mark has been raping and beating me for 11 years." You mumbled, trying extremely hard not to burst into tears again. Klaus's face darkened again at the thought of that man with his filthy hands all over you, you unable to do anything. "When did you find out?" Elijah asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Last year. I caught the bastard with his trousers down." He muttered darkly. "And why didn't either of you say anything?" "(y/n) didn't want anyone to know." he sighed. "I thought it would change how everyone saw me." "When she was seven." Klaus spat, clearly disgusted. Elijah understood his feelings. He had always been fond of you, and he enjoyed the fact that the two of you were close. In some ways, he had seen you as a daughter. And to here all of this hurt him more than he cared to admit. They both looked at you, and you looked down again. "What does he look like?" "About 6ft, short blonde hair, brown eyes, broken nose, missing teeth," Klaus answered. "Ah. Where is he?" "In y/n's room. He was unconscious when we left to come here." You piped up. "Lets go then," Elijah said, getting up and heading for the door. About an hour later, Mark finally woke up to see you and the vampires sat on the sofa. "Ah, finally awake are we?" Elijah asked, walking towards him. "Let me introduce myself." He said. "My name is Elijah Mikaleson. I would say nice to meet you, but its hardly that. Let me get straight to the point." He said, hauling Mark to his feet. "This girl is like a daughter to me," He smiled and pulled you into his side. "If you ever hurt her again, I will cut you into little slices, starting off with your toes and making my way up until I get to your head, and then personally feed you to the werewolves. Got it? and if for some stupid reason you decide to come back here, either me or Klaus over there will kill you. Though I heard he nearly did last year." With that, he punched him square in the stomach, winding him. Then landing a kick straight into his balls.

Collapsing in agony, Elijah bent down and pulled him up by his collar. "Remember what I just told you when you get another stupid idea like your last one." He smiled innocently before slamming him back down on the floor, making sure he was unconscious. Ruffling your hair, he smiled. "Remember, if anything like this happens again, or anything for that matter, you can talk to me. Although I'm sure you would go to him first." He smirked, nodding to Klaus. "I really did mean it when I said you're like a daughter to me, by the way. Anyway, I'll leave you two alone." He smiled again, before hauling your uncle over your shoulder and marching towards the door. "Goodnight." "Goodnight, dad." You smiled for the first time that day. He chuckled softly and left. You turned to face Klaus, who had already made his way over to you. He wrapped his arms around you and brought you in close. "Thanks, Klaus." You smiled gratefully into his shoulder. "You really are my hero."