#i really want to do more with the split au but my brain is dry

[ink-n-shadow]

listen—my brain had a thought, and I had to bring it to life🤷‍♀️ i kinda wanna make this into a text!au... (or maybe just it's own au)

SWIPE RIGHT

𝜗𝜚 the one where you swipe right a man almost 10 years older than you

𝜗𝜚 pairing: hookup!simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: very bare bones smut (minors—DNI), age gap (reader is in early/mid 20s; simon is in mid 30s), gentle and casual sex, possessiveness (if you squint), some aftercare, some feelings caught, slightly nervous!simon

you would meet hookup!simon on a random wednesday night, mindlessly thumbing through dating apps while draining a bottle of wine by yourself. it wasn't your fault that you were bored, pent up, and fresh out of a long-term (and rather toxic) relationship. you didn't even remember how you ended up setting your age range to 30s.

hookup!simon would have like three pictures maximum—one of his rugged face, one of his toned muscles in the gym mirror, and the last one of him and his german shepard puppy. he wouldn't even have a bio, just his name, age, and that he was looking for something short-term.

hookup!simon would be surprised when you match back with him, eyes bulging out of his skull as the notification blinked across his screen. he fully expected to never see your pretty little face ever again—but there you were, sitting innocently in his messages and begging him to tell you his dog's name.

the first time you meet hookup!simon in person, he's all shaky hands and sweaty palms—despite the fact that you're sprawled out naked across his mattress not long after he led you up to his apartment—muttering a breathless “i don’t do this often” under his breath as his calloused fingers crawl down your thighs.

hookup!simon would be so juxtaposedly gentle, soft caresses and breathless kisses smeared against your skin as he gently sinks his leaking cock into your prepped hole. his harsh and rough exterior doesn’t match the way he treats you like porcelain, careful not to break you in two as he split you open on his length.

you didn’t expect the way hookup!simon treated you after—turning on the shower and letting it get warm enough for you to slink into, putting your sticky underwear and pants into the laundry while you showered, making sure a cold glass of water was on the bedside table before you lumber back into the bedroom.

hookup!simon would offer to drive you home once you were out of the shower and your clothes were dry, insisting that you didn’t have to stay if you didn’t want to (but he really wouldn’t mind if you did). his eyes nearly pop out of his skull when you say you wouldn’t mind spending the night.

spending the night leads to you and hookup!simon talking for hours, your body sandwiched between his and his german shepard puppy (“his name’s riley—i know, s'not very original”) as you both ramble on about your incredibly different lives.

hookup!simon only takes you home after fucking you into his king-sized mattress one more time, intentionally (and rather possessively) littering your chest with hickeys and imprints of his crooked teeth in hopes of driving away your other hookups.

hookup!simon almost forgets about you and the night you both shared as two weeks (and another deployment) pass. it isn’t until he comes back to his flat and gets a random tinder notification, seeing your name illuminating his phone, that he becomes enamored all over again.

bonus: hookup!simon has a thing for being the best fuck you’ve ever had—the ego boost he gets from hearing you talk about how well he fucked you and how much you missed it >>>

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[sirazaroff]

Any headcanons or AU style things with Weiss

Hey friend~

Weiss is one of my fav lil goobers, but I realize I haven’t really sat down and thought much about her character. My brain just turns off when I see her it's just 'mm yes is Weiss :)'

Anyways, I gave it a go. If there’s anything specific you’d like to know (shipping/character relationships/her take on canon events) just ask me further. Enjoy my ramblings:

The eyelid of Weiss’ scarred eye is damaged, permanently drooping

She’s the queen of puppy dog eyes

I like to think she takes after Willow a lot. There’s a lot of shared personality, characteristics, even looks between them. She’s a mama’s girl and Willow’s ‘favorite’

Weiss is forever cold, always liking to bundle up in some aspect. If anyone warm is around, you can usually find her snuggled up with them

I'll ship Weiss with a lot of the main gorlies. Big fan of polypiles

I feel like she wears red because of her grandfather, keeping his colors around as a reminder, but eventually she also associates the color with Ruby. Seeing her as a leader and partner to look up to and rely on

She is so easy to read. There is no hiding how she’s feeling

I like to think she hates wearing heels, but damn if she wont continue just to keep the slight height she can afford

She likes to pet Blake and Vel's ears sometimes. Soft, warm, it's chill. (This comes from the anthology manga)

The sexual tensions between her and Coco sets off geiger counters

She will steal other’s clothes, having at least one item from just about everyone she’s on good terms with

There’s a response Miles gave about how her kebob incident with Cinder played a large role in shaping her current personality, and I totally agree with it. Escaping death def changes a person

Expanding on that, I also think Weiss is now rather anxious/paranoid about Cinder the way she keeps being targeted by her. Sudden fire startles her and Weiss refuses to split off on her own if on missions or anything open like that

Weiss eventually surpasses Yang in humor but it's cause of her dry wit, never the puns

Post Atlas, her and Winter are on more equal terms. Her sister's been knocked down the pedestal some in her eyes, but she still holds respect for her all the same. She can just act more casual with her like she does with team rwby

Weiss knows a lot of 'cultured' skills because of her privileged upbringing such as chess, orchestral instruments, dancing, sports like tennis and badminton, even cooking, but the one thing she could never manage was baking and it haunts her cause all she wants to do is make a yummy batch of cookies for Ruby 🍪

Weiss prefers coffee as her hot drink of choice, but she makes attempts to drink Blake's favorite teas so they can bond over that

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Hiii

I remember when you were posting about your Kim/Wik Twins AU and I was so hooked! There’s so much potential for angst in this AU😩🤌 I always wondered if there was anything new going on with this WIP.

PS: I’ve been following your blog for a little while (I don’t interact bc im shyy) and I love all your Kimchay WIPS and little excerpts you’ve blessed us with (they make my day everytime I see one). So I want to personally thank your brain for all these wonderful ideas and just thank you for being you 😊

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Oh anon, you're a darling! This was so nice to wake up to <3 I actually haven't worked much on that AU since originally posting it, but you're right, there is so much angst potential in this AU between Wik and Kim. One of the inspirations from it actually came from World of Warcraft, and how the character Varian was split into two people, the other one being Lo'Gosh. I really loved how it wasn't just "this is the good side vs. the bad/feral side." Varian was polite and charming and good at socializing, but he was also vain and easy to manipulate (which was the point of splitting him), whereas Lo'Gosh was definitely a barbarian, but he was also all of Varian's strong will and ambition/motivation, and passion. I hadn't seen that kind of character splitting before, because it's usually an easy shorthand for doing a good/evil thing.

So for the purposes of this fic, Kim isn't just all the evil mafia while Wik is the sweetheart singer. Wik is very driven and tbh a little selfish, he's kind to his fans but ultimately very cold, because he grew up in a world where anything he cared about could be used against him. Both of them are still calculating in clever, but it's Wik that begins investigating Chay, intentionally using his stardom as an in, and purposefully manipulating him to get more information. He takes it to a stronger degree than we actually see from Kim in the show.

Whereas Kim is the quieter, more contained side. They both love music but Kim prefers guitar/piano over singing because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself the way Wik does, although he does write a lot of poetry/lyrics. One of the betrayals from Wik leaving is that he stole Kim's songs. The other is that he left Kim behind. He loves his brother more than anything, and Wik leaving him without so much as a goodbye was devastating for him.

Here's your slightly less than 500 words!

“You left me!” “Would you have even come with me?” Kim’s voice breaks on a desperate, “Yes!” He wants to take it back as soon as the word leaves his mouth, too honest in the heat of his moment, chest heaving with the weight of it. The only good thing about the admission is that his brother is too stunned to reply; Kim takes satisfaction in that, in the implication of it, as Wik realizes the depth of his own selfishness.  “Kim…” “I would…” Kim swallows. Days of captivity have left his throat dry. It hurts, speaking these words aloud, tearing them out of his chest to release them after all these years. “I would have. If you asked me to, I would have.”  He would have followed his brother anywhere. They were always meant to be together. Kim and Wik, two halves of the same whole, mirror images down to their names. Until Wik decided he couldn’t bear his own reflection anymore.  “Kim, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” “How could you? You only ever think about yourself.” Kim laughs. It’s wet. It hurts, like everything else about this damned conversation. Maybe Wik was right; they were better off alone. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, but you don’t know me at all.” Maybe Wik never did. What a horrible time to realize how truly alone he really is.  Wik doesn’t speak for a long time. Neither does Kim, keeping his head bowed and his breaths measured, cracked ribs aching with every rise and fall of his chest. What a cruel joke that the first time they’re sharing a space in years, something Kim has longed for since the day Wik left, and it’s only because someone else has forced them together.  “I don’t think you would ever leave the family,” Wik eventually says, his voice quieter than Kim has ever heard it. “You’re not like me, Kim, you never wanted to leave.” Of course he didn’t. Why would Kim ever want to leave his brothers? But at least if he had, Kinn and Tankhun would have had each other. They wouldn’t have been alone, not like Wik is now. Not like Kim is, forever missing his other half. Neither of them were meant to be alone. "It doesn't matter anymore." "Yes it does. Kim. I never meant to hurt you. I—" But there's no more time to talk because their captors are walking in, and Wik is throwing himself in front of Kim, both of them bound and unable to put of any kind of fight. Not that it would have mattered; Wik already got himself kidnapped. Too nosy to stay out of the family completely, but apparently the idealistic fool didn't bother to keep up with his martial arts. Still. Despite blaming him for the current predicament, Kim is a little bit touched that Wik is trying to protect him now. Too late to matter, maybe, but it's something.

[armandisdaddy]

We’re Just Friends Chp.3-Modern Au! Rhaenyra x Dornish Male Reader

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Dornish Fem!Male Reader (House of Blackmont) Cragen Stark x Fem!Male Reader

Content/Warning: !!🔞PLUS!! Angst, Denial, Some Sexual Content, Tension,p in a penetration ,breeding kink, unprotected sex, Smut, oral both males receiving, toxic love, LOTS of Jealousy, and a bit of a love square. (No not a triangle lmfao) guy on guy action this chapter.

Author’s Notes:The reader and Rhaenyra are going to be quite back and forth but trust that the reader isn’t necessarily waiting for her. They know where things stand with her or at least that’s what they tell themselves so in this series you will see them dating or fucking other people. *shrugs*

Chapter Three

Last night was a bit of a blur. Not to mention this hangover was tearing you up. You had a brain splitting headache and you couldn’t even sit up without feeling like you wanted to hurl. Waking up you heard giggling in the living room and you knew exactly who it was…Lydia and Rhaenyra…how could she..? After what happened last night you thought..she’d realize the two of you were meant for each other…but old habits die hard you guessed. You sighed and dragged yourself into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. Nyra gave you a knowing look and Lydia sneered at you. You rolled your eyes at the both of them and went back into your room. Plopping back into the bed you just wished you could disappear and be any where else away from here.

Your phone pinged and you saw it was your Nyra

Bestie

“Look last night was a mistake…I’m sorry. It won’t happen again and I know you hate me especially after what Lydia said to you but I promise she’s gonna be better.”

You don’t even bother to respond you left her on read and let out a loud “Wowwwww!!!!” Laughing obnoxiously did she really think that was going to make you forgive her after she used you and made you feel stupid again? Just when you were about to throw your phone somewhere you got another message

Unknown number

“Hey it’s Cragen…from the club last night. Sorry I didn’t get to text you I had gotten into the find that ended everyone’s night.”

You

“Oh so you and some other jackass ruined the party..lol I’m just kidding, hey.”

Cragen

“My apologies I had a bit too much to drink…so do you have anything planned for today? I wanted to actually hang out somewhere..maybe get to know you better.”

You

“No I was actually going to sleep off this headache but I’m down. Where we meeting up at?”

Cragen

“I know this great spot that has brunch. I’ll send you the location.”

You

Okay bet I’ll meet you there.

Without another thought you hopped into the shower with the biggest smile on your face. You were excited to make a new friend…maybe more even though this thing with Rhaenyra had your brain and heart at a war with each other. It wasn’t fair and you decided that there was to be no more slip up and now it was time to find out who you were without here. After you finished your shower you did some light eye make up and let your hair dry in its natural wavy state. Now it was time to find something to wear. Looking around in your closet you found a cute baby blue crop top and a denim miniskirt with white platform boots. “Cute.” You said to yourself looking at yourself one more time before grabbing your bag and keys to head out.

Walking past Rhaenyra opened her mouth but decided not to speak you stopped noticing looking back at her almost daring her to say something. Lydia still oblivious as fuck she smiled you and you sneered. “Save that fake shit for someone who gives a fuck…you don’t like me and I don’t like you. But, I promise you have nothing to worry about. Your girlfriend and I are no longer friends apparently a disrespectful cunt is more important than me.” You gave a halfhearted smile and rolled your eyes leaving the both of them speechless and looking at each other for answers. If this was how you were to be treated you were going to make the rest of this semester extremely hard for the both of them.

You hopped into your car and pulled off. You saw the place Cragen was talking about and already knew where you were going. You and Rhaenyra use to go here all the time. It took no time for you to get there and to your surprise he was already standing there waiting for you. After parking and getting out you smiled shyly and he opened his arms for a hug which you gave him without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you and fuck was he strong the way he squeezed you…felt perfect like you belonged there while you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hey. You look amazing as usual.” His voice deep as he inhaled your scent. You blushed and smiled “You look good too.” Once the two of you pulled away he led you to a booth and you already knew what you wanted. The waitress greeting you and giving him a menu already having brought you a mimosa knowingly.“You come here a lot, yeah?” He looked at you while he still needed to look through the menu. You smiled thinking about the many memories here with Nyra. “Yeah, this Nyra and I’s…well it was our favorite spot.” Your voice was once bubbly and excited became low with sadness. “Did…something happen between you two?”

You sighed softly. “Yeah let’s just say her girlfriend doesn’t like me and I don’t really like her either she’s always been rude to me only tolerating me when Rhaenyra was around and well a few days ago she just went off on me. Saying I was too close…and Rhaenyra defended me broke up with her…but somehow they are back together.” Cragen winced and sighed softly grabbing onto you hand from across the table. “I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N. You don’t deserve that, but if you need a new friend to pass the time with you’ve got me.” You smiled feeling the warmth of his hand, while you looked into his eyes. “I’d like that…” The two of you smiled at each other and the brunch continued with moments of silence and then an uproar of conversation. He was actually very funny and had a personality he wasn’t your basic college jock and you were grateful to have crossed paths with him.

After a while of mimosas and food you both were stuffed and feeling a bit of a buzz. You both didn’t want to leave each other’s presence so soon so you asked him to follow you home. “Want to hang at my place with me. We can watch movies?” He gave that handsome smile and agreed. “Sure, sounds like a good time.” You giggled and once he paid the tab y’all were getting into your cars so that he could follow. Now that you were back at your shared apartment. You and Cragen came inside to still see Rhaenyra and Lydia still there cuddling seeming as though they were in the middle of something. Cragen waved awkwardly, Rhaenyra spoke but she was so obviously pissed, Lydia was none the wiser and you stayed quiet walking past them into your room. “What are whore wasn’t he just with your brother?” Rhaenyra shot a look at her “What fucking business is it of yours? Come on we’re going to your place tonight.” Lydia shrunk from her attitude and was confused they were only just laughing moments ago what was her problem. “o..okay..” she whispered grabbing her things while Rhaenyra packed a quick bag before leaving.

Now the two of you were alone in the house and you went into the bathroom to change into some shorts versus the skirt. Cragen was sitting rigidly on the edge of your bed when you came back in and you smiled. “You can get comfortable, Craggy. Let’s find something to watch.” You turned on your tv and laid down pulling him up with you by the arm. “Can I lay on you?” He looked down at you and chuckled. “Sure go for it.” You laid your head on his chest and laid your thigh high sock covered leg over his waist. His rough hands grabbed underneath your knee and the other your lower back pulling you in closer. You blushed and turned twilight on and he laughed. “I love this movie but it sucks.” He laughed. “I know right terrible but a guilty pleasure of mine.” You smiled at him as things began to die down and you watched the movie.

His fingers mindlessly trailed over your exposed skin causing goosebumps to form on your skin. You sighed softly and cooed every now and then which he took notice of rather quickly. “Craggy, you ever been with a guy before?” He looked away from the screen and down at you again. “I have…” You nodded and he sat up a bit. “I know I said I was your friend…and I am truly…but I’m attracted to you, Y/N. Ever since we met last night you’ve been on my mind and I don’t want to overstep my boundaries…but being this close to you…has me hard as fuck.” Your cheeks ran red and could see the lust in his eyes. You couldn’t deny that you were attracted to him too and even felt safe with him. “You’re not overstepping…I want you too..” that’s all he needed to hear before his lips crashed into your plush ones. His hand squeezing your thigh before easing up to squeeze your round ass cheek. Your lips worked together and your tongues found each others rather quickly he groaned into the kiss and you whimpered softly as he pulled you on top of him both hands full of your ass squeezing and kneading it like dough. “Fuck, it’s so soft.” He growled biting into your neck while he thrusted up into you pressing his hard cock against you. He was gentle but rough at the same time. Something you’d never experienced before from anyone. You were all too eager to get his pants off and he didn’t stop you as you fumbled with his jeans pulling them off once you figured out the button.

You saw his cock freed from his boxers and you were shocked at how big he was…scared even. He saw the look on your face and chuckled pulling you back in. “I’m sure you can take it, baby…don’t worry I won’t ruin you yet.” You shuddered in his hold and your own erection began to press into your shorts. He took no time to rip a hole into those thin shorts that hugged every part of you just right. Your cock fell from them and he smiled grabbing on to it causing you to hiss as he squeezed your already pulsating length while his pressed against your ass cheek. He decided to flip you around now his cock was in your face and yours in his. He was too focused on your ass though. Kneading and smacking it watching it bounce with each smack. Your whimpers and moans were driving him crazy and so you grabbed onto his cock striking it slowly before licking the tip and popping it into your mouth. He exhaled softly and trembled feeling your warm and wet mouth sucking him so well. “That’s a good boy…” you trembled at those words and he spread your ass apart lapping at the entrance. You tasted so good he groaned into you biting each cheek before go back to eating and sucking on your tight hole. “oh gods…” you whimpered softly before his hand pushed your head back down. Your eyes rolled back as you continued to suck him sloppily getting him nice and wet and he began fucking your face mercilessly. “So…fucking good…” he moaned helplessly. You were taking in by his voice, his smell, his taste and the way he held you in his hands.

“You got any lube?” He asked and you nodded getting up to get it for him. He stood up and placed you against the wall he was so much more taller than you as he hovered next to you spreading your apart letting some lube drip onto your asshole and he smiled letting one of his thick fingers rub the substance into it before plunging it inside you. You gasped and moaned lowly the arch in your back deepening. “That’s it…” he praised you slowly pumping his finger into you while his face was close to your ear. “When I’m finished with you just know this is mine now.” You nodded quickly your sweet moans filling the room and soon they grew louder once he added another finger. You were so warm and tight he couldn’t wait to bury his cock into you. Your knees buckled together and he pulled his fingers from you drenching his cock in lube lining his cock up to your entrance. Holding your cheeks apart and prodding at your hole until it gave slowly pushing his cockhead in first. You hissed feeling your hole being stretched wider than normal but he was still so gentle and slow. He hummed at how tight you squeezed him and he wasn’t even already in yet.

“That’s a good baby…take it.” Fuck why did he have to talk like that. After he sat still for a while he began to thrust slowly until he was completely inside you. Picking up the pace he wrapped his arm around your throat and pulled your back against his chest pounding into you incessantly. You were losing your train of thought he was fucking into you so roughly hitting your sweet spot with every thrust of his hips and you could no longer hold yourself together. “Y/N you feel so good. You gonna let me breed this slutty hole of yours?” Your eyes rolled. “Yes….please daddy…cum in my slutty hole.” He groaned and continued to slam his cock into you his pelvis smacking into your ass echoed off the walls and he wrapped a hand around to grab onto your length. “We’re cumming together…” he spoke quickly and breathlessly as he stroked and pumped your cock as if you weren’t already overstimulated enough. “Oh my…fuckkkk…Cragen I’m gonna cum…” he chuckled so devilishly hearing those words. “Come on my sweet boy make a mess for Daddy.” Your eyes rolled and you lost it exploding all over your bedroom wall and soon his thrusts slowed down and he was filling you with his seed. Afterwards he carried you to bed and spooned with you. But that didn’t last long before he was fucking into you from the side. Let’s just say the two of you were rather busy for the rest of the night…

to be continued…

[sakuraspages]

sasusaku snippet #9

[Mermaid!Sakura AU - #4]

Sasuke can't tell exactly what he is feeling. It's like his whole body is actively fighting for him not to pass out and yet he can’t take his eyes off the woman with a massive fish tail in his bathtub.

Is this what going insane is like? One just starts having hallucinations, seeing things and hearing them talk? He didn't think he was actually this close to completely losing it. And since the war, he has been having a hard time dealing with injuries, and the mere sight of the blood on her fin makes him nauseated.

“Are you ok?” she asks, and it's like he's hearing her from far away. Her voice. It does things to his brain that are not normal.

He doesn’t manage to speak.

“Can you help me stitch it up?”

His brain struggles to understand what she's asking. “What?”

“My fin. It needs stitches. Please.”

He shakes his head quickly. “What… No, I'm not a doctor…”

She seems to panic. “If it heals like this I'll struggle to swim forever!”

He needs to go to sleep and maybe when he wakes up this will all be a bad dream. “I can’t do that.”

“You can.”

“You don’t understand, I… I’m bad with… injuries.”

“I know you can do it.”

Her voice makes him want to believe her. It fills his brain and makes every cell of his body want to trust her. “No, it'll hurt you,” he says.

“The fin is so thin, I'll barely feel it. It’s only temporary discomfort so that I can swim normally again.”

“Can you do it yourself if I bring you supplies?”

“I would, but my tail is sprained. I can’t move it to reach it.”

“We really need to call the doctor.”

“Please don't!”

Her voice is desperate and it pierces his chest. Her eyes water and they glimmer like the sunset over the ocean. A tear, milky and iridescent like a pearl, rolls down her cheek. Suddenly, he would literally do anything for her to stop crying.

He fumbles in his basement for his old military trunk. He finds a field first aid kit that has what he needs. Still, his stomach twists at the idea of stitching her skin. He tries to breathe to calm himself down.

“I don't want to hurt you,” he says reluctantly when he is back in the bathroom.

“Please…”

"Tell me if it hurts."

"It'll be fine," she says like an encouragement.

With impossible care, he brings together the torn sides of the fin, and gets to work. He glances at her but she seems fine. Only when he reaches a ray of the fin, she whines softly.

“I'm sorry,” he says.

“Keep going.”

He tries to be fast but he can see that she's more and more uncomfortable. "It's done," he finally says when the whole length is stitched. "It's not–"

"It's perfect." Her face is sheer relief and exhaustion. She gives him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“Are you ok?”

She nods. “I just need to rest until it heals.”

“Do you need to stay in the water?”

She shakes her head. “I can come out. I just need to soak for a few hours when I feel dry. To be honest... I’m a little squished in there.”

He nods and drains the bath water. He tries not to stare when her tail retracts and splits into two long and white legs. He's still unsure it's real. He covers her with a large towel.

Sakura is very relieved that her wound is fixed. Not being able to swim properly would have made her an easy prey in the ocean.

And she barely felt the pain of the stitches as she was watching him do it, so focused on her, so careful not to hurt her, slightly frowning and yet so handsome as he took care of her. He lifts her out of the bathtub and sits her down on the floor again.

He hands her a strange device that he connects to the wall. He gestures for her to press the button and it makes a deafening noise as it blows burning heat in her face. She quickly throws it away from herself. He laughs lightly as he picks it up.

“You will get cold if you keep your hair wet.” He angles the device toward the back of her hair and gently runs his fingers through her long pink strands. She understands. She lets him dry her hair. His touch is slow and soft and the air around her is warm. It’s very pleasant.

When she’s dry, he hands her a piece of clothing and helps her put it on. It's a black t-shirt similar to the one he is wearing, except on her it's baggy and covers her down to the middle of her thighs. It smells like him.

He lifts her up and carries her again and she basks in the warmth of his skin against hers. She can feel the beat of his heart. There is something comforting about him. She could fall asleep in his arms.

He brings her to another room, away from the couch. “You'll be better on the bed,” he says as he gently puts her down. “You can sleep if you want to. I'll go find something to eat. What do you like?”

She blinks. “... Crab?”

He seems relieved. “I can find that. See you in a bit.”

“Wait– Your name?”

“... Sasuke.”

She nods. “I’ll wait for you, Sasuke.”

[head---ache]

i've been thinking for 5 seconds about split sonic au and thats what i came up with:

1. Determined is actually the one with the most anger. He is probably the main source of Dark Sonic, he appeared when he couldn't prevent his friends getting hurt.

2. Energetic cannot sleep. His brain is suffering from not sleeping, but his body still has energy to race. He basically lives in a world where everything around him is much slower than him.

3. Competitive hates losing, so when he actually does, there comes self-hatred. He would endlessly train to be better, to be enough. He hates being seen as 'weak'.

4. Chill is repressing his own feelings to stay calm. He is the face of the hero. He will listen to the bad stuff that happened and reassure others with a warm smile.

5. Kind wants everyone to be happy, even when the cost is his own happiness. He doesn't want to be seen as dramatic so he wouldn't say if someone hurt him. He is Sonic's love, and love hurts.

ok thanks for reading, can we get split sonics being not okay, please?

You're pretty spot on nskxjskxjsix I don't have much to add lol

That wasn't my original intention with them but I guess the Sonics just naturally turned a bit more complex the more I (we?) explored with them nskxbksxjskx

About that last part tho!!! I am aware that a lot of people want to see angst with this au, and I am also aware that that is not what I've been posting lately nzkxjsixjs I did make a post a little while ago answering a question about the au, and i did say that there were some dark topics that i didn't really want to touch with the split sonic au, but mental health isn't one of them!! I mean, that's kind of what the whole au is based on lol

I've just been a little dry of ideas lately so I've been using dumb humor instead, but if anyone has any ideas about the au, then do please share them!! I am super interested in your thoughts and I am totally up to talk about them!!!!

[blooming-violets]

SMITTEN || TASM SERIAL KILLER/STALKER AU

APRIL IS FOR AU’S EVENT | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE |  PART FOUR | PART FIVE | EPILOGUE

WARNINGS: (All the warnings from Part One apply to this entire series. Read them HERE) 

Chapter Two Warnings: non con/reluctance, detailed smut, sleeping/unconscious touching, use of drugs to subdue a woman, mention of a needle, nude photographing without consent, talks and mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of blood, general creepy and awfulness 

Chapter Two

Her eyes shot open to stare at a concrete ceiling. 

Her thoughts felt sluggish like she was trying to find her way through a thick fog. Her skull felt as if it was being split in half and the headache plaguing her brain made her feel nauseous. It was difficult to think straight through the pain. She brought a hand up to her eyes and gently rubbed them with a soft moan. Slowly, took in more of her surroundings. 

This was a place she had never been before. It looked like an older woman’s bedroom but something was off. Perhaps it was the void of any windows that gave her an uneasy feeling. Carefully, she struggled into a sitting position. A wave of nausea washed over her at the motion but she did her best to breathe through it. A young man was sitting in the corner of the room in a soft pink arm chair. He was asleep and breathing quietly. A lock of dark hair brushed against his forehead into a loose curl. He looked familiar. It took a second to remember. 

Peter. Her neighbor. 

“Hello?” Her voice came out scratchy and dry. For the first time since waking up, she realized how thirsty she was. A glass of water sat at her bedside table. She lunged for it and gulped it down. As she drank, she heard the man stir. 

“You’re awake.” His voice was soft and calming. 

She finished the glass and stared back at him, “Where am I? What happened?” 

Peter frowned and sat up a little straighter, “You don’t remember?” 

She shook her head, immediately wincing and regretting moving her head like that, and opted for a shrug instead, “No. Was I in an accident? This doesn’t look like a hospital.”

The man kept a respectful distance, never moving from his spot on his chair, but kept his worried eyes locked onto her face. “You really don’t remember?” He pointed to her forehead and she reached out to touch a wad of gauze secured to her head. “You were screaming at my door in the middle of the night. You were covered in blood and crying. The second I opened the door,  you practically forced your way instead. You kept saying that he was going to kill you. There was blood everywhere. You told me that Jake was going to finally murder you and you needed some place to hide. You begged me not to call the cops. You said they would just send you back to him. You were sobbing and bleeding so much. You made me promise not to bring you to the hospital. Then you collapsed in my arms. I wasn’t sure what to do. I carried you into my spare bedroom, cleaned you up the best I could, and have been waiting for you to wake up. If you hadn’t woken up by midday, I was going to call an ambulance anyway.” 

His words rang no memory for her. She couldn’t remember any of that, “No…no that’s not right. Jake wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t hurt me.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. 

Peter licked his lips and gave her a sympathetic look, “You said he was angry because you hit him. Something about not wanting have sex with him. You said he called you an ungrateful bitch and a filthy whore. You told me he had finally snapped. That he finally had enough. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more but that was all you gave me last night. I’ve been worried sick waiting for you to wake up. I was hoping you would be able to fill in the rest. You begged me so hard to not call anyone. I was afraid what might happen to you if I did.” 

A glimmer of memory flashed behind her eyes now. She remembered hearing those words as Jake spat them out at her. She remembered how he tried to fuck her ass in the car. He refused to use lube or warm her up. He liked to hear her scream at the pain. He liked to watch her in pain. She remembered how she had enough. She had slapped him and ran out of the car. He dragged her back in, told her she would pay for that back at home, and sped far too fast the whole way home. She remembered how scared she had been to go back inside their house. Once those doors closed, who knew what would happen to her. That’s where her memory got foggy. Was it really that far of a stretch to think Jake was capable of something like that? 

She tenderly touched the bandage on her head and looked down at the blood splattered over her shirt. Peter’s story was starting to sound more realistic by the second. Her breath caught in her throat. What was she going to do? She always knew Jake would finally snap some day. The past few months had been building up to it. He was getting worse with his aggression. But she had nowhere to go. Jake had made sure of that. She had no family to speak of. Her friend’s had long since been isolated from her life. The only company she kept was Jake and his buddies. They were all cops. Jake’s father was head of the police. Whenever they were called to a domestic dispute before, they had always sided with him, brushed it under the rug. That’s why they had moved from their old neighborhood. The neighbors could hear the fighting every night. They kept calling the police. It only made Jake worse. She had no money to her name. She didn’t work. Everything she needed relied on Jake and his funds. He had threatened her with murder so many times in the past. He used to taunt her that he knew how to hide a body. That he knew how to get away with it. That no one would ever miss her.

And he was right. 

No one would ever miss her. All Jake had to do was say she’d left him and moved away. No one would ever be the wiser. She was entirely alone with nowhere else to go. 

Her bottom lip quivered and tears blurred her vision, “He’s going to kill me! I have nowhere to go. You can’t call the police.” She begged Peter. “Please, please. You have to understand. If they know where I am, they will tell Jake. He’ll find me. He’ll kill me. Oh god…what am I going to do?” Sobs racked through her chest and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I have no one! I’m trapped.” 

Peter finally stood up from his chair. He quietly crossed the room towards her and sat down on the bed beside her. He gently rested an arm around her shoulders, waiting to see if she’d shrug him off her not. When she crumpled into him instead, he wrapped her up in a hug. 

“Shh,” he shushed her. “It’s going to be okay. I’m not going to let him hurt you. You’re safe here. He doesn’t know that you’re here. No one does. Just you and me. You’re not trapped and you’re not alone. You have me. I can help you. We’ll find some place for you to stay.”

She cried quietly into his chest while he ran his hands down her back in a soothing motion, “Would you let me stay here? Please. I promise I won’t take up much room. I can be a good house guest. I’ll cook and clean for you if you want. I’ll stay out of your way. Please. I can’t go out there. Not yet. He’ll find me. I know he will.” This might be the only chance that she had. She had no other options. If Jake had finally snapped then this was what she would have to do to survive. 

Peter was her only hope.

With her head tucked into the safety of his chest, she couldn’t see the dark smile that flashed across his lips before it was quickly hidden by a look of concern, “Of course you can. I’ll let you stay as long as you need.”

That had gone easier than he expected. It seemed her head injury was a good enough excuse to make up for her lack of memory. His story was convincing enough from everything he had witnessed between them. It didn’t take much to fill in the blanks. Clearly an abusive, unstable relationship. It wasn’t rocket science to fabricate the rest. He played his part well. Pretended to be asleep while she woke up, stayed his distance while he acted worried and concerned for her, and finally inched his way closer until she was willingly crying in his arms. 

Just like that, he had planted the seed. He crafted his words carefully enough that she took the bait. He made her think it was her own idea to stay there locked away in the basement. After all, this room would be the safest place for her. There were no windows for evil boyfriend’s to spy through. She was out of sight. Hidden away in safety. And he had made her think it was all her idea. 

Peter hummed a happy tune to himself while he pulled his truck back into his driveway. A takeaway bag from her favorite local Mexican restaurant was placed in his passenger seat. After a little prodding, he had convinced her that it would be okay to go retrieve dinner. She was starving and in need of food. He let her pick where he went. Nothing screamed trust more than bringing one their favorite meal. While he was out, he leant her some of his clothes and urged her to take a shower during his absence. She would feel better once the filth of the past night was cleansed from her body. 

As he was getting out of his vehicle, he heard someone shout at the end of his driveway. Peter tucked the bag of food under his arms and turned to face a disheveled looking Jake. His hung limply on his forehead having lost the usual bounce to it, his eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and he looked as if he had been crying for the past few hours. 

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but can I ask you something?” He stayed hovering at the end of the driveway. 

Peter gave a nonchalant shrug, “Sure. What can I do for you, Jake?” He no longer felt the pressing rage when he looked at him. Now Peter was the one in charge. He had exactly what he wanted. Any previous feelings of resentment towards Jake disappeared. She was no longer his. She belonged to Peter.

“It’s just…I haven’t seen Mia since last night. You didn’t happen to see her, have you? She left her phone in the house. I don’t know why she would leave without it.” His voice wavered as he spoke like he was trying to hold back tears. “I really need to get her back.” 

It took everything in him to refrain from giving the other man a smug smile. He kept his face neutral. “Oh, yeah. I saw her early this morning when I was bringing my barrels out. She was getting into a cab. She had a bag with her. I asked if she was going on a trip. She mentioned something about going away for a while. She didn’t really say much. It looked like she had a nasty cut on her head. Is she alright?” 

Jake gave a sharp inhale, “Getting into a cab?” He ran a hand over his face. “Thanks, man. I gotta go. Sorry for bothering you.” 

Peter watched in triumph as he scurried back to his house. A sinister smile spread over his face and he continued his joyful humming as he turned back into his house. His darling was waiting for him. She was hungry. He didn’t want to keep her waiting. 

“This was delicious. Thank you, Peter.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned back on the bed. 

“If you’re going to stay down here, I think I better set up a table and some chairs for us to have some place to eat. I don’t think it’s safe for you to go upstairs yet. Too many windows.” Peter mimicked her actions and also wiped his face before leaning back in the arm chair. He was doing a good job of keeping his distance from her. It took everything he had him to not jump on her. He wanted her so badly but he knew this wasn’t the way he was supposed to do it. He kept his cool the best he could. “I saw Jake outside.” 

She froze. Her body tensed. “You did?” Her breath caught in her throat. “Did he say anything to you?”

Peter put on a face of worry, “Yeah…he wasn’t happy. I didn’t want to tell you until after you ate. I didn’t want to ruin your meal. He was asking about you. Well, screaming is more like it. Looked like he was in a drunken rage. He kept muttering something about how sorry you were going to be when he finally gets his hands on you. He asked if I’d seen you.”

Her eyes filled with fear, “What did you say?”

He gave her a soothing smile, “I told him I hadn’t seen you. Obviously. You really think I give you away that easily? I told you. You’re safe here.”

She let out a sigh of relief and settled back against the headboard, “You know, my mother used to cook me chicken tortilla soup whenever I had a bad day. She took the recipe with her to the grave. I tried to replicate it but never could get it right. I tried so many different Mexican restaurants to find one that tasted even remotely similar to hers. This one was the first place I found that was close enough.” She nodded to the logo on the take away bag and gave a sad laugh. “The first time I tried it, I cried because it made me think of my mother.” She swallowed and closed her eyes with a sigh. “Jake hated Mexican food though. He never let us order it. I could only get it when he was off on his camping trips.” She shook her head, her eyes opening to show tears glistening in them. “What am I going to do? I’m trapped! I have nothing.” 

Peter’s jaw tightened, “You’re not trapped!” It came out harsher than he intended and he quickly put a smile onto his face to cover up his annoyance. He was sick of her talking about Jake. “What I meant to say is, you’re safe here. I told you. You can stay as long as you need. I’ll keep an eye on Jake. I’ll watch him and let you know when things have calmed down. Then we can work together to find a solution to your problem. You don’t have nothing. You have me.” 

She gave him a grateful smile which was followed by a loud yawn. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, “Oh, gosh. Sorry. I suddenly feel very tired.” She scooted her way down the bed, her eyes starting to droop. Her body rested over the covers, an arm draped over her eyes, and her lips parted with quiet breaths. “I don’t know why I feel so drowsy. I’m so sorry. It…it must…be the…stress…” She muttered as her eyes slipped close. 

Yes, the stress. Not the crushed up sleeping pills Peter had slipped into in her soup. Having her in his house was becoming too much. She was too close and he still wasn’t allowed to touch her. It was obvious she wasn’t ready for him in her conscious state. Not yet. That would take time and planning. It would be something they would enjoy together. But, much like his obsessive urges to kill, Peter needed to be satisfied and he needed her body to do it. He was sure she wouldn’t mind. If the roles were reversed, he would gladly give up his body for her to pleasure herself with. This should be no different. She’d be asleep. She’d be none the wiser. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. 

She had rolled onto her side, making quiet noises as she snuggled her face into the pillow. Peter stood up and crossed the room to her. He called out her name and gave her shoulder a shake. She responded with a muffled moan but didn’t move otherwise.

He leaned over her sleeping form and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be right back. You wait here, my sleeping princess.” 

He jogged out of the room and dashed up the basement stairs two at a time. Barging into his bedroom, he grabbed his polaroid camera, double checking to make sure there was still film inside then ran back down to her. His heart was leaping out his chest with excitement. It was finally time. He would finally get to explore her. Those agonizing nights forcing himself to dream about what it might feel like had all led up to this moment. This was it. 

Peter carefully crawled into bed behind her. She didn’t stir once which gave him the confidence he needed to wrap his arm around her waist and bury his face into the back of her head. Her curls brushed across his cheek and tickled his skin. They held the lingering smell of Aunt May’s favorite shampoo. When he had created the room for May, he had made sure to fill it with her favorite products as well. It must have been what she used when she showered earlier. The smell brought May’s memories to the forefront of his brain. She was the only woman he had ever loved beside the one he currently had cradled in his arms. Her death happened too soon. Peter hadn’t been prepared for it. She had cared for him his whole life. Even when he was a troubled child, she never blamed him for the way he acted. She protected him from the world. She kept him safe. Loved. The night she died was the night he made his first kill. Without her in the world, there was nothing left to hold him back. Smelling her again brought back a wave of new emotions he thought he had long forgotten how to feel. Tears burned in his eyes. He closed them and inhaled deeply, filling his body with the scent of his sweet Aunt May. 

As he let his senses wash over him, his hand slid up inside of her shirt. It was an old band shirt of his he had given her to change into after her shower. The tips of his fingers grazed along her stomach. He could feel goosebumps spring up along her skin in wake of his soft touch. He imagined what she would look like fully naked and splayed out of the bed. A goddess. She would be his new protector from the evils of the world just like his Aunt May had been. She would love him and care for him. In return, he would give her anything she wanted. He would promise to please her until the day he died. She would be his and he would be hers. Forever. 

Peter allowed his hand to travel further up until he placed it directly over her bare breast and gasped. She must have opted not to put her bra back on after her shower. They were small enough that his hand easily dwarfed them in his grasp. He felt her nipple raise against the center of his palm as a welcome to the new touch. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the feeling. Her mind might be asleep but her body was waking up for him. Slowly, he began a gentle kneading of the flesh, taking his time so as not to disturb her too much. He figured she'd stay sleeping with the drugs but he still wanted to keep her comfortable. He brushed her curls out of the way so he could press his needy lips to the side of her neck. He inhaled her own scent mixing with that of May’s, trailing his tongue over the flesh, and nibbling at her smooth skin. 

He pinched her hardened nipple between her index and middle finger, brushing fast strokes over the tip. A heavy sigh exhaled through her lips. Her sleeping body turned into his touch and a smile grew over Peter’s face. 

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Perfect.” 

He kept at his careful manipulation of her breast, simply allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of finally having her flesh in his hands. Every so soften, a quiet moan would peep out of her and Peter would feel a rush of pride. Even in her sleep she craved him. It shouldn’t take long for her to realize who her real love was. She would be melting into his arms soon enough without the use of drugs. Once he was able to prove to her how much he adored her, she wouldn’t be able to resist. 

He wondered if his manipulations on her chest had any other effects on her body. From the way she was breathing, it made him think he might be doing more than fulfilling himself. Peter was still learning her body. Overtime, he would learn exactly what made her scream in pleasure. If her nipples were this sensitive during sleep, he couldn’t wait to devour them when she was conscious. Imagine the noises she would make...

His hands slid down her stomach and under the waistband of her leggings. His first venture into her depths. He was desperate to see if he was successful in her pleasures. Heat was radiating from her core. Peter had to grip onto her thigh to pull her legs further apart for better access. The second he had available room, his hand slipped through and cupped over her wet core. He was rewarded with the slick feeling of her fluid pooling between her legs. 

“This wet already?” He murmured in her ear. “Such a good girl. Not even awake and you already want me.” 

His heart fluttered as he collected as much of her slick onto his finger as he could. He carefully pulled his hand out from under her waistband and held his glistening digit up to the light, admiring how it reflected off the wetness. It reminded him of how much he enjoyed the feeling of warm blood covering his skin. He brought his finger down to his face and held it under his nose, sniffing the precious nectar. His eyes rolled into the back of his head once more as he was filled with her scent. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he breathed. “You smell so good.” 

He placed his finger inside of his mouth and slowly licked her from his hand. If it were possible, she tasted even better than she smelled. How had he been missing out on this little taste of heaven for this long? She had been living next door this entire time and he had been so blind. He needed more. 

Peter untangled himself from around her and rolled over her instead. He slowly peeled the tight leggings, along with her underwear, down her thighs and off her legs. He was so desperate for more of her. Gently, he gripped her ankles, bending her legs towards her then slowly pushing them to the side as if he was revealing a cherished present. 

“Wow,” his words were no more than a fleeting whisper. He had never seen anything so precious in his life. 

He settled onto his stomach between her legs. His fingers parted the entrance to her glistening vagina. His neck arched forward until his mouth was hovering over her entrance. Tenderly, his tongue extended out to take his first taste directly from this beauty. He licked the length of her once then delved deeper into her hole. He moaned as he lapped her juices into his craving mouth. He latched onto her, working her with his tongue, tasting her, loving her, enjoying what she had to offer him. His entire body shivered with excitement. Never in his life had he experienced pleasure as divine as this. In her sleep, she’d let out occasional quiet moans and whimpers. Her hips would twitch or she’d move her head to the side. Small, tiny movements to let him know somewhere deep inside her mind she was enjoying this as much as he was. He ate her out until his jaw began to ache. It was only then he unlatched himself from between her thighs. 

Peter scooted up to rest on his knees between her legs. He fished his dick from his pants, reaching down to coat his hand in a mixture between her slick and his lingering saliva coating her pussy, and wiped it over the length of him. It created enough lubrication for him to start jerking himself in his hand while she slept. As much as he would love to push himself into her, he restrained. He wanted their first time to be together. He rolled off the bed and stood beside her. He’d have to get himself off while staring at her instead. 

He eased her shirt up enough so he could feast his eyes on her breasts. They were covered in goosebumps. He’d have to remember to turn the heat up down here. The basement was always so cold. Despite the chill in the air, Peter was sweating. He reached with shaky hands to caress over her shoulder, skin so soft and smooth, and down her arms. Greedy hands slid over her breasts to stoke at her small, but beautiful, tits. Callused thumbs ran across her hard nipples. He used his other hand to frantically jerk at his aching cock. He wanted to be inside of her so badly. He was going to have to try harder if he ever wanted to get to that point. His hand slid down her vulnerable body, curving over her hips, cupping her heated core and slipping a finger inside. 

“Fuck, baby. Look what you do to me,” he muttered. “So perfect. My sweet girl. You feel so good.”  

Inspiration struck Peter like a lightning bolt as his eyes landed on her hand. He pulled his out from inside her and brought up to her delicate wrist. He placed her hand over his throbbing cock and used his long fingers to wrap her first around him. With her help, he used her body to help jack himself off. 

“Oh god, yes. That’s it,” he hissed. “My good girl. Being so sweet to me. Helping me find my release. Thank you, pretty girl.  Thank you.”

It only took a few minutes of molesting her unconscious body before Peter felt himself about to explode. His grip around her hand tightened and he used her to push himself closer. With a low grunt, he positioned himself above her and came over her exposed tits, painting her breasts with his love. 

Peter took a moment to pant and catch his breath. He licked his lips, admiring his work, and gave her a lazy smile. 

“I knew you would look angelic covered in my cum. You’re nothing less than perfect.” He grabbed for his camera and aimed it at her violated body. The flash went off and the undeveloped picture spewed out the other end. Peter grabbed it and gently placed it on the bedside table. 

The drugs should last through the night. She should sleep peacefully and wake in the morning completely unaware of his mischievous nightly endeavors. 

“Let me clean you up. I’ll get you tucked away under the covers and tomorrow we’ll start the real fun.” 

She awoke with the familiar sensation of the pounding headache. It took a moment to remember where she was. Her heart filled with a heavy sadness as she looked around at her new home. How long would she have to hide away here? She missed the comforts of being surrounded by her own belongings. How had her life come to this? 

She struggled to push away the wave of tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. She was alone in the room this morning. Peter wasn’t in his usual spot in the chair. She took that as a sign to get out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. After relieving herself and brushing her teeth with the spare toothbrush Peter had provided for her, she carefully peeled back the gauze over her cut. It was no longer bleeding but it was deep and oozed some kind of clear liquid. The bandages needed to be changed. Unfortunately, she was used to tending to her own wounds. Jake had done a number on her over the years.

She searched the cabinets in the bathroom for any kind of bandages or medical supplies but came up empty handed. Maybe Peter kept them upstairs. If she stayed out of view from the windows, it shouldn’t be too bad. She fluffed out her hair and headed back into the bedroom. The skirt and blouse she was wearing the day she arrived here was folded up nicely on the armchair Peter usually sat in. There was no longer any blood on her shirt. He must have washed them for her. She discarded the old clothes he had let her borrow and changed back into her usual attire. She already felt a little more like herself as she peeked open the bedroom door and took a look around. 

It looked more like a normal basement on this side of the room apart from, what looked to be, a lab table. There were beakers and a bunsen burner, things she remembered from high school science class, but everything else was foreign to her. It occurred to her that she had no idea what her neighbor did for work. From the looks of things, he was probably a scientist of some sort. 

She passed by a washer and dryer and silently headed up the creaky, wooden stairs. It was the first time she got a good look at Peter’s house. It wasn’t anything fancy. The appliances and furnishings were outdated. They were all mismatched and looked like they were picked up at yard sales or off the side of the roads. It didn’t seem like he had a lot of money to his name. 

“Hello?” She called out. “Peter? Are you up here?” 

When he didn’t respond, she took it as a sign that he wasn’t home. Carefully, she avoided the windows the best she could, and made her way to the upstairs bathroom. It was much bigger than the one she had. There was a bathtub with a shower attached and a his and her sink set next to the toilet. She pulled open the cabinet under the sinks and was happy to find a first aid kit. She made quick work to pull it out and fix up her head with a new bandage after cleaning it out. She packed everything back where it belonged and tucked it back into place under the sink. 

Her stomach growled. Peter probably wouldn’t mind if she grabbed herself some food. As she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, her eyes traveled into his bedroom. The door was wide open. She knew she shouldn’t snoop. It was awfully rude of her. She was a guest in his house. Still, something drew her deeper into his bedroom. 

It held the same outdated, old, beat up furniture as the rest of his house. She realized that the tiny room she was staying in was actually furnished the nicest. It had a theme and color pallet. Nice, subtle décor. None of the furnishings looked or felt like they had been previously used. Whoever the room was meant for was held in high standards in Peter’s eyes. 

On his bedside table she noticed a book. Her heart surged with glee when she realized it was the same one she was currently reading at her house. She felt a shared fondness for her new friend. They had more in common than she was originally led to believe. Maybe he would let her borrow it some time if she asked nicely. 

Something pulled her towards his bedside table. Never in her life had she snooped like this but she couldn’t stop. One little look couldn’t hurt. There was probably nothing but a few condoms or junk thrown in the drawer anyway. Typical man things. Her hand reached out for the drawer and she pulled it open. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped in surprise. 

Breathlessly, she reached inside and pulled out a handful of pictures. Some were polaroids, some were ones that had been developed, but all of them were of her. She recognized herself immediately. Her heart raced as she flicked through the pictures. They were crude and of her intimate moments she shared with Jake. It was the night she had hit him. The night Jake threatened to kill her. The night she ended up here. Her blood ran with ice when she landed on the last picture. A polaroid. Her naked, unconscious body splayed out on the bed downstairs. Semen caked over her breasts. Her stomach churned. Her eyes flicked back into the drawer. Sitting under the pictures was a pair of her black underwear. The fabric was hardened and she could only guess as to why. She could feel the panic rising. Under her panties were more polaroids. She pushed the underwear aside and took a quick glance. Her panic spilled over. She only had to see one picture to know she was in trouble. The sight of a bloodied male body with cold, dead eyes staring back at her was all it took. The haunting image would stay burned in her brain forever. She didn’t want to see the rest. 

This wasn’t a safe place. Peter wasn’t safe. She had to get out of here. 

The photos fell from her hand as she turned and ran out of the room. She was unfamiliar with the layout of his house. She stumbled into the kitchen and felt a flood of relief when she caught sight of the back door. Her hand fumbled for the knob when a heavy hand snaked over her mouth and clamped down. She let out a muffled scream and kicked out her legs. Strong arms wrapped around her and easily picked her off the ground. She thrashed and kicked and scratched but nothing she did made any difference. She felt weak and useless. Fear bubbled up inside of her and hot tears spilled from her eyes. The hand clamped around her mouth refused to let her scream. She knew it was Peter despite not seeing his face. He dragged her back down the basement stairs. Sobs shook through her and her body went limp in defeat. She was pulled back into her bedroom. What she had once thought as mildly charming now suddenly felt like a prison. Peter kicked the door closed and pressed his back against it. He held her close. 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” He whispered to her. The sound of his voice made her skin crawl. How could she have been so stupid? So trusting? Had Jake even tried to kill her that night? Was it all a lie? How did she even get here? Her memory told her that some of the story was true. She remembered the start of that night. She remembered how scared she was. Jake was so angry. She didn’t trust Peter but she certainly didn’t trust her safety with Jake either. Did she just happen to run from one creep to another? No matter which way she turned, she was still trapped. She shrunk into herself as Peter nuzzled his face against the back of her head. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. You want to be here, remember? You chose to be here. I’m taking care of you. No one is going to hurt you. I promise. You don’t have to be scared.” 

He carried her to the bed and laid her down. The second his hand was released from her mouth, she let out a loud scream, “Help me! Help! Someone help me! Hel-” His hand was forced over her mouth again, cutting her off, and his legs straddled her hips to pin her down to the mattress. 

He let out a long sigh, “I’m so sorry, sweetie. This is for your own good. You need to sleep now.” He pulled something out of his pocket. Her vision was partially covered by the hand over the bottom half of her face but she got a quick glimpse of a needle. She tried to squirm away but he was too strong. Tears leaked down her cheeks and she let out a quiet, fearful whimper as it entered her skin. 

Her body relaxed and her eyes slipped closed. 

Peter waited until she stopped moving before climbing off of her. He let out a loud, angry scream and kicked out at the wooden dresser. This wasn’t supposed to be how this went. She wasn’t supposed to see that. He should have locked the basement door. He thought her sleeping pills would have lasted longer. He was too careless. Too trusting. Of all the drawers to look through, she found that one. Rage seethed through his body. This was not how this was supposed to happen. 

“Why?” He screamed at her unconscious body. “Why would you do this?! Why would you leave me? How could you betray me like that? After everything I’ve done for you!” 

No, no, no, no, no. She couldn’t leave him. He was doing so well. She was starting to trust him. In a few days, he could have slowly progressed further with her willing consent. He had no doubt that he could have made her love him if he had the time. Now it was all ruined. All of that effort was thrown out the window. She wouldn’t trust him again. No. No. He’d have to make her love him. He was just going to have to push back harder.

Peter paced violently around the room, tugging at her hair, and finding it difficult to control his ragged breathing. The anger flowing through his veins turned his thoughts towards Jake. Oh, how he would love to sink a knife into his gut at this very moment. He’d love to feel that cockroach’s blood spill over his hand and drip down his arm as he twisted the knife in his stomach.  

Peter shook his head to try and clear his racing thoughts. He couldn’t do that. Not yet. Right now, Jake was the only thing keeping her here with him. She might be afraid of Peter now but she was still more scared of Jake. He had a long history of control over her. Returning her to the abuse of her boyfriend hanging as a constant threat over her head would be Peter’s saving grace. He could use that. All hope wasn’t lost. Peter could still make her love him. This wasn’t the end. He’d have to change his tactics. 

He had work to do. He would make this right. 

She would be his once more. 

She was pulled from her sleep and jerked awake with a panicked force. Her eyes darted around her chambers to find the source of her disturbance. Peter was standing in the shadows in the corner of her room. Only a single light was on. The one sitting on her bedside table. It cast elongated shadows over every surface. Her heart started to race as he approached her. Even in her groggy state, she remembered what had happened. The fear overtook her the closer he got. She made a dash to the door, knowing full well she would never make it all the way out, but hoping for a miracle anyway. 

She had only taken two steps when she was dragged back up against his solid chest. His heavy hand sliding over her mouth to stifle her scream. She trashed against his body but her small frame was nothing in comparison to his. He shushed her with a hiss. His freed large, calloused hand splayed over the gentle swell of her stomach, drawing her up even firmer against his warm body. She struggled wildly, nails scraping the smooth skin of his forearm, as she fought to free herself from his iron grip. 

“Please, calm down,” he muttered in a husky, low voice. It was different from his usual tone she had gotten used to. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you. I’m trying to protect you. It’s not safe out there. You know that. Listen to me, please. I had to put locks on your door. I’m so sorry. It’s for your own good. I can’t let him get you. He’d take you from me. He’d hurt you again.” 

She whimpered against his palm. He twisted her around in his grasp and forced her back against the cold, concrete wall. Her small hands pushed against his chest in an attempt to free herself but he grabbed her hands, lacing his fingers through hers, and hugging them behind his back. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. 

Through her tear hazed eyes, she looked up at him. She knew she was looking into the eyes of a potential killer but she was shocked that she didn’t find a murderous psychopath staring back at her. Instead, his eyes were soft. They were wide and gazed down at her with a concerned love. It was not the look she was expecting to see. Her body relaxed, her muscles unclenching, and her shoulders sagging in defeat. He didn’t look like someone who was about to murder her. 

A warm smile grew on his face, “See? I’m not so bad. I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. I know what you saw. I know it was probably really scary and I’m so sorry.” He released one of her hands to brush his fingers over her tear stained cheek. She flinched at the touch but stayed quiet. “I didn’t want you to see that. That wasn’t meant for your eyes, love. My sweet, beautiful darling. I’m so sorry you had to see that. I’ll have to punish myself later for scaring you. You’re safe now. Don’t worry. I’ll take such good care of you. Just like I promised. Nothing has changed.” 

This was not a sane man. She had to be smart. If he meant what he said he did, then he didn’t intend to murder her. At least not yet. She’d have to play along if she wanted to survive. If she could stay alive long enough, maybe he would eventually let down his guard, and she could make her escape. Keep him happy. That would be her goal. 

She watched as Peter licked his lips as he looked down at her. A lustful look flickered behind his eyes. Her stomach hurt thinking about what she assumed would come next. She had seen the picture of her. He had already violated her body once before. In a way, she was used to this. Jake would take what he wanted, when he wanted. He never cared about her comfort before. If Peter was anything like him, she knew what was coming. She expected pain and to be roughly used. She knew how to fade her mind away into her happy place until it was all over. What difference does it make if it’s Jake or Peter? All men were the same. That was clear to her now. 

His tall, lean body pinned her against the wall. Her soft breasts were crushed against his chest. She stilled as her eyes locked with his honey brown ones only to begin struggling anew as she felt his thigh pressing between hers. Her eyes widened in shock as she felt the pressure pushing against her crotch. The only other man she had slept with was Jake. They had been together since she was 16. Over six years of her life were spent with that man. While she knew he had cheated on her and slept around with other women, she had stayed truthful to him. He was all she knew. She was torn between keeping up the fight and giving in, used to submitting before a man, and being used for his pleasure. 

Peter’s lips covered hers firmly. He was taking what he wanted from her just like her boyfriend had. This was familiar to her. It made sense. His fingers tangled in her thick, curly hair and tilted her chin up for better access. His lips were warm and soft despite their needy nature. She willingly allowed his tongue to slip into the moist depths of her mouth without a fight. The way his hand caressed her face was unlike anything she was used to. They were tender and kind. Soft and gentle. It wasn’t what she was expecting. Her body and mind were at war with each other. 

She whimpered against his mouth as he deepened the kiss, knowing she should fight him, that she should resist, but swiftly losing herself the heady sensations flooding her. Her lashes fluttered close as he seduced her with his drugging kiss. She found her muscles starting to relax and herself leaning into him. 

Up until this morning, he had been so kind to her. He never once presented himself as someone who wanted to harm her. Then why would he have those photos in his drawer? She thought about the look in his eyes when she first woke up in this room. They were filled with such care. She remembered thinking how handsome he was when he stopped by to deliver her fresh baked cookies. She was enchanted by his presence. No one ever went out of their way for her like that. That night as she lay alone in her room, her vibrator in hand, she had masturbated to the thought of him running over to her rescue. She imagined him saving her from Jake and pulling her into the safety of his arms. It was no wonder she ran to his house when she was frightened. If that was even true…she didn’t know anymore. Everything was so confusing. 

She melted against Peter as his mouth coaxed hers into a soft submission. His thigh pressed between her legs was something for her to rest on. Every time he moved a fraction of an inch, a jolt of electricity would shoot through her body. Her lower half was needy with a throbbing ache and she subtly grinded her hips against his thigh.

She paid little attention to the feeling of his hands bunching up the fabric of her skirt at her thighs. The chilly air of the room wafted between her legs as she drowned in his kiss. She was breathless and needy, lost in the sensual heat that he was weaving around them. 

It was only when she felt the heated trail of his fingers brush over her bottom, dragging the skirt up above her hips, did the sense of reality begin to intrude her hazy thoughts. She didn’t really know this man. Peter was a stranger. He was keeping her captive. This shouldn’t be happening. 

“No,” she whimpered as she tore her mouth from his. 

Peter ignored her protests, his hands gripping her hips as her skirt draped over his arms. He gently shushed her, “I can’t. I’ve tried, I’m sorry. I tried to play this differently but this is how it has to go. Trust me. I know what you need. This will help. I promise. I need to feel you. Undress you. Touch you. Fill my hands with your delicate breasts and let my tongue taste deep inside of your depths. I’ll treat you to feelings you didn’t even know were possible, sweet girl. I can show you colors that don’t exist and give you more than you could ever dream. Let me take care of you.”

Her stomach fluttered and her legs trembled at his words. No one had ever promised her such things before. Heat rose in her face and she licked her drying lips. The wetness pooling between her thighs soaked into her cotton underwear and rubbed uncomfortably over her sensitive skin. Why was she so turned on by this? Not once in their relationship had Jake ever spoken such longing words for her. He was always the villain in her story. A terrible, terrible man she was trapped with. Now here she was with a stranger promising her the world. She knew she shouldn’t give in so easily but she was weak. A weak, little girl. Forever trapped. Never free. 

She shivered as he gently released her hips to cup her breasts in his hands. He molded them over her thin blouse and his lips parted, his eyes glazing over, as he let out a shaky breath at the feeling. He was memorized by her body like her mere presence had cast a spell over him. Her knees practically gave way at the exquisite delicateness of his touch as he teased her nipples into hard tips under his gentle caress. This was nothing like she had anticipated him to be. 

She was unable to gaze away from his deep eyes. They seemed to look into her soul and searched for a hidden part of her that she kept locked up. Who was Peter? Who was this man?

“Why are you doing this?” She asked breathlessly, feeling a shameful excitement overtake her as his fingers rolled and plucked at the hard buds beneath her shirt. 

Peter leaned down to leave a trail of kisses along her jaw, “Because I love you.” 

How could he love her? He didn’t know her. She wasn’t even sure he knew her name. He never called her by it. How had she ended up here? How would she ever escape? Where could she even go?

“What do you want from me?” Tears burned in her eyes. She was still torn between the reality of the situation and the betrayal of her body. She was ashamed to admit that she wanted him to touch her. He was beautiful. His face was perfectly sculpted, his body lean and inviting, and his eyes...his eyes drew her in. She wanted to stare at them forever. She wanted to learn all his secrets. She wants him to have all of her. 

No. No. She couldn’t. This wasn’t right. This was wrong. She was his captive. His play thing.

“I want to be inside of you,” Peter murmured, brushing his lips across hers as he pinched her nipple hard between his fingers. She gasped at the sensation and pushed her hips against his thigh once more, aching for something more. She was unable to control the thick wetness flowing out of her as continued to play with her tender breasts. They had always been so sensitive and needy. “I want to come into your slick heat, feeling it clench around me, as I push deep inside of you. I want to bury myself into your aching pussy. I want to feel you grab tightly onto me as I bring you to the brink of ecstasy. I know you want it just as much as me, doll. I can feel it. Look at you. So hungry for my touch. Look at how your body responds to me.”

A moan rumbled out her throat when his hand slipped down over her belly, under her skirt, and cupped her mound. She knew he could feel the heat. He could feel her damp underwear. It was wrong. So wrong. His fingers pushed the fabric barrier to the side and parted her lush lips to delve into the velvety fold. So wrong. Yet, so right. 

“No,” she tried to speak, her words unconvincing as he gently stroked her. “No. You can’t do this.” Her lashes fluttered close as a fire raged between her thighs. Her hips parted for him to gain better access and she arched them against his hand. Seeking, demanding, his touch. 

“Your body can’t lie, doll. You can pretend all you want but I know the truth. You want me. I’ll take good care of you. Be a good girl and I’ll treat you so right.” His knee eased her quivering thighs further apart as his mouth pressed light kisses over her cheeks and closed eyes. 

She shuddered against his chest that held her pinned to the wall, feeling her body drown in the sensations like she had never felt before. Not even Jake had got her this excited during their time together. Peter’s finger worked its way inside of her and she groaned. 

“No. Please,” she cried softly. Her words did not match with her actions as her hips rolled into his hand. His finger probed deep into her, massaging the walls of her thick pussy as his thumb teased her clit. 

He smiled at her reaction. It was a soft, loving smile. His eyes were filled with nothing but kindness. It was all so confusing. 

“Open yourself to me, doll.” He whispered, coaxing a second finger to ease inside of her. “Let me in. It’s okay.”

She shook her head, “No, no...I can’t...this isn’t right. Please, Peter. Please.”

His entire body shuddered as his name fell from her lips. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and a smile grew on his mouth. “Say it again,” he urged, ignoring her please. “Say my name again and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.” 

She swallowed and took a deep breath, “Peter. Peter...Please, Peter.”

He let out a low moan, suddenly slipping his hands out from inside of her and grinding his hips into hers. She could feel his stiff rod pressing against her. His head nuzzled into the crook of her neck and his breath was ragged, “Again. Say it again.”

Her voice sounded so small but she felt the need to please him, “Peter.”

He began to thrust his clothed hips into her, rubbing himself over her skirt, desperate for any relief. She found herself repeating his name. Whispering it into his ear. Her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to her. Over and over again she whispered the name “Peter” while he used their clothed bodies, frantically grinding against her, to finally achieve an orgasm. His entire body shook violently as he came into his pants. A loud yelp ripped from deep inside of his throat. His body collapsed on top of her. His chest rising and falling. She could feel his sweat seeping into her clothes and his musk filled her nose. 

He started to whimper. His back shook with quiet sobs. He was crying. Almost instinctively, she started to soothe him. Her fingers massaged soft circles into his scalp. She patted his back, whispering to him, soothing him. He suddenly seemed so weak compared to earlier. She found her heart breaking for him, needing to pick up his broken pieces. This was how she got sucked into a relationship with Jake. Her overly need to be a caregiver to broken, shattered men. 

“Shh,” she quieted his tears. “It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.” 

He lifted his tear stained face and kissed her softly, tenderly. A finger trailed down the curve of her cheek and his hand rested against his neck. She sighed in content at the warmth of the kiss. 

“I’m so sorry,” Peter spoke when he finally pulled away from her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this. I love you. You do something to me that no one ever has. You’re special. I can’t lose you. I need you. So badly. I need you, please. Don’t ever leave me.” His lip quivered and he brushed stray tears from his cheek. “I’ll leave you alone for today like I promised. I always keep my promises.”  He looked in her eyes as he said that. She knew what he was referring to. He had promised to keep her safe. He had promised not to hurt her. For whatever naive reason, she found herself believing him. “You’ve been so good to me since you’ve been here. I’ll make it right. I’ll make it up to you.”

He gave her one last, soft kiss then turned without another word, walking out of the door, and locking it behind him. 

Her body collapsed against the wall the second she was alone. Her legs were trembling under her. She cupped her hands between her legs and held them over her aching core. 

Why did she feel so empty without him there?

 [PART THREE] 

[Chapter Index]

Tag List: @ongreenergrasses  @captaindanvxrs @liz-allyn @coolchick333 @mrshipsmcgee  @holyheadharpies99 @aphrodites-perfume @spidervee @magnitude101999 @jayw916 @lilacvine @amazingspideyslut​

[muffindaddystyles]

Tell me you love me, before I go.

A/N: A very short smutty writing I had in my swirling whole night, which unapologetically I ended up writing in the wee hours of dark.

Summary: Harry and Y/N are rivals -- very passive aggressive enemies. When on a mission Y/N breaks into his room he had no choice but to punish her.

AU: Rivals to lovers, dark sci-fi, angry rough sex, spanking and spitting, reassurance kink and unrequited love.

A war between two groups. Left one with nothing but a tech base and other with almost everything. So the Arsonists raid the Phantoms' buildings to steal food items and necessary fuels for their people since they're mostly unarmed due to lack of weapons they try to use their brain as much as possible. 

Y/N works in one of the tech bases of Arsonists and right now she's standing with her five more mates trying to figure out how to break through these large gates of the villain's building, one of his most strong headquarters. 

They've to collect some data before another truck of fuel arrives for Phantoms next Wednesday so they could have access to it without doing much effort. 

Once sneaking in successfully because the two guards were too muddled in gossiping their arsess about their maiden. The building's nothing too extravagant, sleek and able to live, dimmed to an unpleasant light indicating everyone inside it is sleeping. 

She barges into the villain's room easily and almost had all the information in her hands from his drawers when the door to the room banged close, startling her at spot and the frames of her glasses fell on the carpeted floor. 

"Shit." 

"D'ya think cursing would take ye' out of here? if so you're down bad" Her heart sinks in when his cold insensate voice booms within the walls — a heavy boot comes crushing her glasses, again and again mercilessly. 

Her blood boils. Because, what the fuck. Doesn't he have any manners? 

"Do you think I need my glasses to punch the shit out of you, you prick!!" She pounced at him, almost breaking his nose into a splitted eiffel tower but he dodged it, twisting her wrists at her back and snatching the files from her sneering menacingly —- letting her painful grunts fly over his head without any remorse. 

"Well, well." She yelps when he tightens his grip angrily, "Look what cat dragged in come little mousey we're going to have some fun." She didn't know until now that someone could be this strong as he puts her in a chair like a rag doll binding her with no escape out. 

She tries to squirm and wriggle her butt out but he just tuts standing tall and evil in front of her, she rakes her gaze slowly up to his tanned biceps and clavicles popping from underneath his flimsy shirt, matted curls grazing his shoulders. 

"Oh no, trust me sweetheart, you're going to want to stay strapped in here. We're going to find out how many times an Arsonist can break –- and for the fact my people will kill you on the spot if you step out of my room." Shiver runs down her body from fear and he chuckles, flopping onto the edge of his bed, man spreading, leaning onto the heels of his palms behind him. 

"You're pathetic!" She spits out. Full of venom. 

"Pfft, a thief telling me that 'm pathetic." He shakes his head and she's despising his audacity as if he rules the world. She could kick him square in his sexy face but the thing's she's bound to this damn uncomfy chair. 

"Atleast, I don't go on killing people." She grumps and it's like she pushed a button when his irises turn pitch dark. Her eyes widen in astonishment, reeking with fear when he leaves his spot in a thunder striding towards her furiously and drags the chair closer to him, almost lifting it inches above floor. 

The next thing she knows that a gun is resting against her temple ready to be fired, "Ye' really that desperate fo' me to prove it to you, huh?" He growls, hooded gaze following the gun that's sliding down her cheek and the way her breath wavers —- lips trembles, nose twitches he knows he's fucked. 

"Will it hurt?" If she's going to die it better be an easy way. 

His eyes soften at that. Taking in the rosy features of her, the plushiness and squishiness of her skin that his fingers feels like dipping into cream. The women of Phantom aren't like this; they're built differently to fight and kill who wrongs them -- they're almost heartless at this point. 

"Dunno, You'll get to know after taking one." He shrugs like it's not a biggie tipping her chin with the gun's pointer and her eyelids slip shuts. She couldn't cry. Even her dead body wouldn't forgive her if she would cry infront of her worst enemy for the last time. 

"I hate you, Harry. I'd never ever forgive you for kidnapping my cat when we were small." There she said it. If she's gonna die soon she better let it off her chest. Before it could hit him right in the wound he builds a shield fast arguing back with a stoic chuckle. 

"Guilt tripping wouldn't help, darling." He tuts patting her cheek with the gun's barrel —- funny case it's empty of bullets. He just shooted all of them whilst doing target practice. 

"Fuck you." She yells. 

"It'd take much more action than just undressing me naked with your bare eyes." He squeaks dramatically. Stepping away and pouts when she huffs trying to kick her feet in his direction. 

"Not my fault that you're a perv." 

He pouts feigning fake disappointment putting a hand on his chest, "You're such a grudge holder." 

"Think about 10 ways to fuck me until then 'm heading to make amends for you -- see what they offer in return of their precious nerd." He smirks, it's sad such a gorgeous face could be such evil she thinks. 

// 

When he comes back she's fallen asleep from getting tired and exhausted being trapped in the same spot for hours, "Sorry, peaches but they don't want you back –- even told me to kill you if that what it ta —- oooh" He halts in his tracks closing the door behind him quietly not to wake her up and pads softly towards her, putting her dangling head back gently in a comfortable position and tucks a strand of her hair that's tickling her nose behind her ear. 

You're not supposed to act that way with your enemy, you FUCKER. 

His brain screams but his heart says otherwise. 

She has changed. She never cries anymore. Everytime they kidnapped her or she ended up being caught from his henchmen —- she'd always need company to make her feel less frightened from the hollowness of their buildings, would cry when they'd lock her up in dark rooms. 

It's awfully hurtful how once bestfriends turns into rivals just because of a conflict that ruined their and their families lives. 

She has been doing all of this for people who doesn't even care about her. They're using her and many others like her to build a nuclear power plant so they could become intimidating. 

He retires to sleep. Debating in his sleep whether he should just free her and tell her to sleep in one of the rooms of the buildings but soon the possibilities died when he was high in his slumber. 

// 

He groans, knuckling the sleepiness away from his eyes. He woke up from loud the thumping and found Y/N trying to break the door knob, he winces covering his ears when she screams watching him lunge towards her in rush. 

His chocolate curls bouncing atop his head. His emerald eyes speaking with morning's gold and lips ripe like cherry. His brows kinked in annoyance and expression pinched in rage. 

"You're confident." He rasps out in his morning husk and slams his hands on either side of her head trapping, cornering her between him and the wall.

"Did you really think it was going to be this easy." He nothing but purres, pushing her against the door. She gasps abruptly aware of their height differences moreso the radiation of power he daunts that she ignored her whole life. 

"Hmm." He hummed. Eyes black with intimidation burning her under the intensity of it, he keeps his focus on her, smirking. "It suits you. This trying to fight me, desperation is a beautiful look on you." 

"Fuck you." 

"I mean if, ask nicely." His smile is sweetly honey and lethal if you ask me. 

She glares at him with blazing daggers, "This isn't the way you make people love you." Her chest heaving with his heat close to her and his scent enveloping her. 

"Love?" He laughs fondly even, crinkled forming by his eyes and he breathes out when she hovers her dry lips over his's, "Sweet thing this isn't about love — if ye ask me far from that." He's lying. He's full of bullshit. 

"And yet you don't touch me or hurt me." She squints her eyes up at him wrecking her brain how to slip away from his hold, "If you beg so." He simpers awfully lewd for her. Sure as rock for what he said with his whole chest. 

"Come get me then!" She trips him aside and rushes for the door when he pushes her into it tightening his hand around her throat, it's aching him to tell her the truth but he wants to let her know her worth. He rests his forehead against her's muttering a rumble deep within his chest, "They don't want you Y/N." Her windpipes squeezes painfully. The statement punching her lungs. Tears springing in her eyes. 

"You're lying!!" She looks up at him shattered and desperate. 

He caresses his knuckles against her tear stained cheek, "Shh, shh baby I'll always want you even if they don't — " He jerks back when she blows hit at his brawny chest yelling at him. 

"It's because of you!! You, you, you." He sighs. Grabbing her wrists and pining them above her head, "Shut up, please." His chillness irks her more and she nips at him feastly. 

"Make me." So he does. When her eyes drift up at his determined ones it takes her breath away and she knew it was over for her. 

His lips catches her's in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Nothing gentle mind mushing about it rather pricking needles into her skin with the severeness of it. She feels the door rattling against her back when he shifts, pushing her against it with his hips, every thought of her exploding into white noise of want and lust. The dark curl of desire twisting in her stomach and pearling sweat on her neck. With the last thread of restraint in herself she tries to pull away. 

"No." He says bringing her lips back to his's. Cupping her cheeks to deepen the kiss and it's ardent as before not loosing it's spark, she slips her hands under his shirt — pulling him closer and the low groan at the back of his throat, a small pleading noise of want sets her skin on fire. 

"Fuck me."  She mewls. Trying to latch on his body like a kitten with it's dainty paws. 

He glides his clammy palms down her bum and grabs her thighs wrapping them around his waist. Not breaking the kiss but tasting ever dulcet corners of her mouth and creating heavenly noises. 

The next thing they know she's crawling back with the help of her bum to settle in the nest of pillows and he's fumbling with his belt buckle quite aggressively, she tugs the hem of his shirt down not satiated enough from having his lips on her and meanders her fingers in his hair to pull at them roughly in order to flush her chest up against his's.

"Never thought your sheets would have smelled other than sex." Because, genuinely. They smell that of fresh mint and roses. 

"So, you think of me doing dirty on this bed you're laying at the moment?" He asks mock and degradation evident in his tone, "D'ya get wet dreamin' 'bout me railin' ye' to death?" He grazes his teeth along her jaw and sucks at her earlobe counting in her silence. 

"Shut up." She gasps, probably from the abrupt press of his bulge against the inside of her thigh. 

"Make me then." He growls. Fisting the hem of her hoodie and pulls it over her head throwing it among his skinny jeans. Her head falls back and lips tremble from the effect of slap he landed at her outer thigh —-- she knows she can't shut him.

Though he knows that her single command and he'd be at his knees for her. 

When she clings to him for dear life and whimpers in his ear softly, his eyes widen in realization and he leans away to watch her expressions diffuse into manifold emotions. His nose scrunches up and he holds back his cooes for her. 

She's a subby. A cute one. 

Her eyes blink open to the sight of him out of his boxers and it waters her mouth —- her mind manipulating her to lunge forward and take his heavy member in her palm to give a good suck to his shiny crimson head. 

Down her throat. Nestle her nose against the trim patch of hair under his balls. 

"Like what y'see, doll?" He highers his chin quite smug about her staring and she hates him for that, "Pretty cocky for someone who likes staring at his enemy's tits." Her voice groggy. She wheezes a squeak through her nose when Harry pulls his shirt over his head revealing toned pecs and abs -- skin sewn with tats. 

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to stare at it for longer when that shirt comes wrapping around her eyes blocking her sight. 

He can never let her have nice things would he?

"Wanted to gag your mouth with it … but I'd rather love hearing you moan fo' daddy." He nips at her collarbones -- sucking it harshly to leave a prominent mark. His calloused hand rubs over her tummy smiling against her skin when she jolts and lets a little squeal slip. 

His cock drips precome at her tummy and her breath shudders into heavy pants when the tip of his cock dipped in her belly button nudging it. 

"Ha —- " He glides his sticky head down her happy trail and slips his large palm into her panties cupping her with his middle finger teasing her entrance, "Couldn't hear you!" He ducks down to put his ear near her lips and drums the pads of his digits against her cheek. 

She huffs and squirms for a second then moans breathily when he spanks the side of her hip leaving a sting, "Oh my god, daddy." His grin victorious and he lowers down to smudge his lips against her parted ones -- kissing her tongue and humming around it. 

She's somewhere it's hard to configure out, in between paradise and wonderland. 

"Tell me princess, what d'I do with you in your filthy dreams?" He grabs her jaw patching gentle pecks against her lips and he slops his finger into her throbbing pussy, "Fuckin' drippin' down ye' bum fo' me." She cries out trying to hook her thigh around him but he hisses slapping her cunt hardly -- turning her into a thrashing mess. She's trying hard to suppress the bitter-sweet sensation of her own body getting out of control and her glistening pussy lips flutter erratically creating sloppy noises. 

She squirts drenching the sheets underneath them and her panties. 

He slides his arm under her arching back pushing her up against his chest with a jerk, "Daddy's askin' you somethin'." He grits, propping his knee in between her thighs to rub it against her soaking centre. 

She gulps, licking her dry lips, "You–your rings … ah!" Her whimpers are muffled against his chest and he twists his thumb in tight circles to smear her wetness from her slit to clitoris, "What 'bout them, doll?" 

How does she tell him she liked what he did earlier. 

"Daddy, please … " She whines blindly searching for his face but he grips her wrists in his one hand and groans, "How's daddy gonna make you feel good when you don't tell him, pet?" He takes a kitten lick of her perky nipple. Teasing her areola with the tip of his cold tongue against her warm sweaty body —- he laps at it hungrily then creates a suckling noises, the noises, his slobbery tongue on her body, his fingers curled inside her pussy and the thick humidity is too overwhelming, she feels like fainting. 

She wants him, inside her needy pussy. 

She can't take the teasing anymore. 

"Spanking! I – I liked it when you did it, please." He kisses her nipple for the last time before smashing his mouth against her's in a fervent sinfulness and parts away with a smooching noise to sit back on his heels, "It wasn't that hard was it? Just a word and I could give you my whole world." The sincerity in his voice makes her want to hug him and kiss him for lifetime but for now he has other plans as he rips her panties away moaning obscenely gruff at the sight of her pussy weeping for him to pound his cock inside her, so ready and full of dripping honeyed wetness  for him. 

"Your safe word is clouds." He whispers in her ear. He knows her limits and her resistance but by any chance he'd cross it he'd never forgive himself, "What's it?" He asks and she says in wavering, "Clouds." 

"Atta girl." He pets her cheek. 

Her nail scratches the side of his hands that are pinning her down when he spits on her already damp cunt, a loud noise resonates along with her needy cries when his free hand adorned in jewels came spanking her pussy and her pelvis remains lifted in air bathing in the sting of metal and the throb rattling in her whole core. 

"This's what you wanted?" He kisses his teeth slapping her slick clit again and again, "To be roughed up by daddy, hmm." She bobs her head squirming and wriggling. Her words struck in her throat. 

"To be manhandled." He hums a growlish moan tasting his own fingers coated in her juices, "I'll show you what being manhandled really feels like." He promises her. She gasps a sweet yelp when he flips her over and throws her bum up.

His cock rubbing against her thigh and her heartbeat fastens, anticipating something, crimping the sheets in her fists and mewls into the mattress when he spanks her ass loving the way it jiggles stroking it afterwards to subside the burn down before landing another brutal one. 

She bolts her eyes shut throwing back her hips at him and he lays all the way over her back pushing her down on the bed, her cum trickling down the inside of her thigh, "Want daddy's cock?" He asks. Slicking the head of his prick up and down her asshole and slit. 

When she nods vigorously he bumps it in furious circles against her swollen bundle of nerves, "Then beg fo' it," He says intimidatingly and she doesn't waste a second before blabbering shamelessly. 

"Daddy … please I want your massive cock inside me, all of it." In her entire lifetime -- she never once uttered these kind of words. 

His heart mushes into a puddle seeing her a babbling mess and grabby hands for him, he kisses her gently speaking to her with foremost affectionate, "shh, shh moppet. You could have it anytime you want it, daddy's g'na fill you to rim with his cum and make you keep it there for hours with his prick still snug inside your little pussy, just made for him, c'mere...yeah just like that." He lays her back gently that her front is facing him now and wraps his hand around her calve raising it and pushing it against her chest firmly.

A series of pornographic moans and whimpers echoes in his bedroom when he seathes inside her slowly stretching her out in by inch leaving a burn behind her pulsating walls, their breath laboured breaths mingling, "Fuck you're so warm baby —-- hugging daddy's cock so good." He whines looking down where they're connected and knotted. His stomach twists and turns, his hips stiffens and he resists from pushing inside her when she's not ready but her milking him with her wetness isn't doing him any mercy too. 

She gropes his ass, nudging him to move and their teeths clanks, temples falls against eachother and lips whisper prayers of their unrequited love when he pulls all the way back to pound back inside her roughly. 

"You're daddy's good girl, making him feel so good. I want to keep you to myself. all of you and cherish you, make love to you, w'na mark you however I want." He groans eyes rolling back under his closed lids grinding his hips against her's in rhythmic pleasuring motions to give her clit stimulations and she cries out feeling another bursting orgasm bubbling in her tummy. 

"'M gonna cum, daddy!" She tugs at his roots and he drives more maniacly inside her, "Squirt around daddy's cock pet, so your pussy could swallow it deeper inside you." The headboard of bed hits against the wall vigorously and she digs her heels deeper into the dimples at his back moaning at the top of her lungs when she gushes all over his dick making more squelching, soapy, dirty noises of him raming inside her. 

She desires for more. 

She has become one little insatiable thing. 

His balls smacks against her bum and his thursts turn faster to chase his high, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and keeps his hand around his throat with the slight pressure of claimation. 

"Come fo' me again." He spanks her ass and she clamps shut down at him pushing him to the edge of ecstasy, "Squeezing me so tight -- gimme more, I know you can princess." Her legs tremble around his waist when she crampies around him and his cock's head strokes against her sweet spot doing wonders to just topple her off real quick. 

"Daddy!" She feels floaty and foggy head coming on his cock for the many times she has forgotten. Her mind blocking out even the weak shuddering whimpers and beaten moans of Harry as he reaches his orgasm unloading inside her -- his cum sticking thickly to her walls and some of it oozing outside of her pussy hole but he pumps it back with lazy strokes. 

He lifts his smushed face from the dip of her neck, his own curls sweaty against the nape of his neck and he smoothes his palms down her sides to calm her, his lips brushing featherly against the corner of her mouth as she keeps on blabbering something. 

When he tries to pull out gently she cries out pawing at his shoulders, "Daddy no!" He caresses her sweaty hair back and gets rid of her blindfold, pecking her nose sweetly. 

He wants to take care of her. He yearned to have her like this for years. He has to bring her back from her sub-space before it's too late. 

"It's no daddy anymore, petal. I'll crush you in this position — " Carefully he tries to retreat but stop when she says in a very dejected feeble voice, bottom lip wobbling and tears springing at the corners of her eyes, "You don't want me too?" OH NO. This's what Harry was afraid about. A breakdown. He saw the storm coming but didn't know it could be this worst right when she's in her sub-space. 

His face pales at that. His state in frenzy and panic. 

"No bubba. I want you my precious girl -- s'just you're gonna get tired like this, hmm. 'N I have so much to show you and make you meet new people -- couldn't have me baby walkin' on her wobbly legs for whole day could I?" He cups her cheeks tenderly and smiles down at her warmly smothering her in devoted kisses. 

"Promise, daddy?" She sniffles staring up at him with doe innocent eyes and he shakes his head, "Harry sweet angel, come back to me moppet." He keeps his gaze locked with her's, gliding his thumb delicately against her cheeks and seals his promise with a kiss. 

"Promise." 

She lets him pull out and he shushes her wrecked whimpers with his lips. Falling to side with a large puff of breather and embraces her with his arm slinged around her shoulders protectively and she hides her face in his chest, mumbling incoherent things and he tries to stay with her emotionally and physically much as possible -- assuring her and soothing her with his sweet nothings. 

"Harry." She whispers softly and his ears perks up at that looking down at her with most loving eyes, "Hi baby." He giggles quietly kissing the tip of her nose and she sniffs cuddling into him. 

"Sorry —- " He shakes his head pinching her chin to make her look up. 

"You don't have to darling -- s'okay, everything's alright." After, making sure she's okay and giving her million re-assurances because he loves to he cleaned her with a damp wash rag. 

"Such a pretty babe." He makes her blush treating her as if she's a china glass doll who'd break at his slightest poke and showers her in praises and kisses because dunno who got her self-esteem and confidence like that but that person sure needs to get punched in their face. 

"Did I hurt you?" He asks tenderly applying a thin layer of cream on her red imprints. She shakes her intervining her fingers into his's one by one and kisses his knuckle, "No." 

"Good." He chuckles as if he was holding his breath. 

"How bout you take a lil nap and I see if I could bring us some brekkie, hmm?" He's gonna break his own rule. Taking food from mess area to your rooms and taking long showers was never allowed, having lights on after 12 because of the risk of attacks. 

"'M not hungry, please stay." Her eyes half open and her face buried into his scented pillow, "Dunno. But to me you look like y'could faint any time soon." He says sternly pulling a snugly clean duvet over her body. 

"Okie but come back quick." 

"Don't worry. In a snap I'll be infront of you." 

//

It's her fourth day here. She came out of his room to socialize just a day before and she realized from the nasty glowers thrown her way that not a single person likes her. 

But it felt like spending a lifespan with Harry. To fill the emptiness of all those moments of their childhood together they lost once after the war. 

She got to know he's the best cuddler and likes to be a small spoon, she loves to jetpack him. He seems rather scary and is scary when he's commanding people off -- they wouldn't dare but to speak a word over him but he's this big softie Y/N likes to squish in their privacy. 

He got her glasses fixed and put them over her nose with a mishevious kiss, she was unable to not to grin when he murmered against her lips, "Now you could punch me with your glasses on." 

"Seems like I don't have to do that anymore." She shrugged squealing afterwards when he threw her over his shoulder tickling her till all she coul see was him and stars. 

It was all going on track until now when she was passing through the lobby to go to Harry who's practicing out in field, "What are you doing here Alex?" She asks angrily grabbing his arm and he tells her feeling relieved she's okay, "I'm here to take you back." 

"But they don't want me back." She grits, he catches her wrist pleading her sadly, "We want you back -- Nia waits for you daily." Nia is his five years daughter. 

"I know that … but — " How she's gonna tell him she's in love with one person they despise with their whole hearts. 

"But what — "

"Alex!!" He was in the midst when she sees a bullet approaching his way from the side of his shoulder and screeches loudly pushing him aside, the bullet makes it's home in her chest. 

It was fired from Harry's gun with his own hands that were loving on her an hour ago. Life drains out of his body and he feels sickness approaching to split his throat, knees turning weak as he stares his shaking hand in horror. 

Before, he could do anything another bullet hits Y/N in shoulder knocking her to floor and this time it was one of his people, the shot was fired on instinct. 

"Put your gun down!!" He shouts at him shoving him away with a single forceful push and strides towards where the love of his life's laying in a pool of blood. 

He pulls his hair maniacly, falling to his knees and pulls her up in his lap cradling her head gently to press his lips against her forehead, "No,no,no,no baby." He sobs wiping his tears away harshly to see her properly. 

"Ouch. It actually hurts." She gives him a frail smile raising her shaky hand to cup his cheek. 

Will it hurt? 

You'll get to know after taking one. 

He wishes he could takes his words back. 

"You'll be fine, you're okay, 'm so so sorry moppet. Didn't-- didn't know y'were standing behind him, bu –-- but s'...s'okay yeah —-- call the doctor!! Why nobody has called him yet!!!" His scream thunders aggressively as everyone watches  their commander this defenceless and vulnerable infront of them for the first time in shock. 

"It's not your fault, okay?" She manages to speak groaning and eyes rolling back from pain residing in her bones torturesly, he cries out like a wounded puppy patting her cheek to keep her awake, "Please stay with me baby, please." Her chest tightens. His chest tightens from the fear of loosing her and he stands up carrying her bridal style tumbling his way on wobbly legs towards the medical ward in the building. 

His tears shiny droplets on her skin and she nuzzles into his fragrance for the last time. 

"There was no happy ending to this," She murmurs. Any, sign of life fading from inside her and replacing her eyes with stoness.

He brings her closer to himself, "hey, hey now none of that -- you're not leaving. 'M not letting you leave." He kicks open the door and lays her limp body on the stretcher. Snapping his head outrageously in every direction to find any doctor but none and drags his palms down his teary face.

He couldn't stop crying.

He's loosing the sunlight of his bleak life he must protect her at all costs.

But, life's prize is something that would have him selling all of what he had worked for and still he'd be unable to even bring her back from cold dark earth.

"Shit. Shit ---– I'll patch you up myself. I know how to take a bullet out — " He creates a ruckus around to collect stuff, "Harry! Harry! listen to me." but her hollow anguish calls for him breaks him at last. 

"How about you spend these last few minutes with me because 'm really 'bout to die commander." She tries to keep her anxious voice cheery but fails drastically coughing blood, "Don't say that baby -- I just got you, don't leave me, don't make me hate myself again." Sad tears trickles down her cheeks and he feels like fainting imagining the pain, agony and fear she's suffering from. 

She's hating to leave him.

"Maybe in afterlife, we could have a nice homely house, long warm baths and two smol kittens —- and oh I forgive you for kidnapping my cat." She admires him for the last time wiping his tears away and tries to lift his head that's lowered into shame. 

She's so fond of him at the moment.

She gulps, trying to gasp for oxygen feeling her heartbeat drop to zero, pleading him, "Tell me you love me before I go." His bloodshot eyes snap to her's and his chest heaves ruggedly with heartbreaking sobs -- his words full of sorrow tasting the bitterness of goodbye on her lips streaking away the blood on her mouth. 

"I love you so much, baby. Never stopped. Never will." She cries at last kissing him back with all the blood she has left pumping to her heart and tries to exchange the words but it was too late before she lost it all -- cold in his loving embrace. 

"Stay…." He begs praying like he did never before. 

"Y/N!!" He screams trying to shake her alive and hugs his angel to himself with mournful wails. 

Everyone standing outside the room knows that they'll never see this Harry again. 

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 5

very pretty, very beautiful

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: intoxication, swearing, feelings, nightmare, fluff, mentions of a deadly car accident

AN: WHOAH OKAY. So I’ve been thinking about the last half of this chapter every second of every minute for the last two days. It has haunted my dreams, y’all. Thanks to that, you get this before the weekend! Yay! Special thanks to @ghostlightprincess, @anlian-aishang, @cant-spell-slay-without-lay, and @horseanon--simpforall for helping me edit and giving me many encouragements and compliments which, quite frankly, made my head the size of Jupiter. I love you all dearly. As always, let me know what you think in my comments/DMs/askbox!! Don’t be a stranger!! And be kind to yourself and others<3 ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 4 here)

“I think you’re very pretty.”

I think you’re very pretty?

Fuck. Shit.

“I-I-I mean,” Levi feels his throat tighten and cheeks set ablaze, “You’re very, uh, very beautiful.” He says it because it’s true, and the truth is what Levi relies on when his brain is short-circuiting. You’re more than pretty, more than something as trivial as very pretty, you’re gorgeous and smart and funny and it makes his palms sweat. Recently, you’ve been everywhere: in his bed, in his arms, in the periphery of his life even outside of the apartment. It’s overwhelming, this is overwhelming, how his hands are on you and how you’re looking up at him with insecure, anticipatory eyes. They’re glassy and red-rimmed, pupils blown to saucers.

Oh. That’s right, she’s high.

Levi lets his hand drop from the top of your head. He tries to move his other hand away from your cheek, but you grasp his wrist to keep it there. He can feel his own pulse fluttering under your fingertips.

“Very beautiful?” It’s soft, hopeful.

He forces himself not to retract the statement (because it’s true) out of self-preservation.

“Very beautiful, kid.” He can say it without stuttering this time. It’s important that you believe him, and it’s equally important that this is as far as it goes.

You close your eyes against the pet name and turn your face into his palm for a split second, press a swift kiss to it and then drop your hand to your lap. His heart stutters. He drops his hand, too.

“Thank you,” the words fall past your lips, careful and distant, as he takes a step back.

He needs some space. To get his head on straight, to scream into a pillow, to talk some sense into himself. Can’t risk this, not with you, not with you.

“Your, um, your pajamas,” he points to the end of the bed where they’re sitting in a neat pile, then turns tail and strides out of your room, shutting the door behind him.

In his room, his jelly legs finally give out and he flops onto his bed.

Fucking hell.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

What kind of question is that? Do you not think you’re pretty? Do you care if he, specifically, thinks you’re pretty, or was it intended more generally? Very pretty, very beautiful. What does that even mean?

Levi may not be eloquent in the least, may not know how to confess that you make his every breath burn in his chest, but he does know how to paint. He stands up, wiping sweaty palms on his flannel pants and examining the painting on his easel. His mom stares back, her eyes sparkling, her hair tumbling over one shoulder in ebony waves. It had taken him the last few days to get the curls just right, and when he added the last highlights of shine, it’d finally felt complete.

“Sorry, mama,” he murmurs as he lifts her to set her against the wall under the window.

A new canvas procured from his closet finds its place on the easel. He sifts through his supply drawers for a moment, setting paints and brushes and charcoal neatly on his desk.

He takes a deep breath, situates himself in his wheelie chair, and leans forward to start sketching.

—

It’s 5 AM when you start screaming in a long, shuddering cry, causing Levi to jolt up in his seat, paintbrush poised over your left temple. It breaks off into sobs that make his gut twist and hands clench. A long moment, then you’re letting out another keening wail and Levi is out of his seat. Paint splatters from the brush where he drops it on his desk and his chair rolls back as he runs, ripping doors open and narrowly avoiding furniture in the dark.

You’re sprawled out, thrashing on the bed, sheets tangled with your legs. Levi sits on the edge of your bed, brows pinched in worry, and reaches for your shoulders. This is okay — he can touch you when you ask for his help. When you whimper and reach for him in your sleep, he can pull you close and smooth a hand across the planes of your back. It’s when you’re looking at him, all trusting and expectant for something, that he’s unsure.

He says your name, low and urgent, once, twice, before your eyes open mid-sob. They’re wide and terrified, your jaw tight, muscles clenched. “It’s me, kid, it’s just me,” he intones, “It was just a dream, you’re safe, it’s just me.”

Your heaving chest slows for a second, hitches somewhere in your sternum, and then you’re launching yourself forward and into him. He catches you there, steady against his chest.

“Breathe.” He sets an example with his own deep breaths.

It’s a long minute before he feels you relax at all, before he feels you sigh against his neck. Your arms are tight around his middle and you must be stronger than you look because after a while it starts to pinch. He doesn’t mind, though, just traces patterns on your back and stares at the pale wall.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He feels you shake your head.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitate before you whisper, “Only if you stay.”

Levi thinks about the wet paintbrush currently drying to his desk. He thinks about the mess of clothes on your floor. He thinks of the half-finished painting of you in his room. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You pull back, and he gets a look at your face in the near-dark. Your eyes are still acutely haunted, but they’ve regained awareness. He lets you take a moment to wipe at your cheeks as he reaches to gently disentangle the sheets and spread them more carefully over your legs.

He looks up at you again to catch your sad eyes with his. Your head is tilted quizzically, knowingly, sympathetically all at once as though he were the one who just woke up screaming. It makes him itch.

“What’s that look for?” he grumbles, toeing his slippers off and tucking them under your bed.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Come here, please.”

He blinks at you for a second. That’s my line. But he goes, crawling into bed with you and slipping under the covers. He lets you tug his arm gently so that he’s on your chest. He gets comfortable there, one arm thrown over your waist and head rested over your heart. Your own arms find a home cautiously around him. You exhale with the grounding pressure of his body on yours and let your mind sink into calm release.

—

The knock on your door breaks your attention from your laptop. You sigh, finish typing your sentence, and push your blue light glasses up your nose before standing up to answer it.

You’re not expecting anyone, but maybe Levi is. He’s been holed up in his room all morning, Chopin drifting lazily under his door, probably studying. Like you’ve been trying to. The second series of knocks on your door makes you jog the last few steps to pull it open.

“Hi—” the greeting dies in your throat when you see who’s standing there.

“Hi,” Annie says. She’s standing, nonchalant as ever, in her winter parka and leggings, holding two to-go cups and a pastry bag.

“What?” It’s a breathless question, genuinely confused. It doesn’t harbor the animosity you would expect — you’re not sure you can feel anything other than queasy right now.

“I got your voicemail.” 

You blink in confusion. She rolls her eyes and thrusts the to-go cups at you with a brief “hold these” before reaching into her pocket for her phone. You just stare at her while she taps and scrolls for a minute. She looks the same as before you stopped speaking: blonde hair tucked into a bun at the back of her head and hoodie peeking out of the collar of her jacket. Maybe a little more tired, though Annie always seemed to be tired.

She holds up her phone for you to hear as a voicemail starts playing and, to your further shock, your own tinny voice spills out. It sounds like you’re crying, and slightly muffled.

“Annie, hi, um, I know it’s late but I couldn’t think of anyone else to call, I just,” sniffle, “I know we’re not talking and I’m still mad at you, like REALLY MAD, okay? But I couldn’t think of who else to call and long story short I think I’m in love with Levi and he might’ve just rejected me but I just couldn’t tell—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut in across your own voice, stepping into the hall with her and toeing the door almost shut behind you. She stops the voicemail. “But why are you here?” You know why she’s here — Annie never backs down from anything, and you had started the conversation, even if you’d been drunk and high and half asleep and you don’t really remember doing it.

“You called, here I am. That’s what best friends do.” Her tone is even.

“Not best friends who fuck their best friends’ boyfriends,” you snap, anger finally bursting from your stomach and into your throat.

She closes her eyes impatiently, sighs, then looks at you again not quite pleadingly.

“Look, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But I’m here now and there’s more to the story that you aren’t aware of.”

“What else could there possibly be?”

“Let’s go for a walk and I’ll tell you,” she offers, then holds up the pastry bag. “I brought coffee and donuts. They’re jelly.”

Jelly donuts are your favorite.

You look down at the cups in your hand. You look back at her steady blue gaze. More to the story.

“Fine.” You turn and kick the door open a little too harshly. “Just let me get dressed.”

She follows you in, even though you don’t extend an invitation, and closes the door softly. You put the cups down on the coffee table and watch her sit in her usual spot on the couch to wait for you out of the corner of your eye. You scowl but say nothing.

It only takes you a minute to shuck off to pajamas and pull on jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots. You don’t bother with a bra.

You knock lightly on Levi’s door and call through, “I’m going for a walk, so make sure to lock up if you leave. I have my keys.” You jingle them as evidence and he grunts in acknowledgment. “Let’s go,” you turn and address Annie, who stands.

The walk down your street to the river is short and habitual, your feet carrying you while your mind races. You can feel the anger and hurt, visceral and stabbing, in your chest. But there’s also something tender there, too, something that acknowledges how you missed your best friend. Something that screams at you to tackle her to the ground and feel her stoic comfort. Instead, you shove your hands deeper into the pockets of Eren’s jacket and kick a pebble, sending it skidding down the sidewalk.

The pair of you reach the walking bridge over the river and pause at the railing. The sky is overcast, threatening a snowstorm. A car beeps downtown, reaching you distantly. Annie hands you a coffee and a donut. You lean against the railing and avoid her gaze.

“So. You wanted to talk. Talk.” You bite into the donut.

She sighs through her nose. “I know what you saw. We… we did kiss, but we didn’t do anything else. We never had sex.”

“Hmm.” A sip of coffee.

“I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. I’m guessing you didn’t exactly listen to Reiner when you broke up with him?”

“I didn’t have time for his bullshit excuses.”

She breaks off a bit of her donut and stares at it contemplatively for a moment, “I know you don’t owe either of us anything, and this isn’t meant as an excuse, but will you listen to why, at least?”

You press your lips together, sneak a look into her devastatingly blue eyes, and nod. What harm can it do? And you have to admit there’s a large part of you that’s been wondering at the why, even if you’ve refused to hear it.

“Okay. Tell me why.”

She takes a deep breath and leans her elbows on the railing before starting to speak, low and pensive.

“I’ve known Reiner and Bertholdt a long time, since we were kids. We’ve always been this… this odd group. You wouldn’t think we were close if you didn’t know us. But it wasn’t always just us.” She pauses, looking distant. “Do you know Porco Galliard?”

Galliard… “He’s a sophomore on the lacrosse team, right?”

“Yeah. Do you know what happened to his brother?”

“He has a brother?”

“Had. Marcel. He was a year older than us but somehow ended up in our little group. And a couple of years ago, senior year of high school, we were all in a car accident. He was home on winter break and we’d all had a little too much to drink, and we convinced him to take us to Denny’s for midnight milkshakes. And, well, there was a winter storm coming in and it’d been freezing rain that week, and we crashed. Marcel died. It was… I hadn’t…” She pauses, tilting her head back to the sky, blinking away tears. “It was horrible.”

Your eyes have gone wide, cast downriver. You don’t know what you’d expected when you walked down here, but it certainly wasn’t this. It wasn’t Annie, only rivaled in her stoicism by Levi, choking back tears and wiping snot from her nose.

“Hey,” you start, voice gentler than it’s been all day. “You don’t have to—”

“No, no, I want to, just... give me a second,” she interjects, wringing out a hand. She takes a deep, purposeful breath.

“Okay,” you whisper, looking back out across the water.

“It, uh, it hit us all really hard, brought us really close together. That’s why we all ended up at school here, actually. It kinda made us realize that, like, time is limited, you know? We don’t have forever. And Bertl, he…” she smiles, watery and reminiscent. “When he asked me out, it felt like a long time coming. It was just about perfect. He felt safe and like home, and… well, you know how in love we were. But I could see that it alienated Rei, at least a bit. He tried not to show it, but I could tell he felt like a third wheel. He was already drifting away from us, still struggling with all this guilt.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That’s a familiar feeling. Guilt. And yet, you’d never noticed it in Reiner, apparently never got close enough to shine a flashlight into his darkest shadows. He’d always seemed so… sunshiney. You clearly hadn’t given him enough credit to dislodge the aura of jock frat boy he projects so brightly.

Soft dough squishes under your fingertips where you’ve resorted to playing with your food instead of eating it as Annie continues.

“And then he met you and fell in love so fast. I was so relieved, I mean, you and I were roommates and it was just perfect, right?” You look at her and see a flicker of hopefulness still there. “I thought maybe you two getting together would bring him back to us, that maybe we’d be alright after all. And at first, it did. But then you moved off campus for sophomore year and he started drifting away again, though he was at least anchored to you, this time. It scared me, it really did.”

She kicks the bottom of the railing lazily, as if to expend the sadness there rather than in her words. The first fat flakes of snow drift down around you. One dances away on your exhale.

“He’s so withdrawn, sometimes, in his own head, and I never know how to reach him there. I didn’t know if he had told you about Marcel, or anything, so I couldn’t go through you. I don’t… I didn’t know what to do, so I just... let it fester. That night, when we kissed, I hadn’t seen him physically for a month. It hurt.”

She looks at you imploringly, like the weight of everything she’s saying lies on deep hurt. You can relate to feeling as though there’s nothing but hurt and guilt and drifting.

“So I figured out where he was from his Snapchat story, abandoned my group project, and went over there to see him. I didn’t know what I’d say or do when I got there, just that I had to get him back, somehow. He was already plastered, you know how he gets, and he wasn’t listening to me, so I just… kissed him. I don’t know what I was thinking, I didn’t know you were there, I didn’t even know you saw until he called me the next day after you broke up with him to chew me out.

“So, long story short,” her voice breaks on a mournful, almost hysterical laugh, “I fucked up the three most important relationships to me in one night because I couldn’t use my words.” She wipes at wet cheeks, not looking at you. “So, um. Yeah, that’s the why, I guess. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or him, but I just… I needed you to know. It wasn’t like, this elaborate affair.”

You aren’t sure how to right your brain from the way it’s tilted off kilter. It’s so much, so different from what you’d built up in your head. There’s no conspiracy, no grand intention to break you.

Even with all this new information, what stupidly slips out first is, “Did he kiss you back?” You blanch, turn to her with wide eyes, “Sorry, that’s not exactly im—”

“No, it’s fine,” she meets your eyes. “He did kiss me back.”

“Oh. Okay, um…” you trail off, bite your lip. You don’t know what exactly to say. Your skin is tight with the urge to forgive her immediately and wholly, but logic holds you back. Now that you know the truth, you need time to heal and get some perspective. You straighten up from where you’d been slouching against the railing. “Okay. You’ve been honest, so I will be, too.”

She stands up fully as well, facing you with one hand on the railing.

“I don’t know how I feel right now,” you start. “I think I need some time and perspective. But, I… I can see now where I went wrong, too. I assumed the worst, didn’t let any communication happen.” You swallow down the lump in your throat threatening to choke your voice. “And, I wasn’t there for Rei like I should have been. I had no idea — no idea! — what he was going through.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly tell you—”

“And why is that?” Your voice breaks, squeaks with the question. “Did he feel like he couldn’t confide in me? Did I make it too much about me and my trauma? I wasn’t exactly shy about telling him my shit.” You take a long draw of coffee. “Anyway. I should probably talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

She nods. “He’d like that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, watching the sparse snow flurry around you. Annie finally starts eating her donut.

“I’ve missed you,” you confess into the storm. “A lot.”

“I missed you, too.”

Your chest aches with both the cold air and the conflicting feelings of relief and regret.

“Why, uh… why didn’t you tell me all that stuff about Marcel?”

She leans on the railing again, takes a sip of coffee before answering. “I was still working through it. Still am, rather. I didn’t know how to bring it up, or that it was relevant.”

You hum, nodding. “I get that.”

There’s another silence, but it feels lighter, less charged. There are still questions bouncing around your mind, but you decide it’s better to process through them on your own rather than blurting out something stupid. Perspective.

“So,” she shoots you a look under blonde eyelashes, “what’s this about you being in love with Levi?”

“Aw, shit,” you laugh, leaning your elbows back on the railing and giving her an imploring look. “It really snuck up on me.”

“Is that so? Can’t say I’m shocked.” Her tone is dry, a little amused around the last bite of jelly donut. She wipes her fingers on her leggings and faces you. “And you think he rejected you.”

“Well, I…” you cringe, thinking back to last night. “He called me very beautiful.”

“Doesn’t sound like a rejection.”

“It was the way he said it! Like it physically hurt him to admit, and then he just ran out of the room,” you whine, scrubbing a hand down your face.

“I think that’s just his emotional constipation.” 

You look at her sharply, mouth agape, to catch her eyes dancing and the corner of her lip curling upward slightly. “Annie!”

“What? I’m right.” She finishes off her coffee, tilting back the cup to catch the last dregs of it. “He likes you, or he’s an idiot if he doesn’t.”

You narrow your eyes in doubt, mirroring her half-smile. “Hmm. We’ll see.”

“Yes,” she promises, crumpling up the pastry bag in her fist and stuffing it in her pocket. “We will.”

—

(read part 6 here)

[cdroloisms]

more of the ghost!dream au!! still no good names for it, sorry (feel free to give me recs? maybe?) - picking off right where we left off here [x]. i’ve gotten quite a bit of this pre-written already as well as quite a bit planned - it’s definitely one of my favorite universes at the minute and something im really excited to show yall !! 

tw: death, memory loss (?), grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy relationship, grief, emotional distress, implied torture/abuse, aftermath of prison arc/pandora’s vault, dark(ish?) portrayal of c!sam (he’s one of the main figures of this au lmao but it grapples quite a bit w/ what he did in pandora)

Sam had only met Ghostbur once.

He never knew the former president well, had been busy with his own base during the Revolution and came back to the server in chaos after an ill-fated election and the man exiled. It hadn’t mattered, much, at the time; Wilbur was an imposing man, even in others’ recollections of him, and their words left very very little to the imagination. From what he knew, Wilbur was a smart man, cunning and silver-tongued, brimming with an unending fountain of belief that he could change the world with his words and his words alone; the server, overrun with memories of scuffles and battles and wars and countries Sam had not been around to remember, only seemed to serve as proof that he could. The few glimpses of the man that he managed to catch showed dark, tired eyes, a figure that stood almost as tall as he did, lips twisted in a perpetual tight-lipped smile.

Even as he spiraled, unexplainably, whispers of madness chasing the wind and landing in choppy fragments in the Badlands meetings held over Skeppy and Bad’s dinner table, those eyes never became less piercing, never failed to seem like they were burning through whatever and whoever they looked at. Sam hadn’t been the subject of that stare many times, but he remembers the bone-deep anxiety from having those eyes on him, even now.

Ghostbur, somehow, was the complete opposite; where his eyes had once been all-too knowing, belying their owners’ intelligence, a ruthless penchant for analysis that would split bone from marrow with a single sharp-edged glance, the phantom’s eyes were completely vacant. Instead of the glossy whites and rings of brown that would flicker warm to cool and warm again without warning, there was only an empty, all-encompassing blue.

He had floated over to Sam following a particularly difficult- session, with the prisoner, greeting him with an airy call of his name as Sam set off to his base for the night. He’d startled, then, still fresh off the adrenaline that was sent coursing through his veins each time he entered those blackstone walls, and started a sort of easy, unfocused conversation as they went along the path to the nether portal.

Ghostbur was - off, for the lack of a better word, even with Sam’s lack of familiarity of either side of the man - who he’d been before and what he’d become. His memories slipped through his mind like water seeping through fingers, and his attention span didn’t seem much better. Still, Sam listened to that echoing, otherworldly voice, nodded along as he eagerly recounted his day - or what he could recall from it, at least, until his feet had brought him along the same well-worn path to the nether portal, spitting purple sparks into the night.

“I’ll have to be going, Ghostbur,” he’d said through a thin smile, muscles aching under netherite as he pulled his shoulders back. The ghost’s head had cocked to the side, watching him with empty eyes, hands outstretched in front of him, palms up.

“Sam-” the ghost blinked slowly, “Are you sad?”

Sam froze. Ghostbur stared at him, face still kept in that same blank expression, eyes still an endless blanket of blue, but something - in his stance, perhaps, in the echoes of his words as they reverberated off of nothing, felt familiar, felt like looking up expecting a window and coming face to face with a shattered mirror - before the phantom’s face broke out in a weightless smile.

“Have some blue!”

The blue was dropped unceremoniously into his hands as he fumbled the catch and nearly let it fall to the ground; the clear, glassy surface of it tainted blue by his fingertips, the color swirling and darkening in his hands. He watched it, mesmerized, as blossoms of blue bloomed beneath his skin; his feelings, sharp-edged, became sea glass tossed in its shifting waves, smoothed, numbed, slowly sucked away in a pulsing chorus of blue blue blue-

“That’s quite a lot of blue,” Ghostbur chirped, and Sam blinked at the thing in his hands - navy, the same color as the sky above their heads clinging to the last remnants of twilight - “Would you like some more?”

“...no thanks, Ghostbur,” Sam looked back up, feeling through the new, blue-tinged fog in his brain, memories blurred at the edges but lacking the same burning sting of regret, “Good night.”

“Good night, Sam!” Wilbur smiled, blank blue eyes trained on his face even as Sam stepped into the portal and the world swirled away. “See you soon!”

---

“Sammy,” Dream walked - no, floated, forwards as Sam took a step back, unresponsive, “is there something wrong?”

Sam swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

He was a spitting image to Dream as he first knew him; the same tousled hair, freckled face, down to the ratty old jacket that he’d insisted on wearing at all times, made of a garish shade of lime-green and covered in customized patches that Bad - unable to resist his puppy eyes - had always ended up fixing the thing with. He had a gap in his teeth that had left him with a lisp for weeks back then, prompting Sapnap’s teasing much to Dream’s annoyance; his head tipped to the side, curious, familiar, and something deep inside Sam’s chest ached.

“Dream-” he tried, chest tightening further when the ghost’s face broke out into a brilliant smile, “why are you here?”

Why do you remember me?

He hadn’t talked to Ghostbur much, but he’d heard, to some degree, about how the ghost operated, how his memories were inconsistent at best, seemingly dependent on the emotions he’d attached to them while alive. How he went through the world in a state of unshakable bliss at the cost of his mind. Dream’s memories of him should’ve been anything but happy; why was he here?

“What do you mean?” Dream blinked at him, eyebrows scrunched, lips set in a small frown. His eyes, black and vacant, seemed to swallow all light, even with the sun streaming through the branches. “Where am I suppos’d to go?”

“Don’t you want to be with George and Sapnap?”

Dream’s face was blank, and the pit in Sam’s gut grew deeper. “Who’s that?”

“George?” Sam could feel his voice begin to tremble, eyes widening. “Sapnap? You know them, right?”

“No?” Dream drew out the word, looking at him like he’d grown another head. “Should I know them?”

“Should you- Dream, this isn’t funny- they’re your best friends! They were your best friends- Pandas? Do you know Pandas?”

“You mean like in the jungles? I haven’t been in a jungle before, Sam, d’you think we could visit one?”

“No- Pandas, do you-” Dream only looked at him with the same confused, uncomprehending expression, not even a flicker of recognition in his face; Sam could hear his heart thudding in his ears, a distant horror growing and wrapping around his throat, “How about Ponk? Alyssa? Calla? Bad?”

Each name did nothing to change the blankness on Dream’s face, the screaming thoughts in Sam’s head growing to a fever pitch when the ghost in front of him shook his head, hair whipping back and forth.

“Nope!” His hands tugged at his hoodie sleeves, the movement familiar in a way that had echoes of long-forgotten memories drifting to the surface, holding his heart in a chokehold and squeezing tight. “Are they your friends?”

“Dream,” he stepped forward - felt a shadow of a pickaxe held in his fists, the shape of the name in his mouth bringing forth the taste of iron and smoke and painting the inside of his eyelids red - and stopped in his tracks. The images melted away, left just a kid standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on nothing, and Sam was going to be sick.

“Who do you remember?”

Dream smiled as the question registered, directing a look of such open, unadulterated adoration his way that it stole all of the air from Sam’s lungs.

“You, dummy!” He laughed, airy and light. “Who else?”

---

He brought him to his base, because what else was he supposed to do?

Dream skipped behind him, entirely enamoured with Fran; he watched as she melted under his enthusiastic scratches at the tufts of fur at her neck. He’d always been a soft touch with animals, had brought home stray mobs more than a few times as a kid; Sam swallowed around his unease and trudged forward.

“Puppy!” He nearly screeched with laughter, and Sam looked back to see Dream with his arms wrapped around Fran’s neck, face buried in her fur as giggles made his shoulders shake. Fran gave him a sloppy lick on the cheek, making him break out into a new round of high-pitched wheezes, “Good girl! Good puppy!”

“Hurry up, Dream,” Sam turned away. “We don’t have all day.”

“Oh- m’sorry,” Dream’s voice quieted, almost seemed to wobble, and Sam bit down on his tongue as they continued to walk back. He- didn’t know what to do, not with this version of Dream, not the little kid he’d half-forgotten instead of the masked monster he’d become so accustomed to. It was so much easier to slip into the mask, let his voice drop cold and deep and empty, the role of the Warden heavy and comfortable like a set of netherite armor. He pointedly kept his eyes staring forward, looking for the edge of the forest they’d ended up stuck in so he could finally see.

A sudden, yipping bark came from behind, thoroughly startling him and sending a sword appearing in a flash of white. He huffed at Fran, looking at him with faux innocent eyes, really?

Unfortunately, both she and Dream had somehow fallen ridiculously behind, the ghost having lowered to the ground at some point as Fran sat and wagged her tail. He rolled his eyes, making his way back towards the duo, feeling irritation press in the form of a headache against the front of his skull.

“Come on,” he muttered, wincing at how clipped his words sounded, even in his own ears. Not the same Dream, Sam. You’re not in the prison anymore. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes narrowing as he came closer; Dream hadn’t just stopped because of some distraction, as he first assumed. The kid was leaning against Fran, hands twisted loosely in her fur, head tipped forward and leaning against her body.

“Dream?”

The ghost looked up at his voice, one hand going to rub at his eye. His hair seemed to be moving around less than earlier, lips twisted in a small frown.

“M’sleepy, Sammy,” he mumbled around a yawn, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He reached both hands up, palms facing the sky, as he stared expectantly. “Up.”

Aren’t you a little big to be carried? The retort came to mind as easily as breathing, echoed in his own head by his own voice, younger, exasperated but fond. His arms shook with the memory of a kid wrapping his arms around his neck and fumbling with his crown, with the feeling of a dead weight resting against the crook of his elbows, tall and lanky and far too light for its size, held in his arms one final time-

“Please?”

Sam shook his head.

“We’re walking to my base. Come on.”

[huebris808]

Dr. Hofnarr’s Horrible, No-Good, Very Weird 15 Years Of Being Dead.

a tribute to fanon interpretations/character study(?) that was going to be a bonus chapter in a post-canon/au comedy fic im working on! might come back to expand on this when i do start posting it (or if mpn gives him more background story lore that i’ll have to work with aoAHGHOAUGH)

happy madness day! :o)

“Where should I begin… Perhaps at the very beginning? OH! Christoff and I first met years before our Nexus days! Back in our freshman years of college, to be precise! You know, I was actually a theater major before switching to- ... A-Aah, too far back. Much too far... Let’s start from the point where the notes I supplied to you ended then, shall we? After our dissension...”

.. “Good luck, old friend...” ..

The first years on the run from Nexus was stressful to say the least. Hofnarr and Christoff had split up to better their chances of survival. He knew the process would be grueling, having talked to Christoff almost every night about it to calm his nerves. While he played calm for the cameras, Hofnarr truly wished he could have held him close one last time. No communications. No physical contact. Day after day, month after month, nothing. He would be separated from his husband for a very long time…

It wasn’t all bad after a while. He had a comfortable new apartment, went under a new alias, and his questionable new job paid him enough to buy food. His apartment even had cable! He could watch marathons of Slaughter Time whenever he got home! In hindsight, he wondered if that had an effect on his mental state at the time...

Hofnarr had taken the last of his S3LF regulator with him, having shipped them out to an undisclosed location prior to dissension. Dissonance exposure did a number on him and his research team, leaving them to track their “normality” through daily blood tests and injections. While they met their fates early on, Hofnarr had gotten lucky. That is, until the doses began to run out.

Stressful as it was, he knew what he had to do. Hofnarr rushed back to what remained of the labs, knowing it had been abandoned by now. It was ironic, he and Christoff’s work, the work that was turned against them, was the one thing keeping him alive. For days, he worked to make more doses from the materials he brought with him. But there was only so much he could do with limited supplies… Hofnarr made many attempts to prolong the inevitable, lowering his dosage amount, injecting it weekly rather than daily, but he eventually ran dry. 

Refusing to turn to darker alternatives, he felt the only thing he could do at this point is record his final findings through video logs.

“It was… interesting revisiting the footage, to put it nicely. Christoff had actually kept the video files on a drive after he originally found all my things in the lab! I barely remembered what happened back then, so I rewatched them out of curiosity.”

On the first night, Hofnarr recorded a message for Christoff. One filled with sorrow, but also with gratitude. For the time that they spent together. How special he made him feel. All the memories they made together...

On the next, he recorded a log detailing his findings during Project Nexus. The effects of dissonance, the Other Place, what it did to him and his colleagues, everything and anything he could.

The next, he reported on the progression of his symptoms. Fever, brain fog, insomnia, joint pain. He felt like his organs were melting, his skin bursting at the seams.

The next night he saw something and remembered. Scars. The scars on his head. That week he was in the staff hospital. He thought it was a dream but the scars were there. Phobos. Director Phobos brought him somewhere that week. He knew he felt off when he woke up in the office that night. He knew something was off when Christoff asked him where he was. He thought he passed out from over-working. That bastard Phobos. Nausea was replaced with rage as he began to scream, his throat becoming raw. What did he put in him? What the hell did he put inside him!?

On the last recorded log, he was face-down on the ground. Groaning as his body occasionally convulsed. Until the video feed eventually cut off.

His body would lay there dormant, dead, for fifteen years. 

But to Hofnarr, he felt like he was dreaming.

.. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR OUR NEXT CONTESTANT!” ..

“Huh?” The doctor sat up and looked around, the area around him pitch black. Wasn’t he sleeping just a moment ago? He got up and took a step forward in the seemingly endless void. “H-Hello? Who’s out there?”

“AWW, DON’T BE SHY NOW! ESTEEMED AUDIENCE, A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR GUEST; THE UNFORTUNATE DOCTOR HOFNARR!”

A light shined down on him from above. A crowd seemingly began to cheer all around him. He was in the center of what looked like a talk show set. Hofnarr awkwardly scratched the corner of his face. “‘Unfortunate’? W-What do you mean? W-Who are you?”

“FIGHT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER!” The voice above him called out again. “AFTER ALL, IT’S…!” Hofnarr drowned out the noise while trying to think. It sounded familiar. Like it came from…

Hofnarr’s thoughts were cut short. He looked down at his torso. Terror set in as he recognized an entire stop sign had been lodged through his chest.

“DON’T GET COLD FEET NOW! THE SHOW’S ONLY JUST BEGUN!” 

The words echoed in Hofnarr’s mind as he frantically tried to pull it out, his vision growing muddled, his hands slipping with blood until…

He blinked.

No stage. No sound. No pain.

Nothing around except for a single white door in front of him.

He stood up again, cautiously reaching for the doorknob.

When he entered he seemed to be in a vintage styled home. It was a kitchen with checkerboard flooring, a table with two chairs, and cheerful music playing through a small radio. It smelled of pastry and medical equipment. Suddenly, there was a knock coming from the door. A familiar voice called from behind it.

“I’m home, dear.” “J-Jeb?!”

Hofnarr rushed towards the front door. Christoff wasn’t trapped here too, was he? “Jeb! W-where are we!? What is this place? What happened to-”

As he opened the door, the clapping returned.

His husband was there, briefcase in hand, his face replaced with a black hole dripping with an unknown inky substance.

He slowly began to back away as “Jeb” moved closer.

The applause, the laughter, was deafening.

Before he could question or run away, Hofnarr was hit by something. His vision blurred, but refocused to be face-to-face with something. It seemed to be a shadow of himself. He tried to run again, but was pinned down by his doppelganger. The clone raised a clawed hand above him and then...

Like waking from a nightmare, Hofnarr quickly sat up once again. He gasped for air, dripping with cold sweat.

Was this really happening? Was it finally over? Was he free?

And then the spotlight focused on him again.

“It… got very surreal. Despite fight after fight, death after painful death... I would suddenly be somewhere else! There was a gameshow, our old apartment, a cat cafe, a... strip club of sorts, a tea room filled with these small armless doodles I used to draw on my research notes trying to offer me snacks… One time there was a sort of singing contest, but I won’t bore you with the details of that one. But when I wasn’t in those places, I felt like I was fighting for my life. It felt like an eternity! And the strangest part of it all? It… it became addicting.”

At first, he felt as if Hofnarr used all of his energy, physical and emotional, to fight back. It reminded him too much of his escape from Nexus. But as time went on, he focused less on escaping and more on surviving. The more he fought, the more he began to lose himself. He was anticipating what sudden whiplash of combat would be thrown at him next. He chuckled at the thought of what excitement would be heading his way. He wanted more. The fights became too slow. Too predictable. Too boring. He began toying with whatever was thrown at him. Turning his shadowy hunters into the hunted. Why let his audience watch the same old fights all the time?

Suddenly, the fighting stopped.

Why? 

He was having fun, wasn’t he? He grew impatient.

“WHAT’S THE HOLD UP!” He yelled into the void, seething with anger. “AREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO BE FIGHTING? ISN’T THAT WHAT I’M HERE FOR?!”

He stomped his foot down, lodging something out of the ground.

The stop sign.

He looked over it curiously. How familiar…

Grabbing hold of it, quick flashes of memories appeared to him.

Nexus, the Science Tower, Phobos, the Other Place… 

A man with long hair standing next to...

Hofnarr… 

Who was that? Was that him?

No…

Only Tricky remained.

Footsteps echoed throughout the halls of the abandoned lab. Heels quickly clicking, cautiously stopping every so often. A lone Nexus Core agent entered through one of the doors.

Perfect timing.

“HAY! YOU THERE!!” A voice stuttered and glitched out, reverberating through the emptiness of the lab. The quickly soldier whipped their head around. “YEAH! YOU, STUPID. PLAY WITH ME!!”

“Who’s there?” The agent pointed their magnum towards the noise. “Show yourself!”

Gladly. The cackling figure emerged from the shadows, posing with a peace-sign, causing the agent to recoil. He grinned, slowly moving towards the cowering goon on the ground. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Who are you!?”

They couldn’t kill him.

“FIGHT FIRST. ASK QUESTIONS LATER! AFTER ALL…” 

CAN’T KILL CLOWN.

“IT’S MURDER TIME!”

..

“My body had been there, regenerating and repeating the enmeshment process for years. And by the time I woke up, I was a completely different person. I became a creature of unfiltered impulse… A personification of chaos itself.”

The room grew silent before Hofnarr spoke up again.

“I-Is it horrible to say it was… kind of cool?” He said with a nervous chuckle, twiddling his fingers.

2BDamned was quiet for a moment. They recalled the many times they had to stitch their comrades back together due to Clown Moments. They placed their head in their palms and let out a sigh.

“... You have the right to your own opinion.”

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

BONUS: songs i was listening to on loop while working on this instead of doing my damned writing assignment. Enjoy

lady gaga ft. dorian electra - replay

vestik - tricky's vengeance ft. monocronic

[narrators-journal]

A run-in with a succubus

Here we go, another entry in the dr stone modern Monster AU or whatever. This idea just is so much fun to me, so yeah, expect more ship-focused writing or something lololol. Either way, I hope you enjoy my dumb little ideas~

Succubi and Incubi were arguably the bane of a monster hunter's existence. They were born of already dead souls, so they couldn't be perma-killed like a vampire or werewolf could, they often came with a slew of powers that varied from demon to demon in exact powers and strength, so each one was basically an rng-decided-encounter. Senku, however, didn't really mind dealing with sex demons. So, when he was called to deal with a particularly powerful seeming demon who was harassing an entire neighborhood, he didn't mind and just set to work on sniffing out the sex demon. It didn't hurt that the twenty-year-old hunter had fun drawing out the demon lurking around in the darkness of the night. He enjoyed having the chance to make dry ice bombs, light garbage can fires, or do anything to stir up drama in the quiet neighborhood to cover the fact that he was marking specific spots with symbols that he'd later use to banish the succubus from the area until his ruckus finally drew the attention he wanted and the street's temperature dropped a noticeable and sudden amount, one of the biggest signs that a demon was in the area. The thought of a demon now zeroing in on him in the chilly night honestly sent a thrill down the hunter's spine, or, more-so, Senku was excited to confront a creature he could maybe question and mine for information on his species. However, before he could try to bring back any bit of possibly helpful information about sex demons, he'd have to actually encounter the demon he's supposed to be hunting. So, he just returned to acting like an annoying teen or troublemaker who broke into yards and stole a few things before painting a half finished symbol beside a stranger's trampoline and flopping onto the bouncy piece of equipment to stretch out and wait out the demon. I guess now it's up to waiting. Senku thought with a sigh, hating this period in hunting monsters, having to wait. At least with sex demons, they were pretty easy to lure, despite what his slightly snobby mentor, Xeno Wingfield, always told him. All he had to do was get the demon's attention and then wait for the creature to approach him to attempt to feed. Luckily, maybe, for the apprentice hunter, he ended up dozing off completely on the trampoline, only stirring when he felt himself bounce when the tightly woven surface of the trampoline was jostled. When he woke up with a jump, Senku's crimson eyes were met with a sight that he wasn't exactly used to seeing. In general, the leek-haired man wasn't super experienced with sex, so the sight of someone straddling him with half lidded eyes and a coy smirk was already a surprise, but the added temporary shock of the two tails, one to match each half of his split-colored hair and small, equally mismatched horns sent his brain for a loop in the first few moments of him being awake.         "Ah! I see you've woken up!" the succubus cooed, his hands sliding up the hunter's chest until they were chest to chest with the demon's hips wiggling to make his tails sway as rhythmically as a pendulum, "good morning handsome~ I don't think you'd mind if I maybe had a little nibble from you, would you?" The hunter blinked at the demon's words, taking a moment to register the situation before shaking his head, which seemed to shock the demon. Props to the succubus though, because he adjusted very quickly, just cupping Senku's cheek and sending a wave of tingly sensations across his pale skin. However, it was like the warm, euphoric feeling didn't sink in, didn't reach his brain to turn off the common sense as the creature spoke again,           "Come on now, if you're awake, might as well have a bit of fun with a succubus, right? I'm told I'm quite the catch.~" he tried, giving the man a quick kiss, and while it wasn't at all bad, it didn't spark a hormonal reaction the sex demon seemed to be seeking. "Why aren't you falling under my spell?" he huffed, his dark blue eyes shining with frustration and confusion, but all Senku could do was stare while the demon pushed himself back into a sitting position with lashing tails.             "I’m sorry, was I supposed to do something specific? Was the kiss supposed to do something?" He asked, making the sex demon growl at him,            "It's already weird that you woke up when I was trying to feed on you, but you're not supposed to just shrug off my magic. You're supposed to be horny putty in my hands right now, not laying there staring up at me like a kid during his first damned time." he complained, and all the odd-haired man could do again was shrug at him.             "I get the sense I've maybe offended you..."             "No, I'm not offended." he huffed, "I'm just frustrated. I think I need a moment," with that, he rolled off of the hunter, making him bounce on the lawn toy as the cranky demon sat up, now a distance away, to pout. So, Senku sat up and sat on the edge of the trampoline against the mesh barrier around the circumference of the thing, politely waiting a small stretch of time before trying to question his new companion.              "So, uh, why do you have two tails? Is that normal for incubi and succubi?" He asked after a long moment, turning his red eyes back to the succubus to watch the twin tails flick and lash before the sex demon spoke,             "Kinda rude to ask about my biology before even asking for my name."             "Well, alright, my name's Ishigami Senku, what's yours?" that got the apprentice hunter a dirty look, but he did answer,             "Asagiri Gen," he gave a nod, then repeated his question,             "So, why do you have two tails? Is that normal for sex demons?" He watched said tails fall and send a ripple across the taut surface as Gen sighed,             "I come from a line of strong sex demons, the two tails are a feature I inherited from my family, like how you look like your family has a resemblance to one another, this is my line's shared feature for the most part. No, I do not know the biological reason beyond that, it's just something I have." With that, they returned to a momentary silence, full of Gen throwing inquisitive looks towards the man sent there to banish him, trying to get a read on his intimate details, but the leek wasn't giving him any cues as to any deep dark fetishes or secrets, he was watching him, but with the same curiosity a scientist had towards the lab rat he'd just gotten, not a hint of lust or desire in his body language.               "How often do you have to feed?" The monster hunter asked as the sex demon turned to face him, meeting his own question-filled gaze with his own,              "Y’know what? I'll answer your questions if you answer mine, how about that?" Gen offered, giving him a sweet smile while his tails returned to their gentle swaying, and he pretty eagerly nodded, "Great! I can go about 3 months without food if I feed for a month or so straight. Are you into men?" The blunt question made the hunter blink a bit, but he shook the small shock off,              "Yeah, all of my crushes have been men. Are sex demons all bi? Do you have, like, a 'status quo' sort of sexuality?" As he spoke, the succubus moved closer to him, casually answering as he crawled over as seductively as possible,             "Not that I've seen, though I personally am bisexual, but I generally prefer to go for men~" he hummed, putting his hands on the leek-haired man's thighs so that he got another wave of tingly warm sensations as he leaned closer to his face "How many people have you slept with, dear Senku?" The hunter thought a bit, not reacting strongly to the buzzing feeling across his skin nor how close Gen's face was to his when he spoke,              "I haven't slept with anyone, I rarely get the urge to have sex at all, dear...Asagiri," he hummed, and the sex demon's face turned to a look of 'aha' for a moment,              "Senku, are you asexual at all?" He huffed, narrowing his dark blue eyes at the leek, already knowing the answer, but he answered nonetheless,             "I am gray-ace and homoromantic, I think," he gave another infuriating shrug, "haven't put much thought into the labels." At that, Gen pushed himself off of the hunter, flopping back onto the trampoline and making the hunter bounce briefly into the air,                 "God DAMN IT." He groaned, his tails once again lashing in frustration. So, for a moment or two longer, they sat in silence, until the succubus spoke once again, "I know you're here to banish me from the neighborhood, just go ahead and do it." that honestly surprised the hunter-in-training, making him raise his eyebrows at the demon,               "Really? No fight? No argument?" The monster sat up with a long sigh,               "Yeah, I can't exactly fight you, I'm as physically strong as you are without my powers of seduction," he pointed out, "it wouldn't be that much of a fight," He had a point with that, Senku wasn't that physically strong, so he didn't bother arguing and just climbed out of the trampoline's little barrier and hopped down to the lawn. While he got his paint out of his equipment bag, Gen laid on his stomach and watched him grumpily. Why is he still so pissy about not feeding off me? Senku thought, finally just asking while he tried to re-activate the paint,             "Why are you so grumpy about me not being into you? Haven't you run into an asexual before?" The succubus jumped a bit at the sudden question, but once again covered it pretty quickly,             "I have run into asexuals before, but I was wanting to feed on you, you're really cute." he admitted, and the hunter snorted, beginning to finish up the symbol he'd painted beforehand,             "Well, if it's any consolation, if we run into each other when you're not being a nuisance, maybe you can try to, y'know, properly seduce me." he suggested, and that made the demon perk up and quickly agree. With that, Senku finished up the symbol and Gen was thrown from the neighborhood. Yeah, sure, he'd likely go somewhere else to feed, but the leek's job was done, so he was satisfied and simply returned home with a smile.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Tentaquicky

Pairing; Jeon Jeongguk(BTS) x open male tentacle monster character. Imagine whoever you want. Genre; Smut. Monster au I guess? Borderline Crack. Humour. Warnings; Tentacle smut. Multiple orgasms(two) Name calling by author(sorry jk) Overstimulation. Profanity, like lots though once again, mostly by author. Cum eating. Too much cum but like, monster so its valid. Throat fucking. Bottom JK. I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed anything. Word Count; 2.7k  

Jeongguk gets fucked in an alley by a tentacle monster and discovers he got some kinks.

Read below the cut

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It started like any other time, lips on his and a hand wrapped around his hard cock. The lips were slick and wet and the hand warm and dry and it was fucking heavenly. Jeongguk had always liked it a little on the rougher side even if he had been too shy to tell anyone that. And it was only supposed to be a hookup, some random guy from the club jerking each other off in the back alley before returning to the club and going their separate ways, so Jeongguk really didn’t see the point of even trying to gather the nerves to tell this guy.

It was supposed to be normal. Standard. Run of the mill. You know, nothing extraordinary. 

But damn, something about this guy was making Jeongguk want something else, something more, something he couldn’t even put his finger on(though he really wanted to put both his fingers and his tongue on something more, something bigger, thicker, fatter, longer, girthier, all those words Jeongguk craved in his mouth).

And this next moment should’ve been the moment Jeongguk put a stop to it all to really consider what the actual fuck is happening because the stranger’s tongue seemed to grow and thicken and fucking lengthen and the next thing Jeongguk knew it was was prodding at the back of his throat cautiously.

He gagged, of course, he gagged, he hadn’t expected it and wasn’t prepared to have his throat fucked at all while making out but holy shit did it feel good.

Jeongguk relaxed his throat and the man hummed feeling the muscles loosen, allowing his newly rounded tongue to wiggle down, only barely, before pulling back and trying again.

And Jeongguk, our favourite little cockslut, whined and moaned and swallowed it down further, practically begging for it.

While Jeongguk was busy getting his throat absolutely destroyed and loving every second of it, the man removed his hand from the leaking cock to push down the tight leather trousers further until they were bunched around Jeongguk’s ankles.

And Jeongguk, Jeongguk thought it couldn’t get better but then there was a hand on each asscheek to pull them apart and something slick and rounded was prodding at his exposed hole and he was so glad that Hoseok had dragged him to the club that night. 

For a moment, Jeongguk didn’t exactly register that there was no physically possible way that it was a cock pressing insistently against his rim; his back was to the wall and the stranger was in front of him, so unless this guy had some kind of elastidick, it just wasn’t possible.

The moment passed and Jeongguk’s right hand flew from his partner’s shoulder in an attempt to reach around and touch whatever it was but something wrapped around his wrist and pinned it to the wall by his side, followed by his left hand too for good measure.

Jeongguk finally opened his watering eyes to look at the man who was already staring at him with dark eyes, full of lust and a hunger Jeongguk had never had directed at him before. A shiver ran down his spine.

Slowly, Jeongguk lowered his gaze, doing his best to look to the side to find out what had his arms pinned, all he knew was that it(they?) felt firm yet squishy and soft in a contradiction that he couldn’t wrap his poor horny brain around.

But due to being pressed against the stranger with his tongue(?) still pressing in and out of his throat at a leisurely pace, he couldn’t see jack shit. 

A desperate, pleading whine vibrated his throat and the man groaned at the feel of it but respectfully returned his monster tongue to his own mouth and took a step back. 

“Wh-wha..?” Now Jeongguk wasn’t the most eloquent at the best of times so his inability to string together a coherent single word let alone a sentence in the situation could be easily forgiven.

While his chest heaved in an attempt to return his breathing back to normal, Jeongguk’s eyes once again roamed aside but this time he found what exactly his bindings were made of.

Or at least he thought he would’ve but the things wrapped around his wrists looked like fucking tentacles and well, that couldn’t be right. Right? Like, tentacles...like monster tentacles...fuck.

Really, he should’ve noticed from the tongue that grew in his fucking mouth that something wasn’t quite human about this fella but Jeongguk is nothing but a hentai loving, tentacle dick riding slut, so honestly he wasn’t opposed to the progression at all.

The man just watched, hoping that this wasn’t going to be another human who he would have to knock out and drag away to have their mind wiped or at least memories altered in a way that would only make them sound batshit crazy if they ran off screaming to the authorities.

He really had felt that special kind of tingle he got around humans that were at least open to monster fucking, but he had been wrong before- sometimes he couldn’t tell the difference between really needing a piss and the special tingle and it had led to some less than ideal situations.

Finally, Jeongguk’s gaze travelled along the length of the smooth, deep pink-tinted purple tentacle to where it was slimmest, exactly where the man’s dick should’ve been. But instead, three tentacles sprouted, each barely thicker than a single thumb at the base to allow them to spawn from the same limited area.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk exhaled, breathless even with lungs full of air. 

“Three dicks.” 

“Not exactly.” The man chuckled, relaxing upon noticing that his pretty little human wasn’t at all disgusted or scared, if anything, he looked more into their hook up than before they stopped dancing to find somewhere relatively private to get each other off.

Before Jeongguk’s very eyes, another tentacle sprouted, growing and reaching out, getting thicker as it stretched until it was wrapped around Jeongguk’s neglected cock. 

The human whimpered pitifully and jerked his hips forward only for the warm appendage to tighten almost painfully around the base of his erection, preventing him from moving or gaining any pleasure from his efforts. At least that was the plan but Jeongguk discovered he liked it, if anything.

“Oh, I guess I got real lucky with you, huh, little one?” The monster cooed teasingly.

“Lube?” Jeongguk asked, unwilling to beat around the bush when he could be getting railed by a real tentacle, maybe two if he played his cards right.

“My secretions work better than any human lubricant.” 

“Oh fuck, tentacle lube,” Jeongguk tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes closed in an attempt to not prematurely blow his load because man, this was all of his wettest dreams rolled into one. 

“Fuck me, come on, put it in me already, I stretched before coming out, almost my whole fucking fist I can take-” The pressure on his rim cut him off and made his eyes blow wide when the tentacle that hadn’t moved from between his barely spread thighs breached his hole. 

It seemed to expand inside him, instantly pushing against his prostate and making him gasp and twitch. 

He was full in a way he had never been before and just knew he would never be able to replicate no matter how many toys or human dicks he shoved in his ass.

“Good boy,” 

“Fuck yeah I am.” 

The man only chuckled in response and said nothing more.

Not that he could really when he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to reveal another tentacle in his place. 

Jeongguk’s mouth was wide open and his eyes begging in a split second. 

They both groaned deeply as the tonguetacle returned to its rightful place fucking Jeongguk’s mouth and throat, though now it wasn’t gentle or slow, it was almost vicious, the speed and depth at which it worked.

A mixture of spit and thick secretion pooled in Jeongguk’s eager mouth until it spilt over, drooling down his chin, sliding over his jaw and dripping onto his chest, revealed by having about five too many buttons open; standard for club going Jeongguk since he turned 23 and the world thanked him for it.

The tentacle on his dick finally loosened its hold and leaked a little, just enough to ease the slide as it curled around in a slow, teasing manner that was entirely contradictory to the battering his throat was getting and the thick, unwavering pulsating in his asshole that he just knew was going to leave him gaping. He couldn’t fucking wait to bend over in front of a mirror later to get a good look at it, he hoped that monster cum would leak out. But beggars can’t be choosers- though Jeongguk would happily beg for it if it came down to it.

Getting destroyed at three different sensitive parts of his body in different ways had Jeongguk fucking hurtling towards his orgasm at a speed and intensity which he had only read of in poorly written fanfiction by authors that have no idea what they’re doing where smut writing is involved. Incredible.

It barely took another minute before he found himself writhing and shuddering as his orgasm exploded from his dick like a twitchy weird little fleshy volcano that spews cum. And it was wonderful.

The tongue receded from his mouth so that he didn’t choke in a way that would not be sexy at all.

 But the one in his ass, it continued its work, pounding and throbbing, sending Jeongguk into oversensitivity but all he could do was whimper and whine and fucking take it like the good boy he is. 

It felt as if it continued for hours, the relentless stimulation on his prostate, the slick touches to his still hard though tired yet enthusiastically twitching cock.

Then all at once, all four tentacles started to swell and that sent Jeongguk into another orgasm, much less intense but equally as mind numbing as the last.

He was barely coherent enough to notice the sudden slick exploding all over his body, over his forearms, over his crotch and dick to merge with his own cum, in his ass at such a quantity that it was already trying to escape past the tentacle. 

“Fuck, such a good little doll for me,” The stranger panted, showing the first and only sign of the whole ordeal that he was at all affected by everything that had happened.

He was breathing heavily and slumped forward a little, something thick and shimmering spilling from his mouth. Jeongguk wanted to taste it, of fucking course he wanted to taste it. It’s Jeon Jeongguk.

The man seemed to understand the whimper that pierced the gap between them and stepped forward to slide their lips together.

Jeongguk didn’t know what exactly the stuff was, if it was some of that tentacle lube or monster cum that spilled from the tentacle in the man’s mouth, but whatever it was, it was fucking delicious and Jeongguk never wanted to stop sucking at the tongue that had returned. 

Wasting a drop of the thick liquid was utter blasphemy to the monster fucker.

The man didn’t seem to mind at all, just stuck his tongue out and allowed the human to inhale every single drop from it, followed by his lips until there was nothing left.

Jeongguk whined pitifully.

“There’s plenty left, don’t worry,” The man informed, motioning downwards between their bodies. 

So Jeongguk lowered his head and found more of the shimmering slick covering his soft cock and the tentacle supporting it. 

“Want it, little one?” 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk nodded. 

A shudder travelled through his body as the tentacle wrapped around his dick to drag the mix of fluids off of it before lifting to enter his parted mouth. 

The human eagerly swallowed down every glob with little moans and happy hums. 

After that, each of his arms were lifted to his mouth to be licked clean and let go, leaving sticky marks and bruises circling his wrists that Jeongguk hoped wouldn’t heal for at least a week.  

“One more.” Jeongguk commented, throat sore from the fucking it received but he kind of liked it. He really was learning a lot about his kinks in such a short time.

They both looked down to the only tentacle left protruding from the man’s crotch, the others had retreated into his body leaving one single, thick one left, the one that was still snug in his ass. 

“I’ll pull out now, okay?” 

“But the cum,” He whined, shaking his head in argument. “Want it in my ass or mouth. Don’t wanna waste it.” 

“Whatever you want, doll.” The man lowered to a crouch and pulled Jeongguk’s trousers from his ankles, finally giving his legs freedom. But instead of letting the human move, the monster hoisted Jeongguk up into the air, pressing his back harder against the wall and holding him up with two new tentacles that appeared. 

“Fuck, they’re strong?” Jeongguk breathed out in awe, head tipping back against the brick as his fingers knotted in the man’s hair instinctively. 

He mentally added strength to his rapidly growing kink list.

“Should’ve fucked me against the wall like this.” 

His breath hitched and his fingers tightened when he felt a tongue lapping around his rim to clean up the tiny amount of shining cum that had escaped.

Little by little, the pressure in his ass decreased as the tentacle slowly slimmed down to allow the man to catch the dripping slick in his mouth without wasting a drop. 

When his mouth was full, the tentacle plugged Jeongguk’s hole back up and the man got to his feet.

Jeongguk’s back dragged down the brick until he was lower than the man. At the rise of an eyebrow, the human opened his mouth and tipped his head back. 

The monster leaned over him and opened his mouth slowly, feeding his cum to the desperate male.

Jeongguk wanted until the man backed up before closing his mouth, lifting his head and swallowing it down greedily.

“More?” Jeongguk requested, eyes wide with a hint of darkness revealing lust hiding behind the glaze of two orgasms and being fucked dumb.

“There will be none left to take home with you if you eat much more,” 

Yet he still returned to his previous place between Jeongguk’s propped open thighs to suck out a final mouthful to spit into the humans’ mouth.

As Jeongguk swallowed it down, he was gently lowered to the floor and the tentacle in his ass slipped out slowly. He was allowed to at least suck it clean before it retreated and the monster’s crotch looked like any other human crotch with a soft dick where it should be. 

The two got themselves into a presentable state; dicks tucked away and clothes straightened. And well, Jeongguk’s makeup was smudged and he had glittering stains all over his shirt but he couldn’t do a thing about either of those so he just shrugged and didn’t even bother trying to clean up more.

It was clear he had been fucked and he wasn’t even going to try and hide it. Best fuck of his life.

“Can you walk?” The stranger asked, eyeing Jeongguk carefully, as if he was ready to jump forward and catch the human if he fell. How sweet. 

“Will you carry me if I say no?” Jeongguk suggested, partly cheeky, partly suggestive which only made the man laugh amusedly.

“Come on, your friends must be worried.” He offered his hand.

Jeongguk took it and pushed himself away from the wall. His legs felt like fucking jelly and his ass wet. 

Forget what he said earlier about the making out and handjob feeling like heaven, this was heaven for the human, utter bliss. 

He stopped in his steps and gave the stranger a cute pleading look. 

“You seriously want me to carry you?” 

“If it means you’ll take me home and fuck me full again, yes because I’m already leaking.” 

“Do you often fuck strangers in dirty alleys and then take them home?” 

“No but I’ll make a habit out of it if they all have tentacles.” 

“I definitely picked the right human.” He pulled the human closer only to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

“Luckily for both of us, I only live around the corner.” 

🐙

A/N- Part of me wants to apologise for this shit show but mostly I don’t because it amused me.  Apparently I’m not good at writing serious smut anymore though, who knew  ~Chee

[taeken-my-heart]

Revenant Finale

Summary: You’d always been told that when you died that you’d walk into the light towards Heaven. Only problem is, you died and the light never showed up. Now you’re attached to a handsome but grumpy and sleep deprived medical student and neither one of you knows what to do to get you to finally cross over.

Rating: PG15

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, Ghost!au, MedicalStudent!Namjoon

Word Count: 6538

Warnings: Mentions of a seizure, though nothing is graphically described.

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The majority of the next two weeks went by mostly uneventfully. You spent the larger part of your time split between watching Namjoon work at the hospital or in class. Sometimes, when your family could spare an hour, you’d spend time with them in your room; listening as they spoke to your comatose body.

Cora was often with your mom when she came to visit, touching everything in your room that interested her before coming back to stand at your bedside. On occasion, she’d stay in daycare and you’d get your mom to yourself. She told you about everything going on in the world and it was a bizarre mixture of comfort and anguish. Things were changing without you while you laid in that bed waiting to wake up. Time truly waited for no one. It was strange to think that one moment you were here and the next you were gone and the majority of the world wouldn’t change even a little because of it.

On this particular morning, your family had yet to come see you. You lounged on the couch across the room from where Namjoon was taking the vitals of your body and watched him work. You felt suddenly sleepy, like a dream was dragging you in and you felt your body clench tight before slumping over on the couch. The noise of the room, a blaring alarm, it all sunk into clouds of nothing.

Opening your eyes, the ceiling of your hospital room quickly came back into focus and you took a deep breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, you could feel something more than just gentle pressure. Your whole body felt like it had been tensed for hours; you were sore and out of breath and you watched zombie like as Namjoon quickly exited the room.

The room was filled with nurses, Dr. Bang standing over your body and you watched as everyone took a collective sigh of relief. What had happened? Why did everything feel so sore and where had Namjoon gone?

There was a tingle that spread through your whole body, similar to when your foot falls asleep and you winced, flexing your fingers as they stung. When the pain had subsided and you’d caught your breath, you stood from the chair to look for Namjoon. As you stepped into the hallway you suddenly found yourself standing in the disabled bathroom. Frowning, you looked down to find Namjoon huddled in the corner, face buried in his folded arms. His shoulders shook and you paused in surprise.

“Are you OK?” You asked softly.

Namjoon jumped, gaze darting up to you. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy and your heart ached for him. You went to sit beside him, wishing more than anything that you could wipe the tears from his face.

“I should be the one asking you that.” He groaned, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry. I just- I don’t know why you’re attached to me, I don’t know how to help you.” His bottom lip quivered as he stared down at his shoes, tucked underneath him on the cold linoleum floor.

“I want so badly to help,” he continued, looking back at you, “I want to be able to make things better, but I don’t know what I’m doing and that…that was terrifying. I thought that I’d lost you.” He reached his hand forward to stroke against your cheek and for a moment you nearly jumped at the contact.

It felt so real, like you were actually sitting in front of him, two normal people, and you could feel everything as though you weren’t somewhere floating between life and death. It was euphoric.

He seemed to be having the same thoughts as he watched, transfixed, as his thumb stroked across your cheek and down towards your mouth. “We, I mean.” He whispered, “I thought we’d lost you.”

“What happened?” You asked and he looked at you in confusion.

“You don’t remember? You were staring right at me.” When you shook your head no, he continued. “You had a seizure. I called a code blue and everything just happened so fast. It looked like both your body and you were having a seizure. It was awful. I was so scared. I really don’t know how I’m supposed to help you.” He repeated.

“It’s ok.” You said softly, leaning into the contact of his hand on your face. You craved the affection, the way his thumb lit nerve endings across your face. It was electric; he was electric. “Just having someone who can see me…someone who knows I’m still around and is willing to fight to get me back. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“I wish I could do more.” He bemoaned and you smiled. “I want to make it all better.”

“You’re going to make such an excellent doctor.” You sighed, reaching up to grab his hand. “I’m glad you’re taking care of me; I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

Namjoon flushed, dropping his hand into his lap but you kept your fingers tangled with his, squeezing gently. You wondered if he could feel you as strongly as you could feel him. “Not even Hoseok?” He teased.

You could see the apprehension in his gaze as he asked it and you grinned, shaking your head. “Nope, not even Hoseok. Only you.”

You reached out to wipe the tears from his face, watching in amazement as they disappeared with the swipe of your fingers. You wondered what was going on with your body right now; why you were suddenly so present.

Standing, you motioned for Namjoon to stand up as well. He stood, going to splash some water on his face before grabbing a paper towel to dry off. “Let’s get you back to work.” You hummed, moving towards the door. “Somehow, things will all work out. Don’t you think?”

He moved towards you, staring down into your face, eyes still slightly red but dimples on display as he smiled. “They better.”

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Around three in the afternoon, your family came. Cora was dressed in the cute yellow dress you remembered agonizing over. It was too expensive but you wanted her to have something that made her feel like a princess. In the end, your mom had paid for it and then it had taken 3 days to convince Cora to take it off after trying it on so you could wash it.

“We rushed over as soon as we were able.” Your mom said and you watched as her eyes filled with tears, “she had a seizure? What happened?”

“We’re not really sure at this point in time,” Dr. Bang started, “it’s not typical for someone to have a seizure this far along into their recovery. We’re doing more tests to make sure everything is functioning properly; with special attention to her brain. So far, though, she seems to have actually improved. Every test we’ve run has come back very positive. It’s extremely encouraging.”

Your mother flopped in the chair beside your bed, relief washing over her features and you watched as your brother Luke went to go squeeze her shoulder. Your dad and Ethan both stood with Dr. Bang as he gave more information, but your attention was captured by Cora as she attempted to climb on your bed.

You grinned as your mother fussed over her, pulling her back into her lap while Cora pouted. Normally, your daughter was fairly fussy with what she wanted. It seemed like you being here in this bed had subdued her somehow. You missed your feisty girl.

They spent the afternoon fussing over your hair, straightening your bedding and putting new, fluffed pillows under your head. You smiled at the attention, their love warming you from the inside out.

You couldn’t wait to give them all hugs again.

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The apartment was quiet once more. Namjoon flipped on the lights in the hallway, illuminating it in low florescence as he slowly removed his shoes. He was weary this evening, you could almost see his thoughts racing through his mind as he leaned against the wall, kicking his final shoe into the shoe bin by the door.

He stood, sluggish, and moved towards the living room to sit on the couch. “I guess I broke a cardinal rule today.” He sighed. You came to sit beside him, brows furrowed in your confusion.

“What rules?”

“The unwritten one that says to not get too attached to your patients.” He looked over at you with a sad smile. You felt your chest clench but you weren’t sure if it was good or bad. Admitting to being attached sounded nice…but he said it like it was a bad thing. “I thought we were gonna lose you today and I felt like I was losing a piece of myself with you.” He admitted.

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked carefully.

His head dropped onto the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess it depends on how you choose to see it. It’s got its good and its bad. I can’t fall apart every time I lose someone as a doctor, and it’s bound to happen. I know it sounds callous to people on the outside, but you have to separate yourself from the tragedy somehow or it will chew you up and spit you out.”

“You haven’t lost me, though.” You pointed out softly and his answering smile was grim.

“But have I ever really had you?” You couldn’t say anything to that because the truth is, you didn’t really know the answer. “At first, we thought you were dead. Then we find out you’re actually in a coma, which could be good or bad depending on if you wake up. If you do wake up, will you even remember me? All this? We’re banking on a whole lot of what ifs.”

You paused, rubbing your lips together before finally releasing your thoughts. “You sound as though you’re thinking of something more beyond me just waking up and being with my family again.”

He looked over at you, eyes scanning the planes of your face before speaking. “Did I read things wrong?” He whispered. “I thought there was potential for something more…between us. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, you didn’t read it wrong.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, burrowing into his neck. You could smell his cologne, sharp and woodsy and you inhaled deeply. “But what about Eunae?”

Your head rose as he shrugged. “What about her?”

“Haven’t you been wanting to take her out? I mean, let’s be honest, I’m half way between alive and dead. I’m not exactly a catch right now. Even if I wake up…I have a daughter. Eunae doesn’t have baggage like me.”

Namjoon scoffed. “Everyone has baggage, Y/N. You wanna know my baggage? The real reason I haven’t asked Eunae out, I mean.”

You sat up fully, angling your body to face him and you nodded. “Lay it on me.”

He smiled before sighing. “Because I’m scared,” he said. “Not of Eunae or commitment but I’m scared of being left behind. My mom left my family when I was 7. Got home from school one day and all her stuff was just…gone. No note, no explanation. My mom was the happiest person in the world; if she was suffering in any way, you’d never know. I guess that’s what made it so easy for her to leave and have everyone reeling.”

“I’m so afraid that I could give my entire world to someone, like my dad did, and they could just take it all away from me. You build a beautiful life with someone, get married, have children, and then suddenly they’re just…gone. So, there you go. I’ve got mommy issues.” He laughed; short and humorless, twisting the ring on his finger in circles.

It would be a lie if you said you weren’t surprised, because you certainly were. Namjoon seemed so put together, like he had no problems in the world. It was a good reminder to not judge a book by its cover because you just never knew what was under the surface.

“I’ve got ex-boyfriend issues.” You finally said with a grin and he smiled. “It’s like you said, we’ve all got our baggage. Let’s not worry about things right now, we’ll face things as they come. First, though, I need to wake up.”

Namjoon chuckled, nodding. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way?” You asked and he looked down at his watch.

“Yeah, actually. I’m gonna order some take out. I’m feeling pizza.”

“If you put pineapples on it, I’ll judge you.”

Namjoon grimaced. “I’m not a monster."

.

.

Namjoon yawned loudly, stretched across the couch lethargically. Jin and Jimin had arrived shortly before the pizza and they’d brought company with them. Taehyung and Jungkook were as good looking as you remembered, Taehyung stretched like a cat across the carpet while Jungkook nursed his lukewarm beer.

It had been hours since the hospital; since the scare of the morning, and being with this group, though most didn’t know you were even there, made you feel like you’d been missing something all your life. Because of Tim (your ex,) you’d become rather isolated friend wise. There were a few work acquaintances and a couple friendly regulars at the bar, but it wasn’t the same as having a solid group of people to call your own.

You’d given up a lot of yourself to be with Tim and then in turn to be a mother. You wondered if being a part of a group like this was still attainable. Between work and spending time with Cora, having friends just seemed like an impossible dream. The first thing you needed to do when you woke up was to find a new job. You couldn’t keep going on acting like these sort of relationships weren’t important.

Namjoon yawned again, standing and stretching. “I gotta get to bed. I’ve got clinicals again tomorrow and I’m barely functioning as is.”

“Night!” Taehyung called from the floor, eyes blinking slowly up at him, looking more cat like and regal than before. Namjoon said his goodnights before looking over at you and inclining his head slightly towards the hallway. You moved from your spot in the living room and followed him down the hall towards his room. He shut the door after the two of you, clearing his throat and you watched him curiously.

“I was wondering,” He idled, scratching the back of his neck. “Would it be weird if I asked you to stay with me…in here? I know you don’t sleep right now but, it would make me feel better to have you closer. No pressure, of course! I was just wondering.”

His words tapered off in his embarrassment and you smiled. “Which side?” You asked.

He grinned, pointing to the right and you moved towards the mattress, sitting down and patting his side of the bed. “Come on then.” You hummed. He chuckled, cheeks pinker than before.

“I need to change and brush my teeth.”

“I’ll be here.” You nodded, moving to lay down against the bed.

He returned not long after, dressed in pajamas and smelling minty. He grabbed the covers that had been squished down towards the end of the mattress and pulled them up and over your shoulders. Burying himself the same, he stared over at you and you watched him pull the blankets to his chin.

“Thanks for humoring me.” He muttered softly.

“I’m not humoring you; I want to. It’s nice to be here with you, to feel normal again.”

He scooted a little closer, reaching his hand out carefully to touch your arm. You could feel it as though your body was really here, lying with him in this bed. So real, so intense.

“It’s like you’re really here.” He whispered, running the tips of his fingers gently down your arm and watching the goosebumps left in his wake. “Not in that hospital bed.” You shivered.

“Yeah.”

He tucked his chin into his chest, clearing his throat once again. “Uh…I like to cuddle at night, is…is that ok?”

You chuckled, nodding and his hand slid carefully around your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth of his chest through your fingertips and you tried not to let your emotions show.

“Goodnight.” You whispered.

His fingers dancing across your spine was his reply as he closed his eyes, drifting quickly to sleep.

.

.

It was still dark when the bird’s started chirping; happy and bright like they knew the sunrise was on its way. Namjoon’s alarm hadn’t gone yet, but his body had woken as though on instinct. His bed felt empty, the room absent as well and he sat up suddenly.

“Y/N?” He called, stepping from his bed and into his slippers. There was no reply and he opened the door to his room, moving down the hallway and into the living room. The empty beer bottles and pizza boxes from last night were still laying on the coffee table, but otherwise, the room was deserted.

Namjoon’s heart lurched uncomfortably in his chest. “Y/N?” He whispered. Still no answer.

Where were you? You’d been practically attached to his hip the last few weeks, but where were you now? What if you had died during the night? He hadn’t prepared himself for a situation like that and he felt suddenly nauseous. Rushing back to his room, he quickly showered before dressing and running from the apartment. He was in such a hurry he nearly left his bag.

The subway was even emptier this time of morning. He’d left earlier than normal, but fear was controlling his limbs right now and he could hardly sit still; knee bouncing loudly in the empty carriage.

What if he got there and you’d died? Been moved to the morgue? Bile rose in his throat and he closed his eyes, willing the thought away. He couldn’t handle this right now, he’d deal with it later if it came to it. Maybe you were just attached to your body in the hospital room now. Stranger things had happened, right? Seeing ghosts in the first place definitely fit that bill.

When the subway arrived at his station, he rushed from the train and up the stairs out into the morning. Birds were chirping louder now as the sun was starting to rise. Namjoon didn’t even stop to drop his things off in his locker, he walked as quickly as was acceptable to the room he knew was yours.

Rounding the corner, his body sagged with relief to see your body still laying in the bed. He moved closer slowly, watching your chest rise and fall and he thought he’d throw up all over again from the emotions rushing through him. Still, he didn’t see your ghost standing anywhere around and he ached to know what had happened; where you had gone. He moved closer still, standing over your bed and reaching out carefully to run his hand over your forehead.

His heart nearly dropped as your eyes fluttered open, darting around the room before settling on him. You smiled and he felt like his whole body was melting into the floor.

“You’re here.” You whispered.

“You remember?” He asked, eyes stinging.

You nodded. “Everything.”

Namjoon choked back a sob, the stinging behind his eyes leaving tracks down his cheeks as he bent forward, hugging you close. “I thought you’d died.”

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you said, running your fingers through his dark hair. His tears wet through to the skin of your shoulder. “I felt a tug, though, the sort you can’t ignore, and then I was back here in my body. I knew you’d come.”

He pulled back to look at you, smiling and you pulled his face down towards yours, kissing him softly. “Thank you for helping me.” You whispered against his mouth and he kissed you again before pulling away.

“I didn’t do anything.” He huffed, but you shook your head to dispute.

“You saw me. You have no idea how much I wanted to be seen.”

You hoped he knew what you really meant.

You had the feeling he did.

“Thank you for not hating me after I was so rude to you at first.” He smiled shyly.

You chuckled, running your fingers down his cheek. “Well, I was a trespassing ghost.” Namjoon’s stomach growled loudly and you looked down before back up at him. “Have you eaten?”

He flushed, shaking his head no. “I was so worried you’d died; I couldn’t think of anything else.”

You glanced up at the clock and then back at him. “There’s still an hour before your clinicals start. Go now and get some breakfast from the cafeteria.” He looked like he meant to refuse you and you smiled, kissing him once more. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He grumbled but stood, shaking his hair through with his fingers and nodded. “I’ll ask the doctor if I can call your family with the news. I really want to be the one to do it.”

“I want that too.” You grinned.

.

.

Once the sun had fully risen and you’d been fed, Dr. Bang entered the room, smiling bright. “We sure are happy to see you awake. You gave us a scare the other morning.”

You sent Namjoon a private smile before answering, “Yes, I heard thanks to Mr. Kim.”

“Namjoon will make an excellent Doctor someday.” Dr. Bang smiled, “you’ve been in very good hands.”

The next few minutes you spent with Dr. Bang as he explained your progress to you so far and Namjoon stepped out of the room to call your family. They still weren’t sure why you’d had a seizure and you wondered absently if somehow it had woken you up, but thankfully all scans and bloodwork had come back normal since then.

Both Namjoon and Dr. Bang had to return to work, with promises to return when your family came. Suddenly, you were left to your own thoughts. You’d been in a coma for just over a month so you really hadn’t missed much of the world, especially since your spirit or ghost or whatever you had been, had been wandering around seeing and hearing things.

Mostly, you’d missed out on time with your family. Your daughter. You couldn’t wait to hold her in your arms. You wondered if you’d have to testify at Tim’s trial. Most likely. You were alive and well, but he had intended anything but and you needed to make sure he never had the opportunity again.

When your family finally arrived, Namjoon stayed close by your side, explaining to them what had been going on with your care as you cuddled Cora in your arms. She talked happily about her upcoming show-and-tell at daycare and you discussed all the things she thought maybe she could take with her.

Your brother Ethan owned a snake that your daughter was a little bit obsessed with and you were mildly afraid he’d actually let her take it with her to show off. Ethan and Luke were both “cool” uncles, giving Cora anything she wanted and sometimes you questioned their motivations. You had the feeling they were both vying for the position of favorite uncle.

Come lunch time, after your family had left and you’d eaten, you laid back in your bed, staring out the window as a bird soared passed and landed on the branch of a nearby tree.

“How are you feeling?”

You turned to see Namjoon standing by the door and you smiled. “Good. Tired, but really good.”

“Do you have enough energy to see one more guest?” He asked, and you frowned. Another guest? But who?

He motioned for someone to come in and you smiled brightly as a familiar handsome man in a leather jacket entered. “Jimin!”

Jimin laughed, scratching at the back of his neck. “This is weird,” he admitted with a grin. “I know we technically met but, you know.” He shrugged and you laughed.

“But you couldn’t see me. Well now you can; how’s it feel?”

“Surreal.” He admitted, walking to the side of your bed. “You said my name with so much confidence and I’ve never seen your face before. It’s like meeting someone you’ve met before and forgetting their name. I’m a little embarrassed.” “I’m truly offended.” You nodded resolutely and he grinned, taking the seat beside your bed.

“What are you going to do now? Back in the world of the living, everyone can see you. It must feel like a new lease on life.”

You smiled, twisting the sheets over your lap between your fingers. “I’m gonna find a new job. I’ve got two right now that make me feel like I have barely anytime to breathe, let alone feel human again. I want a change of pace.”

“They’re hiring receptionists here, you know.” Namjoon said suddenly. “Not yet, I mean, but I know a few of the current receptionists are going back to school and planning on putting in their two weeks. Maybe I could put in a good word. Hours are decent and pay is good.

” “Thank you, Namjoon. I’d appreciate that.”

.

.

~ 1 year later ~

“I don’t want to wear pants!” Cora complained loudly and you sighed, rubbing your eyes.

“Honey, I told you before, we’re moving boxes today; a dress just isn’t practical.”

Cora stomped across the room, sitting down on the couch between boxes. She was wearing the frilly pink dress you’d bought for her just last week and looking like a little pouting princess. Goodness, if she weren’t your kid…

“I hate pacticyool.” She frowned and you chuckled, moving to stoop in front of her.

“It’s practical, and that just means that it will be hard to do things in your beautiful new dress. We’re gonna be getting dirty. Do you really want your beautiful princess dress to be covered in dirt and maybe even get ripped?”

Cora huffed, kicking her feet forward slightly in a miniature tantrum before letting her folded arms fall to her sides. “I don’t want it to get broken.” She admitted and you stood, reaching out your hand for her.

“Then let’s change quickly. Namjoon and Jimin will be here soon.”

“What about uncle Taehyungie? He promised to bring me a ring when he got back.”

You smiled, hoisting her to her feet and helping her maneuver through the boxes back to her nearly empty room. One box left open with a small t-shirt and some jeans on top, you helped her to unzip the back of her dress.

“Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jin will be waiting at our new apartment for us. I’m sure they’re all really excited to see you!”

This cheered her up and she quickly helped you to drag her t-shirt over her head, insisting she could do it herself like the independent little stinker she was. After getting her into a pair of socks and taping the last box with her pink dress safely inside, you stared out back over the tiny, dingy little apartment one more time.

It was a piece of crap, honestly, but it had been your piece of crap since Cora was only a baby. You’d had a lot of really amazing memories here and a couple of not so amazing memories too. It was bitter sweet to say goodbye.

A knock at the door roused your attention and you went to open, beckoning both Namjoon and Jimin inside excitedly. “Good morning!” You cried as you shut the door behind you. “Did you bring your muscles?”

“And then some.” Jimin flirted, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you laughed. Namjoon smacked his shoulder, going to reach for your waist before pausing.

Cora had come back into the living room just then, curly, red haired ragdoll clamped in her little arms and she beamed widely as she saw the two new additions to your party. She didn’t know about Namjoon and you yet, you’d been afraid to introduce her to someone that might not be a more permanent fixture in your life until you were positive.

Now…well, the small rock on your finger made you feel safe, but with “uncle” Jimin in the room, now was not the time to tell her. “Namjoon! Uncle Jimin!” She shouted happily, bouncing towards them and into their arms.

Your heart soared as she clung tightly to Namjoon’s neck and he rubbed his hand up and down her back. You couldn’t have asked for a better man to raise your daughter with you. Couldn’t believe he was so willing to step up to the plate.

You ushered everyone to start grabbing things before you got misty eyed and the four of you spent the next ten minutes moving boxes into the moving truck. Namjoon and the guys had helped last night too, after Cora had gone to sleep, so there wasn’t much to move now, but you’d insisted on leaving a few of the light one’s so she could feel like a “big girl helper.”

After everything was packed up, the four of you squished into the cab of the moving truck and started the journey to the other side of the town, closer to your new job. Namjoon had kept his word and had helped you to get a job at the hospital.

Your first paycheck had nearly made your eyes bug out of your skull and you’d definitely cried as your skimpy looking bank account had sagged with its weight.

 You were by no mean’s rich, but you felt like you were these days.

.

.

The apartment complex was newer construction. White stucco and tree lined streets greeted you as you arrived. Namjoon had gone apartment hunting with you at your insistence. Once you told Cora about the two of you (and mitigated any potential problems or confusion,) you intended for him to move in with the two of you. You wanted him to like the place.

Jin had groaned about finding a new roommate, complained loudly about the hassle and Jimin had rolled his eyes, whispering that they’d actually already gotten someone; Seokjin was just a drama lover and wanted a rise. He’d been disappointed not to get one, but you’d just laughed.

Cora was overjoyed to see Taehyung as you pulled up along the curb, practically leaping into his arms once he’d unbuckled her. You followed after her, Jungkook holding out a hand for you to take as you stepped down and you thanked him.

Taehyung let the rest of you grab a box while he carried Cora up to the 16th floor (on the elevator, of course. He wasn’t a martyr.) Jin complained about Tae being a slacker and you grinned, sliding the key into your door, pushing it open and stepping inside.

“Wow, nice digs!” Jungkook complimented, walking into the open floor plan main room, across the linoleum floors and to the window. “You’ve got a balcony?” He cried suddenly, twisting the lock. “What luxury is this?”

You laughed, placing your box on the kitchen counter and moving to stand on the balcony with him. “Nice right? Not much of a view, really, but it’s not a brick wall either, so we’re really moving up in the world.”

Namjoon laughed from behind you, hugging you around the waist and you glanced over your shoulder to see Cora occupied with Taehyung at the countertop. She was opening a small sparkly purple box that you assumed was her new ring and you grinned before cuddling further into Namjoon’s chest.

“We don’t have balconies in student housing.” Jungkook complained.

“Someday, man.” Namjoon said, standing and patting him on the shoulder.

“Mommy!” Cora squealed and you could hear her bare feet slapping across the linoleum as she ran to you. You turned and bent down to look as she held her fist in the air. “I’ve got a ring like you now!”

You smiled, staring down at the giant pink ring, lopsided on her finger from being slightly too big. “So you do!” you cried happily as she jumped around, thrusting her fist in everyone’s face for them to have a look.

After an appropriate amount of time spent praising Cora’s new ring, you all returned to the truck to grab more boxes. After 10 minutes, Cora began to complain about being tired so Taehyung took her back up to the apartment to keep her occupied while the rest of you finished the job.

You ordered takeout that would hopefully arrive right around when you were finished in the truck and spent the next 20 minutes daydreaming about cream cheese filled rangoons. You were famished by the time the food had arrived (and thrilled into a small victory dance due to a working doorbell.)

Everyone sat down on the living room floor, Cora with a pillow underneath her, and you all chatted late into the afternoon. Early evening came and everyone said their goodbyes, only Namjoon staying for dinner.

You made spaghetti, Cora’s favorite, and Namjoon helped her to find the box full of her stuffed animals. You’d all managed to set up the large furniture before the others had, had to leave, so at least there were beds and seating. You’d spend most of your day off tomorrow unpacking while Cora was at her grandparent’s house.

“Dinner’s ready!” You called, setting plates and forks down on the table. “Cora, baby, do you want juice or water?”

“Water, please.” She requested, crawling up into the dining chair and grabbing her fork. She dug in messily and you watched as she slurped spaghetti messily up and over her chin. Oh well, she was getting a bath anyway.

After grabbing waters, you sat in your own seat, smiling over at Namjoon as he waited for you to eat. You took a bite of your food, staring down at your daughter as she waved her head back and forth over her plate, staring down at the noodle hanging from her mouth and wiggling like a worm.

“Cora, honey.” She looked up at you, eyes wide as though you would scold her and she slurped the noodle noisily into her mouth.

“Yes?” She questioned softly.

You looked over at Namjoon before continuing. Now was as good a time as any, you supposed. “What would you think if Namjoon came to live with us too?”

“Oh.” She said, looking over at him, taking in his features pensively. “That would be cool. He doesn’t have a bedroom, though. Where will he sleep mommy?”

“Well,” you started, but she interrupted quickly, ideas sprouting quickly in her little mind.

“We’ve got a couch!” She supplied, “Or, mommy says we have sleeping bags too.”

You chuckled, continuing on carefully. “Actually, mommy and Namjoon were thinking about getting married. What do you think about that? Would that be nice?”

“Married?” She mumbled, testing the word in her mouth. “Is that when mommy’s get babies?”

Namjoon choked on his sip of water and you giggled nervously. “Well, sometimes honey.”

“Mommy said she can only get a baby if there’s a daddy.” Cora replied matter of fact. “You can be a daddy, right?”

Namjoon patted at his mouth and the dribble of water in front of him on the table with his napkin before continuing. “Yes, someday I would like to be a daddy.”

Cora shrugged, going back to her spaghetti. “I think it sounds fun.” She replied, slurping another noodle into her mouth. “My daddy had to go somewhere right now, but maybe you can be my new daddy. Will you give me a sister? I really want a sister.”

Namjoon grinned over at you and then back at her. “I’ll definitely try my best to give you a sister.”

He chuckled as you smacked at his arm but Cora continued on. “When will you get married? I would like to have a sister soon, please.”

You reached across the table to pat at her mouth with your napkin. “Well, we haven’t decided when exactly we’ll get married, but soon. Maybe next year.”

“That’s forever away!” Cora complained. She turned to look at Namjoon. “Will you move in tonight?”

He smiled, rubbing at the back of her head. “Not tonight, but really soon. I don’t have any of my things to move in yet. Are you happy that mommy and I want to get married?”

Cora nodded, grabbing a fork way too full of noodles and attempting to shove them all in her mouth at the same time. “I think it’s cool.” She slurred sloppily around her mouthful. To un-trained ears, it sounded like a whole lot of noise and nothing else, but thankfully you were accustomed to her speech patterns.

You grimaced. “Babe, finish your mouthful before speaking, please.”

.

.

After Cora was tucked into bed and had finally fallen asleep, both Namjoon and you turned the TV on low and sat back on the couch. “Thank you for cleaning up.” You said softly and he smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and kissing you softly.

“Happy to help.” He whispered back. “So, Cora seems happy.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “I’m glad. I was afraid…not that I had any reason to be; she loves you. Still, I want my two favorite people to get along.”

Namjoon reached for your hand, fiddling with the ring on your finger absentmindedly. “I’ll admit I was nervous too. Didn’t know what I would have done if she’d been upset. Turns out, all she was really concerned about was getting a baby sister.”

“Which you promised her.” You chuckled and he grinned, shrugging.

“I’ll at least enjoy trying to fulfill that promise.” He grinned wolfishly and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Well, actually, about that…” you trailed off, reaching for your purse and pulling something from it to hand to him.

He gaped down at the pregnancy test in his hands, mouth flapping uselessly as he grappled for words. “Really?” He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Really.” You nodded as he looked back down at the pregnancy test. “I took it last night…so, did you have fun trying?” You teased.

He laughed, looking down at you as his eyes darkened. “I did. Hey, you in the mood to roleplay?” He mused.

“What did you have in mind?” You grinned as he tucked his face into your neck, kissing along the edge of your jaw.

“How about some good old fashioned baby making?” He teased and you grinned.

You pulled his head up to hover over yours, staring into his eyes. “Are you OK with this? It wasn’t planned, but are you happy?”

His features softened, smile settling into a gentle simmer. “I couldn’t be happier.” He murmured, kissing you deeply.

You hummed against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Take me to the bedroom, Mr. Kim.”

“With pleasure.” He grinned.

.

.

Thank you so much for going on this journey with me and being so patient! I decided to combine the last two chapters together. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think! <3

Copyright © 2019 by Taeken-My-Heart. All rights reserved.

[biletdoux]

x marks the spot | x.dj

Member | xiaojun (nct) + gender neutral!reader Rating | g Genre + Tropes | childhood friends to lovers!au, idol!xiaojun, romance (fluff) Warning(s) | none, unless you consider badly written fluff something to be wary of lol Length | 5.1k+ Prompts | “Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you.” - Mariah Carey (All I Want for Christmas is You) + “I should be playin’ in the winter snow, I’ma be here under the mistletoe.” - Justin Bieber (Mistletoe) Playlist | All I Want for Christmas is You - Mariah Carey // Mistletoe - Justin Bieber  // My Everything - NCT U

Summary | You were five years old when you met your best friend.

(Or; the cycle of waiting and wanting between you and Xiaojun throughout the years.)

Note: For the Walking in a Winter Wonderland Collab hosted by @suh-insane​ and @neocitybynight​! Merry Christmas and have a happy holiday season, everyone <333 let me know what you think!

yo,,, fluff is so hard to write, so mad respect to all the fluff writers out there. 

“Hey—”

You were five years old and had a knack for stating the obvious.

“You’re not Chengxiao!” Your voice was loud and annoying, the shrill ring of it reverberated throughout the open roof. Your index finger, straight and stern, was aimed right at his face in accusation, as if it was a sin to not adhere to your expectations. “Chengxiao was supposed to be here, not you!”

The boy who was indeed not Chengxiao, as you so clearly pointed out, sniffled even louder as he clutched at his toy buccaneer sword. All around you, drying linens and laundry swayed gently in the summer breeze to the sound of his soft sniveling, before he broke out into an all out sob.

You were five years old and also insensitive in the way that five year olds were. 

“Uhm,” you faltered, your pointer finger recoiled back just ever so slightly as his cries continued. 

This was not supposed to happen. You were supposed to be playing hide-and-seek with your building friends and maybe grab a popsicle down the street later once you all tired out. You lost the rock-paper-scissors between everyone and had to be the first seeker. You counted all the way to 100 without even peeking once, even though you were tempted many times when you heard the occasional giggle and scattered footsteps.

Chunyang was always the easiest to find between the three of you. He was also five like you and he always hid on the sixth floor of your shared building, usually behind the large potted plants near the stairway. You actually found him behind the leaky plumbing pipes at the end of the hall, but he was still on the sixth floor nonetheless. 

Chengxiao was different. She was seven years old, two whole years older than you and Chunyang, and she was also much smarter than the two of you. It was always difficult to find Chengxiao because she was more tricky and clever than your one-track minded five year old brain. 

When you found Chunyang, the two of you agreed to split up and search for Chengxiao separately, the first one to find her gets the ultimate bragging rights for the rest of their life. When you shook on the deal, Chunyang immediately took off for the stairs, clumsily bounding down the steps with as much grace as a five year old could muster, which left you with only one option remaining; climbing the flight of stairs to the roof. 

The roof was large and vast, filled with a sea of linen and mismatched laundry drying in the wind. The sun was at its peak in the sky as you started your searching, scouring near and wide for Chengxiao. When you nearly lost hope, you noticed a pair of white sneakers belonging to a person hidden behind a billowing bed sheet. You rushed toward it with all your might, already tasting how a sweet a lifetime of bragging to Chunyang would taste on your lips, but as soon as you yanked back the cloth, your mouth immediately turned sour at the sight of a boy with brown hair and teary eyes. 

Your tone was harsher than you intended, so here you were stuck with a blubbering boy and your lifetime bragging rights out the window. 

“Hey,” you tried again. You were five years old and not very good at comforting people. “My mom says children who cry won’t get any candy until they stop.” 

Unsurprisingly, his cries did not cease and you were scandalized by it. The possibility of no candy left you in shock and awe, so why wasn’t he feeling the same as you?

“Who, hic, cares about candy, hic,” he started, every few words out of his mouth was staccatoed by an uncontrollable hiccup.  “If I can’t see, hic, my friends!” 

“Huh?” you tilted your head to the side. “Why can’t you see your friends anymore?” 

It took a few seconds of blubbered hiccups before the boy answered, “cause we moved far away from them!”

You absorbed his words in quiet consideration. How would candy taste if you had to move away from Chengxiao and Chunyang? Not very good, but… 

“Why don’t you make new friends?” 

“I don’t want new friends! I want, hic, to go back to my old home!��� Indignant, he lashed back. “I want to go back, hic, and play pirates with my old friends.” 

“I’ll play pirates with you,” you offered. You didn’t think much about the rest of the words that escaped your mouth either. “I’ll be your friend. I want to be your friend.”

The boy was significantly calmer after shouting out his frustrations. He wiped at his tears and for the first time you had a good look at his brown eyes. You didn’t know it at the time, but the boy, like you, was also five years old, and five year olds calmed down as easily as they lost their temper.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, tone soft and quiet. “Would you really, hic, be my friend?” 

Your smile was brighter than the summer sun that day. “Yeah, of course!”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Yeah, and I can also show you my friends right now too. We’re playing hide-and-seek.” You grabbed his free hand, the one not holding the toy sword, as you tugged him to get off the roof. He followed obediently without a word. 

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked over your shoulders, your voice ringing through the roof.

“My name is Xiao Dejun.”

You were five years old when you met your best friend. 

--

The air was crisp with the sharp, but refreshing sting of sea salt as the waves crashed onto the side of your ship. You climbed out onto the main deck to check on the progress of the voyage. The waters were steady and your trusty sea vessel rocked to the rhythm of the ocean. There were no clouds in the sky this far out into the sea and the sunlight blinded your eyes, but you didn’t need to see it to know that the treasure was straight ahead. You took another deep breath to savor the thought of future riches before you turned around to go look for your first mate. 

You traveled the expanse of the main deck before reaching the weathered ratlines. The rope felt coarse to the touch as you climbed all the way up to the crow’s nest. Once you made it, there he was, standing and staring out to the wide ocean, probably lost in thought about gold and jewels. 

“First mate Xiaojun.” you called. 

He turned his head and smiled. “Hey, I was waiting for you.”

You fully climb into the crow’s nest and settle beside him. “We’re about to find the secret buried treasure.” 

“Yes, captain,” he nodded his head in agreement.

“What do you want to do with you half?”

“Hm…” Xiaojun was contemplative. “I’ll need to buy another sword. Mine is getting rusty. What about you?”

“I would like to—”

“Class! Recess is over.” Your teacher, Mrs. Huang, interrupted you before you could finish. “It’s time to head back now.” 

And suddenly your trusty sea vessel was no longer a ship, but actually a small corner of the large school playground. The tethered and hardened ratlines melted away to reveal the metal ladders of the play area and the crow’s nest was the slide tower. The sun, however, remained as bright as ever.

Your first mate looked at you and a mischievous glint crossed his eyes. “I’ll race you to the classroom!” He hollered as he threw himself down the slide and took off running as soon as his feet hit the ground. You were not far behind him as you shrieked for him to slow down. 

You were eight years old and you kept your promise to him about playing pirates. 

The two of you became the best of friends shortly after your encounter on the roof. You grew close to him exceptionally fast when you learned he and his family had moved to the same floor as you and your family. Chengxiao and Chunyang liked him well enough and your tight trio grew to accept a fourth corner. 

When school rolled around, you were delighted to find out he was also enrolled in the same school as you and even was in the same class. Since then, the two of you had been inseparable. 

He beat you to the classroom by a few steps and his smile was dazzling as he gloated to your face. You sneered back at him as you watched his fringe stick to his forehead from sweat. 

“I only lost cause you cheated.” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” 

You both sat down in your assigned classroom seating, with him exactly one seat behind you. Mrs. Huang announced it was independent study time, so everyone quietly pulled out their books.

When you pulled out yours, you realized you had broken your pencil and had nothing to write with. You pushed your chair back and leaned over on his desk. 

“Hey Xiaojun, can I borrow a pencil?”

He was still Dejun then, but he was always Xiaojun to you.

He looked annoyed, but went to rummage for his pencil pouch in his backpack anyway. “Don’t call me that unless we’re playing. How many times have I told you to call me Dejun? That’s my name so use it.” 

“But I don’t want to,” you huffed.

“And why is that?” Xiaojun found a suitable pencil and handed it over to you. 

“Because,” you took the writing utensil from his outstretched hand. “You’ll always be my first mate Xiaojun no matter what.” 

You returned back to your desk before you could notice the blush that colored his cheeks and you didn’t turn back to him again for the remainder of the independent study time. You didn’t realize it at the time, but Xiaojun never bothered to correct his name ever since. 

You were eight years old when you became someone special to Xiaojun. 

--

You felt hot and sticky.

Summers in Guangdong were hot and humid in ways that left you gasping for air as if you had been trudging through a thick wall of sludge. The heat was heavy and thick, reminiscent of an unpleasant weighted blanket that wrapped around you at all the wrong times and places. During the summer, the Guangdong sun was angry, and you felt as though its wrath was personal from how intensely the rays would beat down on your back as you hopped from one stall to another. Nonetheless, you were not deterred because you came here on a mission.

You were thirteen years old and wanted to do whatever it took to find your best friend the perfect birthday present. 

You prepared for August 9th tirelessly with impressive care and consideration. You had been casually asking questions and fishing for hints months before the fated date to figure out the most perfect and surefire gift for Xiaojun. When you realized he wanted a new controller for his PlayStation because the ‘X’ on his current one wasn’t working half the times, you knew you had to get him a new one. And so, you started to plan.

Step one was complete. You figured out what Xiaojun wanted, but now step two was in the way. How were you going to get it for him? You were thirteen years old and you had no money. You couldn’t ask your parents for money because then that would mean your parents actually got Xiaojun the present and not you, even though it was your idea. After thinking long and hard, you decided to carefully siphon a small portion of your lunch money each day until you had enough to purchase the controller. Even though the lunch money was from your parents, the money was given to you, so now it’s your money and not your parents’ anymore and you had to work hard to save it, so using this money to buy Xiaojun the gift will be really meaningful.

You were thirteen years old and your logic was a bit off, but your heart was in the right place. 

After months of saving, you finally had enough and couldn’t be happier. You had everything set and just needed to find the time to go out to the electronics store. You were so giddy that you nearly let the big surprise slip one day when you were over at his house. 

It was two days before his birthday and Xiaojun was just at your house yesterday, which meant that today, the two of you would go back to his. Xiaojun’s mother was already used to this and prepared pre-cut slices of fruit for the two of you before the front door even opened. The two of you bowed in thanks before greedily grabbing the plate of fruit before barreling to his room with a large slam of his bedroom door. 

You were laying on his bed munching on an apple slice in your hands and Xiaojun was at his desk on his rolling computer chair with an orange slice in his. Outside of his window, the hustle and bustle of a Guangdong afternoon can be heard, but the noise was far away for you and Xiaojun were in your own quiet little bubble. 

When he finished his orange slice, Xiaojun suddenly perked up. “Hey, you want to see something?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

He stood up and walked over to his closet to grab a box. Inside, he pulled out two new PlayStation controllers, still in the factory wrapping and all, and your heart dropped. 

“My parents got this for my birthday. They gave it to me early cause I did really well on my exams and they knew my current controller sucks,” he explained. “Want to play that new game? It’ll be so nice to finally have a working ‘X’ button.” 

You felt nauseated and suddenly had to go. You were thirteen years old and you were a little dramatic. 

You never gave Xiaojun a proper explanation for leaving so suddenly that day, but you had bigger problems to deal with. What were you going to do now? Step one was now out the window, but at least you still had the money you saved up, so maybe you can still make this work. It would still be okay because you had one full day tomorrow to go out and shop for his gift. Except that when you returned home, your mom informed you that your extra tutoring classes would be doubled tomorrow because your teacher will be out of town and can’t teach for the next few days. Great.

So that’s how you found yourself here, at the local street market standing under the blazing sun in your tutoring school uniform. It was summer break and your parents signed you up for additional morning classes. By the time you were let off, you’d only have an hour to shop for a gift, until it was time to go to Xiaojun’s party. 

Originally, you thought one hour should be more than enough, but as you drifted from one stall to another, you realized no one had anything just right for Xiaojun and you already promised yourself you were going to get something perfect for him, and you didn't break your promises. By the time you found something perfect for him, you didn’t realize 55 minutes had passed. When you checked the time, your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. You were definitely going to be late. You paid the stall lady and barely waited for change as you made a mad dash toward Xiaojun’s apartment.

When you arrived, Xiaojun’s mother greeted you warmly and let you in. “He was waiting for you. He refused to start without you.”

Xiaojun had a small party with only close friends and you were the last to arrive. You felt embarrassed initially, but that was soon forgotten when the party started. 

When it was time to open the presents, Xiaojun saved yours for last, in fact, he didn’t open it until all the guests left and it was only the two of you with his parents cleaning the aftermath of the party in the background. 

He carefully pulled apart the hastily wrapped box and you held your breath in anticipation. He held up the keychain in the air to show the leather strap next to a metal charm in the shape of a ship’s helm. Xiaojun said nothing for a whole minute and suddenly you started to doubt yourself. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. “I love it.” 

His smile made your breath hitch.

You were thirteen years old when your heart started to feel lopsided in ways it had never had before.

--

The paper sitting in front of you was due soon and yet it was still there on your desk, unfinished, as if it were mocking you. You felt annoyed, but you knew at the end of the day this was your fault and only you could fix this, but no matter how hard you grasped your pen, you could not urge words of ink to spill out and fill the page. You were not sure how long you stared at the page, but you knew you had to do something about it. 

You were seventeen years old and you were lost.

With an indignant huff, you grabbed the sheet of paper and marched all the way to Xiaojun’s apartment. Xiaojun’s parents were out, so it was Xiaojun himself who let you in. He was surprised to see you, but welcomed you warmly, glad to see you face.

“Hey,” he already started to make his way back to his room after shutting the front door, not even bothering to look back to see if you were going to follow because he knew you were. “What’s up?” 

Immediately after entering Xiaojun’s room, you plopped yourself face down onto his pillow while holding up the white sheet of paper in the air. “This is killing me,” you groaned.

Xiaojun chuckled before taking hold of the paper. His eyes widened when he read its content. “You haven’t filled it out yet?” 

This sheet of paper was going to determine your whole future. This sheet was going to be your priority list of which colleges you wanted to apply for and which major you were going to study, so your teacher could help narrow it down for you and give you some career counseling. 

“I don’t know what to put,” you whined. “Help me, Xiaojun.”

“Okay, okay, do you know what school or major you’re interested in?” 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Fair point. Uhm. What’s the best school you think you can get in?” 

“I don’t know, maybe some local university?” 

“Okay… and major?” 

“I don’t know, whatever department is easiest to get into I guess.” 

Xiaojun gave you a pointed look. “Come on, take this seriously.” 

You were seventeen years old and you were frustrated. 

“I don’t know, Xiaojun! I really don’t have any clue whatsoever and everyone around me is so disappointed because I have no direction, but trust me, I can guarantee you that I’m much more disappointed than everyone around me.” 

Xiaojun’s eyes softened and he moved to sit on his bed near your defeated figure. He rubbed your back gently and his tone was sincere. “I’m not disappointed in you. I could never be disappointed in you.”

You looked up at him before opening your arms wide open for a hug, which Xiaojun granted easily. The two of you laid there in easy comfort despite the impending unknown future that loomed overhead, casting a shadow of doubt in its wake. When you were with Xiaojun, none of that mattered. 

After a while, your head perked up from its place on top of Xiaojun’s arms as you looked at him. “Wait, what about you? Did you fill it out? What do you want to be?” 

Xiaojun laughed, “yeah, I did.” 

You waited expectantly, but he said nothing. You grew annoyed. “Well? What’d you put?”

Xiaojun looked at you. His eyes were soft and warm, but you could see some faint traces of hesitation, like a surface of still water had been disturbed. The pit of your stomach dropped and you felt your throat go dry with nervous tension.

“I want to be a singer.” 

You punched him lightly. “You scared me, cause you got all serious for a second.” You laughed out loud, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. “You’re for sure going to be the best singer in all of China, no, the whole world! And I’m going to be there every step of the way to support you, Xiaojun.” 

“Okay,” he smiled softly, but his tone was almost bittersweet as though he was trying to pull back. “That’s good to hear.” 

“Why are you acting so weird? This is not like you at all.” 

He said nothing at first, but then his words hit you. All the weight off your shoulder earlier returned tenfold. “I was casted. I’m flying to South Korea next week.”

Your heart was pounding as you tried to make sense of the words that left his mouth. You remembered the first time he confided you in absolute confidence about his dreams and aspirations. You remembered countless hours he put into singing and you remembered how often he would stream videos of singers he admired. You remembered all of it.

“I’m,” you started. “I’m so happy for you, Xiaojun. This is it, this is the start of your dream. I couldn’t be more proud of you, Xiaojun, I mean it.” 

The sincerity in your tone had Xiaojun choking on his words and he didn’t know what to say. All that left his mouth was, “what do you want to be?” 

“Me?” Your chest felt heavy. “I think I just want to be happy.”

“Yeah,” he hummed. “I want you to be happy too.” 

A week later, you saw Xiaojun off at the airport. He exchanged tearful goodbyes with his parents and suddenly he was standing in front of you. His eyes looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for something that you were not sure you were able to procure for him. You gave him the biggest hug you were able to muster and hoped all the unsaid things could be transferred through touch. The two of you stayed in each other’s arms until his flight was called. With a final wave, he was off, and when he turned around to walk toward his terminal, you saw a keychain with a metal charm and an old worn down leather strap hanging from one of the zippers of his carry-ons.

You were seventeen years old when you felt your heart swell with undeniable pride, yet break simultaneously. 

--

You missed Xiaojun.

You were twenty-one years old when you came to terms with your feelings for your best friend. It was not an earth-shattering, cosmic-altering, reality-bending epiphany, but rather a quiet revelation followed by unspoken acceptance.

You were currently sitting in economy class on a flight en route to Seoul, South Korea. You had still kept in contact with him throughout the years he was out there pursuing his dreams. You decided to enroll in the local university and you picked a major on a whim. Despite the circumstances, you had really come to terms with it and grew to like it. You were now working hard at developing a solid career from it and you felt proud of yourself. 

When text messages and video calls became few and far between for you and Xiaojun due to busy schedules and time zone differences, you knew he was something more than just a friend. Your heart fluttered whenever you heard his specially assigned notification tone. You felt giddy each time before you opened his message and you read each text at least three times before sending a reply. When you don’t hear from him on days on end due to his busy schedule, time passed by at an unbearable pace. 

Xiaojun made his debut and you were one of the first to pre-order his albums. You constantly gushed and raved about his singing and his dancing. You stayed up countless nights to let Xiaojun vent and de-stress over video call despite having to sacrifice precious hours of sleep. True to your word, you were there with Xiaojun every step of the way while he achieved his dreams, but he was also there for you when you figured out your path. He was there to listen and offer advice as you considered one career path over the other and which internship to take. The two of you were there for each other. 

Due to the very nature of growing up and what that entailed, both of you were very busy and the timing was always slightly off. When you were free, he had to go on tour, but when he was free, you had to go out of town for your internship. As such, you were twenty-one years old and had not had a chance to see your best friend in person for nearly four years since he left for South Korea.

But this year, for the winter holidays, it was going to be different. You were going to make time to go see him no matter what. You were firm on the requested days off and you booked the flight weeks in advance. Xiaojun was kept in the loop of your meticulous holiday planning at all times to ensure that he could free up his schedules at just the right time to see you. 

The two of you never actually expressed your changing feelings for one another, but perhaps you didn’t need to. You had known each other practically your whole lives and what is a relationship if not the constant changing and finetuning of the little details? 

You weren’t blind to the consistent ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts you received from Xiaojun each day without fail, nor was he blind to your constant fretting if he had eaten yet and how he should always be taking care of himself. It was the little things that sung of true love. 

When the two of you had the chance to video call, his eyes would light up with a smile to match and you feel your soul ache in the most tender of ways. The two you lingered longer than necessary when it came to ‘goodbyes,’ but it was to be expected. 

You smiled to yourself thinking about him as you looked outside the plane window. Your flight was landing soon and you felt your anxiety gnaw at your joints while your hesitancy took a bite of your lungs. When you landed, you felt as though the ligaments in your body rusted over and each breath of air you took never seemed like enough to flow through your system. You took a few more deep breaths to center yourself before getting up to leave the plane. 

You managed to calm yourself down a substantial amount, but you felt it lurk back behind you as a sudden chill traveled up your spine during the taxi ride to Xiaojun’s dorm. It threatened to seize you by the throat, but then you realized, this was Xiaojun you were coming to see. 

The same Xiaojun who cried easily and had a pirate phase through most of his childhood. The same Xiaojun who took long bites in between food and would lose in arm wrestling matches. The same whose voice could reach unknown heights with a dedication and devotion to match. The same Xiaojun who was your best friend since childhood. The same Xiaojun whom you loved.

And with that, whatever haunted you dissipated and you found yourself at the steps of his dorm. You watched as your breath came out in chilly wisps as you knocked on the door. The sound of padded footsteps ambling along hardwood floors were heard and suddenly you were face to Xiaojun after a whole four years without him. 

The two of you took each other in. Video calling did not do Xiaojun justice. He really matured into his features over the years and you couldn’t help, but stare. 

Xiaojun broke the silence first. “Hey, you.” 

“Hey, you yourself,” you breathed.

“Come on, don’t just stand there,” Xiaojun ushered as he helped you grab your luggage. “It’s cold outside.” 

You followed him as he led you to his room. You looked around with curiosity as you passed by. The WayV dorm was cozy, but surprisingly empty, not that you minded. When you got to his door, Xiaojun saw the look on your face and knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Everyone’s out right now,” he explained. “I can formally introduce you to them when they get back.”

You nodded and watched as Xiaojun placed his hand on the door knob, before stopping in hesitation. He looked at you in earnest. “Promise me you won’t laugh, okay?” 

“Nothing can phase me, Xiaojun. I practically lived at your house and vice versa, or did a few years abroad make you forget that already?” You teased.

He gave you a look, but opened the door for you nonetheless. You expected a messy room with random socks strewn on the floor and the desk chair stacked high with a pile of clothes, but what greeted you nearly took your breath away.

The floor was spotless and fairy lights lined the walls and occasionally looped around the floor. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner dimpled with various ornaments of various sheen and sparkles. Xiaojun led you to the center of the room where the various colored fairy lights crossed one another’s path. A mistletoe tied on the fanlight hung overhead. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

Xiaojun smiled as he drew you in closer. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I really wanted it to be something special. Merry Christmas.” 

You started to tear up as you moved to meet Xiaojun in the middle, “I love you, Xiaojun.” 

You were twenty-one years old when you kissed your best friend. His lips were soft and his tongue sweet. He tasted vaguely of vanilla lip balm and peppermint bark, he tasted like the love of your life. 

When you pull back from the kiss, the adoration in his eyes made you greedy for another, so you dove back in, but not before Xiaojun can let out a quick laugh and a reaffirmation. 

“I love you, too.” 

The two of you kissed and kissed again, under the mistletoe. 

You were twenty-one years old and you were happy.

masterlist.

[head---ache]

Sketches and a comic I never finished for the split au:)