#if anyone wants to tell me how to link things in the notes on ao3 i'll link to the post there too

[jaeminvore]

room(hate) | L.JN (M) — part I

SYNOPSIS: all you wanted was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital. All you needed was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital, but even that was considered a luxury in these trying times. A luxury blatantly stolen by your roommate, Jeno Lee, who seemed to have an endless line of bodies to fuck preventing you from getting at least an hour shut eye. It was annoying. It was disrupting and you seriously hoped that Jeno's dick falls off one day.

PART I (you are here) | PART II

[AO3 link for easier reading! Though please do consider leaving your thoughts on here if you’d like! I’d appreciate it sm 🥹💖]

GENRE: roommate au, non-idol au, slice of life-ish, unrequited hate, roommates with benefits, domesticity, porn with plot, fluff, comedy, crack treated seriously.

WORD COUNT: 18.3K out of 50K

CONTENT WARNINGS: afab!reader, a reader-insert but no ‘Y/N’ is used, MC's a little mean (blame it on the sleep deprivation), Mark has an unnamed girlfriend, Jeno's kind of an asshole (not on purpose) at first, mild slut-shaming, banter as forms of flirting/foreplay [smut warnings underneath the cut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

SMUT WARNINGS: Jeno has a big dick. fingering, squirting, doggy, unprotected sex (please practice safe-sex unlike these two), back-shots, aftercare.

NOTE: save me beatbox Jeno... s̸a̷v̷e̵ ̶̟̀m̸̞̐̇ë̴̠̟̤̆... everything is consensual btw! MC just looooves to deny and deny and deny because not only does Jeno put the 'D' in dick, he also puts the 'D' in denial <3 if i sound a little too in love it’s bc i am i love that man and i need him so bad 🧍🏻‍♀️

"You like your peace, but you love a little chaos." — Maze by Alina Baraz

"I want you to love like you hate me and fuck me so crazy, crazy." — Lava Lamp by Lolo Zouaï

I.

“When you first get a taste and your heart starts to race.”

Mark thought it would be best to part ways after living together for four years.

He was leaving you. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Mark corrected. “I’m moving in with my girlfriend.”

“That does not make it any better!”

Mark Lee was leaving you.

Not as a side-piece. Not as his ‘actual’ girlfriend (gross!), but leaving you to fend for yourself as his best friend. Which, fine, perhaps you could have started with that and excluded your dramaticism, but no one could really blame the immediate distress when you were about to lose Golden Boy Mark Lee—golden in many ways such as being the perfect roommate (minus his awful cooking. He was a great haggling partner for cheap deals, though)—to domesticity.

The thought of throwing all that away in exchange for less would send anyone into a downward spiral, if you could consider your crazed search for the next best thing as that; treating it as if you had to gamble a huge chunk of your life for the sake of retaining that same level of comfort and ease you got from Mark.

The only catch was, you had no fucking idea what it meant to gamble. Neither in the literal, nor in the figurative sense.

Which should have been telling considering that you had never, not even once, thought of exchanging a portion of your paycheck for chips you knew you’d immediately lose the second the lack of knowledge and experience showed on your losing set of cards. The closest comparable scenario you could think of was accompanying your grandmother to Mahjong Sundays with her friends, but even then, keeping up with the rules was rather difficult for a kid who only knew toys and the air time of her favorite cartoon.

Granny’s friends and Granny herself hadn’t bothered with explaining it to you either, being far too invested with their acrylic tiles. What you did learn, though, was how agitating the sounds were when they hit together. It just about evoked such a raw feeling of irritation a seven year old could go through. The messy aftermath of snot and tears did it for Granny that she made sure to ask if you’d let her drag you along.

In short: no gambling experience, yet going in full-on with that mindset equated a recipe for a shitty disaster just waiting to implode on itself.

Still, you liked to think that you had played your cards right during the whole selection process. 

Details of each possible candidate were carefully written down—color-coded, bullet points, foot-notes. Some probable pet peeves highlighted to be raised for another round of deliberation—thanks to the extensive background checks you had done on your own accord, then later checked by Mark pushed by your unrelenting insistence. A second opinion would help narrow down your choices and who better to fill that role other than your own roommate?

Well, ex-roommate since—again—Mark had succumbed to the clutches of domestic bliss.

And it’s not like it couldn’t be seen from miles away. Everyone and their mothers knew Mark’s intentions right when he had brought home a shih tzu—a dog he and his girlfriend decided to co-parent despite living separately—to look after while Mark’s other half went away for a work trip. Really, anyone could tell that he was itching to start anew under the same roof with his girlfriend, but you didn't expect it to be that day to be so soon.

Who was going to play as your budget therapist now?

If there was anyone out there who knew how exhausting being in healthcare was, it was Mark. He understood the grievances that came with being a nurse and he was always there to lend an ear until you felt less burdened by the frustrations you had carried throughout a demanding shift. It was like an inborn skill he had, finding it in himself to simply know what to say and how to bring you back down.

No one could ever replace Mark. Your co-worker. Ex-roommate. Your best friend and now that he was off to start a new chapter in his life, in love as he could ever be, this called for new coping mechanisms, and a new roommate because there was no way in hell you were going to pay in full when you had other expenses already making a sizeable dent in your next paycheck. Making it bigger was not an option you would risk.

That was another reason why you insisted on the in-depth research amounting to almost a month’s worth of what was essentially the text-book definition of stalking.

From: marklee@gmail.com Subject the roommate games Attached: tributes_lol.doc

Don’t you think you’re being a little too nit-picky with all this? When did being a Leo become a deal breaker for you haha. Like people can’t change their birthdays and do I need to remind you that I’m a Leo? We’ve managed to not kill each other over the years. There’s also Jaemin? Dejun? Who are also Leos? Who are also our close friends? What is your problem with Leos? I thought Geminis were the worst?

To: marklee@gmail.com Subject: the roommate games Attached: tributes_lol_FINAL.doc

yes, and?? THREE Leos are enough i don’t need more! in my defense i made the worst mistake of becoming emotionally attached to you guys except Jaemin (and Hyuck by association) forced friendship onto me if u remember. he’s like a stray cat that wont leave me alone.

From: marklee@gmail.com Subject: the roommate games

This is literally just a blank document?

To: marklee@gmail.com Subject: the roommate games

Which means your selection was ASS!!!!!! i dont like ANY of them. One has a criminal record of insurance fraud and the other is weird as FUCK dude like who cradles and pets their fucking goldfish like its a cat?how bout this, do u personally know anyone in need of a place? LIKE someone at least 70% normal

Radio silence. Almost five hours of it and sitting in front of your laptop refreshing the shit out of your inbox as if that would do anything seemed like the worst possible choice of action when aiming for a productive afternoon.

By the time you heard from Mark again, golden light illuminated the living area that you had to squint, picking up your phone to read his text messages.

Mark (ER): I found someone Mark (ER): remember Jeno Lee?

You: no lol

Mark (ER): lol Mark (ER): tall, muscular and kind of a hermit?

You: ur not really giving me much to work with You: for all i know jaem legally changed his name to jeno for some reason

Mark (ER): he’s nicer than Jaemin

You: 😟 You: one of hyuck and jaem’s friends i assume?

Mark (ER): correct Mark (ER): he’s looking for a place Mark (ER): and he’s likely the 70% normal to your 30% normal 😁

You: wait what’s my 70% then?

Mark (ER): insane

You: die

“His lease is ending soon too.” Mark brought up a few days later in the middle helping him pack up for the great move, and it was nice out too. Not too cold, not too hot—really, just a nice day out with the perfect temperature accompanied by an occasional breeze, and yet Mark chose this day to pack up his life, enlisting your help when you could be doing something else that didn’t remind you of the impending loneliness that was about to come.

Even the outside wasn’t safe from the beginnings of grief.

The outside, a picturesque view of the city’s greens gradually bleeding into the many shades of fall framed by the large window, became the very subject of your mournful eyes.

Brooding became your default state, whereas Mark carried on plucking his vinyl records, a small collection of novelty trinkets from your joint travels and the handful of thick textbooks from nursing school he refused to throw out. I might need them at some point, y’know. He once told you after catching your eyebrows raised in question. Just because we graduated doesn’t mean we magically know everything and Mark was mostly right about these things.

You were going to miss Mark being mostly right about these things. Whether it would be over something trivial, or medical related, he just was. Always a step ahead of you in many cases.

Summer was at its peak when Mark had sat you down to tell you of his plans, the sun harsh with its light and adding on to the steady increase in temperature. He decided to push through once the summer heat dissipated completely in anticipation of a chilly fall, and just like how the seasons came and went, watching Mark stow away bits and pieces of himself into the boxes was an inevitable change you had to accept. 

The loud scratch of the packaging tape made him wince as you sealed the box. “Who?”

“Jeno,” He repeated, reminding you of Donghyuck and Jaemin’s elusive, so-and-so friend as he took the tape from you with a pointed stare. “y’know, your new roomie?”

“I haven’t even said yes.”

“Trust me, you will.” Mark looked very sure of his claim, too. “Anyways—” he waved towards the air “—said something about his lease ending in a few weeks or so? He wanted somewhere close to work and our complex is like, real close to his office. A win on both sides?”

At least it wasn’t just you benefiting from the change.

“Right. How the hell am I gonna get to work without your car now?”

“That’s all you can say?”

“Hm, no,” you said, turning to face Mark with a straight face. “Do you think I could bribe Jeno into driving me to work?”

Mark huffed, “you’re stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” you cried, doing an awful job of keeping the waterworks from overflowing with frustrated swipes to your face. “This is so stupid—I’m stupid—God, you only live like thirty minutes away.”

Mark, ever the one to find his friends endearing even in the most undignified of conditions, let out a fond coo while gathering you up in his arms in a tight squeeze. “I’m gonna miss your morning arguments with the coffee machine too.”

The dig was met with a thwack on the arm.

Wherever Mark went, you followed. Only because he was literally your ride to and from work and how convenient it was that you both worked at the same private hospital. He was the type to simply offer a ride when you obviously needed it. For years, it had been like that.

Now, Mark stayed behind. Where he belonged, leaving him in the care of his girlfriend practically absorbing his oozing joy as they both coddled her—their dog, Ziggy, just outside of their apartment complex. The couple were completely lost in one another, inadvertently forgetting the piles of boxes in Mark’s car that had to be brought up sooner or later. They had all the time in the world anyway and it was understandable that Mark would want to simply bask in the moment with the one person that made every waking day worth it. 

And leaving them behind to catch the next bus was a bittersweet pinch to your heart.

Mark was off to unfold the next chapter of his life, and here you were still, stuck in an endless cycle, wondering if you’d ever get to start on a new chapter of yours, too.

Jeno Lee hadn't exactly matched whom you pictured in your head.

When there was Jaemin and Donghyuck, it was kind of an unspoken rule that your one-way ticket to the nearest psychiatric ward was to be willingly associated with the likes of them. 

Years of dealing with their joint efforts of embodying the human version of a headache, you kind of knew how to deal with whatever Jeno could potentially have in store for you. Jaemin and Donghyuck got along like a house on fire when the weather was fair, or when the planets aligned by some convoluted space related jargon Jisung would happily indulge any of you with. On any other day, they simply could not stand each other, wanting nothing to do with the other and arguing for the sake of arguing.

Still, they were the best of friends and having their differences was simply unavoidable, yet the many similarities they shared became a sturdy foundation for their friendship to last a long time.

Being unapologetically insane was one of them.

One’s involvement automatically entailed that they were just as deranged to some degree, and seeing the elusive piece to the trio you weren’t even aware was a trio, Jeno Lee—in the flesh—with a smile so sweet and unassuming gave you an earth-shattering wake-up call and reminder that you probably shouldn’t solely rely on baseless assumptions, especially when it came to people. Insane friends aside.

Other than that, you didn’t think a man with a face and body carefully sculpted by marble and brought to life by the gods themselves would be up to some milder version of fuckery like they were, now that Jeno thought to introduce himself.

The apartment felt staggeringly bigger than what you were used to with the absence of what made it belong to Mark too, though Jeno did a swell enough job to fill in the empty spaces with his presence alone.

It was brief. The meeting with the potential roommate, but nothing short of nerve-wracking when the man had the vibe of a quintessential supermodel top modeling agencies would fight tooth and nail for, decked in athleisure that had shown how he was built to all hell. A hundred-eighty-something centimeters of lean muscle cut with precision; clearly the fruit of Jeno’s possibly strict lifestyle, quietly taking everything in with a sense of wonder, yet simultaneously staying attentive as you ran your mouth about the apartment’s features and how sharing possible expenses would work.

You know, the vital stuff you’d want to know when it involved sharing your space with another person.

Which raised a few questions from Jeno himself. Little things along the lines of how often trash would be collected? If the apartment complex had a laundry room and if not, was there a laundromat by at least walking distance? How about a convenience store? A gym closer than his current one? These were answered fairly quickly, from which Jeno seemed pleased when his eyes turned into little half moons when he smiled, bringing your attention to the beauty mark under his right eye. God, was it adorable and frankly, you still couldn’t believe he chose to associate with two of the most annoying people you knew.

It was cute. Jeno Lee was cute, but among everything he had going on—your wandering eyes greatly appreciated the free viewing—his voice was what stuck out to you the most with how gentle he had spoken.

A voice deep and rumbly, yet warmth coated each syllable rattling the beating palm-sized thing in your chest the more the carefully articulated sentences passed through Jeno’s naturally pouted lips. He talked like he was trying to get into your good graces; like talking in any other way would risk disrupting the pleasant ambience set in stone before Jeno’s visit, which wasn’t at all necessary when Mark practically sang his praises.

And Jeno was all Mark talked about post-moving out.

Seriously, if he hadn’t chosen the medical path like you had, Mark Lee would have made a mean sales rep. You even felt the need to stop him and ask if he was still talking about a human being and not a brand new car right after he had his fill of listing down exactly why you should take Jeno in. How he essentially met all your admittedly nit-picky roommate requirements. 

Mild-temperament. What was he, a dog? Jeno was neat and tidy. Claimed that he couldn't function if measly things such as a coaster was askew. Oh good. A neat freak just like me. There were also a few pages of referrals Mark had shown—yes, printed—from previous landlords and roommates because that was a thing, apparently. Squeaky clean criminal record (with a cute face like that, it didn’t come as a surprise). Worked in tech. In the same income bracket as you.

A Taurus man.

Which shouldn’t have given you that much of a start, really. You haven’t had much experience dealing with any Taurus people—a Taurus man, no less, so this would be decidedly new.

He is reliable, persistent, and down-to-earth, with a strong sense of duty and an admirable work ethic; the kind of guy you can always count on in both your personal and professional life. He is not one to make waves or cause drama; he just wants to do his job and go home at the end of the day. A Taurus man is all about practicality, stability, and security. 

He wants nothing more than to provide the protection of his loved ones and create a harmonious home life.

At least that was what the article wrote (ignoring the in-your-face romantic tone. You were looking for a roommate, not a husband), sent by an astrology-fixated Donghyuck who seemed a little too eager providing his insight when asked for his opinion on Jeno and Taurus people in general being acquainted with you.

“A little stability won’t hurt. It’ll be good for you,” Donghyuck had mentioned over the phone after grilling you and your astrological sign, antagonizing you for no reason. It went mostly ignored though, preoccupied with reading a case you were assisting with Dr. Kim tomorrow. “and nothing screams stability more than Jeno’s credit score.”

An excellent credit score, from what Mark had relayed over cheap Chinese takeout and never would you have thought you’d cream your pants from that information, yet here you were. Financial stability was a viable trait you’d consider looking for in someone, so the decision was a no-brainer.

“Oh, before I go.”

You swallowed something down like a scream when Jeno whirled around to face you while digging into his gym bag. 

“Mark probably gave you the rundown about me but—” a folded piece of paper was produced from within the depths of his bag, having you blinking owlishly when he wriggled it for you to take.

Jeno’s palm was warm under the gentle brush of your fingers as you plucked it from his own set, pointedly ignoring the zing that jolted through you.

Arial. Font size twelve. Single spaced and justified, and it wrote what Mark had been yapping about all this time prior to having Jeno in the apartment. His MBTI, a rundown of his personality with all his quirks and habits included (you snorted rather loudly when catching the italicized ‘mild-temperament’). There was his daily routine that heavily emphasized his recreation time such as cycling, working out, gaming and a small pool of sports. His likes and dislikes, and making you laugh the loudest was his disclaimer, something Jeno was rather proud of when you caught his pleased smile.

Disclaimer: Homebody, but will go out with you if you ask nicely. I get lost in gaming a lot so you might have to knock very loudly, or even call my phone. I get sulky very easily. Please be nice to me (.◜◡◝)

The emoticon was just the cherry on top. It looked so much like him—an absolutely precious detail that you had to do a side-by-side comparison, only to find him already gazing at you in wonder.

He cleared his throat, smiling and cheeks glowing with the faintest of color. “I figured you’d want a detailed resumé. He said you’d appreciate it.” Jeno joked with the smile widening into a soft grin that showcased his perfect white teeth, long fingers raking through his dark blue hair, both in a manner that screamed boyish and charming.

He was charming, which came as a belated, mortifying realization. Nano seconds was all it took to picture life sharing everything with a cute-faced gym rat and his equally cute grin you’d have to face every single waking day for fuck knows how long until you went insane.

It could either be the best or the worst thing to come out of this. You’re not sure yet.

Though it’s as if Jeno sensed your mental turmoil because he didn’t even give you a second to rethink, leaning in close enough that you got a whiff of his cologne as he poked a particular spot on the paper a few times, grin dimming into something gentler where his eyes gained this puppy-ish quality to them followed by a head tilt.

“My number is on here,” he stressed with one last poke to his number, ducking his head low enough to catch your gaze. “Call or text me if I make the cut, yeah?”

And as the door shut behind Jeno after flashing you one last dazzling smile, you slumped against the wall with a harsh sigh, mind racing and heart about to fly out of your rib cage with the paper still clutched tightly in between your fingers.

Jesus.

You: I think I just saw a god

Mark (ER): lol? 😆 Mark (ER): how was it with Jeno

You: i literally just said i think i saw a god

Approximately three hours later, you’ve earned yourself a Mark replacement, much to the namesake’s chagrin and stealing a piece of your chicken tenders as a form of retribution.

Approximately a week and half later, Jeno hung his degree and graduation portrait next to yours right above the TV, a detail both of you found hilarious and continued to giggle over even after clearing two greasy boxes of pizza for your first dinner together as roommates. 

Approximately two months or so later, Jeno had unknowingly made an enemy for himself:

You.

II.

“When you go out your way and you don’t see a change.” 

Frankly, being in this sticky situation could have been avoided entirely if you hadn’t let Mark’s flattery towards your roommate lure you into a false sense of security.

Frequent reassurance was an absolute necessity.

It was good to just know about things and your ex-roommate had made Jeno sound promising the handful of times your conversation would segue to him. It was your own hubris in Mark’s reassurance that had led you to this—that, and Mark had perfected the art of persuasion with words.

He’d always been good at spinning the narrative for his own advantage (Jeno’s in this case). Too good, in fact, where everything that flew past his mouth left no room for worry to fester when you’ve not yet lost anything of significance from trusting Mark and his judgment.

That was until you did. Blindsided by soft grins, half-moon eyes and a killer body you’d catch yourself quietly admiring whenever Jeno, oddly enough, took to working out in the living area.

So in conclusion, this was all Mark’s fault.

“This is all your fault.”

“Yo, what?” Mark laughed in that way where you just knew that he knew he fucked up. Forced, awkward, and a little terrified of what was about to come. “What’d I do?” He asked anyway, knowing he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep without finding out just what he did to get accused.

“You shouldn’t have pimped Jeno out to me—“

Mark rolled his eyes. “Not what I did—“

“Pimped Jeno out to me, ‘else I wouldn’t be suffering this much.”

“Hold on—you asked me to help look for a roommate,” he started, voice pitching up in disbelief. “And I spent days helping you sort out every important detail—even the nit-picky ones—for you! Only to ask for someone who wasn’t even listed on the fuckin’ doc. And in the end, you said yes!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah. Clearly a mistake on my part."

As he ranted, Mark’s gestures grew more and more frantic in defense of himself, only for his arms to fall back to his sides with a huff when you barely blinked, unimpressed, and then folding them above his chest with a pout before mumbling, “how’d you even find out about the criminal record and the weird fish owner anyway?”

You graced him with a lazy shrug. “Fascinating what you can achieve with technology.”

He stilled, squinting in thought before letting out a resigned sigh. “Donghyuck.”

“Duh? The closest I got to hacking was looking for a cracked Sims 2 copy.” You soon got grounded by Dad when you had infected the family computer with malware, sadly. “Hyuck’s surprisingly useful when wants to be.”

Or greedy. Ten dollars were raised once you goaded Donghyuck into sussing out any deal-breakers with a snide comment or two slipping out about him not being able to find anything that would make you second guess any of the potential roommates. Naturally, Donghyuck took your provocation rather seriously, treating it as the be-all and end-all to prove a point.

Ten minutes later, he was ten dollars richer. Crazy what people would do for money.

“Conflict of interest!” you raised again, loudly, making Mark flinch. “I barely get six hours of sleep now because of your emotional ties with my sworn enemy.”

Sure there were many benefits of being approachable, but you were somewhat of a negative Nancy and all you could think of was how Mark’s painstaking kindness could potentially get taken advantage of by some lurking asshole out there.

Which was exactly what had happened. With you as collateral.

“Uh, not gonna lie, but I think you’re being a little dramatic,” he sniffed, biting roughly into the sandwich you graciously made for him. Biting the hands that fed him, how lovely.

“I’m being dramatic?” you said, incredulous, and then flicked his forehead just to hear him cry out in pain. “Okay—try having Jeno’s headboard slamming against the wall as your lullaby, which—surprise, surprise—won’t help you sleep at all!”

You paused to regulate your breathing because you were getting a little too heated and you didn’t want to traumatize Mark even more by angrily exploding into pieces. Even as a nurse and though rare, he still got a little squeamish.

“I’m just saying, you’d think he’d have some shame and invest in those rubber bumpers, but no—he just had to make sure I know he’s getting way more sex than me.”

And he did. Have way more sex than you, that is, which was kind of insane now that you’ve thought about it. Ego-bruising too when the sounds you desperately tried to drown out still breached through a pair of neon green earplugs stuck deep as they could go into your ear holes. His questionable refractory period kept you up on most nights he had girls over, wondering how short it was that he’s able to bounce back and keep you up until the witching hour with the awful remix of moans, groans, screams and whatever noises one could make during sex. Why was it always the innocent looking ones the freakiest? Why must you suffer through all this?

You made a low noise in your throat, almost like a growl just thinking about what you've gone through the last few weeks. Fucking asshole.

Mark’s eyes widened. Whether it was from your admission, or the almost inhuman sound you made, the simmering rage wasn’t that hard to miss. The moment Mark walked into the apartment, he could visibly tell how wound up you were from your pinched expression while you waited for the bread to toast.

He’s been here for almost two hours and you have yet to relax. Mark’s current concern was what if your face gets permanently stuck scowling like that?

“Huh,” he breathed out, “didn’t know Jeno got bitches that often.”

“Mark.”

Mark immediately backtracked at the edge to your voice. “Uh, I mean—“ he cleared his throat, “fuck Jeno. I hope his dick, like, falls off.”

The beseeching shine of his eyes for your approval would have been something to laugh at if it weren’t for the anger taking full reign of the receptors responsible for regulating your emotions, not letting it process anything but the bottled up frustration from weeks of enduring the extra noises accompanying most of your nights.

So much for creating a harmonious home life with a Taurus man. Fuck that article, fuck whoever wrote it, and fuck Jeno Lee in particular. Seriously.

“You’re more pissed off than usual.”

“Yeah? Hadn’t noticed,” you said dryly.

“Dude, c’mon. Y’know what I mean,” Mark giggled, reaching out to pinch your cheek. You swat his hand away with a whine when he tried to go for the other. “Sorry, sorry—just—I feel like he did more if you—“ he made a vague gesture to the air in front of you “—are this upset.”

“I think keeping me up with the horrendously loud fucking takes the cake.”

“I dunno. You lost your fuckin’ marbles when I ate your food that one time.” He shuddered, knowing fully well how touchy you were with the prepped meals you slaved for hours every Saturday. “Was that what he did? That’s the one thing I told him not to do.”

Being this far into your career, cooking was almost like a chore since you barely had any opportunities to cook actual at-home-meals that required significant amounts of time and patience. You could even say that it was more appropriate to call it a luxury almost as most of your time was dedicated to the hospital—to your patients whose lives were also in your hands, and pre-made food was the only solution to fit three-meals-a-day into your demanding schedule.

The long-lasting effects of when he, out of sheer desperation, snatched your jar of banana chia pudding still lingered when he always made it a point to ask if he could have one bite, or a quick sip after the rather traumatizing verbal lashing you’ve subjected him to.

“No. Jeno knows not to do that at least.”

Like Mark, it’s the one thing you had stressed right when you had Jeno settle in. Not that he minded, sans the obligatory head tilt when he didn’t quite get it until your further explanation. He even offered his help with the meal-prep which kind of—for a fleeting moment—made you feel a little guilty thinking back to the conversation (puppy eyes, full lips jutted out into a thoughtful pout. More puppy eyes and Jeno’s weird, trademarked noises of confusion) until you were violently reminded of his fuckery.

Perhaps the whole golden retriever-like temperament and attentiveness balanced out his newly discovered predilection for whoring himself out.

Mark heaved a heavy sigh as if he was the one with a 24/7 sex noise problem. “Well, what could be worse than Jeno banging some random chick?”

You gave him a grim smile.

See, the thing was, it hadn’t always been like this.

You were no stranger to peace as you did get a generous taste of it with Jeno thrown into the mix. A peaceful coexistence between a surgical nurse and some tech guy.

A routine had been built around having different work hours where you were mostly gone from morning to evening when you weren’t on-call, while Jeno was, more often than not, stationary since he had the choice to either work from home on his elaborate PC set-up, or in the office he’d drive to when needed.

It was relatively normal. Jeno stayed true to the being neat claim and he kept to himself most of the time. He did his set of chores listed on the mini whiteboard stuck to the fridge and proved himself to be quite the efficient handyman also; assembling furniture with ease as well as fixing up superficial problems in the apartment. He was a decent cook too and Jeno generally acted what one would expect from a proper roommate who was here to make a home with you.

It had been normal. It had been peaceful, until you realized you were housing a potential sex fiend. What made this whole thing exponentially worse, though, was that the last girl he had brought home wasn't just some random chick that had fallen victim to Jeno’s charms.

It was Jimin Yu, your work best friend and the only other person who knew of your sleeping problem caused by the root of said problem whom you were starting to believe was sent to you as a divine punishment for fuck knows what. Which was kind of funny to think about considering Mark, his faith and him technically being the catalyst of it all, but you digressed. This was literally a slow-burn epidemic happening in real life, and yet no one else seemed to be alarmed by it.

Jimin Yu. Another promising young woman lost to some fucking loser (see: Jeno). Again. 

How you came to find out that it was your best friend getting her back blown out six ways to fucking Sunday right before a full day of two major operations waiting for you to scrub and assist in was from pure accidental intuition alone.

And anger. 

Especially anger.

There was a self-imposed rule you strictly followed: do not leave your room until you were sure the chosen girl from Jeno’s seemingly never-ending roster left. Saving both you and the poor girl from the embarrassment was the least you could do when you yourself would rather avoid any risks of running into anyone in someone else’s home right after a hook-up.

And, well, there was a reason why the saying ‘rules are meant to be broken’ was popularized, because you broke that one simple rule that had supposedly kept your remaining sanity intact.

Two hours left before your shift started and you were more husk than person from the lack of sleep. All rationale completely consumed by anger, an ever-present emotion that seemed to be the only thing that kept you going—and consequently, what had led you to shoot out of bed once the telltale sounds of Jeno’s door clicking open, followed by the hurried footsteps reached your ears.

You skidded to a stop, stunned.

“You motherfucker.”

This was the ultimate act of betrayal.

“It’s—It’s not what it looks like!” Was Jimin’s immediate defense right when the thunderous twist to your face grew more and more pronounced with each stomp of your feet. Yet her words didn’t exactly help her case when:

There were obvious splashes of reds, blues and purples marking her slender neck.

Her hair was a downright mess, and you knew Jimin harbored some sort of complex for her long luscious locks, so this was new—her not bothering to comb it out, clearly in a rush to leave.

There was a slight limp in her step which just said everything.

And lastly, you caught Jeno sneaking Jimin out of his room and out of the fucking apartment, clearly expecting to not run into you.

“Ah-ah. No,” you interrupted before she could even start groveling. “I’ll deal with you later. Get out.”

Jimin’s shoulders sagged, big wet eyes staring into your very soul and it took you a Herculean amount of strength to keep your gaze ahead and not break under her stare; to keep your gaze set on the main perpetrator who, unlike Jimin, appeared rather contrary to her apparent distress. 

Jeno stood underneath the awning in only—goodness—only a pair of gym shorts where you could clearly make out a hefty looking dick-print, completely at ease and infuriatingly handsome in spite of the disheveled state he was in; matching bruises bloomed on his milky skin, scratches littered his arms, shoulders and back and his hair was left as an artful mess atop his head. 

You wanted to scream.

This was all Jeno’s fault. Not even the hurt pinching Jimin’s normally serene features was enough to lessen the tension wounding up your entire body. Not when you were already neck-deep in your own pool of unfiltered rage to even consider comforting Jimin’s momentary lapse in judgment and decision to have earth-shatteringly loud sex with your mortal enemy that the whole damn apartment complex might as well have heard.

(“I’m surprised Jimin isn’t getting as much heat since she slept with your ‘problem’. On purpose.”

You shrugged. “Men are the root of all evil.”

“Fair enough,” Mark mumbled and took a gargantuan bite of the next sandwich assembled for him. It was really a mystery how he settled down before you).

And—look, you really couldn’t care less if Jeno slept around. It was his life and he had free reign over his own body, and let’s face it, there was no way he didn’t get an obscene amount of matches on Tinder when he embodied a walking wet dream.

Jeno was far from being in your good graces at this current moment, but staying blind to the truth would only get you so far when Jeno had the physical advantages to attest to that, and the same could be said for Jimin. She could hook-up with whoever she pleased—just as easily too. Hell, you’d sleep with her too if you were a little bit interested in her—because who were you to disprove her choices? All of you were adults here, but what the main issue here was Jimin knew you had one-sided beef with your abnormally attractive roommate that fucks too loud no matter how many times you reminded him to try and keep it down, and yet she still pushed on and contributed to the recurring problem.

Truer words had never been said until Mark. You really did hope Jeno’s dick shrivels up and falls off.

Now, preferably.

Right when the door had closed behind Jimin with a soft click (after dragging her feet and sending pleading looks over her shoulder like a sad wet cat) did all the pent-up anger come out in a mess of heated words and frantic gestures.

“What the fuck.”

Each breath you took had been deep and harsh. Your face was bordering on hot to the touch from the sheer amount of rage coursing through your veins and the arduous task of resisting the urge to reach out and subject permanent damage physically, mentally and emotionally by how tightly you had clenched your fists. You could already imagine it, hands stretching towards Jeno’s neck and wringing it like a wet hand towel until it ripped in your hands—

Your roommate reacted then, as if just realizing that this wasn’t you doing a bit. It made you think of how likely it could be that Jeno got away with many things simply for being the very few that had pretty privilege as a crutch to fall onto. As for you, it would be nice to have an actual metal crutch within arm’s reach to hit him with.

He was pretty to look at, sure, but not privileged enough to keep your eye from twitching in irritation when Jeno looked the least bothered by your display, long eyelashes fluttering with each of his confused and owlish blinking.

“What?” Jeno, the village idiot, asked with imploring eyes.

“What? What do you mean ‘what’? are you—“ you cut yourself off with an incredulous, borderline manic laugh at his testosterone-filled audacity. “Are you so desperate for sex that you had to go for Jimin?”

It’s not like he wasn’t allowed to bring his own friends over since you shared the same rotation of friends and acquaintances, but really, Jimin?

“I didn’t know Jimin was off-limits. You never mentioned it.” Jeno blinked slowly with a sheepish smile. “I’ll keep that in mind next time?”

“Are you fucking—were you even listening to me? Not just now, but before too. I told you to keep it down! Many many times! I need to sleep, Jeno!”

He huffed a laugh. “Technically, it’s not really my fault if they can’t keep it down, y’know?” 

You could only stare in disbelief, mouth ajar at the fact that he’s able to act proud during an argument he was likely to lose. Like dicking down someone so loud that it became a public disturbance was some kind of achievement with the way Jeno puffs out his very naked chest in the most subtlest of ways.

He wasn’t finished talking, taking your silence as a prompt to continue with a cloying curl of his mouth. “I could show you why, if you want.”

“Excuse me?”

If Jeno knew what was good for him, he would stop running his mouth right this very second. Though over time, you started to pick up on the very unfortunate fact that he lacked tact at times, and what he had let slip through his lips next proved as much.

“I’m saying,” he dragged out, like he was expecting you to catch on. “Sex reduces stress, right? The endorphin and oxytocin rush—I’ll assume you already knew that, being a nurse and all. Woman in STEM,” Jeno sang a little jingle, the smile widening into a grin that was a touch too suggestive for your liking. “I can see that you’re pent up, and I think fucking it out of you—fucking the uptightness out of you would do both of us good. A win-win situation.”

Whatever was left of the rose-tinted image of the man who had first walked into the apartment donning the sweetest eye-smile you had ever laid eyes on was wiped just like that. His grin that was meant to convey light-hearted teasing became the very image of mockery.

If you weren’t as furious then, you were now.

“Is that how you see me? Just another number to your body count?” 

It would have been funny, watching Jeno’s features twist from surprise to regret at the speed of light almost, but anything he did beyond this point just added to the stockpiled annoyance ready to be spit up again the next time Jeno thought to push his luck. So no, this wasn’t hilarious in the slightest.

“I didn’t say that—”

“You implied it.”

“That’s—I was joking!”

You scoffed, “that’s not surprising. Do you think my job’s a ‘joke’ too?”

This was exhausting. You had already lost a significant amount of sleep you needed to get through work that would start in two hours—well, less now that you’ve taken the time to completely go off the rails until some semblance of remorse showed on Jeno’s person. As satisfying as it was to witness that happen in real-time, asking some time off of work just to process The Confrontation™ was a no-no, given how important your presence was in the OR and it just so happened that you couldn’t stand being in the same room as him.

He should’ve added ‘insatiable horndog’ to his disclaimer.

Jeno made it clear that he had nothing else to follow up on, doing a horrible impression of a fish out of water that you had taken as your cue to leave.

And for the first time in forever, you couldn’t wait to breathe in the antiseptic smell of the hospital.

Being this bothered by your cold indifference was not at all on Jeno’s bingo card.

Jeno was within your visage when you came through the door, yet you paid him no mind as you bee-lined towards your bedroom, like he didn’t exist to you. And, okay, maybe he did deserve that—no, he for sure deserved that after hours of reflecting. He wasn’t sure if you’d appreciate his excuse of not really being aware that the walls were thinner than he had thought.

Jeno winced at the mini play-by-play in his head.

You definitely wouldn’t.

The clock droned on and on with its never-ending ticking. Just a quarter past eight in the evening, Jeno checked, and his heart lurched to his throat, sitting up straighter from his perch at the island counter when you finally emerged from your room. Have you forgiven him? Did this mean you were on talking terms again? Because if he had to be honest, being ignored was a lot worse than you threatening to bite his head off. At least then you were technically talking to him still and not trying to erase his existence with sheer willpower alone.

All hope of making things right, however, was shot down the moment Jeno took a quick look at your change of clothes and the large duffle bag slung over your shoulder.

Panic welled in his chest, causing him to blurt out a garbled, “where are you going?” as you headed straight for the front door.

“Anywhere but here.”

Although there was no heat behind your words from the absence of the anger you had toted around this morning, being hit by your impassive stare has him biting back the haha nice Harry Potter reference. The poorly-timed joke from this morning was the final nail in the coffin and making another one now was a sure-fire way of getting buried six feet under. Alive.

Shortly after, the door closed behind you with a soft click. Much like how Jimin left when you had sent her out, leaving Jeno alone with the deafening silence as his only companion, the pit in his stomach growing when he peeled his gaze from the paneled door to fall onto the pair of steaming cups of coffee.

Mornings for Jeno started with you standing in front of the coffee machine, half-asleep and grumbling threats to the inanimate thing. He’d grown accustomed to the sight of your sleep-ruffled state that it was obvious you had quite the fixation on coffee. At least one cup a day, three at most, you had said with a bashful smile when he caught you pouring your third cup.

Coffee was a necessity in this household. Jeno knew that, knew how you liked to drink yours and he thought making you a cup exactly how you’d like it could melt away the thick walls you had built. A peace offering, or what was supposed to be a peace offering.

Two cups sat on the quartz countertop. One almost empty while the other remained untouched even as Jeno retired for the night.

Jeno walked into an empty kitchen the morning after.

A kitchen devoid of your sleepy form that would be threatening the coffee machine to spit out the liquid bitterness faster, or else. The silence was just as deafening and the cup—your cup—was where he left it the night before in hopes of you coming back home.

You didn’t.

Fuck.

III.

“Prove me wrong by doing it right.”

“And you stayed where? For two weeks?”

“Jaem and Hyuck’s.”

Mark grimaced. “Willingly?”

You gave him a pointed look.

He raised his hands in defense. “I’m just sayin’ you have better options—like Sungchan?” Your face softened, offering a lazy shrug. “Me?”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought. “Yeah, no.”

While you had made plenty of jokes that would last a lifetime consisting of moving in with Mark and ‘the love of his life’, ranging from them becoming your second set of parents, to you being Just There with your best friend married and with kids, the appeal of third wheeling hadn’t increased in the slightest.

“I’ve had enough moaning and groaning haunting my dreams, thanks.” You snorted at the scandalized look on Mark’s face. “and I wouldn’t want to impose on Sungchan and Chenle. Thing One and Thing Two weren’t too bad.”

Although the stay had been surprisingly pleasant, with all things considered, they did poke fun at the situation at first because—duh, men. Regardless, their combined hospitality staved off the possibility of a psychotic break triggered by Jeno’s fuck-up. It would have been better if their third bedroom hadn’t been made into Marie Kondo’s personal nightmare, but the vomit green couch had been a comfortable makeshift bed. Who knew you’d end up loving the product of Jaemin’s horrendous tastes?

Jeno stayed as elusive as ever, too. You came home when you could, only to replenish your clothing and other necessities and much to your relief, you hadn’t run into him yet. Not at the apartment, not at the guys’ place (shockingly) and there was a brief moment where you thought your roommate might turn up at the hospital, what with the onslaught of texts you received, most of them apologizing and begging for you to come home, there was a time where you dreaded going to work in light of the possibility.

(“You’d think Jeno was your boyfriend with the way he’s blowing up your phone,” Donghyuck hollered from the kitchen, in the middle of cooking dinner for everyone. “He’s getting desperate with each text, babe. Even I’m feeling a little sorry for the guy.”

You looked up from the puzzle you were working on the floor with Jaemin to stare at Donghyuck, then to the space where you remembered leaving your phone on its own and now just noticing its disappearance. “How’d you get my phone? How’d you guess my passcode?”

“Zero-zero-zero-zero wasn’t that hard to guess,” Jaemin mumbled. “You’ve always been simpleminded about these things—which reminds me—you still use the same Netflix account since college, right?”).

Jeno was a no-show, thankfully. Causing a scene at work, of all places, would be way beneath you no matter how much he pissed you off.

Still, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t talk your shit from time to time.

“They’re probably faking it,” you concluded with a scoff and then quickly backtracked. “No. I know they’re faking it and it doesn’t even matter if Jeno’s tall, muscular, handsome, capable—” Mark’s eyebrows rose higher and higher, disappearing beneath his bangs as you continued on with your tangent.

“Precious eye smile—definitely a manipulation tactic… it worked on me.”

That one, you mumbled mostly to yourself, but it was audible enough to earn a short laugh from Mark which quickly snapped you out of whatever the hell that was, and then scowled when your ex-roommate, the catalyst for your suffering, tried to keep his face straight. He was doing a terrible job.

Clearing your throat—far too many times than necessary—you ignored the warmth that bloomed on the apples of your cheeks along with Mark’s insufferably knowing smirk. “My point is, there’s no way he’d be good at sex too. Like, you’re telling me Jeno made all those girls cum? Fat fucking chance. I’m sure there’s, like, a statistic disproving that.”

You didn’t even want to think what Jimin went through, especially when you’ve gotten a glimpse of what monster was begging to be freed from Jeno’s gym shorts. But like clockwork, Mark had to ruin that brief fantasy of you being right about Jeno’s possibly (hopefully) weak stroke game.

“Eh, I’d have to disagree on that one.”

How did he even know that?

“How do you even know that?” You groaned, “I’m distressed enough as it is, Mark, please be serious.”

“I am serious! I literally have the facts to back it up!”

“And what, I’m supposed to believe you?” All you were given was a stare, an arch of an eyebrow just begging to be plucked and shaped, and nothing else. “Fine, what are these facts based on?”

“Testimonies. Plenty of them.”

Your features twisted into that of disgust. “Were you there? In the corner watching him get his dick wet? Like some pervert?”

Mark appeared as though he regretted the decision of coming here. You didn’t want to be here in the first place, so it’s only fair that none of you were having a good time. Might as well make Mark your personal verbal punching bag while you were at it.

“Jesus,” he dragged a hand down his face. The perfect image of exasperation. “The mouth on you sometimes.” 

“Sorry,” you quipped, not sorry at all.

This time, Mark let out a groan much similar to yours, obviously not liking where the direction of the already bizarre conversation was heading. This upcoming headache (see: you) was rightfully deserved though since Mark did lend a hand in forcing you into a situation so embarrassing that you’d take instant death over being an unwilling voyeur to Jeno’s many many late night sexcapades.

“Okay, okay, okay—” Mark began as if the rapid-fire speech wasn’t enough to get your attention, or the fact that it was just the two of you hanging out in the kitchen. “You know how my girl hosts girls’ night every two weeks?”

“How could I forget?” you chuckled. “I missed the one two nights ago and your girlfriend’s really good at guilt-tripping.”

“Yeah,” he trailed off with a tender smile. “yeah—uh, she wanted everyone to be there.” Your own smile was knowing, a smidge teasing even and it was enough for Mark’s cheeks to pinken. “Anyways! One of the girls was painting my nails, right?” He wiggled his fingers, showing his mustard yellow painted fingernails with daisy decals, being the girls’ go-to mannequin every girls’ night. “Aeri brought up hooking up with Jeno a few times from like, a year ago, then it became this whole thing of the girls sharing their own experiences—and wow, you girls are just as gross with the details, like, for real—turns out, they all slept with him at some point! Crazy, right?”

“Even your girlfriend?”

Mark smiled, sheepish. Quite the contrast to your horrified expression. “They shared a gen-ed class. College sophomore year. She went to his frat’s party, they hooked up once and never again.”

“Please tell me the girls hated it at least.”

Mark’s jaw closed with a click, lips pressing into a thin line. “Y’know, I don’t think the word ‘hate’ was like, ever thrown around, honestly.”

Good lord—okay, so Jeno was kind of a slut then. A slut that had infiltrated your friend group (and fucked Mark’s girlfriend!) and left them unanimously agreeing that he earned his merit as an absolute god in bed. Go figure. This might as well be some divine force’s way of saying ‘go fuck yourself!’

“So I just have to live with it, is what you’re saying.”

“I mean…” His face twisted into an expression you couldn’t put your finger on and the nonsensical gesticulation didn’t provide any concrete context needed. Either way, you just knew you wouldn’t like whatever he says next. “If it bothers you that much, just find a new place. You’ve been here long enough.”

“In this economy?” you exclaimed. “That’s like asking me to kill myself!��

Not to mention drastic when you had already paid half of this month’s rent along with the other expenses—as did Jeno—and you really couldn’t afford splurging extra to get away from one minor—major inconvenience. Plus, you were pretty attached to the place.

Deciding on that was kind of a tempting solution, however. You had forgotten what it was like living alone after you and Mark thought to rent a place together post-graduation since you both agreed it was cost-effective, but if Jeno was smart enough to repent for his sins of stealing (sleep) from thy neighbor (roommate), you wouldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

“I should have stayed back and talked to Hyuck about this,” you droned, narrowing your eyes when all Mark did was snort at both your joke and your bias for Thing Number Two (Donghyuck). “He would at least agree that Jeno’s dick’s bigger than his brain.”

Which was farthest from the truth, actually.

Painful as it was to admit, the certificate of Jeno graduating from a joint program of Computer Science and Cyber Security as Magna Cum Laude was tangible proof that Jeno Lee’s brain was wired properly to some extent that It made your own certificate of graduating Cum Laude from your nursing program a bit lackluster. It was an inside joke you both shared; where your degrees and graduation portraits weren’t all that useless as they had been perfect for decoration.

All that’s left now was a sour reminder that Jeno got more bitches than you did every time you glanced up at the immortalized version of him. Looming above the flat screen TV with the effortless sweep of his hair and the sweet, canned smile he flashed at the camera.

While you spent hours to at least make it seem like you hadn’t been trampled on from the harrowing events of final exams, back-to-back practicals and soul-sucking internships, Jeno hardly looked like he had put in any effort—like an in-the-making supermodel taking his head-shots. His hair was in its natural shade of black, longer too with a subtle mullet going. Jeno looked younger, untouched by the trials and tribulations adult life granted anyone breaching that point and less like the sex fiend you would hiss at as a knee-jerk reaction.

The Jeno now fitted the latter description to a tee. This rugged look he’s got going on for him screamed trouble. He embodied what sex on legs meant as well as being the guy a god-fearing father would tell you to stay away from. 

Having said all that, you still thought that even hot people deserved to be humbled. Ever the one to talk shit about someone that had wronged you behind their back yourself, and Donghyuck was always a great shit-talking partner.

“Nice to know you still don’t listen to me. It’s like I’ve never moved out at all.”

“Maybe if you gave actual sound advice, I would.”

“Advice,” Mark parroted, following that up with a short laugh of disbelief. “you want advice? Okay, here’s one—avoiding Jeno won’t put a stop to this. Maybe all of this—whatever this is—could be resolved if you would just, oh, I don’t know, talk to him? Talk like proper adults would? Lay some ground rules or some shit, I don’t know.”

“I already did that! Many times, if you recall what we just talked about, and look where it got me.” 

Temporarily living off of the vomit green couch in exchange for better quality of sleep? Yeah, this was definitely a new low for you.

“Would you bail me out if I was charged for man-slaughter? I’ll pay you back… in a few years.”

“No,” was Mark’s immediate answer. “I’m being serious, babe. Just… talk it out, yeah? Jeno’s worried, texting me and all.”

Huh. Never would you have thought that ‘Jeno’ and ‘worried’ could be mentioned in the same sentence when you sampled just how much Jeno couldn’t give less of a fuck towards the deep lines you had repeatedly drawn, crossing it multiple times, but you supposed there’s always a first time for everything; like how this was a first for you not putting blind faith into Mark’s words.

“I find that hard to believe,” you groused.

Mark’s whole face then twisted into the very expression he’d wear when he’s about to deliver a mean lecture. Unfortunately for you, you had never been an exception to them and you were his best friend! It defeated the whole purpose of the label and the privileges that came with it and as you braced yourself for his god-given right of bitching at you, the sound of the keypad’s beeping made both of you freeze, the fight visible on Mark’s person gone once the automatic lock clicked in place as your faces blenched.

Not one of you dared to move as you listened to Jeno skulking around the foyer with bated breaths.

You could hear a pin drop when your roommate’s shuffling came to an abrupt stop. Then came the sharp gasp, the heavy rushed footsteps and there Jeno was in all his muscled glory; again, in athleisure and panting as if he ran a marathon just to see if his hunch was right.

“Talk to him,” Mark gritted before his face brightened with a capitalistic grin that would usually fool almost everyone and whirled around to greet Jeno with a dialed up amount of enthusiasm. “Hey, buddy! What’s up?”

Jeno was nonplussed by this, his gaze still stuck on you which granted a sinking feeling in your stomach when he didn’t do anything else. No smile, no nothing and Mark didn’t seem to pick up on the growing tension. That, or he simply just chose not to acknowledge it, making nice out of self-preservation.

“You look great!” It was kind of painful watching Mark acting as the buffer, yet unknowingly stall Jeno and the impending doom of talking to him. “Strong! You look strong—” as Mark said this, he gave Jeno’s bicep a friendly slap, only for him to reel it back almost a half second later with wide eyes. “Uh, well! I was just leaving—girlfriend’s looking for me so… bye!”

And there he went, leaving you to fend for yourself, but not before giving you a pointed look over Jeno’s shoulder that clearly said ‘fix this, or else’.

Or else, you huffed, Mark Lee couldn’t even hurt a fly—

“You’re home,” Jeno said, tone soft as ever despite the clear ire that was starting to bubble up to the surface from the way you caught his jaw clench. That didn’t stop your pettiness from taking over, however, making a sour face as you turned away from him to grab your favorite mug out of the cupboard.

“What an amazing observation,” you said with the same amount of excitement a school teacher would have if they were to be condescending. “Would you like a gold star?”

“I was worried,” and Jeno, ever the one to not rise to the bait shamelessly dangling right in front of his face, kept his voice even. “You left my texts on read. You didn’t return any of my calls.”

“Wow! It’s almost like I don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped, “‘worried’ my ass. You know damn well I left because of you, so you don’t get to act like I’m in the wrong when—“

Jeno cuts you off with a stern call of your name, like he’s had enough. Of what, exactly? As far as you knew, you were simply telling him the truth of the matter: he drove you away because one stubborn part of Jeno Lee refused to listen and admit that he was in the wrong.

Slowly, you twisted your neck to hit Jeno with the most chilling look known to man-kind as the familiar sensation of anger caused each of your muscles to stiffen. The one thing that kept you from tackling him to the ground was the abashed furrow of Jeno’s eyebrows and his downturned lips. He genuinely looked guilty. As guilty as a man could be from getting as much action as a blunt getting passed around a frat-party, but sadly for him, peace was never an option.

He could cry for forgiveness all he wanted and you’d only think of ways to make him cry even harder.

“Look,” Jeno began, eyes fluttering closed and breathing out a heavy sigh. “I just don’t understand why you had to go this far? Avoiding me for two weeks straight—I was worried,” he reiterated, eyes opening just for them to narrow accusingly. “I didn’t know where you were. Mark refused to tell me since ‘it wasn’t his business’—“ and honestly, if this were any other situation, you would have laughed at Jeno’s piss-poor imitation of Mark and the exaggerated air quotes. “—and I had to find out from Donghyuck, of all people, that you were staying with them!”

This was a first. Jeno was never one to completely lose his cool. Always the milder one between you both who knew how to keep his temper in check. Jeno was calm in every sense of the word, with placid smiles and solemn nods—composed even in the most dire of situations where tensions were high. A stark contrast to how you weren’t afraid of baring your teeth to let people know how you felt, swinging your emotions around as if they were a weapon.

Clearly, the Jeno that stood in front of you bore none of that. He was visibly upset—by what could be considered as ghosting him for two weeks straight, which would have been longer if Jeno had come later in the evening. You were starting to believe that the universe simply hated you to the point of cutting the streak.

You stayed quiet, letting your scowl do all the talking.

Jeno pinched his nose bridge. “I’m sorry I slept with Jimin, alright? It’ll never happen again if that’s what you want.”

“Oh my God,” you exclaimed as you shut the cupboard harsher than intended, moving to head for the coffee machine. He still didn’t get it and you’ll need the extra caffeine in your system for this.

“This is not about you sleeping with Jimin! This is about you crossing lines I specifically told you not to cross! How about you try having someone’s life in your hands? My job isn’t a walk in the park, Jeno. I need to be alert. I need to have my head set on straight, but clearly, I can’t have any of that because I have to hear you fucking the next person who looks at you! If any of my patients die, it’s on you. If I lose my job because I let a patient die, it’s on you—why won’t this fucking thing work!”

Your last straw might as well be the shitty coffee machine proving, once again, how shitty it was. You were half-tempted to unplug the thing and chuck it at his head.

God, you were so fucking angry. The two weeks away from home was the semblance of peace you had desperately needed after almost jeopardizing an angioplasty case with Dr. Jung when you caught yourself handing the wrong type of suture he asked for. It was only luck that you were stuck with one of the more approachable surgeons from cardio, letting you off with a lighthearted ‘wake up’ as Dr. Jung gestured for the right one.

Jeno reached over, pressing down on a button while tilting his head. “Are you done?” He said along the low whir of the coffee machine, evidently trying not to laugh.

The minty waft of his breath hit your face and it was then did you notice how close he had gotten. Your toes almost touching as you blinked up to meet his eyes, confused at how fucking fast he got all up in your space while you ranted.

You scowled harder. “Yeah,” and wow, you knew Jeno was one of the few lucky ones who grew to be tall. Height was one of the obvious physical advantages he had, but when put into perspective, having him like this—almost chest to chest—made a huge difference. You felt so small underneath Jeno’s imposing dead-eyed stare as if he was gauging his prey; a silent dare for you to make one sudden move knowing he’d catch you in the end after playing with you for a little, one way or another. “Yeah, I’m done.”

A small smile tugged on his lips. “Less work for me then.”

“Huh?”

Jeno dipped his head so quickly that it took you a second or two to register his lips pressing against yours.

Jeno Lee. The very same Jeno Lee you imagined exploding in your head too many times to the point you grew bored of the gory image enough to consider telepathically saying I hope you get chlamydia I hope you get chlamydia I hope you get chlamydia until it takes and manifests in real life, was kissing you. This was far from the initial possible outcome you would expect in light of the cold war wedging a gap between you that the backasswards had all higher functions of your brain—and possibly the one that had telepathy locked away forever—shut down when he angled his head to press deeper, as if to coax you into becoming an active participant.

The only options left for you to consider were: a.) kiss him back b.) kiss him back since it became crystal clear that whatever method of psychological warfare Jeno waged wasn’t worth stopping. For reference, option b was the obvious choice. The emphasis, the drama of it all complemented your own flair for dramatics and you would rather drop dead than let Jeno have the upper hand. And maybe because you were insane, choosing anything but resolving the issue with a proper talk, and good lord can the man kiss.

It’s his lips, you thought bitterly, lips of plump and petal-pink goodness melding against your own slightly chapped pair that rendered you uncharacteristically pliant.

Normally, you were anything but, though it was a little rewarding to know that Jeno was losing it just as much; the finesse to his methods gradually chipping away along the push and pull of your mouths with the delicious burden of his weight pressing you against the counter to have more than just a taste. A small window was open for some lucidity to seep in, that being Jeno’s forethought of wriggling a hand in between the edge of the counter top and your back so it wouldn’t jab at your spine as the other cupped your jaw, shuddering when his pinky brushed along a sensitive spot behind your ear.

Jeno smiled at this. You felt him smile at this, but you were still stuck on the oddly sweet gesture that you thought to show some gratitude by returning the same level of eagerness Jeno had, suckling and biting down on his bottom lip. At his whine, you promptly soothed the spot with a languid swipe of your tongue and did it all over again. Not that he minded. You could practically tell just how excited he was; all bricked up and prodding the softness of your belly, and he didn’t seem to be embarrassed by it at all. You didn’t think he would be when he had quite the package. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

There’s a wry grin tugging at his lips when you both parted for some air. “All I could think about was shutting you up every single time you bitch at me.” He regained the closeness just to brush his lips against your cheek, sighing almost in a dreamy-like manner that you were half-tempted to back out. “You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

“Don’t piss me off,” you settled on saying instead as a warning, yet let Jeno—taking it as a cue—lift you up and place you on top of the counter without any struggle that you didn’t even try to hide the fact that the display of Jeno’s raw strength was doing it for you. An infuriatingly attractive feat and you supposed your thought on the matter translated on your face well enough if Jeno’s cheeky grin was anything to go by.

Still, the spread of your legs was no less inviting, something Jeno found funny as he snickered to himself before taking the space in between them for you to wind your arms around his sturdy shoulders and pull him down for another kiss. Mostly to shut him up. Yes, definitely to shut him up.

Jeno parted from you again with an audible smack, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your waist. “Personally—”

You groaned, “oh here we go.”

“Personally,” Jeno tried again, ignoring your yelp when he gave a playful pinch to your skin. “I still think that you’re so pent up that everything annoys you—like me having a healthy sex-life, for example.”

This was it. This was definitely rock-bottom. You were finally in the trenches that you’re entertaining an actual conversation relating to Jeno’s fixation of sticking his dick into willing holes more times than you could count. Oh, and the fact that you were starting to become a little self-conscious from not getting any forms of sex on the regular unlike mister casanova over here.

You hit him with a dubious look. “Where are you even going with this?”

Jeno let out a low hum in lieu of an actual answer and pulled you forward as if he wasn’t already up in your space, the tip of his strong nose gently grazing yours, his lips doing pretty much the same thing too: a gentle brush against your own twitchy pair when he murmured, “don’t you want to let off a little steam? I can help. I want to help.”

And that rightfully stumped you. Not because it was the second time he propositioned you, with the first being more of a joke than anything, but how Jeno actually came off genuine this time around. Not a trace of the smugness could be found either. Just unbridled zeal that being scrutinized by the darkness of Jeno’s gaze birthed a familiar simmering of—horrifyingly enough—want beneath your navel.

There was an argument that could be made here. Where the stubborn part of you could simply claim that it was your curiosity coming into play—wanting to see for yourself if what Mark (and the girls) had said about Jeno was true; that there was a reason why Jeno’s roster was seemingly never ending. You could do that. Though, if anyone were to walk in right now, you didn’t think the compromising position would help in any way when you were quite literally entangled with each other.

Likewise, It didn’t really help that the wretched gremlin burrowing in the debased parts of your brain wanted Jeno Lee so much that you damn near salivated when the man bared more of his neck as a silent ‘go ahead’ for you to ravage the smooth skin with reds, blues and purples with your teeth. You’ve come to terms with the fact that you were attracted to Jeno that it honestly made you stupid enough to have a taste once the chance presented itself, surprisingly, without wishing an aneurysm upon yourself. 

But you weren’t going to give in that easily. You could just raise that having first hand experience with whatever Jeno had to offer was all for the sake of research and to prove your point.

That’s all that it was. That’s all that it will be; a case study for you. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jeno squeaked out his confusion when you ended up having his cheeks squished between your fingers and thumb right when he tried going in for another kiss, causing his lips to pucker out even more.

“What makes you think I’ll let you fuck me?” 

You dug your fingers into his skin harder as a warning when he tested his luck again.

It’s almost comical watching Jeno stiffen in your hold, making a show of gathering enough distance for him to look right into your eyes.

Then Jeno smiled something placid, yet the glimmer in his eyes told you otherwise. You felt so seen that you wanted to curl into yourself so he wouldn’t have to pick you apart with his steely gaze alone. In that moment, you were prey at the mercy of an apex predator just waiting to strike.

“Is that a challenge?” Jeno asked, even-tempered, irritatingly enough.

“And what if it is?” your fingers tangled themselves in the smooth dark blue strands and tugged gently. “Scared that you’ll lose?”

Jeno’s smile widened.

If there was one thing to take away from all of this, it was to never test the limits of a Taurus man’s patience.

Or else you’d end up in a position where your strength—or lack thereof—would be tested; or else you’d end up restless in between Jeno’s spread legs, one of his arms slung down the length of your torso as a seat belt and anchoring you down to his chest while three of his nimble fingers pistoned in and out of your sopping cunt. It was a fight with an obvious outcome of you losing by a landslide with his death grip around you, but you couldn’t help but squirm when he was so good at making you feel delirious just from his fingers making a mess of where you ached the most.

Fingers that were longer and thicker, reaching deeper than yours ever could. With Jeno, it took him no time at all to have you crying out from his digits nudging that sensitive spot within your silken walls, and the same fingers decidedly pulled out without any warning with an impossibly wet sound just for Jeno to switch his attention towards your clit, fingers flicking sideways in quick succession. This urged an immediate reaction, you letting out a shuddering cry as one of your hands shot out to lock tightly around his wrist.

Your head spun at Jeno’s gentle hushing as you twitched in his embrace. Tender words easily slipping past his full lips in conjunction with his almost rough treatment had your body wounding tighter and tighter as the divide between pleasure and pain gradually flattened to gossamer thin with each pass of Jeno’s fingers across your clit. 

He played you like a fiddle, like he knew exactly what to do in drawing out a pleasure filled song from within you until the barrier ripped, sobbing wetly into the air as you and your resolve shattered into pieces with Jeno’s constricting hold around your quivering form kept you from breaking completely.

When you came to, Jeno’s voice was the first thing you latched onto, bringing you back to full lucidity; gentle as he talked you through what was probably the most intense, toe-curling orgasm from being finger-banged on the couch, of all places.

Jeno breathed out a mixed noise of surprise and amazement. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

And it was when you felt the familiar warm and wet trickle from your pussy down to your ass did you finally let the humiliation set it: you’ve let Jeno finger you on the couch, soaking his shorts and the couch as evidence.

You wanted to die.

“Yeah, well, It’s not like I tell everybody I can,” you panted, hissing when Jeno’s hand curiously trailed down to assess the mess, middle and ring finger slipping between your vulva then dipping shallowly into you and rewarding himself with a whine. Uncomfortable as it was to move your neck at this angle, you wouldn’t miss the chance to glare at him. “like—‘hi! I’m this and that, and I can squirt!—do you know how deranged that sounds?”

“I dunno, I know I‘d be impressed. Intrigued. Maybe even ask for a demo—”

“Jeno.”

“Kidding! I’m kidding,” Jeno snickered as he retracted his fingers, only to stick them into his mouth with a pleased hum, like it was the tastiest thing he’s ever had in his life. “What?” He asked, muffled from suckling on his fingers still, when he caught you gawking at him, completely mortified by the shameless sweep of his tongue around his digits.

You wanted to cry. “You’re a fucking freak.”

“Oh princess, this is nothing,” Jeno finally freed is mouth of the visual torture, a broad grin stretching spit-slick lips when he, again, took in your visceral reaction towards being called princess. He’s so annoying. You verbalized the thought and the fucker just laughed. “Call me a freak again when I ask you to soak my face,” he said, voice sweet, wincing slightly when he held your cheeks, with damp fingers and all. Freak. “Or would you like it better if I beg instead? I’m flexible. I’ll do anything you want.”

Never mind, that was much much worse. Holy fuck. The visual in your head did nothing but spur you on even further no matter the aftermath of a thigh shaking release taking its effects now.

“Stop talking,” you groaned. “please, just shut up.”

“Okay.” Jeno giggled. Giggled, like he wasn’t an insane person delighting himself to your bodily fluids just a few seconds ago. Then to add insult to injury, he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “Think you can go another round?” 

So he made you cum once—squirt, for that matter, but that’s, like, whatever when you were capable of doing that on your own. You had plenty of time figuring out what you liked best in this realm of preferences and for all you knew, Mark was simply fucking with you—just like the other girls probably were—as some sick elaborate joke, and Jeno was simply overcompensating for the sake of his ego with their help.

“Just… give me a few. I’m starting to go deaf.” Well, not really. It felt more like there was cotton stuffed into your ears, your own voice sounding muffled and faraway. Although you weren’t new to the feeling, it wasn’t common either and it was especially new that another person was able to render you into this sluggish version of yourself.

He sucked in a breath. “Was it that good that you’ve gone temporarily deaf?”

Other than that, then came the numbing of your scalp. You’ve read about this once, a product from genuine curiosity after a little moment of freaking the fuck out, thinking you were about to die from cumming too hard to the point of losing circulation up there in your brain. And—no you weren’t dying, though it would be an interesting way to go.

You followed up with this just as the blunt edges of his fingernails lightly scratched at your scalp. “I literally can’t feel that except a slight pressure—and don’t get too cocky. This happens to me when I get myself off too.”

Jeno didn’t get even a second of gloating before you started rambling about the possibilities of why this happens with a basic rundown of the nervous system (rapid increase in heart rate and blood pressure) and completely disregarding the stiff outline of Jeno’s pride pressing snugly into the cleft of your bare ass cheeks.

He felt just as hard as he was when you sucked faces in the kitchen. Warm. Big, that you had no idea if the shakes you were getting now was out of fear for Jeno’s cock potentially rearranging your guts to the point of no return, or out of anticipation from that possibly happening. Though what was more shocking was Jeno maintaining some sort of chivalrous streak, staying where he was and putting your pleasure first before his own when he could pretty much turn the tides and have his way with you.

But like a dog being told to stay for a promised treat, Jeno doesn’t do anything, besides soothing you with absentminded caresses here and there while he listened.

At least that’s how you thought this slip in judgment was going to end right until Jeno picked you up in one fell swoop, abruptly—and rudely—cutting you off from the build up towards a detailed spiel of a hypothesis to instead let out an undignified yelp of surprise. He hauled you up without any visible struggle and it was doing horrible horrible things to your psyche.

“Seriously, Jeno,” you exclaimed, grunting when he wrangled you onto your knees, your chest pressed down onto the coffee table as if you were nothing but a doll he gets to twist and bend for his own entertainment. “Were you even listening?”

“Uh huh—something about the temporary effects of an orgasm to the nervous system,” he trailed off at the same time his fingers grazed your skin while rucking up your pullover, just high enough that you shivered against the cool glass surface. “I’ll be honest with you, Human Biology wasn’t exactly interesting to me, but the little science session was cute.”

The glass was doing wonders in cooling down your cheek.

This was the second time he has called you cute. So casually too that you started to think that maybe Jeno had a thing for embarrassing you, see you squirm, whine, make a fool out of yourself—overall, make your life more difficult than it already was.

“Dick,” you quipped, all too weak to actually mean it and Jeno seemed to get the memo, offering a short laugh. “do I have to fit a certain criteria to do this in your bedroom?” you followed, mustering up some strength to glare at him over your shoulder, only to falter when you found Jeno was rather preoccupied with something else.

It’s no secret that Jeno was simply born with a resting face so sweet and unassuming that there was this perceived notion of him not having a mean bone inside that clean-cut body of his. That Jeno wasn’t capable of dishing out noteworthy comebacks aimed at the ego. 

Sure, he could be unaware at times (as per his loud sex problem), but you couldn’t deny the simple truth that Jeno could be nice—is nice. So nice. Sweet even, that the expression crossing his face was just as honeyed and becoming more so the longer he stayed kneeling there, raking his eyes over your half-naked form bent to compliance. It wasn’t the blatant leering that got to you though, but more of how Jeno looked doing it. Who knew the mole smack dab in the middle of your back could be adored this much?

There’s a faint smile tugging on his lips. Miniscule, barely there—still a smile, nonetheless, as he traced the length of your back with his eyes, his large hands essentially doing the same: mapping the entirety of your torso for his own indulgence until he got his fill; warm palms gluing to the soft dips of your waist, all the while his face twisted where it gave the impression he was seeing what was front of him for the very first time.

You looked away, face hotter than it was before.

Whatever that was seemed too private of a moment to witness. It felt intimate—the way his eyes drank in your body—too intimate for a ‘one and done’ thing that you seriously couldn’t wait to get fucked and put an end to this hands-on case study of Jeno’s whore-ish tendencies.

“So no bedroom, then,” you said, hoping it would snap Jeno out of it.

“Sorry, princess.” And, to be fair, Jeno did sound apologetic for a man that was about to get his dick wet for the umpteenth time. You gave him points for trying, then docked off some because princess. Really? “I don’t think I can make the trip to my bedroom. Need to fuck you now or else my dick will fall off.”

You closed your eyes, dropping your chin forward far enough that your forehead met the glass surface with a dull thunk.

So much for thinking he was sweet during a moment. It’s like the more he opened his mouth, the more he inched away from the polite friend-of-a-friend gym-bro who probably helped grandmas cross the street.

“Ugh—fuck you.”

“Mm, yeah.” You stopped counting the last time you had fallen into bed with someone else, and you were starting to think that it has probably been a while; if the brush of spandex against your skin from Jeno fumbling behind to drag his shorts just low enough for his cock to spring free has you completely losing it. Jesus, this was embarrassing. “You’re about to.”

You scoffed, “corny.”

Jeno didn’t deign the cattiness with an answer and instead let his growing impatience speak for itself, kneeing your thighs further apart and shuffling closer until your sharp intake of breath pierced through the once still air when the sticky head of his cock prodded at your hole.

“Any time now.”

Trying to sound unaffected was truly a Sisyphean task. You couldn’t help it, really. Being snarky came natural to you, though if Jeno could tell you were just talking your shit to cover up your impatience, he did nothing about it and went about with teasing you, dragging his length back and forth against your slit.

“I’m literally becoming dryer the longer you keep this up.”

That got a reaction out of him this time, letting out an incredulous laugh, “there’s no way of shutting you up, is there?”

“I don’t know, you can try hard—” whatever else that was supposed to follow immediately died at the tip of your tongue, gasping at the sudden intrusion.

“Oh! Well that’s one way.”

Another version of Jeno in your head just died of spontaneous combustion. You could literally hear him smile. Smiley bastard.

It was intense for sure. As intense as it could be after a stupidly long dry spell that you genuinely felt as though you were reborn a fucking virgin and made the mistake of picking the very guy with a third leg for a dick to pop your cherry. If the head of his cock breaching your pussy had you this frenzied, who knew what the actual thing could do to your actively deteriorating sanity? And—well, you were about to find out, weren’t you?

The reality of it all hit you like a freight train, the groan Jeno breathed out sounded so loud even over the mechanical drone of the air conditioner when he pushed deeper into you.

“Jen—oh my God—wait—” You reached behind to grab onto Jeno’s ass cheek at breakneck speed. A grave mistake, really, because in what you would hope could have stopped Jeno from basically splitting you into two, you unintentionally helped him plug you up. Your nails dug into his flesh as a result.

“Careful with the claws,” he hissed. “They actually hurt.”

“Yeah?” He yelped when you squeezed his ass tighter, his own hand holding onto yours to stop you from doing actual damage. “Try getting impaled by a dick, dickhead.”

Jeno went rigid. “You’ve had sex before, right?”

“Yes?” You looked at him like he was stupid over your shoulder and—all gods above. He already looked fucked out. Cheeks pink, skin shining with sweat (when did he take his shirt off?) and eyes darker from how blown out his pupils were—you know, maybe you weren’t too far off from the thought. “But unlike you, I don’t fuck the next thing that breathes my way.”

“Wow,” Jeno huffed. “Clearly I’m doing something wrong if you’re still running your mouth.”

You had a long history of letting your mouth run before your brain could even decipher if what you had to say would be ideal for the situation. To get out of it, though, was a completely different story and with how things are unfolding, yeah, maybe you bit off more than you could chew.

“No, no—shh, it’s okay. You're okay,” Jeno soothed just as you squirmed, trying to relax. “You're doing so good for me. Just breathe, yeah? Jus’ a little more—oh, fuck.” The guttural groan coincided with the squeak you let out once Jeno shoved himself balls deep into you with a faint slap of skin, clenching around him.

Out of all the men you’ve been with in the past, it took you the longest to adjust around Jeno’s girth. Not only because you simply did not have the time to fuck around, but he really was huge in the sense that he was somehow hitting places that you didn’t even know were there. He truly was the biggest you’ve taken in a while and it was a relief that you had the day off tomorrow and the day after; plenty of time to recover. The thought of having to explain getting railed over your coffee table to the point you were walking funny was mortifying enough as it is.

“This is so much better than hearing you bitch and moan, seriously. Sometimes I start thinking you just want me to hate you.” Jeno didn’t look like he was capable of hating anything if he tried, though with the way his hips drilled mercilessly into you, maybe a tiny part of him could. If pushed right. “And you complain so damn much about the noise when you’re no better. Can you hear how fuckin’ loud you are now?”

You didn’t even realize Jeno was still holding onto the hand that seemed to permanently glue itself onto his barely-there ass cheek until he took your joined hands—fingers laced and all—to migrate beside your head. Right in front of your face and, somehow, it felt like an insult.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Jeno Lee,” you moaned and squeezed his hand at a particularly hard thrust jostling you forward. “Fuck you and your useless big dick.”

Jeno snickered. You still called him big, so he’ll take that as a win. “My dick is one of those things and it’s not useless.”

Jeno didn’t really mind how loud you actually were. In fact, he liked it. A lot. Liked hearing how good he was making you feel with each drag of his cock within your warm and slick insides. Liked knowing that he was the reason why you were so lost in your own song of pleasure as you fucked back onto him with all you’ve got when he stopped all his movements to see what you would do and goodness, were you a sight for sore eyes. And Jeno was glad to witness all of this.

You were truly a fantasy come to life. Something he’d never would expect to touch, to mold and to feel in his own hands.

Watching you take what you wanted with no complaints was not an expected outcome—hell, having sex with you wasn’t what Jeno was hoping to get from tonight at all. Talking would have been just fine, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Of course not. Not when you were putting up a show, fueled by your own greed for pleasure, for him and him alone and he could tell all that pent-up stress was starting to seep out the more the back of your thighs met his.

Jeno was a patient man for sure. He was known for it at work. When it came to his diligent daily visits to the gym just two blocks away. When it came to living life in general; yet somehow, you were part of the minute collective that was able to test that until there was nothing left of it and as much as Jeno loved seeing you like this; desperate enough for cock that doing all the work was no problem, he quickly grew bored being a spectator.

There was also you threatening the safety of his skull if he didn’t get a move on to fuck you harder. Jeno only let out an amused snort at this, thinking it was cute and leaned forward so you were chest to back.

“I hoped for a second you’d be begging,” he mumbled into your nape. “you’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Fuck me, or I’ll make sure you’ll never get to fuck anyone else ever again.”

Well.

You did make a compelling argument, and just like how this all went, Jeno followed and delivered.

It was made very clear to you that his muscles weren’t just for show because unlike you, he possessed an insane amount of core strength that it barely dented his stamina when he lifted you up a couple of inches above the coffee table. Your joined hands came in clutch for balance while his free hand acted like a necklace loosely wrapped around your throat so Jeno could kiss you as his hips regained momentum.

Kissing gradually became less of a thing and more of just you both breathing into each other’s mouths, completely taken over by the sheer pleasure of it all. Normally, you’d avoid his eyes if you could, but you were so far gone that you didn’t mind staring into the endless pits of Jeno’s hooded stare. His thrusts slowed down, yet they were more deliberate than ever that it took all of your leftover energy to not say anything stupid like how this change in angle and pace had Jeno plunging in so deep that you could almost feel him in your throat.

“‘m close,” he rasped, hand on your neck tightening a smidge as his movements steadily increased in speed. “How about another one from you, huh? On my cock this time?”

You could only sound a shaky hum and that was enough of an answer for him.

Heated and damp skin met the glass surface once more and Jeno’s cock snugly fit inside of you again with little to no resistance. It was almost the same as how you started out. The only difference was your navel pressing firmly against the table by your still joined hands pushing down onto your back.

Time wasn’t wasted at all and that change alone fully intensified the sensation of Jeno’s girth drilling into you like he was trying so hard to carve a space that he could only fill, even more so when you wriggled and squared your hips to take him in better. It made so much of a difference that your eyes rolled back into your skull as mindless pleasured noises spilled past your lips, your grip around his fingers growing tighter that it hurt your own.

The second wave of your orgasm encroached at a dangerously fast pace from the oversensitivity earlier and the consistency of Jeno’s perfectly timed jackhammering thrusts hitting the tender spot within you, forcing out tinny ah ah ahs out of you as you clenched around him from how mind-numbingly amazing this was, being underneath Jeno’s weight.

It’s been too fucking long that the delirious part of your brain, completely compromised by the rush of dopamine and oxytocin from cumming for the second time entertained the idea of keeping Jeno buried in you long enough until your insides molded around each ridge and vein of Jeno’s cock for the perfect fit. You’ve never felt this full in your life. Even the frantic pistoning of Jeno’s hips aided by the wet gush of slick didn’t shatter the illusion. The feeling of cotton stuffed into your ears came back tenfold.

“Close,” Jeno rasped. “Where—where?”

“Pull out,” you said, all too winded to add that you were on the pill, but you didn’t want to take your chances. Apparently the tension was that bad that none of you had the forethought of using a condom. Your minds were so clouded that critical thinking was impossible, but what’s done was done.

Jeno pulled out with a slick sound, followed by a shaky moan that grew louder and louder with each stroke of his cock, leaving you to whine from the loss (wow, you were so out of it). Warm cum splattered onto the sweat-damp skin of your back and for once, you didn’t have the heart or energy to complain about the sticky mess

Click.

Your eyes shot open. “Did you just take a photo of me?”

“Yeah,” Jeno said. “You look good like this. Pretty. Wanted to have something to jerk off too.”

He could have just stopped at pretty. “You’re gross. You aren’t going to show that to anybody else, are you?” 

“Don’t worry, I don’t like sharing and I actually value my life.”

You could only groan in response, sagging more against the now moist surface of the glass as if you were trying to merge yourself with it, feeling the after effects of Jeno trying to fuck the life out of you.

“I think I’m going to die.”

Jeno responded in kind with a sweet laugh, letting go of your hand. It didn’t even register that you still had your fingers intertwined up until he let go, and tempted as you were to lift yourself up and see what kind of face he was making now that he left his mark on you, you were genuinely too exhausted to do that.

“That good, huh?” His hands returned to your hips, squeezing them gently. “I told you so.”

With the last bit of your strength, you kicked at his thigh.

“Okay, let’s get you up.” He swiped his discarded shirt up from the floor to wipe away the cum before lifting you up by the armpits so you’re on your knees, settling your weight onto your calves as he watched your pullover delicately fall into place and cover up most of your skin. Your own name on his tongue sounded so far away to you. “—hey. You still with me?”

There’s a hum as a response and that’s it. Not only did he end up fucking all the stress and tension out of you, there goes half of your life, too. Gravity took over and you fell right into his chest with your head cushioned by his bare shoulder, eyes glazed over.

“How does a bath sound?”

You nodded, letting your eyes slip closed as Jeno adjusted your slumped form to carry you.

Jeno almost jumped out of his skin when your phone rang.

“Hello?” Jeno said quietly after scrambling for it on your side of his bed, looking over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t woken you up. He didn’t think you had granted him the perk to simply barge into your room just yet, so he had you clothed in one of his sleep shirts and a pair of new boxer shorts as you dozed away.

“Jeno? Why do you have her phone? Did you kill her before she killed you?”

“No.” That made him worry. How often did you tell anyone who’d happily lend an ear that you’d murder him in cold blood? Whatever, hopefully after tonight, things will smoothen out. “She’s asleep right now. She won’t be heading back over there tonight.” Or ever, he thought.

“Oh?” Jaemin sounded excited for a second, then turned suspicious. “Why? Did she forgive you yet?”

Jeno let the question marinate for a moment, weighing the benefits of letting one of the nosiest people he knew in on his business. A loud snort followed by some mumbling startled him and Jeno craned his neck to find you now facing his side of the bed, still asleep with your mouth parted in a darling little ‘o’. There’s drool at the corner of your mouth. You’ve never looked cuter.

“Define… forgive.”

For once, Jaemin, surprisingly, was rather quick on the uptake “Oho? You two fucked it out, didn’t you?” When Jeno didn’t answer right away, Jaemin gasped. “Jeno, you dog!”

His cackling caused Jeno’s cheeks to flush an impossible red. “Don’t make it weird!”

“You made it weird the second you decide to sleep with her. Besides, we’re all adults here! I promise I won’t tell my third unofficial roommate“—Jeno wished he could reach through the phone right now and choke the life out of him—“that you told me. Tell me everything. Down to the nastiest detail—Hyuck! Oh my God, you’re home just in time. Guess what—“

“I’m coming by and getting the rest of her stuff in a bit.” The whining fell deaf onto Jeno’s ears. “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

He hung up, gently sliding your phone underneath the pillow you’re using. Actually, maybe you'd let him in your good graces if he went to fetch your charger.

Just when he thought peace and quiet had finally been attained, his own phone started buzzing from an onslaught of messages.

Hyuck: U GUYS FUCKED????? Hyuck: WITHOUT ME??? Hyuck: NO FAIR 😭😭😭😭

Jaemin: OR ME??? Jaemin: spare coochie plz 🥺🤲🏼

Hyuck: was there a tape at least 😔

Jaemin: 👀

Jeno: I hope she kills you both when I show her these.

Jeno set his phone to ‘Do Not Disturb’ and tossed it carelessly onto his nightstand.

This was not your room.

With each toss and turn, it still smelt like man, which wasn’t completely awful. It’s a rather pleasant scent; fresh, not too overwhelming on the citrus notes and something woodsy and floral binding everything together. A little too summery when it was currently in the middle of autumn, but you supposed you were in no position to judge when you’ve been using the same perfume since high school.

All in all, it was still nice. If not a little off-putting, not waking up entangled in your linen sheets which was starkly different from how your usual mornings went, yet the exhaustion was what kept you from making a huge fuss. At least Jeno's room didn't harbor the aesthetics of anything from the r/malelivingspace subreddit. Jeno's room was rather nice. Clean. Neat. Evident that a man lived here.

Apart from the abrupt change, there was also the bone-deep soreness serving as a heavy reminder of the aftermath of your decision to sleep with the very same person who took it from you.

And how ironic that he was also the reason why you slept so well last night too.

What a way to end your so-called case study with you as the punchline, really and—fine, maybe Jeno did have the room to boast his admittedly exceptional stroke game. Maybe Jeno knew how to make people cum and it was a fluke that he made you, too. Twice. Maybe Jeno earned his merit of being an expert in the field of sex then.

Your lips wobbled, frowning at Jeno’s ceiling.

This was literally the worst discovery of your life. Being a test subject yourself to see if Jeno’s reputation had preceded him didn’t make it any less horrifying. How could you return to normalcy after this?

You buried your face into one of Jeno’s many pillows and screamed.

Luckily, he hadn’t caught wind of your morning breakdown.

After freshening up in the bathroom, you quietly made your way towards the spacious kitchen, assuming it’s where Jeno was, albeit slowly as each step you took made the ache in between your thighs more pronounced. He had his back to you, bare of anything besides the tight boxer briefs and the frilly pink apron shielding his torso from the splattering oil cinched around his waist.

Jeno Lee painted the very picture of temptation in this current moment. Jacked all to hell, complementing his god-like proportions that showed off his slutty waist women alike would die to have and a striking face that could start wars. But out of everything, your gaze lingered on his barely-there ass wondering if your nails did leave any stinging marks that Jeno would feel for days.

“Oh, hey. You’re up—were you staring at my ass?”

From his behind, you immediately stuck your eyes onto something else less suspicious—like the geometric light fixture just above his head you once hoped would knock him out one day.

“No I wasn’t,” you said, keeping your voice even. “Can’t stare at anything that isn’t even there.”

“Hey!” Jeno whined. “I do have an ass!”

“And I have a dick,” you shot right back and made your way towards where the shitty coffee machine was. Just a few paces away from where Jeno stood. “See how easy it is to lie?”

He sighed. “How come you have an answer for everything?”

You cracked your first smile of the morning. Smug, if anything, but a smile nonetheless. “You just make it so easy.”

“Damn, so even the sex wasn’t enough,” Jeno muttered as he flipped a pancake with an effortless flick of the wrist. “How many rounds will it take for you to forgive me?”

“Zero.” If looks could kill, Jeno would have burst into flames by now. “Is sex all you think about?”

“I can think of other things…” he trailed off, giving you a quick glance with a sweet moue on his lips. “most of my thoughts are of you, so…” Jeno turned to you fully, his eyes gaining a hopeful shine.

That shocked a short laugh out of you in spite of yourself, shaking your head as you marched for the cupboard. “Nice try, big guy—and the sex?” You shot him a quick glance over your shoulder. “You can forget about it.”

“Okay.”

You looked at him again. Jeno was now frying eggs with his face devoid of everything but concentration.

“I still hate you,” you added, loudly.

The sunny side-up eggs slipped cleanly onto a large plate. “Mhm.”

“It was a one time thing.” Somehow his lack of a reaction was slowly getting to you. “It’s not happening again. Ever. I’m not having sex with you again. Ever.”

“Yeah, I got you the first time.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Perfect.” You harrumped, making a quick grab for your favorite mug before coming face-to-face with your stupid ass coffee machine.

This was not your stupid ass coffee machine.

What sat in place of the old piece of junk Granny had given you as a housewarming gift (after expressing her concern for your possible caffeine addiction) was a newer model you were pretty sure most, if not all, lifestyle influencers had displayed in their meticulously curated coffee corner. This was built mostly for convenience and to fit into the current trend of aesthetics, no wonder you couldn’t get it to work last night. Muscle memory had you pressing the wrong button.

Slowly, you pried your trembling eyes from the brand-spanking-new replacement to watch your roommate in his element, completely unaware of you currently going through the greatest shock of your life, and back.

You looked closer. There was a Post-It stuck onto the side.

I’m sorry (.◜ᯅ◝) — your asshole roommate.

Jeno bought you a new coffee machine.

“Hey Jen?” you called softly after a full minute of inner deliberation.

Jeno hummed his acknowledgement. He even fried the bacon just how you liked it. There’s no way you couldn’t forgive him now. You were mean, sure, but you weren’t evil. Why did he have to be so nice?

“Can you show me how the coffee machine works?” Then, just as quietly, you added: “please?”

He turned to look at you with the most brilliant smile as he killed the fire.

“Yeah. Of course.”

Mark (ER): so did you two talk yet Mark (ER): ..hellooooo Mark (ER): did you kill him 😟

You: no? tf

Mark (ER): so u guys r good now or

You: 👍🏼👍🏼

Mark (ER): omg TWO thumbs ups 😀 Mark (ER): are u bffs now ??? Mark (ER): i was here first btw

You: go bother ur gf omg??????

a/n: *taps mic* ...hello is this thing on? First things first, thank you so much for reading until the end! Originally, this was supposed to come out as a full one-shot, but life has been all sorts of crazy that I simply haven't had enough time to work on this fic as much as I would have liked to. And upon realized it has been so fucking long since I've posted the teaser, I decided to just split it into two parts to get something out, so I truly apologize for the very long wait! I do hope you enjoyed the read and please please let me know your thoughts on it <3

bonus of me going thru it in our chat lovingly named 'en-ct':

TAGLIST: @jaylaxies @hoondrop @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk @learnthisfeeling @90s-belladonna @rjreins @pinknjm @kshynj @dorkyji @notevenheretbh1 @everytimeicrymytearsdonteverdry @iscocohere @seulkikiii @wintahh @peachesmilk @rxnexxi @rum-gone-why @bluedbliss @tiramisubox @jinxxdreamz @minkyuncutie @txnml @yawnzshit @suhwife @carelessshootanonymous @sanctify-mp3 @haechansbbg @dreamiestay @ryuvrsie @derywinkle @byungbyungbaek @surrealxox

[imagine-you]

If I Open the Door to Heaven or Hell [Wally/Reader]

Summary: You're there for Wally after he confronts his scar. Word Count: 1.8k Author's Note: Just a little thing I wrote after I watched the new episode this morning. Because what do you mean he went through all that alone and no one was there for him? He deserved better. If you liked this, letting me know would make my day! Read On AO3 // Fic Masterlist

When you noticed Wally grab his football, you knew that he was going to investigate his scar to see if Mr. Martin was there. He didn't tell anyone. Not even Maddie. But you saw it happen, so you followed him.  

He was so focused that he didn't even seem to realize you were following him. It shouldn't have hurt. You had spent your life treated like an outsider, so going unnoticed wasn’t a new feeling. You just hated that your death wasn’t shaping up to be any different.  

Even though you had been half in love with Wally for years, he never seemed to get the hint. He joked around with you and threw his arm around your shoulders to reel you in close to his side and gave you these ridiculous smiles that sent your stomach flipping over itself. He was so bright and thoughtful and beautiful. All you wanted was more time with him. You would take an eternity with him, even, but once Maddie showed up, everything changed.  

You were all dragged into the mystery of Maddie's death. But it turned out Maddie wasn't dead. Not really. Janet had been the one to steal her body and Mr. Martin, the guy you had all trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets had been using you all along.  

The betrayal hurt and now everyone was hiding something. But not Wally. He was the rock of the group, lending support and care to anyone who needed it. 

But now, you all had the items that linked you to your deaths and they opened up your own personal hells. Rhonda had been completely shaken by what she saw in hers and you weren't quite ready to face whatever waited for you once you stepped into the girl's bathroom on the second floor near the pre-cal classroom. 

The fact that Wally was skulking away to be tormented by his death just didn’t sit right with you.  

You wanted to stop Wally. But he was so determined to help Maddie that you knew you wouldn't be able to sway him.  

He got to the football field before you did and once he stepped onto the grass, football tucked securely under his arm, he disappeared.  

"Wally!" You called, glancing around for him, but realizing that he wouldn't be able to hear you. He had stepped through a door and you wouldn't be able to follow. All you could do was wait for him and hope that he made it out unscathed.  

You sat down on the bleachers, keeping your focus on the field. You waited for him to reappear, but when he didn't show, you just started talking to fill the empty space in front of you.  

"Wally, I hope you're doing okay in there. I don't know what's happening, but I want you to know you're not alone." You started tracing your fingers along the grooves in the bench beneath you. "You're really the best out of all of us, you know that? You're so kind. You take care of all of us. You have our backs. And I know you'd do anything for us. I guess that's why you're facing your own personal hell just to help out Maddie. But sometimes I wonder who’s there for you. Who’s going to hold you up when you need it?"  

You felt nervous. You trusted Wally and you loved him, but you had never revealed to him just how deep your feelings ran for him. Sometimes, you thought Charley or Rhonda might have an idea, but they never brought it up. Whether it was to save you dignity or they just didn't care all that much, you couldn't really tell.  

It was hard not to be stupid over Wally, though. He drew you in and you were helpless against the pull of him.  

"Sometimes, I get really scared," you admitted, digging your fingernails into the metal just to ground you. "I get scared that you'll leave. I don't think I can do this without you, Wally. Not anymore. You're too important to me. I need you." 

Wally still hadn't appeared, so you kept rambling. It felt freeing, in a way, finally confessing when Wally couldn't catch you.  

"I think the first time I knew that I was gone on you was when you found me in the library. I was upset because it was the anniversary of my death. And for three years, my friends and family showed up to hold some kind of vigil. They would meet on the front lawn and share stories and talk about how much they missed me. That first year, seeing my mom and dad there nearly broke me. My best friend and my little brother and all of them. They showed up for me. But then my friends graduated. And my parents moved. And then no one showed up."  

You felt tears gathering in your eyes and hastily swiped them away. If Wally managed to leave his scar now, you didn't want him seeing you so upset.  

"They always left flowers at the flagpole, because they didn’t want to go anywhere near where they found my body. And my friend wrote a letter about how much she missed me and my brother left his favorite stuffed animal. It’s that orange squid I have stashed away in my old locker. But by that fourth year, I didn't have anyone left around to care about me and I felt so alone. You found me in the library and you dragged me out to the flagpole and showed me the flowers you stole from the groundskeeper and you wrote a letter about how I still mattered even in death. I didn't tell you then, but I think that's when I finally started believing that I would be okay. Because I had you," you added with a shaky smile.  

"I don't know what's going to happen to us. But I just want you to know, Wally, that as long as you're around, I know I'll be okay. And I would do anything for you too. I want to be there for you like you’re there for me. For all of us. Because you're the best person I’ve ever met. And I...I lo--" you were cut off from declaring your feelings for Wally by the sight of him suddenly reappearing at the side of the field.  

He collapsed to the ground, clutching the football to his chest. He was breathing heavy and he flung the ball away, leaving him curled up on the grass. He put a hand to his chest and his breaths were coming fast and uncontrolled.  

"Wally!" You shouted, racing down the bleachers to reach him. You hesitated at his side before seeing the agony in his expression. You dropped down to your knees and wrapped your arms around him, fearing that he was drowning in his own fear.  

You weren't expecting the way he practically latched on to you. His arms wrapped tight around your waist and he hid his face in the crook of your neck.  

"Wally?" You tried, realizing that he was shaking. "Are you okay?" 

Wally didn't respond. He simply shook his head, and you held on tighter.  

"I'm here for you," you assured him. Wally was always so strong. So ready to fight and defend. But whatever he had witnessed in his scar had left him speechless and traumatized. "I'm right here. I’m not going anywhere." 

Wally held you close, his breaths eventually evening out from panicked to steady.  

"I heard you, you know," he muttered into your neck after what felt like forever. He still hadn't lifted his head and you got the idea he was trying to hide.  

You tried not to shiver at the feeling of his lips brushing against your skin.  

"Heard what?" You asked, worried that you knew where this was heading.  

"I couldn't get myself out of there on my own. My coach and my mom and everyone was just so disappointed in me. I didn't want to be there but I couldn't make myself move. When I died, I didn't know it happened. It was over in a second. Just boom. Instant lights out. But I saw it happen and it hurt so much," he got out on a shaky breath. "I was about to lose it, but then I heard you. And you were talking to me about how much I meant to you and all I could think was that you're not disappointed in me." He finally lifted his head, his eyes locking with yours and leaving you transfixed. "I followed your voice out of there. You saved me." 

"Wally, you saved yourself," you said, bringing up a hand to smooth it down over his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. "You're the strongest person I've ever met. You've never been a disappointment. That coach and your mom? They were wrong. You’re amazing." 

Wally watched you for one moment into the next, leaving you with the urge to fidget under his attention. Finally, you noticed a small smile pull at his mouth, his eyes glinting with a hint of life. "Don't hate me," he murmured before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours.  

You felt yourself tense, unsure that this was actually happening, before you felt Wally begin to pull away.  

"Wait," you whispered before grabbing a fistful of his shirt and reeling him back in.  

This time, the kiss was less hesitant and more searching. You never thought for one second you would get this opportunity and you didn't want to waste it.  

Wally had pulled you closer, practically putting you in his lap, so when you broke the kiss, you leaned your forehead against his and smiled at him.  

"You really think I would hate you for that? Wally, it's what I've been wanting for years," you admitted, knowing that Wally had likely heard your aborted love confession. You might as well go for broke. "I've wanted you for years," you confessed.  

Wally's lips stretched into another smile. This one was radiant and relieved. He brought his hands up, framing your face in his palms, and held you close. "I think this is the first time I've been on this field since I died and felt anything good." He bit his lip, his eyes searching yours, before he nodded his head as if he had decided something. He moved to stand up, gripping your hand tight in his so you followed after him. He started leading you away from the field towards the bleachers, taking a moment to scoop up his football, before leading you away.  

"Where are we going?" You wondered, trusting Wally and knowing you would follow him anywhere.  

"I think I've earned something good," he told you, his gaze lingering on you letting you know that you were the something good he was talking about. The idea sent a little pleased thrill through you. "Want to go make out under the bleachers?" 

"God, yes," you agreed, delighted and exhilarated.  

You knew that the time would come to find the others. Wally would have to talk about his scar and you would eventually have to confront yours. But for now, you would push all the pain and fear aside and finally let yourself have something good with Wally. 

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

THIS IS PART TWO. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART ONE.

☼ wc ; 16.8k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

☼ synopsis ; you spend the next four years of your life pining miserably and trying to get over your first love. it all comes crashing during the year you turned twenty-one, fresh out of a break-up and forced to reconcile with your estranged childhood friend.

PART TWO: LIGHT MY WAY BACK HOME.

Freshman orientation seems less like an orientation and more like a social gathering.  

You’re not really sure why you didn’t think of that. This one is being held by seniors in your department, so you figured they’d talk to you about things like majors or clubs or general campus life.  

The presence of alcohol and cigarettes after only thirty minutes is what alerts you of your doom. You’re screwed.  

For many reasons and in many ways.  

For starters, you’re all the way out in Hokkaido, which is a 19 hour trip from your hometown. You don’t know anyone at school except that one alpha you keep bumping into, and more importantly - you wouldn’t know of any good ways to excuse yourself to leave. You don’t even know where to go if you did.   

Secondly, you’re really not interested in drinking again. At least, not for now. The memory of Bachira is strangely fresh despite it being over a year since, and you’re afraid a drop of alcohol is going to make you spiral out and humiliate yourself in front of your peers.  

Third, most of the people here seem at least somewhat acquainted with each other. From the introductions at the start, there’s only one other freshman here and he’s already friends with a bunch of people. On top of that, he’s the rowdy alpha type you have a hard time with so you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do other thank stick to the wall and hope for the best.  

You text Miki-chan as you sit in the corner. Were you always this poor at socializing?  

After a few minutes, someone comes and plops themselves next to you. You’re mildly startled by her presence, jumping in your skin. She smells sweet,  a mix of overripe mango and something floral. You startle as she crowds in your space, eyes widening.  

“You’re the new freshie, right?”  

You blink at her then nod. She’s extremely pretty and not entirely Japanese which is common for this campus. “Uh, yes. Nice to meet you…”  

“Hira,” She says easily  

“Nice to meet you, Hira-senpai.” You bow.  

“Oh, how formal! Sure, call me that if you want.” She moves in even closer. You feel your heartbeat skyrocket and feel thankful you’re wearing a scent patch. “You looked a little lonesome in the corner, so I thought I’d come save you. First party like this?”  

You’re surprised. “Is it obvious?”  

“Mm, not really. But I can tell at least. I’m good at reading people. And I was interested in you,” 

You stare at her as she leans against the wall. Long lashes, dyed hair, full lips and a scent so intoxicating you could drown. You feel flush just looking at her, attracted to her undeniably. The look she’s giving you is making you a little delirious.  

Your eyes go wide. “Sorry?”  

She beams but doesn’t repeat herself. “Are you a beta?”  

“An omega,”  

You feel her nose brush against your covered scent glands and feel a jolt up your spine. “Oh, you are. You smell good.” 

You blink slowly, hesitating. “Thanks.” 

“Which way do you swing, then?”  

Is she… hitting on you? Then again, she could just be the touchy type like Bachira.  

“I prefer omegas. I’ve never dated an alpha seriously.” But I was in love with at least one.  

Her eyes light up. “So you swing both ways, or at least you like omegas. Good. My radars rarely wrong. Ever been in a relationship with anyone?”  

“Just for a few months in highschool.” You admit.  

“Right. Got any experience then?”  

She’s…  

“Uh, not really no. Kissed and stuff but that’s about it.”  

“Eighteen, no experience, and into other omegas…that tracks. You’re not having much fun at this party, either. So, how about…” You feel her hand on your thigh and nearly choke on air. “We change all of that in one go?”  

You feel a little guilty. You’re not sure what you should be doing. You never really thought about losing your virginity when you were in school for obvious reasons, and thought of it even less so when you were with Bachira. It’s not like it’s of incredible importance to you. Is it something you should let go of easily? Does it matter?  

On the other hand, are you ever going to have a beautiful omega girl older than you offer to take your virginity and it not be an illusion? You’re not really sure if it’s possible. And you’re a lot of things, but you’re not a eunuch. Some part of you hopes it’ll get your mind off of Bachira.  

“I really don’t know what I’m doing, just as uh. As a prerequisite.” You say stiffly.  

“Are you a quick learner?”  

Your breath hitches. “Yeah,”  

“Then you’ll be just fine! Sooo… wanna get out of here?”  

Shit. “Uh, y-yeah.”  

“Great!”  

She grabs your hand, hauling you up and dragging you along with her. Some of the seniors in your department shoot you a look like they’re impressed and you’re not sure if you should be mortified or flattered. “Taking the freshie with me.”She turns to someone who’s name you don’t remember. “Don’t wait up! And don’t come home either.”  

Said friend sighs. On the way out, you hear them ask around about sleeping over and feel a little guilty.  

__  

She tells you about herself on the way to her place. A short walk from campus, you spend most of it wondering if you’re in some kind of dream. Hira-senpai is mixed but she’s grown up in Sapporo for most of her life.  

Half-north indian and half-japanese. Tan skin, brown eyes, and long hair - something about her looks straight out of a dream. She holds your hand on the way to her apartment and talks to you so casually it makes you feel like friends. She’s good at conversation in a way that’s familiar to you, reminds you a lot of Bachira no matter how much you hate making the comparison.  

Most of all, she’s an incredibly attractive distraction. She’s just a touch taller than you but she’s got long legs and nice assets, with curves in all the right places. She’s toned too. She dresses nice and smells so good. Has all the flair of an omega that makes your heart race.  

Once you get up to her apartment, she wastes no time in getting you into her bedroom.  

Kissing someone with the intention of having sex is different than whatever you were doing in highschool. Hira is well practiced in how she touches you, strips you naked, admires you. 

She’s aggressive with you but you don’t mind. You end up in her bed faster than you thought you’d be. She kisses with with tongue, teeth nipping at your lips and neck as she whispers to you all sorts of things about likes and dislikes. You learn how to use your mouth and how hard to suck, and smooth your tongue along her scent glands in the ways to turn her on.  

You find you don’t mind touching her. You like making her feel good. She gets wet for you and talks to you sweet. Intoxicating, you let her play with you as she pleases without words of complaint. You make her cum once, then again because you like how she grips onto your hair. Her praise is nice when you make her cum. It feels good when she returns the favor even though you feel embarrassed the entire time.  

You fuck until sunrise and sleep in her bed. When morning comes, you find her wrapped around your with your body covered in unfamiliar nips of teeth. She tells you to stay for breakfast.  

You feel like you walked the stairwell to adulthood a little too quickly. But it’s the longest you spent not thinking about the past 

So you stay with her. You sit up and open your phone.  

(sent 9:34am) just lost my virginty to my omega senpai. uni is weird  

9:35am: You have 24 new notifications.  

__ 

[ NINETEEN ] 

“Do you wanna become club manager?”  

You shoot a surprised glance at Satou-kun, one of your only alpha friends on campus and captain of your university soccer team. You’re currently in the club room, reviewing footage of their opposing team before they start training for the inter-collegiate tournaments.  

This is a favor you’re doing for Satou-kun as a part of him helping you find board and housing all the way out here. Your current university had been your last choice despite being incredibly prestigious as a result of extra-curricular and exceptionally good marks for years of highschool.  

 You were supposed to be staying in a dorm room but there was some trouble in the office and no space left in the omega-beta dorms for you to stay at.  

You met Satou-kun crying outside of the 7/11 near your campus, dropped down to your knees in pre-heat distress. Satou is from the countryside. A big, lumbering 6’4 alpha who apparently can’t leave people alone in times of need, especially not crying omegas. He bought you a meal and helped you find room and board temporarily before later finding you an apartment near campus.  

In short, you owe him a lot. Insistent on paying him back, you’ve spent a lot of time helping out their soccer team doing this and that. Once, off-handedly during their practice, you’d helped one of their other team mates out with their dribbling and have since then become a psuedo-member.  

You don’t really have any interest in soccer. Or at least, you didn’t for the first eighteen years of your life. Maybe it’s because you’re so far from home, but there’s something about seeing them play that feels familiar and fulfills an old itch.  

Still, you’re not really expecting the offer. You’ve only known Satou-kun for a few months and you’ve known his team for even less.  

“Uh. I’ve never been a sports team manager, so I don’t know if I’d be any good.”  

“Seriously?” He sits next to you in a chair backwards, pushing his hair back with his hand. “You know a lot about soccer though?”  

You swallow. “A friend—sorry, an old friend of mine plays. My nii-san did too but that was way back. I’ve just been around it a lot.” 

He gives you a long look, brushing past the very obvious shake in your voice. You like that part of him, you think. “I think it’s fine. The team likes you. You’re meticulous and do well under pressure.” He takes a drink from his water bottle. “Plus I think the guys would be more motivated with a pretty omega manager. At least they’d wanna impress you.”  

You blink. He says it so neutrally you almost don’t catch it.  

“Thanks?”  

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just an observation,” Satou says, shaking his head. “I think you’d be an asset to the team. There’s no one else who can mediate with coach like you can.”  

Your lips twitch in the ghost of a smile. “That’s true,”  

Your thoughts end up at Bachira as you consider the offer. Lips furled into a frown, something heavy weighs on your heart. You’ve gotten better at not letting him consume your every waking thought. Being busy has helped. But soccer is the one thing that reminds you of Bachira most. You’re not really opposed to being manager. You just don’t know if it’ll be too much. You’re not enough of a masochistic to say yes without hesitation. The painful, constant reminder of him through being manager just feels overwhelming.  

You haven’t seen him in nearly two years, except on T.V. or in the news, doing exactly what you thought he would. You’ve put so much effort into getting over him but it feels like you’ve hardly made progress.  

You sigh.  

“Can I give you my answer later? After I consider it more?”  

“Sure. If it isn’t too invasive though,” He leans into looking closer. “Can I ask what’s making you hesitate? I’d guess it’s that childhood friend but,”  

You blink in surprise. “Yeah. That obvious?”  

He shakes his head. “Got a nose like a hound, granny always said. Could feel the change even with the strong patches and inhibitors.”  

“Ah,” You look down at your lap. “My friend and I had a pretty bad falling out. Think it was two years ago now, but I’m just worried it’ll bring up bad memories.”  

“You cared about him a lot, huh?”  

You aren’t sure what brings you to say it out loud. “I was in love with him. Basically my whole life.”  

It’s the first time you’ve ever said it to anyone. It doesn’t feel as horrible as you expected.  

“Was he an omega?”  

You give him a humorless smile, shaking your head. “An alpha.”  

He blinks in realization before nodding.  

“Must’ve been someone special then,” Satou scratches the back of his neck. “I can’t tell you I understand it but you know. Maybe being our manager can help give you some better memories than what you left with. With time.”  

“I know it probably sounds ridiculous. Two years is a long time.” You reply back. 

“Huh? Hardly.” Satou looks at you directly when he speaks. “Don’t force yourself to get over it. I know you’re the worrying type, but sometimes it’s fine to just let things go as they are.You have to keep living your life right?”  

“Right,”  

“So don’t think of it in negative terms like getting over it. Do it if it’s something you might want to do. If it gets too much I’ll support you as captain or let you leave. You can make new memories here. It’s an opportunity, that’s all”  

You give Satou-kun a small smile. “Satou-kun…you’re a good guy. You’ll find a good wife.”  

“You sound like granny,” He says. “If you’re ever interested in becoming farmers wife in the country side, you’re always welcome to take the position up.”  

“Are you joking?”  

“No.” He says, standing up. His tone is unreadable. “You’d be good at it. You’re strong with good attention to detail so I think the work would be easy for you. Plus you’re after a quiet life, aren’t you?”  

“This is a bad proposal,” You deadpan, shaking your head. “And most omegas would be pissed if you told them they look good to work on a farm.”  

“It’s a compliment.”  

“This is why you’re not popular.” You retort with a small chuckle. “If I ever decide to marry an alpha and give up on everything, I’ll find you. For now, I’ll have to decline the proposal. But I’ll accept becoming manager.”  

Satou-kun claps your shoulder. “Eh. I’ll take it,” Your eyes meet. “If you change your mind on either thing, just let me know.”  

“Of course. Thanks, captain.”  

“Anytime.”  

__ 

“Are you sure you want this?”  

Hira-senpais roomate, Shinohara, busies himself with sterilizing needles. You glance at yourself in the mirror in their bathroom, red-rimmed eyes making you feel pathetic. You really want something to do.  

Drink, smoke, something. But you’re not trying to start on using substances when thinking of Bachira since you’re sure it’ll kill you. You just need the distraction. The game is still playing in the background in the other room, so when you hear the channel change and feel thankful to whoever shifted it.  

You rub your eyes with the end of your hand, voice hoarse. “Yeah. And I’m gonna get a tattoo.”  

“You’re still this hung up on that kid? Whatever his name was,” He snaps his fingers. “Bee boy.”  

You huff. “Yeah.”  

“Have you tried dating other people?” He suggests.  

Shinohara pours rubbing alcohol onto something before wiping your ear with it on both sides. It’s cold and makes you shiver. “No. Never been interested,”  

“Don’t you think it’s about time you get interested?” He uses a marker next, placing a dot carefully before assessing it. He repeats the process on the other side. “I mean, if just seeing him on T.V. is enough to do this to you after all this time… You barely react to anything, like a damn stone statue. Yet, here you are.”  

“It’s not just that,” You sniffle again. Shinohara-kun gives you a disbelieving look in the mirror, shaking his head. It’s not just the fact you saw Bachira, but that you keep seeing him exceed your expectations. In news magazines, in articles, in ads for sports drinks. What broke you was seeing him on the news after seeing him earlier in a magazine for the greatest talents to come out of Bluelock, with speculation in his potential to become the greatest striker alive.  

You’ve done a good job not thinking about him. You even got used to the press when you went to your hometown and saw him plastered on posters. But it dawns on you he’s still living his dreams and he’s not even twenty yet.  

And you play no part in them. You bite your lip trying not to cry.  

“I’m not piercing you if you keep shaking,” Shinohara says with no real bite. A gloved hand wipes your tear. “So toughen up, brat.”  

“Stop calling me that. You’re only a few years older than me,”  

“Stop acting like one and I’ll consider. Now take a deep breath. It’s gonna hurt pretty bad, alright? If you jolt I’m gonna kill you.”  

“Stop worrying about me.” You sniff, wiping your nose. “I’m fine”  

He rolls his eyes. “Then count to three and take a deep breath.”  

__  

[ TWENTY ] 

“I’m home!”  

Your face is cold from the winter air as you step inside. You shake off the snow from your body as you wipe your face, exhaustion settling in from the long travel. It’s not your first winter break home but even after two years you can’t get used to the distance  

You leave your bag and luggage at the door as you strip out of your jacket, hanging it on a nearby hook. You sigh in relief, mind drifting off to thoughts of sitting in the kotatsu and warming up while you let your brain rot from television. You only have so many days break before you have to travel back to Sapporo. You glance at the shoe rack and notice a single pair of loafers. Your parents are probably grocery shopping. You always have hotpot the day before New Years.  

There’s only one other person that leaves. You raise your voice louder as you call out again.  

“Nii-san, I’m home.”  

“In the living room,”  

You stretch your arms over your head, sweater sliding over your stomach as you walk into the living room to see him spread over the couch watching something on the T.V. Looks like some kind of comedy variety show.  

“Hey,”  

You make a noncommittal noise, beelining to the kotatsu in the center of the room, sliding yourself underneath with a long sigh. Nii-san laughs behind you.  

“Still snowing?” 

“Got worse in the last hour,” You prop your elbows on the table, laying on your arms with a loud yawn. “My bags wet so I left it in front of the door.”  

He hums as the two of you continue to watch T.V. in comfortable silence. You feel his gaze on your back for a while before turning around slightly to look at him. “What are you looking at?”  

“Did you get your ears pierced?”  

You blink. “Yeah. My helix and upper lobe on both sides.”  

He stares at you for a long while after you tell him, leaving you confused. It’s rare you see your brother these days. He’s twenty-nine this year. He’s scruffy, face prickly with hair and hair grown out longer than normal. Eyes squinted, you feel his hand pull at the collar of your sweater before peering down at your back.  

“When did you get a tattoo?” 

Surprised, you pull away from his grasp frowning. “Same time I got my piercings.”  

“What for?” 

“I just wanted to get them,” You say, fidgeting with your. 

“Well, it’s fine.” He says after a while, voice softened. His hand comes up to your head, patting it like you’re a kid again. You squirm away from the touch and sudden affection. You don’t know if you’ll ever properly figure out what’s on his mind. “You’re such a goody two-shoes kid a little rebellion won’t hurt. Kaa-san’s gonna freak over the tattoo though.”  

“I won’t be here long enough for her to find out I don’t think. And even if she does, it’s not like I can get it removed now. It’s usually covered up enough that no one noticed.”  

“I saw it cause of the way you were sitting, so don’t worry about it.” He says, patting your shoulder. “What’s the tattoo of?” 

You frown, turning away with a flush. “…A bumble bee on a kuroyuri flower.”  

“A bee huh? Should kill that stupid brat.”  

“Nii-san!” You shake your head. “I already told you the fight was my fault. Don’t use it as a reason for your grudge, okay?”  

He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re twenty right?”  

You nod. Nii-san grabs a beer from the plastic bag besides him, cracking the top open before handing it to you with a long look. “Here,”  

You take the beer from his hand and take a drink from the top, malt hitting your lips and warming you up from the inside. “…Thanks.”  

“If you’re gonna go out of your way to defend him even now, just text him and make up already,”He says, shaking his head. “The piercings, the tattoo… all that was to get over him, huh?”  

You feel embarrassed. Was it that obvious you were hung up on Bachira this way? He always had a weird sixth sense about things, so maybe not. “It doesn’t matter.”  

He sighs. “It does matter. If you care this much, there’s no way it doesn’t. Don’t be obstinate and figure things out with him.”  

“Even if I could do that,” Which I can’t, ever. “He’s rarely home anyways, and I don’t want to have that conversation on the phone. Plus, he’s probably forgotten all about it.”  

“You’re a smart kid but sometimes you’re so oblivious it makes me feel bad. Was it because you’re sheltered? You have no common sense.”  

“Hey!”  

“I know you’re just being careful but there’s no need to this extent. You two were attached at the hip for almost two decades. There’s no way he’d forget even if he’s a famous soccer player right now. Just make up with him.” He says, then sighs before giving you a serious look. “But seriously don’t marry him. I’ll kill you both.”  

“I told you he likes alphas.”   

“And you like him, despite liking omegas, right?”  

You make a noise of indignance “That’s different,”  

“It’s not. I don’t care about him but don’t be a coward. You’re a lot tougher than that as is and it doesn’t suit you at all.”  

You turn your eyes to the T.V. pretending to watch it while deep in thought.  

You don’t know. It’s been three years since you and Bachira stopped being friends but the wound doesn’t feel any more healed than it did last time. There are longer stretches of time in between that you can without feeling like the world is collapsing underneath you, but you’re not over it despite your best efforts. Maybe it’s true you haven’t truly tried hard enogh. Your last conversation was messy at best, a rushed outro to a life long friendship without any real closure.  

But you don’t think you’re owed closure. What’s more, you don’t even know what you’d say. There’s both so much and so little you want to tell him.  

I’m proud of you. I’m sorry. Who takes care of you now that I’m gone? Do you miss me as much as I miss you? 

But how do you have that conversation? You’ve never been good at being upfront with your feelings. You keep to yourself, keep your head down, and get lucky to be around people who do it for you.  

Even if you were to get closure now, could you handle it? You were never under the impression Bachira could love you, but at least now you can be open about it. At least now, you can tell people when they ask you about love and confess it like some sort of sin. The first time you told Satou-kun that truth, it felt like a weight had finally been unburdened. To become friends again now would mean you bear that silence of that again while you try to fall out of love, or you confess to it him and make things hard on you both.  

You don’t want either outcome. You just want Bachira to be your friend. And you want things to be easy. You’re not seventeen anymore.  You have school, work, clubs - things that you still need to be present for.  

You can’t handle the heartbreak of that loss twice. It’d kill you.  

Maybe, someday, when you’re really over it - you’ll reach out to Bachira as friends. Another two years so it’s been at least five, and you’re closer to graduation than you are to highschool.  

For now though, the idea of seeing Bachira again is painful at best and stupid at worst.  

“I need more time,” You reply after a while. “To get over it more. I don’t want to meet him when I’m still this… emotional about it.”  

Nii-san sighs, over you. “Fine. If you say so. Drink your little heart out over it but when the time comes, dont’ miss your chance alright? Promise me.”  

“I thought you didn’t like him.” 

“You little—just promise.”  

“Fine, fine,” You fall forward again on your kotatsu - waving a dismissive hand. “Promise.”  

__  

“I can’t believe my favorite heat partner went and got a boyfriend on me,” 

Hira-senpai slides herself across from you in the booth in front of you. You glance up from your laptop just barely too greet her as Shinohara joins the both of you. Shaking your head, you take stock of your surroundings quickly. The cafeteria at the bottom floor of the  mathematics building is still just as empty as it was when you came in.  

“Where did you two just back from?”  

“A seminar thing for senior capstone.” Shinohara answers. You make a short ahhh sound before continuing on with your typing.  

“Don’t just ignore me, both of you!” Hira insists. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  

“Stop announcing that we have sex so loudly and I’ll consider it.”  

“Fine, fine. I just can’t believe you got confessed too and you said yes! And you only told me through text!!”  

“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t even on campus so I couldn’t tell you in person.”  

She pouts, dipping a fry into ketchup as she props her elbows up on the table.  

“Whatever. I want details!”  

“It was that huge omega guy on the soccer team, right? What was his name again…?”  

You furrow your brow. “How do you know that?”  

“I know everything.” He says seriously. You roll your eyes.  

“Yeah it was. Takahashi-kun. He confessed to me as soon as I got back from visiting home over winter break in the club room. Gave me flowers and everything.”  

“Flowers? What a serious guy. Are all the soccer club guys like that?”  

You grimace. “I think all soccer players are predispositioned to have something just a little wrong with them. Him being chivalrous is fine, all things considered.” 

“Hm. True.”  

“Sooo, did you just say yes right away? That’s super unlike you!” 

“Huh? No, of course not. I told him upfront that I’m still getting over someone so I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” You say, typing away at your computer. “But he said he didn’t care and wanted to date me anyways.”  

“What a weird guy.” Shinohara hums thoughtfully.  

“He’s that into you?!”  

You nod. “I guess so. I asked why it had to be me and he said something I didn’t catch. Just that he thought I’d be a good partner and accept an omega like him. Which I guess is true.”  

Shinohara chuckles. “You sound so enthused.”  

You shrug. “It’s not like I lied. He’s a good guy, I know that. And I mean. Not like I have anything to lose. You guys are the ones telling me to try and move on.”  

They both say “True,” at the same time, making you shake your head.  

“So you’re gonna date him seriously?”  

“I’m gonna try,” You reply with a long sigh. “I really just want to move on.”  

__ 

You date Takahashi-kun for a year.  

It’s a good year, and a good relationship.  

He’s good to you in all ways that matter. He still believes in old timey traditional of courting and courts you like an omega might an alpha despite you not being one. Brings you food he’s made and other handmade ornaments. He’s taller than most omega men. A little over six feet and muscular with a sharp jaw but the roundest, brownest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

Often, he asks you if you’re fine with him. Comes into your arms and weeps into your neck, scent sweet like fresh cream as he apologizes for not being cute. Takahashi is more omega than you are. Shows submission and pleasure in the textbook ways you see only in books and pornography. He’s kind and doe-eyed and timid. He’s easy to talk to. He’s attractive. Sharing heat together always feels pleasurable and warm. 

Alphas like him. Mostly alpha women. And you like Takahashi too, while you date him. He’s tender and thoughtful - easy to read and easy to treat well. The relationship is never something worthy of complaint.  

Which is why you break up with him before you leave for winter break the next year.  You explain it  all to him and feel incredibly disheartened when he cries. Takahashi is the poster image for what makes a good omega. And because he is so good, so kind, so caring - it’s unfair to continue to be with him when you know you can’t grow to love him the way he loves you. 

If a year in your ideal theoretical relationship can’t be enough to cauterize the wound of your heartbreak, there’s probably nothing else that will except time. Even hysterical, you relay all of this to Takahashi as best you can. You don’t regret being with him, because he’s taught you plenty of things. 

It’s because he’s taught you so much that you’re able to break up with him at all instead of remaining comfortable and impassive. Because you know the depth of another persons unconditional love and because you also grow to love Takahashi. You love him in a different way than he loves you, and you leave because it’s unfair. It’s the first year of your life that has felt long and meaningful since you and Bachira parted ways four years prior.  

So you split with him, and tell him everything on your mind. And because Takahashi is a good person who loves you unconditionally - it hurts you both, even though he accepts. He asks that if someday, you think you might change your mind to call him. He asks to be friends.  

You promise to him both, and then tell him again that you hope someone better will be there for him and that you love him even if it’s not like that.  

The day you break up with Takahashi, you have to take a train ride three hours long to get to the airport where you’ll board a short flight, then make the hours long venture back to your hometown.  

You’re fine for the duration. You don’t cry often anyway. It’s fine until your phone buzzes with the notification that F.C. Barcha has won a tournament match and will proceed to the next World Cup Qualifiers.  

And then, like clockwork, you sob into your hands on an empty train - heart so full of longing you could nearly throw up.  

You think, breaking up with Takahashi-kun was the right choice.  

You think, I miss him.  

You heart doesn’t name who exactly you miss. That name is written all over it anyways.   

__  

[ TWENTY-ONE ] 

For the first few days of your winter break, none of your family is in your house for you to hang around.  

This is something you’ve always been used to. Your parents have been on a trip in Kyoto and won’t be back until after new years and nii-san is working a lot of overtime until about the same. You have a copy of your house keys so you have a place to stay, and you’ve made some shrine plans with Miki and Sasaki since you’re back home.  

They’re both still busy until the thirtieth though, so until then you have nothing to do.  

Today is the twenty-sixth, the day after Christmas. You’re home early since all of your classes finals lined up in the short-span of three days. It was stressful but you’re thankful for the extended few days that allowed you to go home early.  

Yu-san has insisted you spend some time with her instead of being by yourself. You always spend a day or two at her house during your winter breaks and have since you left for college. After your eighteenth birthday, it just felt like the right thing to do.  

You bring her something every year when you visit, and sometimes you stay over night. She treats you like her own, and fills you in about Bachira from time to time.  

In honor of upholding tradition, you decide to go see her a little early this year. Before you enter the familiar and cramped space of Yu-sans apartment - you always buy her a nice bouquet of flowers, a box of sweets, and an expensive bottle of sake. You have a gift for her too, some souvenirs from Hokkaido like always.  

You stop by your house first to drop off your things and lock up before walking the short distance to your childhood friends home in the winter air.  

You’ve been too often to knock after all, instead opting to text Yu-san and let her know that you’re there. You wait outside until she responds, giving you the go-ahead. 

yu oba-san (sent 9:57pm): the door is open but i had to step out for  a bit. make yourself comfortable.  

You gather your things up in one hand and tucking the flowers carefully in your arms to open the door. Your bag of gifts and drinks lands on the floor with a soft clunk as you set it down besides you, balancing flowers on the small cabinet near the entryway. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it, you force your feet out of your winter boots, eyes searching around for the right pair of slippers.  

When you go to put your boots up on the shoe rack, you notice that there’s an unfamiliar pair of sneakers. You notice it too late. Mens sneakers. 

 A faint scent of burnt honey.  

You shake your head trying to shake the thoughts away. The likelihood of it being Bachira is so slim you wonder why you’re considering. The match for F.C. Barcha took place in Spain. It takes a day of travel to get to Japan, so you guess it’s possible. Even so, you think it’d be more likely he comes during New Years. It’s not guaranteed he’ll have enough time to even come home every year. He did two years back from what you know but not since then.  

You gather your things again. First the small bag you keep your personal stuff in, then the bags you’ve brought for Yu-san, and finally the flowers in your arm.  

You decide against announcing yourself since you suspect you’re the only there. 

Except you’re not.  

The whole world feels like it’s collapsing underneath your feet to see Bachira in flesh, tucked into the couch of his childhood home the same way he used to when you were kids - with both legs folded up and his chin resting on his knee.  

A shock of yellow hair, eyes gemstone gold and a stronger scent. Bachira. Meguru. 

You startle and think of what to do. What excuse you can make. How you can tiptoe your way out of the room and catch the breath that he steals away from your lungs.  

No such luck. Bachira is perceptive as always, noticing you before you get a chance to slip away.  

“Oh,” He murmurs. He’s taller. Just a bit, you think. “It’s you,”  

Your heart is thudding, blood rushing to your ears and face as you stare at him. You can barely feel your legs, weakness in your knees nearly making you buckle. Frozen stiff in place, you blink once, twice before nodding. You force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.   

“Uhm,” You don’t know what to do. “Yeah. I came to visit Yu-san.”  

He nods back.  

“She told me I should come over as soon as I can.” Bachira says. He feels unfamiliar. His hair is longer, but styled up and his ear lobes are pierced. He looks so much older yet so much the same. “My team mate dropped me off with his jet so I made it in a day.”  

Ah. Was it planned? She’s like your nii-san in how much she wants you two to reconcile. “Makes sense.” You flounder. Awkward silence falls so you try to come up with anything to say. Your hands are sweaty. “ Uh..Congratulations on your win, by the way.”  

He looks surprised. “Do you keep up with soccer these days?”  

Just for you. “A bit. Out of habit, I guess. And I’m the soccer teams manager at uni.”  

Surprised, he blinks in silence for a while.  

 “Oh. Well,” Suddenly, he beams. It’s no doubt forced and it breaks you into a thousand pieces though you try not to let it show on your face. Try not to let the omega part of you whimpering for approval too obvious. He smiles at you “Don’t be a stranger on my behalf! You should put your stuff down and sit. We should uhm..catch up!”  

You make a face at him that you know is pained, but nod anyways. The tension in the air is so thick as you slide to the other side of the room, putting the flowers and other gifts on the kitchen counter.   

Four years. Four years. How are you supposed to act?  

“Uh,” You call from the kitchen, hoping the nerves in your voice aren’t obvious. “Do you uhm, maybe want something to drink? I brought alcohol and I think there’s beers in your fridge.”’ 

Your eyes meet from the living room to where you stand behind the counter. He shrugs, giving you a lighthearted smile.  

“Mm. My nutritionist might get pissed but whatever! Why not you know? A beer would be good, thanks!” 

You nod and try to do the same - keeping the conversation as light as you can. You repeat that it’s fine like a mantra.  

“Is beer not too bitter for you? I bought chuhai cans. There’s a pineapple flavor,”  

The question is innocent enough to you, but you realize seconds later the intimacy of it. Four years or not, you were Bachira’s friend your entire life so it’d be weirder not to know and even weirder not to at least ask. It’s an extension of courtesy no matter how unnecessary, and plus - you’re known for being a little too obsessed with the details.  Bachira prefers sweet things and likes canned pineapple. You’re sure you picked it up out of habit.  

When you look up at Bachira, he looks nearly ready to cry. It startles you so much you jolt out of your skin. He turns away. “Haha…You remembered,”  

A pang of concern makes leaves you standing in place. There’s no way you would’ve forgotten. “Oh uhm. Sorry. Is that weird for you?” You explain, trying not to overstep any boundaries. “If me being too familiar is making you uncomfortable then—“  

“It’s not that,” He insists seriously. “I was trying to keep it together but I can’t after that,” He lets out a loud sob suddenly. Your eyes widen. Several waves of emotion pass over you at the same time. “I missed you…hicc, why would you remember that…sniff,”  

You soften, shoulder slumped with endured longing.  

“I missed you too,” 

“Liar,” He hiccups again, crying in full hysterics this time. You shuffle back to the living room to join him on the opposite side of the couch, placing the bag of drinks on the coffee table and reaching a hand over to squeeze his knee. “You haven’t talked to me in four years. You didn’t miss me at all but you remember something so dumb. You’re always like that. You’re so….”  

You frown. Does he really think you didn’t miss him?  

“It wasn’t like that,”  

“Then explain it to me now! Hasn’t it been long enough…dont you…!” He exclaims, pulling his hands from his face. You can’t contain your surprise about the reaction though you understand it completely. You feel similar. You’ve convinced yourself the entire time that any relationship you had with each other was completely one-sided. Assuming he would move on fine without you now that there were people in his life he could call friends. Still, it’s so unusual to see evidence of it not being true. “You never explained anything to me you just..” He sniffs “Left me. I thought you didn’t care anymore but…”  

His display of genuine sadness makes you feel horrible.  

You press your lips together in a thin line, reaching into the bag for a tall can of beer and cracking it open before having a drink so it numbs your nerves.  

Your stomach is twisted up in a knot so tight you kind of feel sick. There’s no way around the conversation now. You can’t bear to see him cry so much, so you should at least clear up the understanding. 

 Leaned forward, elbows on knees - you keep your eyes focused in front of you, keenly aware of Bachira adjacent to you on the couch wiping his eyes.  

“It wasn’t that I didn’t miss you, I just uh,” You swallow a lump in your throat until it smooths out. “I just have stuff I want to get over before we could be proper friends again. I wanted to reach out to you a lot. It wasn’t like I stopped caring about you after we fought,”  

“You hated me for lying to you and being an alpha right? Wasn’t that what you had to get over in the first place?”  

Your eyes go wide. “No, uh. It’s complicated. I didn’t uhm, hate you for lying about it. I was shocked sure but you are—were my best friend. I did distrust alphas for a long time and I still don’t really like them… but it didn’t matter to me. I told you then too but I didn’t hate you it was just,”  

You chuckle nervously, running your thumb on the rim of the can. “It felt wrong to keep being your friend. Not knowing something so basic. The fact you felt like you couldn’t tell me. It was more like I was too ashamed to keep calling you my best friend.  

“You… Really?”  

You nod. “And uh, I didn’t want to reach out to you again until i got over some personal stuff.”  

“You big dummy,” He wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve. “It wasn’t like that at all…. Even back then, I knew you wouldn’t have hated me just for being an alpha,” He hiccups another sob. “I was just so scared you would that I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you would start treating me different and we’d stop being close if you found out I wasn’t an omega. You’re such a good person, how come you think of yourself like that? Why do you think…hicc”  

“Sorry,” You mumble, unsure of what to say.  

It feels like a great weight has been lifted up off your chest.  

“Stop apologizing, dummy. Stupid.”  

You give him a wobbly smile.  

“What did you have to get over that you couldn’t talk to me for four years?” He huffs. “If it wasn’t me being an alpha, what was it?”  

Your eyes widen, heart rate picking up so rapidly you can only pray he doesn’t hear it. You swallow spit, teeth sinking into your cheek. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.  

You’ve thought about this conversation before hundreds of times. Often. How it would go, what you would say if you ever got the chance to say it. But having the opportunity to confess right in front you makes it all feel hundreds of miles away. 

Your mind has filled in the details each time with it going so badly. Bachira’s face, disgusted with you or otherwise unsettled always sears itself in your psyche so strong you  bite your tongue. You always found him a little unsettled by you in you thoughts. Disgusted with you for liking him so much even knowing he’s not into omegas. You don’t want your own cowardice or misunderstanding to get in the way of being honest with him after so long. 

You would’ve waited two more years to even speak to him had you been given a choice. But now with him in front of you, how could you possibly do that? It’s the universes way of ripping the band-aid off, you think. Such a tricky outcome can only being ordained by faith.  

“Well, I uhm, I was—am, in love with with you. Since we were kids so uhm, after we split ways I couldn’t really apologize. I w-wanted to get along with you again for a long time but I couldn’t…” You shake your head, refusing to see his expression. Terrified that what you’ll see is disappointment. “I wanted to sort my feelings out first so I could approach you honestly, I guess. I k-know you like alphas, so I’m not expecting anything really! I just wanted t-to ease the burden on myself a bit instead of hiding.”  

There’s a long, long stretch of silence. It feels like forever.  

“You’re in love with me? But you like omegas don’t you?”  

“Not exclusively I guess? I h-haven’t figured it out yet. I’ve never been with another alpha but my feelings for you are real. I know it’s burdensome to hear that but—”  

“It’s not burdensome,” He cuts you off instantly. Your eyes widen slightly. His expression has completely changed. “Are you being serious? You’re in love with me? Since we were kids? Even after finding out I’m an alpha?”  

You nod slowly. “Yeah. That was also part of the reason. Learning you were an alpha brought up questions. Uhm. Anyways. It’s been four years and I still can’t get over it so I didn’t want to put myself through that again. I hope it’ll make you believe that I don’t hate you at least,” 

“You still love me, then.” He says softly. “Right?”  

You flush, wondering why he’s asking. “Yeah. Same as always.”  

He covers his face with his hands, suddenly grinning. Your eyes grow wide at that openly. “Aaaah!! I’m so happy I could die right now.”  

“Bachira?”  

“You big dummy. You should’ve told me before. How come you’re the only one in the entire world who didn’t know?” 

“S-sorry?”  

For the first time in this entire conversation, you let yourself look at Bachira who’s positively beaming at you. You blink rapidly, feeling suddenly deeply unsure of yourself and your surroundings.  

“I love you too, stupid,” He says, sniffling. “Since we were practically babies.” He sniffles again, more tears streaming down his face. “Uwah, I can’t stop crying, I’m so happy.”  

“But you…don’t you also like…?”  

“Alphas? Yeah I do,” Bachira hums happily. “I’ve never been with an omega. And I’m not really that interested in them, either. I’m clingy you know? And selfish. You were the exception. My one and only omega.”  

You cover your face with your hands. 

“What’s wrong?” Bachira asks.  

You laugh. “I’m so happy I think I could die.” You mimic. Tears wet your lashes with unusual swiftness. “I never thought in a million years you would ever like me back. It wasn’t even a possibility for me.”  

It feels completely surreal. You want to pinch yourself. If it’s a dream, you want to thank whatever power is responsible for making it such a pleasant one and you never want to wake up from it. He…Bachira loves you. The way you love him. It feels so impossible. Your mind can’t catch up, leaving you slack jawed.  

“Me too,” He hums lovingly. “Ahh, I don’t know if I should cry or shout.”  

“You’ll disturb the neighbors.”  

His grin is crooked. “Then you should do something to keep me quiet,”  

Your face grows hot at the sudden implication. You’re not a virgin but the idea is immediately too stimulating for you to act normally. “What’s with that…”  

“You’re acting like you’ve never kissed anyone before.” He teases. You shoot him a sharp look.  

Your eyes go down at your lap. “Don’t tease me. I want too, I just don’t know if I can,”  

You feel Bachira move over to you. He sits himself besides you on the couch, tucking himself against your side and moving himself to look at your face where you’re ducked down. You can feel the tingling in your skin at the proximity. Overbearing alpha scent that feels like a tight hug only because it’s Bachira.   

“How can I not tease you when you’re being so cute, hm?” He hums. He’s so close to you. “You normally don’t react to anything but then you behave timid like this. It’s so cute. Don’t act shy and kiss me already. Or at least let me kiss you,”  

“Bachira…” You murmur, trying not to explode.  

“Ehhh?? That’s not my name.”  

You laugh a little, picking your head up. “Meguru,”  

“Better!”  

You laugh again, helplessly happy. There’s no word in any language tantamount to what you feel - this much you’re sure of. Embarrassment doesn’t subside quickly but seeing Bachira in front of you makes you happy enough to try look forward. He looks older, somehow. His smile is familiarly boyish, sharpened teeth and piercing eyes even stronger than before.  

Pointed, predatory - lidded eyes meet yours. “Let me kiss you.”  

You nod, unable to form words to say yes but wanting it so terribly.  

The second kiss you ever share with Bachira in your life is exactly like him. Overwhelming. A hard press of lips followed by his tongue sliding across the soft seam of your mouth, coaxing you open until he can slip his tongue in. Immediately salacious and hot, the kind of kiss you can only have in total privacy. The intentions of it are obvious. Your body singes at the feeling, immediately burdened with the weight of life-longing wantings as you kiss him. Deep and melty, your hands reaching for his waist body urging you to pull him closer.  

You feel something tingling at the base of your spine as Bachira slides his tongue against yours hotly. Wet muscle tracing your mouth, drawing lines over every inch like he’s trying to devour you whole from the inside.  

The scent of him drives you insane. He’s so close. It’s suffocating - rich, homey burnt honey and amber with something spiced clouding your mind as you breathe him through hot panting breaths and kisses and kisses. Wetness grows between your legs, the skin under your clothes starting to itch.  

You’ve had years now to understand your heat. You know exactly when it’s coming, when it starts and how it feels. You’re not due for another few weeks but you know what your body is experiencing like the back of your hand. Bachira won’t stop kissing you long enough to let you warn him, tongue busy lapping at your lips. He swallows the little noises you make. You put your hands on his shoulders as you push him away, chest heaving through unbearably labored breaths.  

A whimper in your subconscious - animal in nature, whines at you indignant. Inner omega burdened with desire and overwhelmingly craving the alpha so readily available. Estrus symptoms rush you strongly as your eyes droop, pressing your legs together hard so no slick makes a mess on the couch.  

“Meguru,” You breathe out, barely. “My heat.”  

“Was it soon?”  

You shake your head. “I t-think you triggered it,” You huff, keeping your hand on his shoulder and wincing at the way your body keens.  

His eyes fill with excitement. “Are you saying you wanted me so bad I made your heat come early?”  

“Don’t say it so..haah… blatantly.” 

He shivers, scent and pheromones releasing even stronger than before. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder as he overwhelms you. He leans in close to you, teeth nipping at your jaw - fangs dragging feather light on your scent glands.  

“It doesn’t seem like you want to stop you know?” He murmurs the words against your neck, eliciting a low whine.  

“Yu-san is supposed to be coming back.”  

“She won’t for a while. It’s already this late, I bet she’s doing something else,” 

“You don’t know that though,” You reason. He hums happily, nonplussed about all of it.  

“Are you worried she’ll walk in? I can always fuck you upstairs. In my old room. She won’t catch us if you’re quiet,” His voice has a rasp to you you’ve never heard before. It’s usually smooth and upbeat, but there’s grit to it now that has you buckling at the knees. “I’m your alpha right? I should take care of you.” 

“Who said you were my…?”  

He gives you a serious look before you can get the rest of the words out. “Do you really think I’d let you be with somebody other than me now that I know? Don’t you think that’s silly?”  

The predatory hunger in his gaze makes your breath catch. A gazelle in the maw of a lion, you wonder if all prey animals tremble violently when they at risk of being eaten. There’s such a thing as survival instinct, but there are abnormalities and exceptions. Bachira bears his fangs you, a blatant claim of his possession - teeth nearly drawing blood on the thin skin of your neck and you think to yourself you want him to eat you. To split you apart and lick you up down to bone, until your vision clouds with nothing but the sight of his hunger.  

You want it so much you gasp, a bolt of lightning crackling through each of your veins. You shake your head obedient to your own want.  

“My alpha,” You try the words out, heaven on your tongue. A claim. “My Meguru,”  

“Yours forever. Always yours,” He hums, contented with the show of submission. “Oh, baby. I’ll take such good care of you know? Knot you nice and pretty. You’ll like I promise. Even alphas like taking my knot,” His hand slides under neath your sweater, slides just between the edge of your stockings and your bare skin. “But you’re an omega—my omega, and you’re perfect so you’ll love it won’t you?”  

You feel drunk on the euphoria. Lust, lovesickness, lenience, all of them make you want to melt entirely. It’s so unlike you. During other heats with other people, you always managed to anchor yourself somehow. You want to blame it on your biology.  

You’re  hardwired to want this in some ways.  

But now you’re old enough to know there’s more to it. More to why his touch is safe. What’s etched into your bones is Bachira’s name only. Only him. His knot, his alpha instinct, his fangs - they’re what transforms you into something beyond yourself. You want the alpha in Bachira, want him to sink his teeth into softness you’ve always kept inside of him only.  

“Want you,” You confess between bitten lips “Meguru, want you so bad,” 

 Nothing in your life has ever been so true. No words you’ve spoken have bore as much weight as that admittance. Bachira licks onto your mouth without subtlety, fangs sinking into the plush of your bottom lip with lustblown out in eyes.  

“Come on, then baby.” He tempts. “Let me give you whatever you want, mmkay?”  

Your agreement comes out more like a whine than a firm yes. Bachira laces his fingers together with yours in the way he used to when you were kids walking across the road. You can barely feel your legs as you hurry up the stairs, worn but loved photos of childhood life and home. There’s pinned up medals and photos and each step you climb makes your heart race a little faster.  

It dawns on you too late that Bachira is the love of your life. Your omega pines for it, longs for the intimacy of it. Alpha, alpha, alpha - Meguru. A hymn etched into your heart.  

He tugs you into his room and locks it quick, groping desperately for the lights before pinning you up against the door in one swift motion. You feel your back against the wood as his hands move all over you. He squeezes the soft curve of your hips, nails dragging light against your stockings as he hitches your leg up kissing you more. Sloppier, messier - breathlessly chasing your lips and never pulling away. Always running after you when you stop to breathe like he’s destined to be your only source of oxygen. You claw at him, your eyes fluttering shut, rolling your up against him as slick wets the inside of your tights.  

It’s embarrassing how wet you really are. It’s never been so bad So blatant. He laughs a little, the hard press of his cock against your core making you sputter. Giggly as he feels it, hand squeezing your knee tight where he holds you up.  

“So wet,”  He murmurs against your mouth. “You’re so wet baby. It’s making a mess you know? You’re not usually this messy are you? You’re not one for bad manners.”  

You whine against his lips. “Don’t make fun of me.”  

“Stupid. I’m praising you,” He replies. “Praising your perfect pussy the way it deserves. Always giving so much to me. Don’t you think it’s mean if I don’t give back just a little?”  

“Touch me,” You beg slowly losing your sense of shame. “Knot me. Fuck me. Wanna bond with you.” You sniffle, overwhelmed as you plant your face against his neck “Wanna be with you forever,”  

A low growl slips from his throat, makes you so weak you could break with the slightest touch. “Don’t say that lightly.”  

You claw at your sobriety. Overtaken with emotions or not, the desire to bonded—mated isn’t a suggestion from thin air. You want proof of him in your life forever, the shape of his teeth in your neck. It’s been so fucking long. You’ve pined for him for nearly your entire life. Clutching onto him is the only thing you can think to do.  

Pulling away, you search desperately for your reflection in his eyes, trying to show your utter sincerity.   

“I’m not,” You say with as much conviction as you can. Embarrassment makes your face hot. “I know I’m in heat but I…” Your lip trembles. “I’ve thought about it. I won’t regret. aI want you so much, Meguru. Bond with me.”  

He whines. “You’re so unfair. You can’t just say that and expect me to be fine. You don’t know how bad I want it. Want you. For so long.”  

“You have me,” You whisper, trying not to look away. “It’s hard for me to say stuff like that, alright? So if you get it bond with me.”  

“You’re so fucking cute.” He praises. “Of course I will. How can I say no when you ask me like that? So pretty, so,” He takes a deep breath. “So sweet. So perfect.”  

Your lungs expand with a breath. “Meguru,”  

“Wore something so cute only to get it all messy,” He hums. His hands pulling up on your sweater. “Who got this for you?”  

“Uni friends,” You mumble, heart picking up speed. Bachira draws the long sweater up on your form, sliding it up over your ass and waist. It’s shaded enough that the large wet spot isn’t obvious. His hands grip your ass, moan slipping from his mouth in appreciation for the touch. “T-they told me it’s in style.”  

He tugs the sweater off of your body and tosses it somewhere on the floor, leaving you mostly naked aside from your underwear. You paw at his shirt making he laughs warmly.  

“Wanna get me naked so bad?”  

Yes. You feel ashamed thinking about how much you wanna feel his skin. Bachira is all sinewy muscle under his clothes. He’s grown a little over the last four years, even though you used to be the same height. It’s a touch of it everywhere, broader shoulders and deeper musculature, a physique carved from so much training. The muscles of his torso make you swallow thickly, the promise of dark hair trailing from his stomach at the top of his pants.  

“You’re staring so much. I’ll get embarrassed.”  

You find your hands smoothing up his chest and feel aroused about how good it looks. Weird gratitude settles over you seeing your manicured nails on Bachira’s strong chest. Too pretty for an alpha, but sharp enough that you believe it. The thought of the two of you together sends you reeling with thoughts. You’ve always wanted it. Always wanted him.  

He only lets you admire him for so long. His hands go around to your back, unclasping your bra in one go. You let him take it off you - self-conscious in how he zeros in on your chest. Nipples hardening in arousal, his hands cup them and squeeze. The rough feeling and grip of his palms makes you gasp - harsh in the way you can only imagine someone who fucks alphas can be. Keening, you watching Bachira lean back in to kiss you briefly before leaving hot, wet kisses down your neck and chest.  

Before he gets any further, he drags you along to his bed. Manhandling you until you’re laying on your back on his sheets, he climbs over you with appreciation. His eyes trace your body before landing at your core, sopping wet from heat-addled arousal. You cover your face with your hands.  

Wordless, he grabs your tights and pulls them down from your body hard.  

There it becomes obvious, your wetness. Humiliation blooms in the pit of your gut as Bachira sits between your legs, pulling your them apart at the knee with complete and utter fascination. You’re wearing light colored panties - plain with silly patterns, pale yellow. Your arousal is no doubt visible, soaking beyond just the inset of your panties but the entire thing. Slick runs down your thighs, down your ass. It’s egregious, excess appropriately reflective of how you ache. Your body is wholly for a knot with how much of it there is.  

The longer Bachira stares, the more it pulses and throbs under his vision. You feel soaked from the waist down. “Is it always so wet…?”  

“It’s not… usually this bad.” You admit. Bachira growls something deep in his chest.  

Before you can protest, he rolls soaked underwear off you in one go and leaves you completely bare.  

He’s imposing, stood on his knees over you - nearly in a trance. Bachira pulls you up by your waist, his thigh supporting  your spine as he folds you up until your legs are in the air - bending down until your cunt is directly in front of his face. You gasp seeing his face between your legs. Both of his arms are secured around your thighs as he takes a sharp inhale. Slick drips down towards your belly because of the way you’re angled and bent. It’s humiliating seeing your legs overhead. He presses his cheek against slicked-soaked inner thighs.  

Holding you still like that, back off the bed nearly folded in half with only his own body to support you - he dives face deep into your cunt without a second of forewarning. Your whole being lurches at the sensation, the lacking of build-up going straight to your tender core.  

Bachira laps at your cunt like he’s starving for it. There’s no technique, nothing but sheer animalistic hunger as his tongue dives furiously into your sex - nose bumping and brushing your clit with each wet, forceful slide of his tongue, swallowing down as much of your slick with each go. You feel your body go weak, lightheaded at being held and ate so viciously. Arousal comes in waves until finds a pace for himself with little word of instruction other than desperate keening and vague asks for more. Your eyes are closed as tension draws in your stomach. His mouth finds your clit, sucking gently and letting the flat plane of his tongue smoth on the sensitive bundle of nerves over and over - sucking carefully.  

His face is red when you open your eyes to look at him slurp your pussy, slick up and into his throat as if its a life force. Your eyes lock and you whimper at how he smiles into your pussy, keeping rhythm. He hums against you as the feeling builds and builds and builds. Heat makes you lightheaded, your thighs trembling, feet pointed with your toes curling as you reach the inevitable end of your first orgasm. His arms are securing holding you and taking the weight off of your spine - both of them holding you tight. You see the veins flex in his forearms as he grips you. Something about it sends you careening off the edge.  

The first orgasm Bachira gives you happens like that. He makes you cum with your spine halfway up in the air, tension in your body going so tight before releasing all at once. Orgasm makes you crashland. You cum so hard, you’re blindsided. Tugging as from his grip, your thighs squish his face as you squirm, all the muscles in your lower body tremoring from release.  

“M-meguru, can’tcan’tcan’t,” You feel his mouth follow you through orgasm in what reverence. His tongue dips inbetween your folds, the only mercy you receive.  

All at once, he lets you down gently until your laid limp in his bed. His face is covered in slick and drool as you lay there gasping and twitching erratically in the aftermath of your first induced heat orgasm. You stare at him, dazed as he wipes his face with his hands then licks them clean.  

“You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles, awestruck. His hand comes down next to your head, nothing but pure adoration in his vision - fangs bared. The yellow gold of his eyes pins you to his bed. “I can’t get enough of you. Didn’t know anything could taste that good.”  

He presses his mouth to yours in a way that’s almost violent, holding your jaw so you can taste yourself on his tongue. When he’s pleased, he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek and all over your face. You can’t think of a single coherent string of thoughts, even after your first orgasm.  

Like a livewire, every place Bachira touches, lingers for minutes. Just his name, just his knot - the only things your brain can make space for so aroused.  

“Did I already fuck you stupid?” He asks, breathless laugh on his lips. “Aw, baby - we just got started you know? You can’t tap out so early,” He pats your thigh with sticky hand making you yelp and waking you up form your haze. “How can I make you my mate without your full attention, hm?”  

You blink at him, tears at your lashes at his face. Your heart feels strange, so relieved, so pleasant, you think you could die. The smallest, soberest part of you is happy to be with Bachira but your instinct is practically clawing at your chest begging for more.  

“Meguru,” You want to burst into tears but settle for soft sniffles. “Meguru, I love you. Love you, love you so much. I love you.”  

“Ehh? Why’re you crying dummy?” His voice is tender, so thoughtful. Bachira is so selfish while being so loyal at the same time it makes your heart sing. “I love you too, so so much. Are you crying ‘cause it felt good?” 

He leans into your space, letting your arms wrap around his neck with a sniffle. “It felt so good it was scary,”  

He smiles at you - beaming. You want to hold onto him forever. Your soul has never ached so much for another person in your entire life, You press onto him tight, chest squeezing against his as you pull him in for a hug.  

He laughs then, squeezing you in his arms before rolling around in the bed. The innocence of the gesture brings a quiet giggle to your lips as Bachira presses kisses all over you. Soft pecks on your shoulder, on your nape, at the crown of your head. “Wanna look at me this time, hm? Would it make you feel better?”  

You nod in his arms and he smiles at you again, so sweet. He’s different. His egoism is so present, so there - selfishness carving him into the man he is now. Bachira does as he pleases with you, but gives you these little mercy’s admits his ruthlessness that make you want to fold under his touch.  

He lays on his back and drags you along with him. You’re laid ontop of him, chest to chest - and he keeps you like that before gazing into your eyes so adoringly, you urge to look away. He holds your gaze, not intending to let you.  

“You’re staring too much.” You murmur.  

“I can’t look at you even though you’re so pretty? Unfair.” He says back just as fast.  

“You say embarrassing stuff so easily…”  

He smiles at you. “Because I mean it, dummy. There’s no one prettier than you,”  

“That’s not,” Your breath catches as you feel his hands grab your ass, pressing your face to his neck, scent glands next to your nose. “…ngh, it’s not..”  

“Don’t say it’s not true or I’ll get angry,” His voice is sing-songy as he gropes you with both hands, content to feel you as you rub your body against his desperately craving more touch. You want to be in his skin. “You’re prettiest to me.”  

“Meguru,” You whimper. “Meguru,”  

“Begging for my knot with such a sweet voice. How deceiving.”  The contrast in the tone of his voice versus his touch makes you long for him. “Do you want my cock so bad already?”  

You frown feeling bashful as you nod.  

“Ah, but you’ve never had a knot in here before have you? Not a real one,” He hums, voice thick with amusement. “So I have to open you up nice till you’re nice and soft on my fingers mmkay? Here, turn this way.” 

Bachira lays you on your side, letting you adjust so your arm can slide under him comfortable. He lays facing you, pulling you towards him until your legs slot together - one of your legs locked between his with the other on top. He’s face to face with you like this. He slides one of his arms under your back to pull you to him even further, the other reaching over around your thighs and sliding his digits against your slick cunt. Your own arm bent at the elbow, you hold onto Bachira’s face locking eyes with him. Hands splay at his face, hoping your expression is enough to get the points across. He smiles at you, fangs glinting out shiny as he stares back.  

No words are shared between you but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you want to tell.  

You feel his middle finger slide down until it catches on your entrance making you whine. He hums sogtly, forearm pressed against your thigh as he pushes his first digit into you slowly. Your lips meet again in something softer, heat stricken pining you moan as he sinks into your welcoming heat. His voice is a whisper against your skin.  

“Fuck, nghh - Meguru,”  

“Your body is made for this,” He says, awestruck and giggly. “It’s going in so easy. Needs my knot so bad it’s getting impatient and ready. So fucking wet,”  

You huff impatiently. Rarely are you so petulant and impatient. You want more, need him inside so much deeper. From the first time you had sex to now, you’ve never experienced this much longing to be penetrated. To be fucked hard and deep, hardwired in your subconscious.  

 It’s never been important until now, until Bachira. His first slides in and out so easily, you only start to feel it at two. You tuck against Bachira’s neck, feeling the shape of his fingers. They’re angular, bony but long and pretty. They reach into you deeper than you’re own even with just two.  

“There’s a spot that makes you feel good, right?’ He hums. You can feel the reverb of his voice from his chest. “Where is it… here?”  

He hits it almost instant, rubbing your gspot - lightly swollen from heat. You arch against him as Bachira places an appreciative kiss on your shoulder. “It’s there. I’ll touch it more for you, ‘kay.”  

So he does. He angles his fingers, his wrists in such a way that he can rub up against it in a beckoning gesture. Your clit throbs in response to the stimulation - sticky, honeyed want coiling in your gut and abdomens as you sensitivity skyrockets even higher. Pressure builds slower with his fingers, just two - pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy noisily as Bachira concentrates, low lidded eyes. Pressing his lips to yours and swallowing your tiny whimpers. You feel like you’re going to burst when he adds a third finger in. You’re not expecting the stretch - not painful but full. Makes you feel even needier, canting your hips against the motion of his fingers.  

You cum again dully throbbing all over your body - the sensation snapping like something brittle - clean and even but obvious. Your cunt tightens, clamping down on Bachira’s ring, middle, and pointer and how deeply they reach inside of you. You’ve never cum like this before, never cum from the inside even during heat. Silken walls clamp down on his thick fingers never wanting him to go, only wanting more.  

The arousal is just strong enough to make you snap. You gasp, nearly biting his lips as you shudder and rut - trembling in the strong grip of Bachira’s arms. The praise he whispers against your hot skin makes you feel so wanted. Your brain chants for his cock, his knot so eagerly you don’t know how to get it across other than begging him until your voice gives. The omega in you whines, sniffles brattily when Bachira pulls his fingers from you leaving your cunt so sorely empty.  

“Fuck me,” You express, trying to keep your composure as best you can. “Can’t think.”  

“Eh? That’s a first,” He hums. He draws your hips to his, hand on your ass as his clothed erection is pinned up against your sticky sex. “You’re always overthinking with this pretty face but now you want my knot so much you can’t?”  

The words make you want to collapse, how mean he says them while still being sweet. 

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup. “I love you  

“Shh, shh - it’s okay,” He murmurs. If you were more there you’d know he’s merely teasing. “Don’t cry. Just have to stick beside me from now on okay? All mine. Gonna bite you and make it permanent so you can’t run away.”  

“Okay,”  

“And you can’t show how cute you are like this to anyone else, okay?”  

You sniffle. “Okay,”  

“Say it baby,” He echoes. “Say I’m yours and you’re mine.”  

So you repeat the words as best you can in this state, slurring your words. “I’m yours and… you’re mine.”  

He grins. “You’re so cute. So perfect. Ah, I’m getting jealous of other people just thinking about it.”  

You blurt the words out drunk off of the sensations in your body when you hear Bachira talk of jealousy. “I broke up with my last boyfriend because of you,” You mumble, inhaling his scent “He was really nice to me but I couldn’t get over you even though we were together for a year,” You let your eyes flutter shut. “It was just a few days ago. So, there’s nothing to be jealous over,”  

A long silence stretches between you at the confession as you listen to Bachira’s heartbeat pick-up pace until it’s a loud pump. The sudden change makes you concerned, pulling away to see what he’s thinking. You assume it was going to be something cheeky and playful like always, but when you look at him - he’s blushing full red. Completely bashful, eyes blown wide and blinking rapidly. You feel oddly amused at it as he presses his lips together, hugging you until you laugh.  

“You’re soo unfair. Ugh, how could you…ugh” He trails off to stare at you. “You love me?”  

You smile at him breaking out into a giggle. “A lot. It’s embarrassing.”  

He sighs blissfully content.  

“I can’t look at you while I bond with you but I want to when I knot you ‘kay? Wanna hold you really close.” 

“Meguru,”  

He whistles at the sound of his name on your lips, like it’s all you need to say. “Lay on your tummy baby. “ 

He moves aside to let you flip over until you’re laying flat on your stomach. You lift your hips up slightly to make yourself more accessible, burying your face in your arms crossed in front you. You feel anticipation build up in your body, thoughts complete clouded. Your incisors sink in your lower lip as you listen to Bachira unzip and take off his pants, wiggling your hips lightly to tempt him. His hand comes down to swat your ass in a playful gesture. You yelp.  

He’s quiet for a while, his hands coming onto your back. “What’s this?”  

Your eyes widen as his fingers brush over the spot. You hadn’t thought about it. Your tattoo. Shit.  

“…A tattoo,”  

“Of a bumble bee and a flower,” Bachira repeats, shit-eating grin audible. “What kind of flower?”  

“Kuroyuri.” You say, embarrassed. “Stands for love and curse.”  

“Oh you’re really that in love with me, hm? How old is this? It’s healed. You missed me so much? I’m so happy.” He says breathlessly, elation so obvious in his voice it makes you shy. “Tell me all about when I’m done fucking you, okay baby?”  

You bury your face away from him, feeling shy as he kisses the placement before moving along.  

The position doesn’t let you see Bachira’s cock. Instead you feel it, which makes it much more imposing than you ever thought possible. The weight, the heft, the thickness of it is makes your breath hitch as you finally feel it outside of the confines of his boxers. You don’t need to look at it, you can feel how massive it is. He slides it along the curve of your ass and you can sense it so obviously it makes your stomach churn. He slides it between your ass, pushing it through both cheeks but not penetrating and it stretches you. You can barely contain the shock in your voice, pussy throbbing at the idea of him being inside of you with something so unbearably big.  

He hasn’t even knotted you. How can he possibly be that big without a knot. Your voice trembles.  

“Meguru… you’re huge.”  

He laughs, breathless. Cocky and egoistic that sends your spine tingling like a solar flare. “You don’t like it?”  

“I’m a little scared,” You admit. “But I want it at the same time.”  

“Don’t be scared,” His voice is tender but his words are filthy. “You’re made for me. Your cunts all split open and soaking wet because it’s begging you for my knot, pretty. Just mine. You’ll feel so full with me. So don’t be nervous and let me in okay?”  

You breathe deeply shakily, eyes fluttering closed at the promise of it. “Okay, Meguru.”  

You find yourself thankful that you’re not looking at him, but at the same time - you’re unsure if it’s better. You have to focus in on the sensation. There’s nothing but posters on the wall for you to look at and your eyes are barely focused it. Every inch of your skin is dry kindle and Bachira is the lighter - the match, the spark that sends you reeling in the midst of your heat.  

Your heats are always drunken stupors, messy hormonal sessions. To you they’ve always been akin to intense inebriated sex that’s painful unless you cum a few times.  

But with Bachira your heat is all encompassing flame. It’s like letting the sun swallow you whole, sweat dripping down your spine. When Bachira pushes the fat head of his cock into your tight, wanting, needy fucking cunt - you cry so loud you might scream. Whats left of your sense snaps as your body throbs for cock, you push yourself back onto him with a groan. You want him to knot you, want him to fuck you full and cum deep inside and plug you up. Want him to make you so whole and he’s so good because he is. 

 You feel your fists tangle in the sheets, and then feel Bachira’s body slump over yours from behind. His hand falls over yours, squeezing it as the thick swell of his shaft pushes into you your pussy painfully slow and stakes its claim. You feel like an animal the way you give way to your desires.  

The sensations and scent in the room is so strong your eyes sting and your mouth waters, drool pooling at your lips as Bachira splits your pussy open completely on his fat cock. Everything is sweet,  coats your mouth as you take in a sharp gasp of air. You choke his name out from your lips, whimpering at the soft growl in his voice when he finally bottoms out. Inch by inch, veins of his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you.  

Your body is hypersensitive. You’re so wet, so out of your mind with that your thighs are trembling at the edge of an orgasm. If he moves the right way, you know you’ll cum instantly.  

He leans over your shoulder and you pick your head up weakly letting him lick into your mouth. “Gonna bond you. Gonna mark you and mate you and making you all fucking mine. Sink my fangs into your pretty neck, my pretty omega. You’re so precious baby. Make me so hard. I love you, I love you so much.”  

“Bite me,” Is all you can get out, your brain can barely think hard enough for anything else. “Please. Please bite me,”  

It’s sudden. Sharp. Exactly what you want.  

You feel the sensation of teeth in your neck and everything around you halts to honor it. An orgasm shatters you in the process of it as Bachira pulls out and thrusts his hips and you cum so hard you shake violently - hands fisted in the sheets and pussy spasming as you cum relentlessly. Bottomed out, you allow your body to take it all in before the feeling your bond starts to draw in so much clarity. Belly fully, muscles tight - everything slows the the whirring blades of a fan coming a halt or a car worshiping a red light. The world stops spinning, briefly - mind and soul and spirit melding together his fangs descent into your neck. You feel the sharpening teeth sink into the soft flesh of your nape and cry out at the dull sensation of pain, outweighed by the out-of-body euphoria.  

It’s like everything makes sense. Every moment, every concern, every heartbreak - every minute apart. Love like a nerve split raw, open, tender - make tears pool at your lashes and spill down your face as Bachira bonds with you and stays there long enough to penetrate. All endorphins, pleasure, pain. Something clicks steadily into place inside of you and makes sense of all of your mess. Everything you are. 

A sense of completeness like nothing you could ever know without him. You love him so much it swallows you whole.   

Bonding, a mark of permanence - can be rejected by the body. Bred into your secondary sex after years of evolution. A unique trait to alpha and omega sexes, whether same or opposite sex pairs. Bonds are equivalent to sharing yourself with another person. Weak bonds can be broken, and some bonds won’t take at all.  

When your bond with Bachira takes so easily some part of you just knows. Some place beyond instinct, beyond every thing in the world that defines you. All of you has always existed in part with Bachira. And this pleasure, this desire for closeness can only be derived from years of unconditional love.  

Whatever would happen of you, had you been born an alpha or beta, Bachira would be born alongside you and make you complete or you, him. The way the sensation connects you like an invisible thread is proof of that.  The ease of it. The desire between you is greater because of it’s exclusivity, because you prefer omegas and always will - but no one compares to Bachira regardless of sex or anatomy. He is yours because he is him, sweet smells and soft eyes and need.  

You can’t help but weep about it as you know he feels it too, secretions from his teeth dulling the pain from the wound as he finally pulls out from the mark and laps at the blood.  

You feel such intense relief, heat subsiding leaving only pleasure and warmth. .  

You love him so much you could stay like this. You love him so much nothing else in the world could ever sway you from it. You don’t care what it makes you. What it means. You love Bachira as he loves you - conventionally unconventional. Beautifully imperfect.  

Tears slip down your face as Bachira licks your wounds for you like always.  

“I’m yours, baby.” Bachira says, soft. Whispers your first name as he says it. “I love you so much. My whole life. Since I was little. Since you called out to me and let me show you my dribbling. I can’t stand being without you, you know? So don’t ever leave me,”  

You laugh a little, sobering. “As if I could.”  

“Wanna knot you and hold you, kay? Gimme a sec.”  

Your body whines at sensation of Bachira slowly pulling out before flipping you onto your back in missionary. He’s quick to do it. You glance at his shiny cock , light throb in your neck as he shoves the whole thing back in one go and making your sensitive hole cum all over again. Your own body is ridiculous to you. You’re making a mess on his cock and definitely of his bed in the process, gasping as your muscles spasm in your waist. 

“S-sorry,”  

“Don’t apologize for that, dummy.” He kisses you. “Here. Hold onto me.”  

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let yourself slump into bed, whining as Bachira fucks you a few times - sloppy, wet thrusts noisy in the room around you. You feel them in your exhaustion, another wave of tension making your stomach burn. 

“Gonna, fuck—knot you, gonna knot you, ‘kay? Touch yourself for me.”  

“Knot me, Meguru.”  

Bachira bottoms out. You feel his cum flood your cunt - so thick it’s in a stream as the base of his thick cock swells inside your pussy. You’re already so stretched by his dick on its own, you can’t imagine the sensation of the real thing until you feel it.  

It throbs hotly inside of you, deep. The knot swells up until it’s fat enough to stretch your open, slick pussy even further. You feel it in spite of how wet you are, the sensation rubbing on your walls raw punching all the air out of your lungs as he cock fills you completely. You feel it in your throat, his knot in your belly plugging you full as you breathe.  

“Fuck,” Your voice breaks. “You’re so huge, what the fuck.”  

He pauses then laughs hysterically as he sinks into you unable to move. “Thanks! I’m pretty proud of it.”  

You chuckle tiredly. “How long does this last?”  

He hums. “An hour-ish?”  

Your eyes go wide. “Shit. Really?”  

“Uh-huh,” Bachira says happily, collapsing ontop of you. “And when it goes down I’m going to fuck you some more.”  

“Mercy… my stamina… Meguru I’ll die.”  

“No way. I’ve waited too long.” He says with a deep breath. “But I’ll let you rest for now.”  

You close your eyes, smiling. “Pfft. Thanks.”  

__  

Your back is going to give out.  

Athletes are frightening. Your body is covered in bite marks underneath the collar as you peel out of Bachira’s arms in the morning after. It’s 7am, and the sun still hasn’t risen since it’s the dead of winter. You stare at him, kissing his cheek as he lays - completely rested and healthy. Bastard.  

“Meguru,” You hum, stirring him awake. “I’m gonna run to the store and pick us up something to eat.”  

“Noooo,” He says, half asleep trying to wrestle you back into bed. “Stay here. With me,”  

“No,” You reprimand, peeling away from him. He whines out loud. “I’m sticky. I’m gonna borrow your loose clothes okay? I’ll be back soon.”  

“Booo,”  

Ultimately too tired to protest, you yawn and crawl out of your bed, scrambling to the shower after rummaging through tubs of clean, old clothes in Bachiras’s room and picking whatever you think will fit.  

You shower, scrubbing yourself inside and out. You feel apologetic using the products in the shower as you scrape cum out of yourself as best you can and scrub your body. Layers of sweat and slick between your thighs have dried down and feel incredibly unpleasant now that your sober and your heat is mostly settled or it will be for another few days. You’re thankful that Bachira’s childhood home is the second most familiar place in your life as it allows you to get clean in hot water without feeling awkward.  

Once you’re cleaned, you dry off and borrow Bachira’s lotion - rubbing into your skin and taking care of your appearance best you can. You examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, feeling sudden humiliation at your face. You’re practically glowing, and you reek of Bachira and fucked out omega even after the bath. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and thanking all higher powers that you don’t have to see your parents for a few more days.  

After gathering yourself in the bathroom, you check on Bachira one more time in his room and smile as sleeps softly before slipping downstairs. 

His mom hasn’t returned yet. Her shoes, jacket, and other belongings aren’t in the house and her gifts are where you left them. You feel thankful about that as your eyes search for your bag, still sitting on the couch where you left it. Shuffling through it, you pop some heat medication dry before doing anything else.  

You grab it. It still has some battery left, left on DND. You check the time only, deciding you can swipe later. Heading out the door quickly, you make sure to lock up using the key underneath the mat for your quick trip to 7/11.  

A brisk walk later in the frostbitten air, you enter the convenience store. A bored looking cashier nods at you as you smile flatly in return.  

You pick up a couple of things. XXL condoms, juice and soda water, some snacks and ramen - along with some easy hot foods that can keep you both alive until you can get a better meal. Bachira has a decent appetite but you don’t think he’ll be up for a while to eat proper. He likes to sleep in during vacations.  

“Ah, excuse—Bachira?”  

Your eyes widen as you meet eyes with the familiar stranger and his friend. You know both of these people.  

You could not have possibly met them at a worse time.  

“Isagi-kun…” You bow, awkwardly thinking of what ways you could end your life right there in the 7/11. “And this is…?”  

“Rin Itoshi. He prefers Rin,”  

“Rin-kun,”  

The taller, brooding one gives you a look, crinkling his nose a little. You want to die. Your gaze turns to Isagi which is not much better as he’s wearing the worst shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen in your life.  

“I see. Nice to meet you Rin-kun,” You say, looking away, “What are you two doing here? This is me and Bachira’s hometown.”  

“We’re supposed to visit him in a couple of days actually but decided to do a little sight-seeing first. There’s more of us but they’re asleep at the hotel.”  

You just nod, silence stretching between you before Isagi breaks it.  

“I’m glad the two of you made up,” He says. “When did you guys start to reconcile? I always felt really guilty after the whole mall incident. Glad to see you  both doing well,”  

Your brain moves too slow to lie. “Uh. Last night was the first time we saw each other in a few years,”  

His eyes widen. “So the picture he posted was…?”  

You squint. “What picture?”  

Isagi makes a guilty face, unsure of what to do. Before you can ask, Rin, pulls his phone out and shows you something.  

It’s you and Bachira in bed with you asleep in his arms - your bitemark and visible tattoo showing in the image as his hand cradles the back of your head while you’re cuddling him in your sleep.. You’re both mostly covered by the sheets. The only caption is an emoticon and you’re not tagged. You blink, wiping your eyes. It’s so like him, you aren’t sure if you should laugh or cry. You sigh deeply instead.  

“You didn’t know?”  

“Haven’t checked my phone since..” You trail off. He’s so reckless. “Thanks for uh… showing me. I’m gonna head back but you and your team mates should come visit sometime. I cook hotpot for New Years so it’d be nice to have you all.”  

Isagi smiles amicably, politely ignoring the situation. You’re thankful your partners friend has so much tact unlike he himself. “Of course. I’ll ask Bachira for your info. Keep in touch”  

“Of course. Good luck on the World Cup qualifiers.”  

They both thank you for that before you turn and depart with whatever left of your dignity.  

__  

You check your phone on the way back to his place, seeing your notifications in shambles. Fifty messages total, some from family and most from friends congratulating you. You ignore all of them for now, especially the ones from your brother - not willing to know what they say.  

In your despair, you don’t notice the new pair of shoes when you open the unlocked door of Bachira’s childhood home either.  

“Oh!” Yu-sans voice is just as welcoming as it always is as you stare at her in the doorway awe-struck. She smiles at you incredibly knowingly as a new wave of mortification sinks in. “You’re back. Meguru is in the shower.”  

“Ah,”  

She gives you a long grin, letting the silence settle first before breaking out into laughter so loud it startles you. You can feel your body grow hot with shame, wishing the world would open from the ground up and swallow you.  

“You know I always thought something like this would happen eventually,” She hums, prepping the flowers you bought last night for a vase. “I’m grateful it happened when you were both adults at least.”  

“Yu-obasan..”  

“Oh don’t be so cold. Yu-san is fine. Or maybe kaa-san now that you’re both together.” She hums. “Anything but oba-san is fine. Makes me feel old. You know that.”  

You make an embarrassed face, sighing as you set your things down at the couch. You wanted to do stuff like this in order. Though you never really imagined you and Bachira together, you always thought for a serious relationship you’d have more of yourself together.  

“Uh,” You flush as you sit at the counter. Yu-san gives you a small smile, head tilted to one side as she arranges the flowers you’ve bought her. “It’s late to do this, but uhm… thank you for giving birth to Meguru and for taking care of me as if I were your own child all this time.” You feel your ears turn hot as you say the rest. “I promise to take good care of Meguru and you for as long as I live, any way I can and I hope you can accept our relationship and give us your blessing.”  

You pause, afraid to look up for a minute until the silence stretches on for a touch too long. When you look up, she’s smiling. Grinning. Meguru looks so much like her. Her laughter bubbles through the room airily like champagne.  

She comes around to hug you tight, startling you from where you sit, her hand on your head. “Asking my blessing… I don’t know how my Meguru got so lucky to find such a responsible kid. Of course you have it. As if you need to ask. Please do take good care of him and yourself. This is your home too, okay?” 

You smile before being startled by another familiar voice. “Uwah, I go shower and you’re having a hug without me.”  

“Come join us then!”  

“Yay! Group hug!” 

Bachira hollers as he squeezes you and his mom in a hug, suffocating you. It’s incredibly embarrassing so in some ways it feels incredibly familiar. They’re really too similar some times.  

When they pull away, Yu-san plays a motherly kiss to both your face and Bachira’s. “I’m going to go put these up in my room and hang out in the studio for a bit. You two should have a date, alright? It’s rare you have time like this.”  

“’Kay,” Bachira says, watching her walk up stairs before shouting. “Love you!”  

“Love you too!”  

You watch her disappear up the steps before seeing Bachira again sobered.  He smiles at you lovingly, but you pout - suddenly remembering this morning.  

“Ehhh?? Why are you making that face? Shouldn’t we be super lovey-dovey right now?”  

“The picture you posted,” You say, tugging at his shirt with your head down. “That’s too sudden. You’re a big athlete now, and—“ 

“So? There’s no one for me but you. I don’t care who knows. I want everyone in the entire world to know even though I don’t want them to actually see you.” He murmurs, crowding into your space. “I want everyone to know you’re mine. Don’t be mad, okay?”  

“I spoil you too much,” You say, because it’s true and it’s enough to make you not mad at all.  

He kisses you then. He tastes like the fruity toothpaste kids use and home when he does pulling back with a warm smile. You feel flush but keep your eyes on his face.  

“It’s the first time we’ve kissed just to kiss,” You hum. He smiles mischievously.  

“The second time, silly.”  

When the realization dawns on you, you gasp - smacking his chest in shock in dismay.  

You thought he blacked out for that kiss when you were seventeen! Bachira breaks out into giggles above you.  

“Meguru!” You exclaim, feeling huffy as he pulls you into his arms and begs for forgiveness. 

Meguru. Homesickness makes you ache, his name in your mouth the only remedy.  

Meguru. Your one and only.  

[undertheorangetree]

In The Woods Somewhere

Summary- Coriolanus does not intend on returning to the Capitol alone.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DUBCON Female reader. TBOSAS spoilers technically. Reader is essentially Lucy Gray. Porn with plot. Toxic relationship. Possessive Coriolanus. Chasing. Biting. Restraint. Choking. Edging. Overstimulation. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex.

Author’s Note- Happy holidays! This is not our regularly scheduled programming but I have Hunger Games/Tom Blyth brain rot so here’s this monster. Please heed the warnings and link to the full fic on AO3 below

She knows the moment he looks up at her, rifle clutched in his hands, that he will not be coming north with her. Not anymore, not now that he has the one thing tying him to this place well in hand.

She isn't a fool. She knows that his feelings for her played only a small role in his agreeing to come with her but she had been willing to overlook that. When he had cupped her face in his hand and swore that he would join her, that they would escape Panem- and their collective noose- together, she had seen the hesitation there. Coryo was not a man built for nature, no more than he was built for the districts, but she loves him and so she had ignored it. Twisted it into something romantic and noble in her head, that he would give up all this, that he would leave behind everything for her. He had promised her earnestly and she had taken him at his word.

But with the look on his face now, some potent mix of elation and relief washing over him like a wave, she knows she never stood a chance.

"It's the gun," he says, and she hates the tone he uses. The way he almost breathes the words, the way he looks up at her with the ghost of a smile on his face. Had she had doubts about what the guns would inspire in him, the look on his face is enough to prove her right.

"The one you fired at Mayfair," she says with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest. It feels almost protective now, as if she can safeguard her breaking heart. "Spruce must have known about this place too. I guess it's not as secret as I thought. We hide that and you're free."

"No more loose ends."

The way he says it, his hands tightening on the barrel as he looks down at the rifle, makes her blood run cold. This is all he wanted, nothing short of a dream come true. She doesn't like it, her reaction just as much as his own, and she fights to push passed it. Tells herself that there is nothing wrong here, not really, that he is entitled to some semblance of excitement, but she can feel that unease gnawing at her gut. It feels like an omen. A warning.

She grins, hoping to seem more at ease than she truly is, and feels her nose scrunch up teasingly as she says, "Besides me."

It's the wrong thing to do. Immediately, he goes rigid, eyes darting up to look at her and she sees the distrust there, akin to a beaten dog. It wouldn't be as startling as it is if not for their conversation in the woods not even an hour before. He is willing to kill if backed far enough into a corner and is that not what she has just done? Reminded him of the power she held over him with this knowledge? Backed him into a corner? And just like that beaten dog, she can see that he is only a moment away from snapping at her with pearly white teeth.

"You wouldn't... tell anyone?"

She feels her eyebrows draw together, all attempt at joking gone. It hurts a little, what seems to be a complete lack of faith in her, and it's almost surprising. Almost. "Course not."

But would she? She doesn’t really know now. The fact that he believes she could, as if she could exchange his freedom for her own, feels like the final nail in the coffin. She could forgive his dislike of the idea of heading north, the relief on his face when he saw the guns. But what he said in the woods- three’s enough for me- and his distrust of her now… she doesn’t think she’s safe with him. All their talk of trust, of how he agreed it was worth more than love, thrown to the wind all for the sake of a duffle bag full of rifles. Because just as easily as those gun could buy her freedom, they could secure his own too. One small step toward returning to his life back in the Capitol. He was going to leave before killing Mayfair, she knew that. And if there’s no weapon linking him to the crime, he could. Because no matter how badly she wants to believe he wants a life with her, she thinks he wants his old one back that much more.

And she isn’t sure just what he is willing to sacrifice to get rid of all those loose ends.

She feels herself smile again, moving on autopilot to fetch the knife she knows is on the shelf near the door. It doesn’t reach her eyes but she isn’t looking at him, gripping the handle of the knife a little too tightly. “I think I’m gonna go dig up some katniss. There’s a good patch down by the lake, don’t know when we’ll come across it again.”

His suspicion only grows at that, lips parted and head tilted in question, and she knows she needs to go. Though his finger has not yet shifted toward the trigger, it hasn’t moved away from it either. He has been a Peacekeeper for no more than two months, but that was more than enough time to pick up all he needed to know about firing a gun. Even if his aim is shoddy, it wouldn’t take much effort to aim in her general direction and hold down on a trigger. She had said it herself, she is the only one left who knew the truth about Mayfair’s death- her murder. If he wanted to go back to the Capitol, he needed to be damn sure there wasn’t a chance of his time here coming back to haunt him. As it is now, she is the only thing standing between him and the Snow penthouse.

“Thought you said they weren’t ready yet,” he protests, that uncertainty still more than apparent.

She prays her smile doesn’t look as forced as it feels when her eyes flick up to look at his handsome face, doing what she can to seem nonchalant. “The world changes awful fast.”

She pulls the door open, the rain pounding against the porch outside, when he calls her name. Her grip on the knife tightens a hair more before she’s turning back to look at him, keeping her eyes wide and innocent as she tilts her head in question. She knows she hesitated, knows he caught her if the look on his face is anything to go by, but rather than let her panic consume her, she focuses on his eyes. The beautiful, brilliant blue of his eyes. That may be the thing she misses most about him, after all this.

“It’s still raining.”

As if a little rain is enough to stop her from saving her own life.

“Well, I’m not made out of sugar,” she grins, taking one last look at him before shutting the door, placing some kind of barrier between them.

Read the rest here :)

[slut4thebroken]

Nymphomania

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader

Summary | You been trying for months to get Dr. Crane to give in. After a bold attempt, he finally breaks.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, age gap, doctor/patient relationship?, mentions of murder, reader is so horny and we’re here for it, degradation, humiliation, face fucking, deep throating, rough oral sex, slight dubcon? but only because he’s “reluctant”, filthy nasty disgusting oral sex😭

Words | 2.6 k

Notes | He’s about 38 in this fyi. Also I already have an idea for a second part but it’s not even started so don’t expect it any time soon lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Dr. Crane has been your psychiatrist for several months now. Ever since your first session, you’ve been completely smitten and you were never shy about showing it. At first he was uncomfortable with your forwardness and flirty behavior, but he quickly learned to just ignore it… and most of the time he’s successful. But every once in a while you’ll say something particularly bold and he’ll reprimand you with a blush. 

Today was no different. You were brought to the usual room where your sessions take place and you waited eagerly for him to arrive. When the door finally opened and he walked in, you perked up, a giddy smile making its way on your face. 

“How are you today?” He asked as he set down his things, then sat across from you. 

“Better now that you’re here.” You put your elbow on the table and rested your chin on your hand, staring up at him through your lashes. “How are you?”

“Busy. Shall we get started?” The dismissal was not lost on you… but you’ve never been one to cooperate. 

“You sound stressed, doctor. Maybe I can help you relax?” You purred, slowly extending your leg to brush your foot over his shin, sliding it up. He pushed your foot back down, then moved his chair back a little as he cleared his throat.

“Behave.” He warned, making your lips curl up into a smirk.

“For you? Always.” He scoffed at that, but he can’t blame you for not behaving. Not when it’s not even your fault. “It’s not my fault I act like this.” You said defensively.

“No?”  

“I wouldn’t be so needy if you’d just help me out every once in a while.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of taking care of that yourself.” 

“I don’t like doing it myself, it’s not the same. Need you, doctor.” Your gaze shifted to his lips before settling on his hands, examining the veins leading up into his arms, covered by his suit. You wished the table wasn’t here so you could see all of him though. 

“Need your cock.” You suddenly looked at his eyes again and the only indication you got that he was affected by your words was the slight bob of his throat as he swallowed. “Please, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, leaning forward a little, wishing your top was lower to help you out. 

“If you need to be fucked so bad, you shouldn’t have killed four people and gotten yourself stuck in here.” He said, sounding almost bored. 

“I didn’t kill people, I killed men.” You said, now much more annoyed, but quickly brought your tone back to something sweeter. “And I guess I just thought at least one hot guy in here would be willing to fuck me. I didn’t plan on having my options completely limited to you.” 

“How are they limited?” 

“Because I don’t want anyone else! I just want you. And I can tell you feel the same, you’re just too obsessed with your job to act on it.” You frowned. He took in a deep breath through his nose and looked away from you as he thought. 

“Come here.” He suddenly said, leaning forward while beckoning you to do the same. Once you were leaned over the table slightly, you let your eyes fall to his lips as you waited for his next move. “My job isn't the issue. It’s the fact that you’re a criminally insane little girl.” He said lowly, making you press your thighs together as you squirmed. 

“I'm 20.” You defended weakly. 

“Exactly. I was already a legal adult when you were born.” 

“So? That just makes it hotter.” You said quietly, then bit your lip, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He didn’t respond and you tried not to shrink under his gaze. After another moment you sighed and leaned back, his eyes following every movement carefully. When you pushed your chair back, he stiffened. 

“What are you doing?” You slid down the chair to the floor, then crawled under the table. He started moving his chair back so you grabbed the legs to keep it in place. Because of his attempt to get away from you, you now had enough room to get out from under the table, but the space between it and the chair was small enough that your shoulders pressed against his spread legs. 

“Please? I need your cock, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, placing your hands on his thighs and snaking them up. “I’ve been thinking about it every day for months. Please let me have a taste.” You did your best to hide your smirk as you stared up at him through your lashes. When you suddenly leaned forward and started mouthing at his cock through his clothing, he roughly grabbed your hair, making you whine and work even harder. 

“Insatiable little slut.” He spat, wrenching your head back uncomfortably so that you were looking up at him again. Since you couldn’t use your mouth, you placed a hand on his bulge, making his grip on your hair tighten. You couldn’t help the open-mouthed smile that crept up on your face at the rough treatment. That seemed to only make him angrier though. 

“Hands behind your back.” He ordered. You smirked and glanced down at your hand on his bulge, debating if you wanted to be a brat or not. When his grip got impossibly tighter, you released him and placed your hands behind yourself. You had a feeling that he would end up giving you what you want. 

“You go a few months without it and turn into a cock hungry whore,” You moaned and squeezed your thighs together, looking up at him with a glint in your eyes. “Like a fucking bitch in heat.” He spat. 

“Please, Dr. Crane.” You said through a moan. “Please, I need it.” Your gaze shifted between his face and his crotch hungrily. 

“Stop talking.” He hissed. 

“If you want me to shut up, you know what to do.” You smirked at him and he clenched his jaw, letting out a heavy breath through his nose. He seemed to be debating what to do— torn between not wanting to give you what you want and finally shutting you up. 

“Take it out.” He ordered. You don’t think your hands have ever moved faster. They immediately shot out and started working on his belt, then the button, and finally the zipper. When his cock was finally free, you let out a low moan and tried to lean forward, but he stopped you with the hand in your hair. “Hands behind your back.” You whined but obeyed and he pulled you closer, using his free hand to fist his cock. You could smell him now and you knew that he could feel your panting breaths with how close you were. 

“Please.” You mewled, shuffling closer. 

“Move your hands and we’re done. Understand?” He warned. You didn’t know if he meant done right now, or done for good and you’ll be assigned to someone else, but both options sounded terrible. 

“Yes, doctor.” You stared up at him through your lashes with wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading him to give you what you want. 

He relented and pulled your head down as your mouth fell open, eagerly anticipating what you’ve been craving since you first arrived here. When you finally wrapped your lips around the tip, you moaned loudly at the taste and let your eyes flutter shut. You flicked your tongue over it, lapping up what little precum there was, then tried to swallow him down deeper. He stopped you with the hand in your hair and you let out a long, needy whine. 

“Don’t be a brat.” You blushed at the tone he used to scold you, feeling like a child. You obeyed with a pout and mouthed at the tip of his cock, clasping your hands together so they wouldn’t subconsciously move from your back. 

He started pushing you down, then back up, agonizingly slow. When you looked up at him again, he cursed under his breath and started moving you a little faster. You hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock, trying hard to impress him and earn his praise. But all you got was a soft sigh. 

You whined, wanting to pull off so you could beg for more. He just shushed you and kept up the slow pace of shallow thrusts. 

“Please.” You tried to say around him, the word coming out garbled and almost incoherent. 

“What, this isn’t enough for you?” He suddenly pulled you off and you panted as you caught your breath. 

“Fuck my throat.” You gasped out, cheeks heating up. “Please.” You added so it didn’t seem like a demand. He pushed you back down, resuming the original pace. 

“I’m surprised it took murder for them to put you in here. I would’ve thought it’d be nymphomania.” You moaned at the subtle degradation and squeezed your thighs together, aching to reach a hand between your legs. He finally sped up, but kept his thrusts shallow, barely even brushing the back of your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked harder, trying to make it even better. “That’s it… Put that mouth to good use for once.” You didn’t let the insult deter you. 

He suddenly forced you all the way down and you choked, not expecting it. Holding your hair tight enough to make your head throb, he kept you there, his cock buried so deep that your nose was against his pelvis. With the lack of air and the pressure on your gag reflex, your eyes were watering and you looked up at him with a muffled whimper, making him curse under his breath. 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cry? I thought you wanted this?” He sneered, making you whine. He pulled you back until just the tip was in your mouth and let you take in a deep breath before shoving you back down. Rather than holding you there, he started bobbing your head up and down his cock, breaching your throat barrier each time. You couldn’t help the way you gagged and choked, but you didn’t dare try to pull away. 

“I thought a whore like yourself would’ve been good at this.” He said, disappointed. Your brows furrowed, not able to express your frown any other way. When he removed his hands, your expression turned into one of confusion. “Go ahead, nympho. Prove that you deserve to suck my cock.” You moaned around him, but quickly stepped up to the challenge. 

You were moving much slower than he was, choking each time you forced yourself all the way down, but determined not to give up. When you looked up at him, he almost seemed bored as he watched you. You pulled off and he raised his brows in a silent question. 

“Can I please use my hands?” You asked quietly, voice already hoarse. 

“No.” With a pout, you shuffled closer and leaned down, this time aiming for his balls. His spit soaked cock rested on your face, furthering your humiliation and arousal. You licked at them before sucking one into your mouth, making him let out a pleased sigh. You worked it over in your mouth for a few seconds before moving to the other one to do the same. 

You licked up along the underside of his cock with a small smirk— he was practically pulsing because of how hard he was. When you reached the tip, you licked up the precum with a low moan, then took him back in your mouth, immediately going all the way down. 

He let you control the pace for a few more thrusts before grabbing your hair again and speeding up. When he let out a low groan, you quickly looked up to see his face, finding him with his lips slightly parted and his eyes half lidded and he stared down at you. He forced you all the way down, then held you there, and you whimpered around him, trying to control your gag reflex. 

“Lick my balls.” You furrowed your brows, still looking up at him, and he all but rolled his eyes. “Fucking lick them.” He spat, jerking your head down even though your lips were already at the base. You stuck your tongue out and tried to obey, making him groan. 

“There you go…” He placed both hands on the sides of your head for a better grip, then started roughly pulling you up and down. You choked and sputtered, but his grip was unmoving. “Fuck— Keep this up and I might just let this happen again.” He said through a breath, making your stomach flutter at the thought. 

He continued using your mouth practically as a fleshlight, ignoring your gagging and muffled sounds, focusing solely on his orgasm. After what felt like minutes but was probably just seconds, you felt your body start to try and pull away from the brutal attack on your throat. Even though your mind didn’t want you to, your body was panicking. His moans grew louder and you begged your body to endure just a little longer, needing him to come down your throat. 

“Stop fucking fighting it, bitch. You wanted this, so take it.” He growled, moving you faster and pushing you down harder. Your eyes burned with tears and it wasn’t long before they started falling, making him even more frenzied and desperate. His hips were bucking into you now as he forced your head up and down his cock, barely pulling you back more than halfway. 

After only a few more thrusts, he forced you all the way down with a low groan, using both hands to keep you there with your nose buried in his pelvis. His hips would occasionally buck into you as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned at the feeling of his come hitting your throat, but wished you could taste him too. Once his cock stopped twitching and his sounds died down, he finally loosened his grip enough to let you pull back and you coughed almost violently as he panted. 

“Satisfied?” He asked through a breath, looking down at you. 

“For now.” You smirked, but batted your eyes at him innocently. He released your hair and you frowned, but didn’t protest any further. 

“Clean it.” He ordered and you eagerly dove back in to lick at his softening cock. You were more just enjoying tasting him rather than cleaning up all of your spit… which he seemed to notice. “I said, clean it.” You looked up at him, but when you were met with a warning glare, you just huffed and did as he said, licking his cock and balls to clean him as much as possible. “Put it back now.” Despite the fact that you wanted nothing more than to do the opposite, you tucked his softening cock back in his pants and fastened them before buckling his belt. 

“Good.” Your heart practically stopped at the sudden praise. “Sit back down.” You frowned, but obeyed, waiting for the next command. “Trust that if you touch yourself before our next session, I will know, and I will have someone else take over as your psychiatrist. Do you understand?” Your frown deepened as a needy whine left you and he raised his brows in response, challenging you, making you huff. 

“Yes..” You muttered, looking at the table as you slouched in your chair, sulking. The next few days are going to be absolute torture. 

Taglist (join here)

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[bennyden]

User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism. 

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it. 

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here. 

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately. 

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now. 

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did. 

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping. 

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave. 

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us. 

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from. 

Thanks for reading.

[loki-cees-all]

Hello and hi, my lovely!

I have this scenario for you that I sometimes think about.

How would Loki react if you (the mortal he might have feelings for but he’s not quite certain yet) were the only one to acknowledge his birthday? Maybe you put up a few balloons and even buy him a little cupcake with a candle on it? How would he react?

Happiest of birthdays to you! You’re a joy to know!! I love you!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Cupcake For a God {Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader

Summary : Loki’s birthday is approaching, and it forces himself to reconcile who he wants to be versus who he actually is, and to reflect on his almost certainly unrequited feelings for you.

But what if the feelings weren’t unrequited?

W/c : 1.9k words

Content/Warnings : Angst, a bit of fluff

Author's Note : I swear I tried so hard to make this not so angsty! Please forgive me, Saz! 😭😭😭

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

There were a lot of things for Loki to dislike about living on Midgard. 

For starters, he was being forced to live there, inside Stark Tower with the other Avengers as penance for his crimes. It was only fitting, they’d told him, that he should assist in their efforts to keep the mortals safe because he was the reason they needed protecting in the first place.

Loki didn’t bother telling them what Thanos had done to him after he fell from the Bifrost; truthfully, he still didn’t quite understand it himself. That entire year was a blur to him - a painful concoction of lies and manipulations and tears and blood that left him unable to tell the difference between fact and fiction, even almost two years after the torture had began. 

He didn’t want anyone to know how weak he was, about how much he’d lost himself. If they knew how vulnerable he was, they might decide he wasn’t worth the trouble and send him to the dungeons of Asgard instead. 

Another thing he disliked was the forced pleasantries and unnecessary rituals humans had developed with each other, and by extension, him. The humans would smile as they past him by on the street, but it was a falsity every time; the sentiment never reached their eyes, and Loki could smell their fear from several blocks away. 

Loki knew they didn’t actually care how his day was going, that their concern only went as far as making sure he wasn’t on the verge of invading with another alien force under his command. He wasn’t, but honestly, if it meant everyone kept their distance, then he wasn’t going to argue with it. 

It wasn’t fair to say that Loki preferred being alone, but he was certainly used to it, and that was in direct contradiction of the forced socialization he had to endure on Midgard - press conferences, team building exercises (which Loki believed was just an excuse to consume copious amounts of food and drink), training sessions, something called “movie nights”, and missions across the world to dismantle S.H.I.E.L.D.’s various bunkers and bases. 

It was so much talking, and even more listening. So much lying and pretending that everything was fine, that Loki didn’t feel like a caged monster, and that everyone else wasn’t waiting for the littlest thing to completely set him off. 

But Loki was trying as hard as he could to ignore the dull ache that haunted his dreams and every waking moment. He knew he had hurt people, he knew he needed to make up for his grievous transgressions, but he didn’t know how else to make up for it all. So he pressed on, through the discomfort and awkwardness, in the hope that one day everything might become a little easier.

The one bright side to all of this, the one shimmering ray of light amidst the sea of gray, was you. Loki didn’t quite know what to make of his attraction to you - was it real, or was it just your absence of fear in his presence? Had it just been too long since he’d felt the touch of another, or were you actually everything he’d ever wanted?

Loki almost didn’t want to find out, in case it wasn’t real. Because your smile reached your eyes every time you looked at him, and your laughter was like sparks blowing across the embers of a dying fire…but he couldn’t shake the fear that it could just be another trick. 

Perhaps his mind still hadn’t fully recovered from Thanos’ torture. Maybe Thor had put you up to this, as a way of making assimilation easier for him. 

Because why else would you look at him like that? Why would you go out of your way to sit next to him during the team’s movie nights? Why else would you lean towards him on the couch and fall asleep against the shoulder of a villain, of a monster, of a fool? 

It was stupid, and pointless, and illogical, and just like him to irrationally want something he couldn’t ever have. He was a God, and you were a mortal, and it would ultimately end in heartache either way. So while he had the chance, Loki forced himself to remain content and to just linger in the question of what if you could want him too. 

The final thing about Midgard, and the one he despised the most, was the mortal obsession with birthdays. Loki was grateful the Asgardians never paid any attention to such silly and exhausting traditions - which was surprising, considering how much Asgardians loved frivolity. 

So he really shouldn’t have been shocked when Thor discovered, and subsequently fell in love with, the concept of birthdays. His brother immediately requested his mortal companion Jane to perform the necessary calculations to determine the Midgardian equivalent of Thor’s birthdate - and Loki’s as well, which his brother gleefully announced to the entire team and embarrassed him to the deepest pits of his soul. 

A massive celebration was planned for Thor, with enough food and drink to sustain a small country, and on the special night, flashing lights and loud music bathed the massive common room of Stark Tower in merriment and laughter. Everyone was invited, and it would have been rude for Loki to not make an appearance - but it wasn’t because he wanted to admire you in your party dress, although that was a very lovely bonus. 

But as gorgeous as you looked - the longer the party went on, the sadder Loki became. Everyone was talking, smiling, and dancing, congratulating Thor on his many accomplishments and swapping happy stories of all the good times they’d had together. It was painful to witness, to know for a fact that no such party would be happening for himself when his birthday rolled around. 

Loki tried telling himself that he didn’t want it, and that he’d be miserable during it. He tried convincing himself that it would be too loud, and too bawdy, and vain, and that he didn’t need other people’s reassurances that they were happy he was there with them. He told himself he didn’t need it at all, that he was completely fine without it. But it was a lie, so of course it didn’t work. 

As the days approached to Loki’s birthday, he became even more withdrawn than usual. With the exceptions of necessary missions or training, he stopped leaving his room. He was silent during travel on the Quinjet, and refused your invitations to further movie nights, even though the disappointment on your face ripped him apart in ways he’d never experienced before. 

He felt like he deserved to suffer, to collapse in on himself like a dying star because he knew he’d never be worthy of the love and attention his older brother seemed to collect so effortlessly. It wasn’t Thor’s fault; it was just Loki’s lot in life. And the further he receded, the more likely his heartache would be justified, and he couldn’t be surprised if he was already disappointed.

The evening of his birthday was the worst night he’d experienced in a long time, not since the day he let go of the Bifrost. Loki didn’t even come out of his room for dinner that night, choosing instead to feast on pain, and anguish, and regret, and all the feelings he hadn’t ever had the time to process over his thousand years of existence. 

Thor tried several times to lure him out of his room, to no avail. Loki wouldn’t leave - no, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t bring himself to witness the fact that they’d done nothing special for him, even though he’d be furiously uncomfortable if they did. 

As the hours passed, he tried to distract himself with sleep, and then reading, but neither did the trick. Eventually, he curled up on the window seat of his private quarters, wrapped himself in furs and pressed his forehead against the glass, watching the tiny little mortals going about their nights in blissful ignorance of the god suffering fifty floors above them. 

And Loki was so lost that he could barely respond to the cautious knock on his door, the one that threatened to pull him away from his misery. But his heart leapt in his throat when he heard your voice calling his name, and he wanted so much to let you in, to feel you next to him. 

But the urge to say something cruel, to push you away and continue on alone, was just as strong. Loki didn’t know which to concede to, even as his feet slowly carried him to the door. He didn’t know what he was going to say, even while his fingers raked through his messy curls and rubbed the pain from his eyes. 

He felt ridiculous as he hesitated to open the door; he was a God, and once the most fearsome villain this entire planet had ever seen - but here he was, nervous and split open and too raw to simply open a door and look upon a beautiful woman while he was hiding away from his birthday. 

There was a soft rustling sound on the other side of the door, and Loki’s forehead rested against the wood as he heard your footsteps quietly retreating down the hallway. He’d waited too long, paralyzed by his self-indulgent indecision, and it had pushed you away. 

He thought about yanking the door open and calling after you. He considered begging for you to come back. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around you and to pull you closer, but all he could manage was to gently pull the door open after he was sure you were gone. 

On the floor of the hallway, waiting patiently and comfortably for him, was a beautifully-decorated cupcake and a note resting on a small paper plate. A single candle rose out of the emerald and sapphire swirls of frosting, and the pink paper was folded in half, with his name written in the loveliest cursive on the outside. 

Loki fought back tears as he retrieved the gift from the floor, and he cautiously balanced the plate in one hand while holding the note in the other. 

Hey Loki,

I know birthdays are hard; they’re hard for me too. But hopefully this treat makes you smile, even just for a second. 

I’ll be awake for a little while longer - stop by my room if you need to talk. I promise I won’t find it weird :) 

XOXO

P.S. I’m really glad you’re here, even if you’re not ready to accept that yet. 

He swallowed hard as he stared at the most generous gift he’d ever received. He didn’t know if you even fully understood what you’d just done for him. He fervently wanted to go after you, and he desperately wanted to continue hiding. 

But you’d extended an invitation, one he could feasibly take you up on. No one would argue it wasn’t in his right to do so. And Gods above, he wanted to, more than anything else he’d ever wanted. But would it be worth it, or would it just make everything worse? 

Loki tore his damp and heavy eyes away from the note and glanced up and down the hallway. He shut his door, just as quietly as he’d opened it, wondering if it would be a mistake to allow his heart guide him to where he’d rather be. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

[bunnis-monsters]

Commissions are open!

You can commission me by messaging me here or discord if interested!

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Any discounts?: N/A

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Disclaimer: I have the right to turn down anyone for any reason I see fit. I can give you a time that I can start on your fic, but because I am human and have responsibilities outside of commissions, some may be late or take longer than I originally thought. If you are in a rush for your commission, please tell me so I can move you up the list! I am very willing to work with you on getting your fic out faster, but please tell me when you request the commission, not after. Otherwise, I will work on it at my own pace ^^

[naughtyneganjdm]

Comfort Zone

Summary: Being shy was always a problem, but when Negan expresses interest in you, you have to step outside of your comfort zone in order to get the one thing you have wanted for years.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person). 

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49606555

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, smut, rough sex, masturbation, just filth really, etc.

Notes: I asked for people to give a me a few ideas to write something short and quick...I was given the reader is shy and she is finally bold enough to take what she wants. So here it is. Hope you like it. @murphslass

What were you supposed to do when you were shy and the object of your desires was one of the most charismatic people you had ever met? That was something you could never quite figure out when it came to Negan.

Toward the beginning of when the world started to fall to shit, you were one of the first people that Negan had found with The Sanctuary. And you were loyal. Very loyal. But you were incredibly shy. It was a problem that you had since you were younger. Anyone who knew Negan would have known that he was the complete opposite. So when you were at The Sanctuary, it was really hard to stand out. Especially when you were around him. The biggest problem was that you always had a thing for Negan. Add that in with your shyness and that meant that you were never able to tell him. So you kind of just disappeared into the background. It was the small interactions that you appreciated. But it was never much.

When Alexandria defeated The Sanctuary, they brought you in with open arms. Hell, you were just someone living at The Sanctuary at the time. It didn’t hurt coming to Alexandria knowing that Negan was still here. While it terrified others to know that he was still living there, you found comfort in it. And when they started giving Negan more duties around Alexandria, allowing him to be outside his cell you were happy for him.

On occasion you would be the person that would bring him his meals, but you were still too shy to make small talk with Negan. Considering you had the hots for him for years it made things awkward for you. Even when he himself was trying to talk to you, you found yourself turning away. And as of late he was trying quite a bit. You assumed it was because he was lonely, you just didn’t find the strength you needed to talk back much.  

Here you were again. Standing outside the door to his cell holding onto one of the platters carrying his lunch. Trying to coach yourself to finally say something and create some small talk between the two of you, you bit down on your tongue and sighed. Today was the day.

Carefully turning the knob to the door, you pushed open the door and felt your heart skip a beat when you stopped your movements. Laying stretched out across his small bed in his cell was Negan with his pants down at his hips and his shirt pushed up toward the middle of his chest. His long fingers were curled around his swollen cock while he was jerking off. Immediately you thought of turning around and letting him have his moment, but at that moment he didn’t notice that you were there. His head was tipped back with his eyes closed shut tightly. He was biting down on his bottom lip trying to stifle the faint, raspy moans that were still falling from his throat no matter how hard he was trying to hide them. His left was wrapped around the base of his erection while his right stroked over his solid manhood.

“Fuck…” Negan growled out and hearing him like that made a chill run down your spine. In all the time that you had known Negan of course you had pictured something like this. It was like something out of your own dreams, but you couldn’t believe that it was actually happening.

Something that resembled a whine fell from Negan’s throat and his lips parted. Soft pants were falling from him and it brought attention to the bulging vein at the side of his neck. You didn’t know where to look. Did you watch the pleasure that was flooding his sexy features while he jerked off or did you focus on his surprisingly nice cock that was throbbing in his grasp?

Another moan fell from Negan’s throat, his hips arching up toward his caress bringing your attention to his cock again. Your throat went dry looking at it. It was thick, with prominent veins running up and down the shaft. It was lengthy and the way he was caressing his fingers over his body drew attention to the mushroom shaped tip. Negan had a very nice dick and it did leave you surprised to see. Especially with the arrogance. When people were often cocky like Negan, it wasn’t very likely that they had something to match that ego, but he did.

His breathing grew louder, his hand moving faster over his body with his hips bucking up toward his grasp. Desperate pants were filling the air from his parted lips and you felt your heart racing at the sight. His left hand released the base to caress up and over his slender abdomen toward his chest. His raspy moans grew stronger alerting you to the fact he was about to come, but right as he was about to, he tipped his head back and his eyes opened.

Once Negan saw you, his eyes grew wide, your name falling from his parted lips when the first line of his cum shot out from the tip covering his lower abdomen and a few more ropes of cum followed. Jolting his body, Negan turned away from you. The muscles in his small bottom flexing when his orgasm clearly continued.

“Fuck. Shit. Fucking hell,” Negan’s worried breaths were followed with involuntary moans while he tried to pull up his pants. Breathlessly, Negan eagerly reached for the tissues in attempts to clean himself up. Maybe you should have turned away, but your body was frozen. Standing up from the bed, you saw that Negan’s cock was still twitching after its release and he was swiftly trying to push it back beneath the material of his boxer briefs before working together his pants. “I am so fucking sorry. I am so…so sorry.”

Curling your fingers around the platter that they had put his lunch on, you lowered your eyes and heard Negan’s labored breathing still filling the air. Lifting your gaze, you saw that he was standing at the bars of his cell, his fingers curled around them while his hazel eyes stared out at you.

“Shit,” Negan looked down toward the center of his pants and he adjusted his hips showing that the material was still straining to his body. Huffing out, Negan’s eyebrows furrowed and he raised his eyes back up to yours. There were goosebumps over your arms and even if it made you a pervert, you were incredibly turned on. “I swear I didn’t know you were coming down here,” a laugh fell from his throat when he shook his head, “I thought I would be the only one coming down here.”

Licking your lips, you headed to set the platter down at the edge of the bars and there was an amused smirk over Negan’s handsome features. That was obviously a joke he was trying to drop to lighten the mood, but you didn’t react at all.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just bringing you your meal and I…” you began finding it hard to keep eye contact with Negan. Hell, he caught you red handed watching him jerking off. You were embarrassed to say the least.

“I’m sure that’s not what you were expecting to see,” Negan cleared his throat uncomfortably, his dimples sinking in while he stared out at you. “I usually hear people coming down the stairs, but I guess I was in the middle of the act and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I totally understand,” you waved your hand about not sure of what to say when Negan brushed his fingers through his damp hair. “It looked like you were enjoying yourself and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

A faint chuckle fell from Negan’s throat and you damned yourself for saying something so stupid. Shaking your head, you started to backstep toward the door assuming that he thought you were an idiot for saying what you did.

“Hey,” Negan called out once you made it to the door. Stopping, you kept your head down before gazing back over your shoulder at him. “Did you enjoy what you saw?”

There was curiosity in Negan’s eyes when you turned to face him and your hand was still holding onto the doorknob ready to run away like all the times before.

“Because it was you I was thinking about,” Negan slurred, his long eyelashes fluttering while staring out at you.

“Don’t fuck with me,” you breathed out with a long sigh knowing that was likely the furthest thing from the truth. “You weren’t thinking about me. You hardly even know me. I’m the least noticeable person around.”

“I’m not fucking with you. And fuck, I happen to disagree with you,” Negan spoke up, his eyes narrowing. “You always stood out. Even at The Sanctuary you stood out to me. So that’s bullshit.”

“You knew I was there?” you questioned hearing Negan let out a half laugh, his head tipping to the side. Sure, the two of you had talked a few times at The Sanctuary, but you always felt like a loner there. “You would have never known it.”

“No, because I wasn’t flirting with you all the time trying to test out if you would have been comfortable being one of my wives or anything,” Negan snorted, his eyebrows arching when you lowered your hands at your sides. “At first, I thought you didn’t like me because you were always running off and shit. So I never asked. But after seeing you right now, I don’t think that’s the case. You’re fucking shy, aren’t you?”

Searching for the right words to say, you had nothing and it made you sigh when Negan started to speak up again, “What’s not to like? You’re beautiful, you’re loyal, you’re kind…you just need to step outside your comfort zone a little. I saw the way you were looking at me, why never make your move?”

“I uh…I have to go,” you felt your face flushing over and you stepped back toward the stairs hearing Negan calling out your name but at this point you were too embarrassed to speak. So you did what you did best and ran away.

Later that day you were out late working around Alexandria and you saw Negan was being shadowed by Brandon. Once Negan spotted you, he spoke to Brandon about something and he headed over toward you from where you were working on gardening duty.

“Hey,” Negan uttered, reaching to pull the hat he was wearing from his head. Pushing his fingers back through his hair, Negan cleared his throat and tossed his hands up after he put his hat back on. “I was thinking…maybe the next time you come down to give me one of my meals, maybe you can stay. We can talk. Get to know one another or some shit. It can be like a first date. That is if you’re interested.”

“Really?” you breathed out, resting back on your knees and Negan nodded his head. While that sounded nice, you knew you were shy and would likely turn him off by acting that way. Especially after he told you earlier that you needed to step outside of your comfort zone. “I don’t know Negan.”

“Am I reading everything wrong?” Negan wondered, waving his hands about and his facial expression twisting. “Was I wrong about things? If that’s the case I just made a total ass of myself today, didn’t I? I am so sorry.”

“Hey…” you called out to him when Negan shook his head and held his hands up.

“You know what? It’s been a long time since I’ve done this whole flirting thing and maybe I’m rusty,” Negan backstepped toward the large amounts of laundry they had him doing. “Just ignore my idiot self and…I’m so sorry. About earlier, about this…don’t worry about it.”

By the time you finally had the courage to even speak up again Negan was already headed back toward the laundry and you cussed to yourself. Why couldn’t you just fucking say something? Negan was everything you wanted. Instead of heading back over there, you just kept up with your work and damned yourself for being this shy. Negan was saying everything you could ever want to hear earlier, why couldn’t you just believe it?

When night fell and the only light that was still available was that coming from the houses and the moon that was shining bright, you could see that Negan was still out finishing the laundry that he had been drying out all day. Sitting on the steps from the porch of the home you lived in, you watched him. It looked like Brandon had left for some reason.

Getting up from the steps, you made your way toward the laundry that Negan was taking down. Negan tossed another sheet into the pile that he had behind him that he would fold after he got them down from the lines. It was like a maze of sheets blowing in the wind when you approached Negan from behind.

“Negan,” you called out his name and he looked back over his shoulder at you. Turning on his heel, his hazel eyes were confused when you approached him. Grabbing a tight hold of the blue button down they had him wearing, you tugged him down toward you and claimed his lips in a forceful kiss. Stumbling forward, Negan groaned against your lips sending a vibration through them that made you moan.

“Whoa,” Negan breathed out when you pulled away. His tongue dragged out across his bottom lip and he smiled. Stroking your fingers over the back of his neck, you curled the longer hair at the bottom his neck around them before firmly shoving into Negan. Gasping out, Negan grumbled when he fell into the pile of sheets and clothes that he had tossed behind him. In a way, you two were hidden by the sheets that were still hanging from the lines. Adjusting his body, Negan watched when you carefully kicked out of your shoes, your fingers sliding in over the button of your jeans. Pulling it apart, Negan’s eyes watched carefully when you pushed them down your legs. “What are you doing?”

“Stepping out of my comfort zone. I’ve always wanted you Negan. I’ve just been too damn shy to take what I want, but I’m sick of that,” you muttered knowing that after what you had seen earlier with Negan it had left you aching in the worst possible of ways. “Seeing you earlier touching yourself like that turned me on more than you will ever know.”

“Yeah?” Negan’s breathing grew louder when you hooked your fingers into your panties pushing them down along with your jeans. Bravery was not something that came normally to you, but right now you were being bold because you wanted Negan and you wanted him bad.

Lowering down, you crawled in over Negan and eagerly reached for his belt to pull it apart, “If you don’t want this, tell me now before I make a fool of myself.”

“No, I want this. I want this a lot,” Negan responded reaching down to help you get his pants open. While you worked at the material, Negan reached for your shirt to pull it from your body and toss it aside. “I can’t promise you I’m going to last entirely too long because it’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I will fucking try.”

“Good, because I have no idea where that little creeper Brandon is and the last thing we need is him watching us,” you felt your heart hammering inside of your chest with Negan’s lips kissing down over your chest with his fingers reaching around you in attempts to unhook your bra. Managing to get Negan’s pants down his hips, you crawled in over Negan and grabbed a hold of his semi-erect cock. “You’ve just left me aching all day after what I saw you doing earlier and if I don’t have you inside of me right now, I might combust.”

“I wouldn’t want that,” Negan slurred, his head tipping back when your free hand reached to push the baseball cap that he was wearing from his head. His hair was messy and it was dark, but you could still see the longing in his eyes amongst the moonlight. Once Negan got your bra unhooked, he helped pull the material from your body before his large hands reached up to cup your breasts in a tender squeeze. “God, you are so fucking beautiful. Y’know that?”

Caressing over Negan’s cock fueled you more than you could ever imagine. Just having him grow solid in your grasp had your core throbbing with a fire growing in the pit of your belly. Lifting up just enough, Negan managed to get his button down off before swiftly working to get his t-shirt from his body. Bringing the two of you closer together, you felt the hairs from his chest tickling at your breasts and it made you hum with approval.

“Brandon is eating by the way. The little shit seems to trust me enough to finish what I have to finish,” Negan explained, his kisses trailing up over the side of your neck, over your jawline and toward your lips. Each brush of his lips over yours felt incredible and you couldn’t help but purr when he moaned against your kiss when he was fully solid in your grasp. Working your hand carefully between the two of you, you traced the swollen tip of Negan’s cock between your folds and his mouth pulled from yours. Looking between the two of you, Negan sucked at his bottom lip while you tugged your fingers through his dark hair. Adjusting over his body, you led his length toward your wet pussy taking him inside of you with an eagerness that neither one of you were expecting. Both of you moaned out as you lowered your hips down over him wanting to feel all of him inside of you. “Fuck baby. You’re so wet. This is still from earlier?”

“Be quiet,” you instructed hooking your arms around his shoulders and bracing your knees to give you balance when you started rocking your hips over his length in enthusiastic movements. Shakily, Negan’s hands braced at your hips while his eyes connected with yours. “We don’t need people coming out here and seeing us like this.”

“Would that embarrass you?” Negan wondered, his squared jaw flexing while you enjoyed the way his body filled and stretched you. It had been so long since you were with someone and having Negan of all people inside of you fueled you all the more.

“No,” you shook your head, your lips hovering over his while you bounced steadily over his cock making him faintly moan against your flesh. “The only person’s opinion I care about here is you. I don’t care if someone sees me riding your big cock. I just don’t want you getting in trouble for it.”

“Fucking hell,” Negan winced while your tight canal clung to his throbbing erection. Burying his nose against the side of your neck, Negan did his best to stay quiet. Your fingers caressed over the long planes of his shoulders and toward his neck enjoying having him close like this. “You feel so fucking good.”

Crying out, you knew that you were desperate to make some kind of noise but knew you couldn’t. Now that Negan was inside of you, you never wanted him to leave. It felt that good with how hard he was. Pausing for a moment when you dropped down, your hips shook and you felt his fingers digging harder into your flesh.

“It was such a shame seeing you waste all of that cum earlier,” you muttered hearing Negan’s moan follow, his head tipping back to stare out at you with awe. It was obvious that what you said had shocked him, but he liked it. “I would have much preferred that it was me that you were pumping all of that cum into.”

“You’re dirty,” Negan mused with a smirk, his palms sliding up the lengths of your abdomen toward your breasts to caress over them. Your hips were trembling feeling him stagnant inside of you, but you wanted to remember exactly what it felt like having him solid, filling you, touching you and looking at you with so much desire. “You may be shy, but you’re not innocent in the least, are you?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” you purred tipping your head back when he lowered his head down to take your breast into his mouth. Lapping his tongue at your nipple Negan sucked faintly at the flesh before moving toward the other breast to do the same. Firmly grasping to your hips, Negan adjusted the both of you and planted his feet so he could start smacking up against you again and again. Wet sounds filled the night air and there was a cool brisk to it causing chills to flood your body.

“I just want you to be mine,” Negan alerted you knowing that neither one of you were really being as quiet as you should have been. You felt full with Negan’s cock inside of you. Your fingers were digging into his chest, possibly breaking the skin, you couldn’t see that well in the dark. But Negan seemed to be enjoying it. Rolling you over onto your back, Negan crawled in over you and reached for your wrists. Urging them up, he pushed them into the pile of clean clothes that were beneath you. There was a bit of strength with his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrists, but you liked it. Pounding into you with reckless abandon, Negan hovered his lips over yours and he kept his eyes locked on you wanting to watch every reaction you had to him fucking you. “I’d really love to come down your throat one day, but since you are so desperate to have a pussy full of my cum, I’d really hate to let you down.”

“You better make me come first,” you hummed and a wicked smirked tugged at the corners of his lips. Lowering down in closer to you, he adjusted his body so that the two of you were pressed up against each other. The weight of him over you felt incredible when he released your wrists and reach down to pull your hips up closer to his. Rolling his hips in calculated movements had your body arching toward his. The change in position had his groin rubbing up against yours with every plunge and pull his cock made inside of you. It brought forth an incredible amount of friction over your clitoris while the swollen tip of his cock was hitting your g-spot in all the right ways.

“That won’t be a problem,” he breathed out with a smug expression, his lips covering yours again and it was a smart decision because it was going to be hard to hide the sounds that you were starting to make. This wasn’t a way to draw things out. No, this was a way for him to make you come and come fast. Your body bounced upward with every thrust he made, but you clung tightly to him. Kissing Negan was intoxicating. It enhanced everything that much more. You weren’t used to this kind of deep penetration, but he was doing a hell of a job proving to you why you made the right decision tonight. “Think of all the orgasms you could have been having if you would have just made your move at The Sanctuary. This dick could have been yours this whole time.”

“It’s mine now,” you panted against Negan’s lips, an amused rumble vibrated against your mouth when he nodded. “And I want it inside of me as much as possible.”

“I won’t fight you on that darlin’,” Negan mused with an arch of his eyebrow when you brought him in closer to you so you could silence your moans with his kisses again. A rushing ache flooded to your head and you tried your best not to pull away from Negan’s kisses. Negan’s thrusts were fast at this point hitting everything just right enough to make your hips pull away from him. Biting into your bottom lip, you closed your eyes and felt everything shaking. Your body grew hot and you couldn’t believe just how good Negan delivered. “Well fuck, I’m going to have to be doing these clothes again tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“I am so sorry,” you apologized feeling Negan’s long fingers tracing lines over your wet sex after he had just drawn you to come and come hard. “I didn’t know I was capable of that.”

“You’re going to be having a lot of those now, so get used to them,” Negan’s fingers circled your sensitive clitoris before reaching back for his throbbing cock to let it enter you again. Teasing his lips over yours, Negan smiled and a wicked chuckle fell from his throat. “Never apologize for having those kind of orgasms. Ever. These clothes were doomed in the first place. I’m going to fill your pussy with my cum and I come a lot.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” you curled your fingers around Negan’s neck, leading him back to you and in no time, he was back at pounding inside of you. “Fill me up.”

“I’m almost there,” Negan alerted you, his moans growing more frequent. Having Negan use your body in a way to bring out the most intense amount of pleasure for him brought forth so much joy for you. You felt him throbbing inside of you, but also at the same time you heard movement. “Fuck…”

Stretching his arm out, Negan grabbed one of the sheets that was hanging and yanked on it hard enough to bring it down. Pulling it in over the two of you, the sound of movement didn’t stop Negan’s incredibly powerful thrusts. His head tipped back, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when his thrusts started to falter with the way that he was moving. Crying out, you tipped your head back feeling the pulsating of his hard cock inside of you. It was followed by the warmth of his cum filling you and God did it feel good. You asked and Negan was delivering.

With his forehead pressed to yours, it felt like the world was spinning and he still kept up with his movements until the very end making sure that he filled you with every drop of his release. Laying over you, Negan kissed over the side of your neck and you held onto him loving the sounds of him breathing heavily.

“Negan?” a voice called out making Negan turn his head to see that Brandon was pushing through the sheets. When he saw the two of you together it made Brandon’s eyes immediately drop. “Oh shit. I am so sorry. Are…you…okay?”

“I’m fine,” you went to move, but Negan shook his head and hushed you. Negan was still very much inside of you, but you were surprised that he wasn’t at all worried with Brandon standing over you like that.

“Listen, kid…” Negan grumbled, his breathing still loud enough for him to have to pause while he was talking. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to have sex. Do you think I can bring this beautiful woman with me to my cell so we can finish up? I promise to have her out by sunrise. In fact, I will be ready to finish all of this in the morning.”

“Negan, you know I’m not supposed to do that,” Brandon’s eyes shifted before letting out a tight breath. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

“Thanks kid. You’re a real lifesaver,” Negan gave an arrogant bob of his head and motioned Brandon to turn around. “Could you…”

“Of course,” Brandon immediately turned around and Negan was careful in the way that he managed to bring you up with him, keeping his cock still inside of you when he wrapped the sheet around the both of you to hide your naked bodies as much as possible.  

“I know this is a lot, but could you bring our clothes to my cell?” Negan requested back stepping slowly to bring you with him. Thankfully you weren’t that far away from his cell, but it was incredibly awkward still being pressed body to body with him with his cock inside of you. Getting down the stairs was the hardest part. His release was felt escaping somewhat as you both tripped down onto the small cot that he had. With the noise it made, you were surprised that it didn’t break.

“Try to be quiet, okay?” Brandon requested dropping the clothes that he had picked up for both of you at the corner of the cell. “And if you get caught, I didn’t do this.”

“Yeah, you’re a fucking champ kid,” Negan muttered when Brandon closed the door behind him when he left and Negan’s snicker fell from his throat. There was a small lantern at the corner of his cell giving more light to it than there was outside. “That kid hero worships me for some reason. They thought they were punishing me by putting that kid on me, but he really would let me get away with everything.”

“Is there a reason you made us walk back to the room with your cock still inside of me?” you pondered seeing the arrogant smirk tug at Negan’s lips. Getting up carefully, Negan finally pulled his now softening length from your body watching the pool of his cum pour out of you. Collecting some of it over his fingertips, Negan pushed his fingers back inside of you to coat the walls of your pussy with it. It made you whimper and tip your head back. “Negan…”

“I wanted to see your pussy full of my cum,” Negan informed you using some of the cum that had pushed out to stroke it back and forth over the lengths of your sex. “Plus, I liked watching you squirm with my cock inside of you and a stranger near.”

“You’re crazy,” you noted with a purr noticing the way that Negan drew shapes over your lower abdomen after he pulled his fingers from your sensitive body.

“But you like it,” Negan commented, his wolfish smile expanding over his handsome features. “I also was able to buy us some time until morning. Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll be able to add to what’s already inside of you. That’s if you’re interested of course.”

“I won’t tell you no,” you reached for him, pulling him in over you on the small cot. Adjusting his weight, Negan made sure to lay over you in a way that kept you comfortable while he stroked his fingers over the side of your face. Peppering faint kisses at your lips made Negan hum with a happy smirk tugging at his lips. “Although this is pretty nice too.”

“So you’re both a romantic and a freak,” Negan teased with a wink, nuzzling his nose in against yours while he laid in over you. “That’s good to know because I am too. And I’ll happily cuddle you for as long as possible because I live for this kind of shit doll. You have made my fucking day. I hope you know that.”

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.

Before you read:)

This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.

Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. ao3 link

Violet was waiting for Eddie in the common room. When the door opened, Brendon walked in first then Eddie came in. Eddie looked around with curious eyes and smiled when he saw Violet. She gave him an almost similarly warm smile as Eddie approached the table and sat down across from her. Violet looked around carefully to make sure no one was looking at them, then put her hands in her pockets and smiled. “I brought something for you.”

Eddie's eyes lit up. “Did you bring my walkman?” he asked, excitedly.

Violet gave him a slightly bitter smile. “No, but I think you'll like it anyway.”

She took a small chocolate bar out of her pocket, put it between her hands and handed it to Eddie. Eddie's eyes were brighter than ever. He looked around and surreptitiously took the chocolate from Violet's hand.

“Oh, my God! Violet... I don't know what to say. Thank you so much.”

He put it in his mouth and ate the whole chocolate bar in one bite. “It was the best thing I've eaten in days. In fact, it was the only thing I've eaten that looked like food for days. You'll go to heaven for this.”

It warmed Violet's heart to see Eddie happy. She wondered what it would be like if they had met in a world where he wasn't insane . Eddie liked the music Violet liked, he was always quoting Lord of the Rings . He even said that he played the guitar very well and claimed to have given the best concert in the world. A small note: This concert happened in an upside-down world.

She couldn't believe that Eddie had committed all these murders. Because Eddie seemed so smart and sane.

But there was a truth. Real psychopaths always know how to manipulate you. And most of them are very intelligent. When people think of a “psychopath”, they think of someone who walks around with an axe and terrorizes people, but this is only partly true. Most of the most famous serial killers are college graduates and well-placed.

But when Violet looked into Eddie's eyes, she saw nothing that made him dangerous. Eddie's gaze was different.

Violet looked at Eddie and thought, I promised him I would find out who reported him, and he would tell me what he had learned about this hospital. I was only coming here to talk to him, but he lives here. He had more information than me. And I need that information.

Some time ago, Robert the Prosecutor had moved into the guest house building where Violet was staying because he wanted to know as soon as possible what decision Violet would make. The guest building was very close to the main hospital building, three to five minutes on foot. That's why doctors and other hospital staff, who usually lived far away, sometimes used the rooms there. 

As much as Robert staying there had annoyed Violet at first, now it was up to her to turn it into an opportunity. Robert had a business briefcase that he always carried with him, in which he kept all the files on this case. The first day Violet had come to the hospital, when he had bribed her to give him Eddie's verdict right away, Violet had realized that everything was in that briefcase. If she could get to that bag and the files, she could find out who had reported Eddie, the name was there somewhere. The only problem was how to get to the briefcase.

Violet turned to Eddie and asked gently, “What day is it?”

She asked this question every time they met, because she wanted to make sure Eddie hadn't lost his sense of time and space. Eddie leaned his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He licked his lips and smiled.

“It's Wednesday.”

A smile appeared on his face, but it was quickly wiped away. “Violet, can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” Violet said, nodding her head.

Eddie took a deep breath and said, “What's your favorite music? I mean, something that when you listen to it, you say, 'This song was written for me.' ”

Such a question was unexpected for Violet. She thought for a while. “I think it's Dream On, ” she said. “Why do you ask?”

Eddie smiled. “Uh, well. I’m just curious.”

There was silence for a while. Then Eddie whispered, “I hope I never have to use it.”

After a few seconds of silence, Violet decided to go back to her routine questions. Time passed so fast when she was talking to him that sometimes she lost track of time. When their therapy session was over, Violet stood up and held out her hand. 

Eddie shook it and gave her a wicked smile. “I think that's as close as I'm going to get to a woman during my stay here,” he said, unable to contain his laughter.

Violet could imagine that her face was as red as a tomato from blushing. She turned away, holding herself back from laughing. 

When she walked out the hospital door and breathed in the gloomy air, she thought, “Jesus, Eddie, I hope you're crazy. Please be crazy. Because if you're not, you're going to die.”

As she entered the building she was staying in and started to go up the stairs, she stopped in front of Robert's room. Suddenly she had an idea and she rang the doorbell. 

Robert opened the door without making any sense. It wasn't hard to guess that he wasn't expecting to see Violet.

“Violet... What are you doing here?” he said, with surprise in his eyes.

“I came to talk to you about what position I want to rise to,” Violet replied, placing a smile on her face that she thought was impressive.

Robert leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms skeptically. He was so tall that Violet had to look up when he spoke to her.

“The last time this came up, you said I was garbage and that you felt sorry for people like me. What changed your mind?”

Violet smiled, raising her hand in the air as if chasing imaginary dust. “I think after my conversations with Eddie Munson, I'm more and more convinced that he's not crazy. He could really be a brutal killer and he could be pretending to be crazy. So in that case I want to know what I stand to gain if I write a report saying that he is not crazy. If I hear what I want, maybe the paper you want will be on your desk tomorrow.”

The satisfied smile spread across Robert's face in a way he couldn't hide, maybe he didn't want to hide it. He stepped aside and motioned for Violet to come in. 

When Violet came in, all she had to do was find that file. She was sure she could do it. She had to . Because she was risking her career and even her own life for Eddie. She didn't know why she was doing it. But she felt like she must.

In the evening, Eddie was laying in his cell, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the time had passed. He had no choice anyway, there were so limited things to do here.

Suddenly there was the sound of the door creaking. He looked up to see John standing in the doorway and gesturing with his head for him to come in with him.

They walked together to the main hallway. He grabbed John's arm, pulled him a little and leaned into his ear. “How are we going to get upstairs with all these guards here?” 

John put a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Thank God, this man always had a plan. He walked over to a huge patient standing in front of him. He went over and whispered something in the patient’s ear and patted him on the shoulder. Then he came back to Eddie, leaned against the stair railing and smiled. “Now watch,” he said.

The effect of what John whispered in his ear was immediate: The patient became enraged and suddenly attacked the nurse. Other nurses and guards rushed to the area, trying to pull the patient back. Other patients were screaming and running away, trying to find shelter in panic. Some acted as if nothing had happened and walked away, or continued to live in their own imaginary world.

John nudged Eddie with a tap on the shoulder. “Come on, hurry up, let's go now.”

As they hurried up the stairs, Eddie asked curiously, “What did you say to him?”

John chuckled and said laughing, “I just told him that nurse called him a chicken, he hates that word.”

Eddie and John hurried into the manager's office and closed the door. While John was checking the door, Eddie rushed to the phone on the desk. He started dialing the number and held the receiver to his ear.

“Hello?”

When he heard Steve's voice, Eddie felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: safety . Without wasting any more time, he quickly got to the point. “Steve, I don't have much time. I need you to come and pick me up tomorrow night. Meet me a few kilometers from the back door of the hospital around eight or nine o'clock at night. Okay? It's very important.”

Steve's voice was full of both surprise and concern, “Eddie? What are you talking about? How and where are you calling me? Listen, I need to tell you something very important.”

Eddie, keeping the conversation short, said, “I'll tell you everything, but I have to get out of here now. Will you come? Please tell me you're coming. My life is on the line.”

Steve took a deep breath on the phone. “Okay, I'll come, but listen to me - there's something you need to know -”

John suddenly gestured for Eddie to stop talking. Eddie hung up the phone without letting Steve finish his sentence.

They heard someone's footsteps approaching, John rushed over and they ducked under the table and hid. There was the sound of the door opening and Eddie gasped and used his hand to cover his mouth. The person who had entered the room took a few steps and then stopped. A few seconds later there were more footsteps and the door closed again.

Eddie finally let go of the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding for how many minutes. He took a deep breath and stood up, but his head was spinning and he grabbed one of the shelves on the side for balance. A few files fell to the floor with the impact of his hand.

John quickly bent down to pick them up. “Wait a minute...” he said. He waved the file in his hand and showed it to Eddie. “Do you know what this is, Eddie?”

Eddie shook his head negatively.

“This is our ticket out of here,” John continued. “When they arrested me, all the evidence I found was left in my car. I was hoping maybe they'd find it and come and get me out of here. I've been waiting all this time for them to come and save me. But these files have been here all along, the bastards have been holding on to them all this time. Of course they did... what was I thinking?”

“But isn't this Manager Wilson's office?” Eddie asked in surprise.

John nodded his head in agreement and replied, “He's in on it. What do you think, Eddie? A doctor in his hospital is going to riddle his patients full of holes and inject who knows what into their bodies and the manager doesn't know about it? You're so clueless.”

What John said was true. Eddie scratched his head in thought and whispered, “You're right,” as he looked at the file in John's hand.

John continued to shake the file. “We need to keep this until tomorrow. After we escape from here tomorrow night, we can use it to shut this place down for good. Arthur will get the death row he deserves. And you and me, man - we'll be found innocent.’’

Eddie was silent for a moment, then looked at John and spoke. “John... Maybe I shouldn't come. No one would notice if you ran away, but the whole world knows me. They'll come after us. You can clear yourself, but when they catch me, they'll either bring me back here or buy me a one-way ticket to the death chair.”

John put a hand on Eddie's shoulder and said, “Let's get out of here first. We'll prove you're innocent too. I know that, Eddie.”

Eddie frowned and said, “You may know that. I know that too. But there's only one person who can prove my innocence, and she's been in a coma for three years. Even if she wakes up, it's impossible for her to remember what happened. Every day she doesn't wake up, she loses brain functions. The doctors say it will be a miracle if she can even remember her own name.”

John looked at Eddie with determination on his face and said, “I'll never let them kill you, Eddie. You're my only friend.''

For a moment Eddie did nothing but nod his head and smile. 

They hurried back to their cell, without being seen by anyone, Eddie hiding the file in the cover of his pillow. But it wasn't long before a siren sounded. It was so loud that Eddie had to cover his ears with his hands. When the electric doors all opened automatically, the whole corridor was flooded with lights, the sounds from the patients' cells mingling together. Eddie nervously stepped out into the corridor. All the other patients were doing the same. When John, who was in the cell two doors down from Eddie, came out, he looked at him from where he was. Something was clearly wrong. 

Manager Wilson and the guards behind him were walking briskly. One by one, the guards were going into the rooms, forcing out the patients who wouldn't come out of their rooms and putting them in line down the corridor. Each one was looking for something inside the cells.

Manager Wilson shouted, “There have been little thieves in my room. Pray that what they stole doesn't come out of one of your rooms.''

Dr. Arthur was there too. He pointed to Eddie and said, “Look in his cell.''

Two guards ran into Eddie's room. Eddie was shaking but he was trying to stay calm, he kept making eye contact with John - John was no different. He was scared too.

When the guard came out with the file, he said, “I think we found the thief,” and smiled slyly. 

“Get him,” Manager Wilson ordered, breathing angrily.

The guards grabbed Eddie's hands roughly, clasped them behind his back and began handcuffing him. When Eddie tried to break free, he was kicked in the stomach. 

As the guards started dragging him down the corridor, he barely looked up and looked at John, who was trying to get past the guards to get to Eddie, shouting, “Stop! He didn't do it! It was me! I stole them and I put them in Eddie's room so it wouldn't be found on me.''

Dr. Arthur nodded his head in satisfaction, as if he had expected this, and gestured to John, “Take this partner in crime to my operating room.’’ Then he turned to Eddie and said, “And this one, take him to the electroshock room.’’

Eddie's eyes widened in horror. 'Me?' he thought, 'God, help me,' he pleaded inwardly. But the God who could help him had long since left this hospital.

Eddie was struggling, four people were trying to hold him still on the bed and they could hardly contain him. “Let me go! You won't get away with this!” but no one paid any attention to him.

On the bed were leather handcuffs used to bind his hands and feet. The nurses tied Eddie's hands and feet and squeezed them tight. He struggled, but he couldn't move. He began to watch the ceiling. The light from the fluorescent lamps blinded him. Dr. Arthur walked slowly to the head of the bed and looked at Eddie. Eddie could see him backwards, he couldn't hold back his tears.

Eddie said desperately, “Please let me go. I won't tell anyone what I saw. I swear I won't tell anyone,” he begged. Dr. Arthur put something gel-like on a wooden stick and began to rub it on Eddie's temples.

“We need to make sure you don't tell anyone, son,” he said, bringing his face closer to Eddie's. Then he gestured to the nurse and told them to hook up what looked like headphones to the machine next to him. But the machine had two iron balls the size of tennis balls where they were supposed to go in the ears. They placed them on Eddie's temples.

“I beg you,” Eddie moaned, ”please don't do this.''

But Dr. Arthur didn't seem to care, he shoved a cloth like a piece of tissue into Eddie's mouth and said, “You'd better bite down on this, Munson.''

Eddie's tears flowed and mingled with his hair. He closed his eyes tightly one last time, the last thing he saw before he closed them was the light from the fluorescent lamp on the ceiling.

“Let's start with 30 volts,” Arthur said, taking a deep breath.

Violet put her coffee mug under the sink and turned on the water, she had a rough night.

Prosecutor Robert Hills was a smarter man than she thought. But he had his weaknesses. He loved winning and couldn't stand losing. He would do anything, even sell his soul, to get the “Eddie is not crazy report” he wanted from Violet. Violet had to have a long talk with him during the night. 

Robert Hills didn't trust her at all, just as Violet didn't trust him. 

Violet had asked him to show her the photos of the victims again. He had laid everything in his big brown bag on the coffee table in the center. All the files from the case were on the coffee table at that moment. Robert had even told her a few statements and details that had not been released to the public. This man really believed that Eddie wasn't crazy and that he was a murderer. 

''First it starts with nightmares. He shows you your greatest fear. You think it's a simple nightmare, so you don't dwell on it. Then you start to see it when you're awake. As your death approaches, Vecna starts to show himself. He wants you to join him. Your soul will give him strength. That's why your greatest traumas feed him.''

That's what Eddie said in his statement. As she read the file in her hand, she couldn't understand how Robert could know all this crap and still insist that Eddie wasn't crazy. According to him, Eddie was a fraud and he was making it all up to avoid the execution. Later that long night she asked him to make her some coffee. 

And while he was doing that, she found out what Eddie had asked her to do. She found out who had reported him . She was so excited she didn't even sleep until the morning. 

As soon as she woke up in the morning, she came to the hospital with great excitement. She wanted to talk to Eddie as soon as possible.

She walked down the grand hallway to the common room, she smiled at Brendon who was coming across. He noticed Brendon's agitated state. He came over and leaned into her ear “Something terrible happened last night, Violet. You must see Eddie.” 

Violet looked fearfully into his eyes. Brendon nodded for her to follow him. They entered a long corridor lined with rows of rooms and came to a room labeled “1208”. Eddie was sitting on his bed. He was staring expressionlessly at the wall in front of him, mumbling something.

She took an uneasy step into the room and looked at Brendon. Brendon nodded, confirming Eddie's state. Violet called out, hiding her fear, “Eddie?’’ She took another step closer to him. Eddie wasn't looking at her, just staring at the blank wall in front of him, mumbling, “Ed?” she called again. She was in front of him now, but Eddie's eyes still hadn't turned to her. She leaned down, put her hands on his cheeks and said, “Can you hear me?’’

Eddie's eyes were still focused on the wall, but when Violet pushed his hair back, she realized that he had red bruises on both sides of his forehead, on his temples. She recoiled in horror, but grabbed his face in her hands again and said quickly, “Eddie, look at me. Look at me.'' This time Eddie's eyes were focused on her, but his gaze was meaningless. “Eddie, do you know who I am? Do you remember me?” Violet said, her voice shaking.

Eddie closed his eyes tightly and swallowed, then paused, “You…’’ There was silence for a moment, then he continued slowly, “You're Violet.’’

She sniffled her runny nose. Her throat was knotted with pain. “Come on, let's get you to bed, sweetheart, come on.’’ She held his head and rested it against the pillow, then she covered him with a blanket.  

Eddie started watching the ceiling. When she turned her back and was about to leave, Eddie took her hand. He was whispering something. She bent her head and brought her ear close to his lips.

He whispered, “I gotta get out of here.''

The heart didn't need to be stabbed to shatter, because those words were enough to tear Violet's heart in two. She walked out the door and saw Brendon leaning against the wall in the hallway, waiting for her. She was panting. She spoke through clenched teeth. Because she knew that if she let it go, she would start crying.

“Who did this?” she asked angrily.

Brendon was as angry as Violet. “Manager Wilson and Dr Arthur,’’  he said. 

Violet asked, confused, “Why?’’

Brendon took a deep breath and said, “Eddie and John took something from his room. I don't know what it was, they found it when they were searching the rooms.''

Violet had terror in her eyes. “John? Where is he? Did they do this barbaric thing to him too? My God!” she said, fear in her voice. 

Brendon shook his head in the negative and said, “They have him in a cell. It's in the basement of the hospital, no light, no windows, a disgusting place used for punishment.’’

Violet took a pen and paper out of her purse and wrote the names of some medicines on them, “Take these and give them to Eddie. I have a little business.’’

Her eyes were burning with anger and she couldn't see anything else. The way Eddie looked at her shattered her heart. He didn't deserve this. No one deserved this. All along she had believed Eddie was innocent, that maybe the people who had committed the murders had framed him because Eddie was mentally unstable. Maybe Eddie was a scapegoat. But Eddie was innocent.

She came to Manager Wilson's office, opened the door hard and walked in. Wilson lowered his glasses in surprise as she slammed the door wide open.

Wilson said, “Mrs. George, you may not know the ethics of where you come from, but here you have to knock before you enter the room.’’

She slammed the bag in her hand hard on the table. “What is electroshock? What century are you living in? Do you realize that what you are doing is against the human rights of the world? I will report you. You are done, Mr. Wilson. You’re so done. Enjoy your last days here,” she roared. 

“Watch your tone, little lady,” Wilson said, pointing a finger menacingly.

Just then the door opened and several guards came in, ready to take her out of the room. Violet was sure her voice could be heard throughout the hospital.

Wilson said, “I told you the day you came here that my hospital and my rules apply, and in some states electroshocking up to a certain volt is still allowed, and it's not against the law. Those little thieves should have paid for what they did. You are in no position to question my techniques.''

Violet was at the point of losing her profession. “If your fucking techniques cause someone to die, are you going to take responsibility because ‘my hospital, my rules’? He could have died! You turned an innocent man’s brain into mashed potatoes, you bastard!” she shouted.

Wilson stood up angrily and slammed his hands on the table. “The man you call innocent is 23 years old and the murderer of four people. His most recent victim was a 15-year-old little girl. He put her in a coma. If by some miracle she wakes up, she will never see again. She'll be blind for the rest of her life! It'll be a miracle if she even wakes up! When they told me they were sending you here, I was happy that a professional doctor was coming. But I see that your interest in your patient has taken precedence over a doctor-patient relationship . Since you're so defensive of a murderer!’’

Violet answered him with a sharp look. “This is not something I'm saying just for Eddie, Wilson. Listen to me carefully. When Eddie recovers, I'm going to take it to court that he's in danger here, that his life is at risk. I'm going to have him transferred to another hospital. And you won't be able to keep torturing any patient the way you tortured Eddie and John.''

Wilson scratched his head with a laugh. “As I remember, John Forest was not your patient. Did you know that he burned down a nursing home and killed 15 people, including babies?”

He turned around and took out a file and threw it across the table in front of her. “John Forest” was written on it. Violet picked up the file and began to shuffle through it quickly. 

Wilson took a deep breath and sighed, “John Forest is a severe manic depressive. He lives with bipolar at its most extreme. He lives with an identity he made up in his own head. He has schizophrenia. He thinks he's a police officer who's trapped here. And he lives in a world where he says we trapped him to keep him here. He was making progress with his treatment, but since Eddie got here, he's relapsed. We expected it to progress once he found someone who believed what he said. They stole this file last night.’’ He walked to the door. ‘’Come with me.’’

Violet grabbed her purse, which she had thrown on the table, started to go after Manager Wilson and followed him. They entered a room that was used as an infirmary. A few patients were lying on stretchers, moaning in pain, others were asleep. A few nurses were giving some of them soup.

As they walked quickly past the beds, Violet saw John. He had an IV in his arm and was asleep. She had never spoken to him before but she knew who he was, he and Eddie spent a lot of time together.

Wilson raised his hands in the air as if in surrender. “As you can see, Mrs. George, we are not monsters. We've sedated him and we've restarted his medication. I'm sorry about what happened to Mr. Munson, but it had to be done. It's the only way we could keep him from getting confused. He will be fine in a day or two. None of his vital functions have been damaged anyway. He can eat, talk and go to the toilet on his own. The memories that are gone will come back in time. He will just remember some things faintly, that's all.’’

And then he walked away. Stupid bastard. Just because John was mentally ill didn't justify all the things they had done to John and Eddie, she thought. She went and sat down next to John. His eyes were closed but obviously he wasn't asleep, he was just pretending to be asleep. He had heard everything.

“What have they done to Eddie?” he asked quietly.

Violet picked up the file on the bedside table next to John's gurney, checked John's medical tests and answered briefly “Electroshock.’’

He opened his eyes, “Assholes. I'll make them pay for all this. They set me up. It's all lies. I was a policeman, Violet, I was trying to save Eddie and myself. You have to believe me, they're holding me captive here.’’

Violet could only nod. “I believe you,” she said, but she wasn't. Everything was written in the file she was holding in her hand. John felt his eyes grow heavy, unable to bear the effects of the drugs any longer. Violet looked at him sadly, poor man, she thought to herself. She put the files back on the table and left.

She didn't have the strength to deal or talk to anyone any more today, and apparently Eddie wasn't in any condition to talk either. So she thought it best to go back to her room. She was trying to digest and understand everything that had happened. When she heard a voice, which disgusted her even to hear it, she reluctantly stopped and turned around.

Dr Arthur was smiling at her with a satisfied look on his face. “Where are you going, Mrs. George? I thought you'd be attending our choir show tonight.’’

Violet looked him up and down with a look of contempt. “I'm not in the mood to listen to children dressed as angels babbling about how everything will be fine, doctor. But you should definitely go. You obviously need it. Maybe your conscience, which has been lost inside of you, will tingle a little and you will remember where your heart is.’’

She left him there and didn't even look back. Something made Violet feel uncomfortable, something about what the manager and John had said didn't make any sense. Separately it made sense, but put together it was a complicated maze. If John was an arsonist who thought he was a policeman and almost got treatment, and if the file he stole was his own patient file, then why did they electroshock Eddie ?

What were they afraid that Eddie would find out?

Violet had spent the day in her room at the guesthouse, going through the files she had received from Robert. It was almost four in the evening. After taking the last sip of her coffee, she got up and looked out the window at Chassell Hospital. Eddie was probably asleep now, probably from the drugs he was taking. She had prescribed him something to help him recover more quickly and take the pain away. Then she went into the room and threw herself on the bed. 

She was dreaming. She knew it was a dream. She was in a beautiful house with a garden. She looked out of the kitchen window into the backyard. Two little children were running around in the grass, laughing. The joy between them was like pure joy piercing the sky. She called out to them as she continued to chop the vegetables in front of her: “Be careful!”

The older one turned to her and smiled. How much he looked like her. She felt a breath behind her. Then arms wrapped around her stomach from behind. She felt a small kiss on the back of her neck. His warm breath tickled her neck. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “What's my darling wife cooking today?'' That was Eddie's voice. 

He hugged her tighter as he smiled, he started kissing her neck. “Eddie, stop. The kids are outside. They'll see.” she said, giggling.

He laughed out loud. Eddie's laughter was full and deep, like a depth that made Violet's insides tremble for a moment. She put down the knife and put it on his hands that were holding her stomach.

She backed away quickly as she felt the wetness on her hand, blood on her hands.

She turned around in horror. 

Eddie was gone. 

She looked out the window. The children were gone. 

She ran out into the yard. “Eddie! Where are you? Eddie!’’ The peaceful moment was suddenly swallowed by a deadly silence.

She was scared. Had she hurt them? She would never do that. She entered the house and ran through the rooms one by one. When she got to the basement, she came out into a hospital corridor.

She followed the blood stains on the walls. Someone who had been injured had left and grabbed onto the walls on the way out. It could be Eddie, she thought. Finally she found a room with a red door when all the other doors were white. 

As Violet stepped through the doorway, the air seemed to shift, thickening around her like an invisible fog. It wasn’t just an ordinary room—it was something alive, something breathing.

The walls were drenched in crimson. Not the dull red of paint, but the slick, glistening red of fresh blood. Thick rivulets oozed down the surfaces, some congealing into dark clots, while others left sticky trails that glistened in the dim light. The metallic tang of iron hung heavy in the air, invading her nostrils, making her stomach turn.

The floor was tacky beneath her feet. Each step produced a faint, sickening squelch as her shoes clung to the viscous surface. It was as if the room itself sought to hold her in place, pulling her deeper into its trap.

The walls seemed to move. Violet blinked, uncertain if her eyes were betraying her. No, she was sure now— they were pulsing. Slow, rhythmic, like the steady breath of some unseen, grotesque creature. The walls expanded and contracted in a hypnotic cadence, as if the room itself were alive, feeding on her presence.

Her gaze lifted to the ceiling, where ancient, unreadable symbols had been etched in dark, drying blood. They formed a language that defied comprehension, twisting her thoughts into knots with every glance. The symbols seemed to shift when she tried to focus on them, as though they were aware of her gaze. The more she stared, the more they burned into her mind like searing hot knives.

A low hum vibrated in the air—a whisper just below the threshold of hearing. Voices, layered and interwoven: men, women, children—all speaking in a language that gnawed at her sanity. She couldn’t understand the words, but she felt them. They crawled inside her head, coiling around her thoughts like serpents.

She turned toward the door, her heart pounding. But the door… was gone. Where it had once stood, there was now only more of that blood-soaked wall. There was no way out.

It was as if someone was talking to her. She couldn't understand where the voice was coming from, but it seemed to be coming from inside her head. “Violet,” said a deep, stern voice.

“You have suffered so much. But it is over now. I'm here to give you the freedom you deserve.’’

She closed her eyes tightly. She thought of Eddie's face. His angelic face. 

When she opened her eyes again, she was between the police cars. And her sister was crying and hugging her, saying, “I can't believe that bastard did this to you. It's over. It's over now.'' For a moment she looked away in surprise, she was remembering this day.

This was the day she feared the most and swore she would always forget. One of her patients had attacked her. He had grabbed her by the throat and choked her until her eyes went dark. She was the one who had gotten him out of the hospital and she was paying for the wrongest decision she had ever made. At the last moment, in a last ditch effort, she hit him on the head with the frame she was holding out her hand and the frame shattered, broke. She had hit him so hard that one of the shards of glass had cut a vein in his forehead. She looked as if she had taken a blood bath from the blood that poured on her. When she came out, the help she had already called for had just arrived. Her sister was getting out of one of the police cars, crying. “I can't believe that jerk did this to you. It's over. It's over now.'' 

She was reliving that damn day in her dream. She was reliving it over and over again. She was forcing herself to wake up, but it was no use. Eventually she was sitting in the back of the ambulance again, she had forgotten how many times this endless cycle had happened. 

Suddenly she felt the crowd slow down. Someone came out of the building where she was staying, it wasn't a person. It was some kind of, something, a thing. His whole body seemed to be on fire, maybe wrapped in ivy. She couldn't understand what it was. It came towards her, slowly but surely. When he looked into her eyes, she felt her soul being pulled.

“Your time is coming, Violet,” the creature said. It was the same voice she heard in her head, “You will join me.''

The moment she opened her eyes, she jumped out of bed in fear. Someone was banging insistently on the door. She poured water from the pitcher on the nightstand into a glass. It could have been the worst and most realistic nightmare she had ever had. She was out of breath, her heart beating like it was going to pierce her chest. She was sweating like she had literally run hundreds of meters.

She took a deep breath, turned on the light and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten o'clock at night. She wondered who had come at this hour. She slowly went and looked through the hole in the door. Someone with long brown hair was waiting in front of the door. It was not someone she recognized. She thought it was one of the nurses or security guards working at the hospital and opened the door.

’’How can I help you?’’

The man looked worried and said, “You are Violet George, aren't you?’’

She nodded her head. She looked at him with curious eyes, waiting for him to explain.

“Hi, I'm Steve Harrington.’’

Violet poured the coffee into the cup and handed it to Steve. Then she walked over to the window and looked outside. Only a few lights were on in the hospital. They would turn them all off soon. The church choir's performance should have been over by now, she thought. After sighing, she pulled the curtain closed and sat on the couch. ’’Did Eddie tell you what he was going to talk about? At least, did he mention what it was about?’’

Steve shook his head. ’’He just told me to come and pick him up from the back door of the hospital. He sounded really scared, like his life depended on it. He said he’d explain everything after I got him. I’ve been waiting for him for a few hours, but no one came. I thought he might be in trouble.’’

She rubbed her forehead with her hand. So Eddie somehow knew what was going to happen to him, and that’s why he wanted to escape , she thought. But now she was even more curious—what did he learn that made him want to run away so urgently?

She sighed, ’’Actually, Eddie got into a bit of trouble because he trusted a friend. One of the other patients, his name is John. He's been receiving treatment at this hospital for some time—I just found out today. He told Eddie that he was a police officer who was lured into a trap and brought here. But in reality, he's an arsonist, though he doesn’t realize it. He tricked Eddie into trying to escape with him.’’

Steve gave a bitter smile. ’’Don't take this the wrong way, Doctor, but from your tone, it doesn't sound like you really believe that.’’

Violet nodded. ’’There's something that’s been bothering me. On my first day here, I met a patient at the door named Mitsy. It was obvious she had a mental illness, but physically, she looked healthy. Later that same day, I learned that another patient named Mitsy had died of severe pneumonia.’’

Steve was staring at her with curiosity.

Violet continued, ’’The patient who died had been bedridden for a long time, unable to walk. They told me it was just a coincidence of names.’’

’’But you didn’t believe them,’’ Steve said, narrowing his eyes as if waiting for her next sentence.

Violet nodded again. ’’I searched the records room where they keep files on all the patients, looking for someone named Mitsy. And what do you think I found? Nothing. There was no other patient named Mitsy. The woman I saw that day and the corpse were the same person. But that brings up another question. How did that woman end up in that condition within just a few hours?’’

Steve was nervously biting his lip. ’’Do you think Eddie wanted to escape because he figured out the reason behind all of this?’’

’’Most likely, yes. He was going to tell me everything anyway. He just made a deal with me—if I found out who reported him, he would explain everything. Now, I’m not even sure if he’ll remember everything clearly…’’ Violet sighed. ’’Right now, there's only one person who knows what really happened. And I’m not sure if I can trust him—John Forest.’’

Steve stared at her, his eyes wide with urgency. ’’Wait a minute. Did you find out? Did you tell Eddie?’’

She looked at him, confused. ’’Tell him what?’’

Steve leaned forward, his voice more intense now. ’’Who reported him to the police! Did you tell Eddie?’’

She shook her head. ’’No.’’ She didn’t understand why Steve was suddenly so nervous. Clearly, he knew the answer to that question too. But deep down, something told her that Steve didn’t want Eddie to find out.

Steve stood up anxiously and began pacing around the room. "Violet, listen to me… we need to get Eddie out of there. Because…" He trailed off, struggling to find the right words, running his fingers through his brown hair, scratching his head as if it would help.

"Steve, he's my responsibility. If you know something about him, you need to tell me. I wouldn’t do anything to put his life in danger." Violet’s voice was calm but firm, urging him to continue.

Steve took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "If I tell you… you won’t believe me." He hesitated for a moment, then a smile flickered across his face, as if an idea had just struck him.

"But I can show you."

They started walking deeper into the forest. About seven minutes had passed since Violet first thought this was a bad idea, but it was already too late to turn back. She had known Steve for less than an hour, and yet here she was, following a stranger into the woods.

"There it is!" Steve said, pointing ahead.

Violet squinted through the trees and saw a narrow path. At the end of it, a yellow car was parked. "I didn’t know there was a road here," she murmured.

Steve smiled and ran toward the car. He knocked on the back window, and after a moment, the door opened. A few young people climbed out, all looking around 18 or 19 years old.

Steve introduced them briefly. "These are Dustin, Will, and Jane."

Violet smiled and greeted them, and they nodded in return. Then they all got into the car. The drive was quiet for the most part. Violet only asked how they had found her, and unsurprisingly, the answer was the newspapers. Ever since Eddie Munson had been caught and sent to the hospital, it had been the only topic in every news outlet and newspaper.

As the minutes passed, Violet's curiosity grew.

They eventually pulled up in front of the city’s 24-hour library. It was past midnight, so the place looked deserted, except for a lone clerk dozing at the front desk.

They made their way to one of the computers. Steve showed her some old newspaper clippings. A series of strange events that had happened in Hawkins.

"So, Eddie Munson isn’t the strangest thing to happen in this town," Violet thought.

Experiments on children, a closed-down factory, townspeople claiming to have seen a creature resembling a dog, people disappearing without a trace… One article even mentioned a girl rumored to have extraordinary powers.

Violet’s questioning gaze locked onto Dustin and asked.

“Alright, I’ve read all this, but do you have any actual proof that any of it is real?”

Dustin, calm and confident, smiled again as he repeated his words.

“The proof is sitting right in front of you.”

As the sentence echoed in her mind, Violet looked at him with a puzzled expression. What did he mean by that? Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to piece it together.

And then it happened. The chair... it started to move.

At first, she felt a faint tremor, then slowly, it began to rise off the ground. Her hands instinctively gripped the sides of the chair, as if clinging to the last remnants of stability. Fear climbed up her spine like a cold wave. Her mind split into two conflicting thoughts: This can’t be real. You’re imagining things. Stay rational, Violet!

But another voice challenged her logic: Are you stupid? You’re flying!

Her eyes darted to Jane. The young girl had her hand raised, fingers extended as if she were pulling invisible strings. Wherever her hand moved, the chair followed. Jane’s face was calm, devoid of any hesitation. It was as if she did this every day, as casually as breathing.

Violet’s heart pounded in her chest, each beat reverberating through her ribcage. Her breaths quickened, short and shallow, barely filling her lungs before rushing back out. Breathing wasn’t enough. The world around her seemed to defy gravity, the laws of reality bending before her eyes.

When the chair finally descended and her feet touched solid ground again, the trembling in her body didn’t stop. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers feeling like they no longer belonged to her. Her knees felt weak, as if they might give out at any moment.

Fear wrapped around her mind like a suffocating fog. This wasn’t a simple fear. This was the sensation of reality itself cracking. She was witnessing the unraveling of the universe’s rules.

Will, moved quickly. He rushed to her side and offered a glass of water. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Violet reached out to take the glass, but her fingers trembled so badly she feared she might drop it. She managed a small sip, the cold water sliding down her throat, but her breathing remained erratic.

As she tried to steady herself, Will’s file slipped from under his arm, scattering a few newspaper clippings and sheets of paper across the floor. But Violet’s eyes were still fixed on the empty space in front of her, on Jane, and on what had just happened.

Her mind raced toward an undeniable truth.

Eddie wasn’t crazy.

The stories he told, the ones everyone dismissed as paranoia, as nonsense… They were true. All of them were true .

The realization turned Violet’s thoughts upside down. A deep sense of helplessness echoed within her, like falling into a bottomless pit. Knowing that Eddie wasn’t insane was comforting in one sense, but that comfort was short-lived. Because it meant something far worse.

Eddie was trapped in a truth too big to explain.

And no one would believe him.

No one in court would listen to these stories. No one would believe in his innocence. The entire world would see him as guilty, and that would be Eddie’s death sentence.

Will and Dustin hurriedly gathered the scattered drawings and newspaper clippings from the floor.

"Stop!" Violet’s voice cracked, still trembling with fear. "Can you hand me that?"

Dustin grabbed the drawing she was pointing at and passed it to her. Steve was saying something about how Will had drawn all of them, but Violet's focus was locked on the creature staring back at her from the paper. The same creature that haunted her dreams.

When she had seen this monster in her nightmare, she had assumed it was just a figment of her imagination, influenced by the files she had read. Like how after watching a horror movie, you dream about being hunted by the killer. But she had never told anyone about that dream. And now, here it was—the creature, identical in every detail.

Jane noticed Violet studying the drawing intently. "Why are you looking at it like that? Did you see it?"

Violet nodded slowly. "Is this... Vecna?"

"Yes." Steve, leaning against one of the bookshelves, crossed his arms over his chest.

"But that's not even our biggest problem right now," Dustin added.

Violet’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about? What could be worse than this ?"

Will, with that familiar expression of delivering bad news, spoke quietly. "Max woke up."

Violet looked at them, uncomprehending.

"Maxine Mayfield," Steve clarified.

Her blood ran cold. Was this some kind of contest to deliver the worst possible news one after the other?

"Max Mayfield?" Violet repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... she’s the one who reported Eddie."

Steve stepped closer, kneeling in front of her, and took her trembling hands on his own, as if trying to steady them.

"Yes," he said softly. "Because that’s not Max. Vecna is using her as a host. We don’t know if he knows that we’re aware of it. That’s why we have to be extremely careful. Max is still in there somewhere, just like Will was years ago. Vecna was controlling him like a puppet, using him as a spy. Vecna lived in the mind of someone connected to this world, gathering strength. It was his mother and brother who pulled him out of Will. And now, Vecna is doing the same to Max. We’re waiting for the moment when she’s at her weakest."

Violet sighed in disappointment. "If Vecna inside Max is Vecna, that means... Vecna who reported him is Vecna. And that means... when the court asks Max who did this to her, Max will say Eddie ."

Dustin shook his head. "They'll execute him. That's why you need to get Eddie out of there."

Violet pointed to herself, stunned. "Do I need to get him out of there?"

Steve said, "We need to go back. We have to protect the town. Listen to me, Violet. Vecna is already after you. He'll eliminate anyone protecting Eddie. Take a walkman with you and put your favorite music in it. Never let it out of your sight. No matter the cost."

Violet now understood why Eddie had asked her for her favorite music. She had to pull herself together and accept what was happening as quickly as possible. There wasn’t even time to sit down and cry. Her and Eddie's lives were in danger.

Just as she was about to stand up, she turned back and sat at the computer. Everyone in the room was watching her with curious eyes. "I need to learn one more thing," she said. She typed "Fire at Sidney Nursing Home" into the search bar. 

News about the fire popped up in front of her. She saw a photo taken by a journalist. Firefighters were trying to extinguish the flames. Police had put up yellow tape all around the Nursing Home. The public, waiting in fear for the fire to be put out, were watching the firefighters. And there he was . He was in the back, but she knew it was him. John Forest. He was wearing a police uniform. He was talking to the man next to him. She knew it. John was telling the truth. John was not lying, he was indeed working as a police officer at the time of the fire at the nursing home. But wait... Violet recognized the person he was talking to as well. He was also wearing a police uniform. It was none other than Brendon , the nurse from the hospital.

She printed out the article and stood up. "We can go now."

Steve pulled the car into the entrance of the hospital. As Violet got out of the car with a heavy motion, Steve handed her the phone numbers, saying, “If anything goes wrong, you can reach these numbers.” Slowly, as he closed the car door, he looked at her one last time and continued, “Be careful.” For a few seconds, the sound of Steve’s car engine blended with the silence of the hospital, and then he quickly drove away.

Violet took a deep breath and entered the hospital. There was a faint chill in the air, as if the walls of this place always emitted a shiver. It was very quiet inside, as if everything had remained still on this night. She only occasionally heard the painful moans of patients coming from the corridors.

Every now and then, guards, nuns, and nurses appeared in the corridor, passing by quickly. But none of them seemed to notice Violet, or perhaps they preferred not to. After all, she was a doctor in this hospital.

As Violet walked toward Eddie's room, her heart beat a little faster with each step. At that moment, suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, and the fingers swiftly and strongly covered her mouth. Violet was paralyzed with fear. She wanted to scream, but her voice only came out as a muffled gasp. Her hands were trembling as she tried to pull herself back, but the man's strength made every movement feel like a greater threat.

As he continued to pull her backward, Violet was being dragged quickly through a dark passage. The spaces between the rooms seemed to deepen her fear, as if each one was a hidden witness to her terror. At that moment, she felt the traces of the hospital’s cold, slick air on her hands, arms, and fingers.

As she was being dragged toward the janitor’s room, the person holding her turned her toward him. It was Brendon . He made a quiet "shh" gesture with his other hand. When she nodded in fear, he finally removed his hand from her mouth.

Violet yelled angrily, "What do you think you’re doing!?"

Brendon pulled a card from his pocket and then retrieved a file he had hidden on the side of his jacket and handed it to her.

He whispered, “This is my nurse card. It opens all the patient rooms except for the manager’s offices and the cells in the C block. With this, you can take Eddie out of his cell.’’ Then he handed her the file. ’’And you’ll protect this file like it’s everything. It contains all the filthy things Dr. Arthur has done. John and I were after this man. I was about to lose my job to get this file, so make sure it gets to its destination, Violet.”

Violet, filled with fear and adrenaline, listened intently to every word coming from his mouth, nodding her head to show she understood.

“How will I get Eddie out of here?” she asked.

Brendon gave her directions to a secret way leading from the C WARD . Violet didn’t want to go through the C WARD.

There were animal-like things there that had lost any trace of their humanity. She had been terrified the first time she saw it, and that was during the day. Now, it was well past midnight, and she was certain that Dr. Arthur kept his undead experiments locked up there. But there was no other way, she had to get Eddie out of here.

She ran to Eddie’s room. She showed Brendon’s card to the ID scanner next to the cell door and stormed inside. Eddie seemed surprised. He stood up. "Violet?" he murmured.

It was clear he couldn’t immediately tell who was coming through the darkness. His speech had improved, but his hands were still shaking from the effects of the electroshock. Violet ran to him and hugged him. She was there. In his arms.

Eddie stood still for a few seconds, still in shock. Then she felt Eddie’s arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her toward him. He smelled her hair. Then he pulled back and held her face in his hands.

Eddie whispered, “What are you doing here? Someone will see you.”

Violet whispered back, “I know you’re innocent, Eddie. I’m getting you out of this hell.”

Eddie smiled and tightly squeezed Violet’s hand. Before they left the cell, Violet checked around to make sure no one was around. Once she was certain, they left together. They weren’t running, but they were walking quickly. Eddie held her hand and pulled her. “Wait!”

Violet turned to him, as if asking what was going on.

“We need to take John too. We can’t leave without him,” he said.

For a moment, she hesitated, feeling uneasy. Violet was already getting herself into enough trouble; she couldn’t take any more risks. “I’ll come back for him later. I promise. We have to go right now, ” she said.

But Eddie shook his head in disapproval. “He got you into trouble for me. When the files came out of my room, he took the blame. He could have said nothing, but he protected me. I owe him this.”

Violet reluctantly accepted it. It seemed Eddie wasn’t going to leave without John. She gripped Eddie’s hand tightly again, and they started running. Fortunately, the infirmary was on the ground floor. When they rushed inside, several patients started screaming. She was relieved that this was a mental hospital, because patients always screamed here, but they were rarely taken seriously.

They headed for the bed where John was. He was awake, sitting up, seemingly lost in thought. He was surprised when he saw them. “What are you doing here?”

“There’s no time for questions. We need to leave. Now!” Violet yelled.

They ran together and finally entered the corridor where the C WARD was. It literally smelled of death. They were running for their lives.

Violet only turned around for a second. Eddie and John were no longer there. The corridor seemed longer than it actually was.

She saw the creature - Vecna - coming toward her slowly from a distance.

Vecna's presence was emerging from the darkness like a shadow, and it was appearing at the end of the corridor. The sound of its footsteps was turning into a metallic, echoing growl. "Eddie?" she murmured in fear, unsure if Eddie and John could see her or Vecna anymore.

They were so close to the exit door. Eddie’s heart was about to jump out of his mouth from fear and running; his eyes were going dark as he ran. Sometimes, flashbacks of memories came and went in front of his eyes; the electroshock felt like it had reset his entire body. He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling, and there was an incredible pain in his head.

But the nightmare was now over. The only thing they needed to do to get out of this cursed asylum was take a few more steps, then they would be free. Eddie noticed for a moment that Violet had stopped. He called out to John, who was running ahead. "Wait!"

Eddie hurried toward Violet."Violet, come on. Why did you stop? We need to go. What are you waiting for?!"

She didn’t respond. She just kept staring down the corridor. Eddie waved his hand in front of Violet’s eyes.

"Can you hear me?! Violet, can you hear me?! Shit.. shit, I don’t like this. "

John came to them in a panic. "What’s wrong with her like this?!" he was saying.

Eddie didn’t know. No , it couldn’t be. He knew. This was exactly the same as what happened to Chrissy. Was Vecna taking her?

God, no. No.

Eddie quickly grabbed Violet by the shoulders and began shaking her violently. Then he cupped her face in his hands. "Violet! Can you hear me? Violet! Listen to me! You have to run from him! For God’s sake, you have to run from him!" Eddie was shouting in fear.

John timidly nudged Eddie; Eddie didn’t have a second to spare for him. "Wait, John!" he yelled, his tears fogging his eyes.

John was pointing down the corridor. The patients in the C ward were waking up, and there were sounds of banging on the doors of the cells. The patients in these cells were humanoid creatures who had survived Doctor Arthur’s experiments. Eddie thought, this can’t be happening now. Please, not now.

He turned back to Violet. He slapped his forehead a few times. "What was her favorite song? What was it?!" He couldn’t remember. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think, but it hurt so much. The places where they had electroshocked him were still aching.

"Dream on!" he said suddenly, with a brief expression of relief as he remembered the song, but… what were the lyrics? He squeezed his eyes shut again. He had to remember. He slapped his forehead a few more times.

He was shouting at himself, ’’Remember the lyrics, come on Eddie!’’

Then Violet suddenly began to rise slowly into the air. Eddie's eyes were focused on Violet's slowly levitating body and his pulse was getting faster and more erratic with each beat of his heart.

John was so terrified by the sight that he collapsed to the ground. He was screaming. ’’What the fuck is happening?!’’

Eddie swallowed hard, ’’No, no. Please don’t take her. I can’t lose her too.’’

taglist: @arabellagreenleaf @25bohemianmoons

[yourfriendlyfanperson]

A Chemical Reaction Called Love

Chapter 2: More than a Coincidence

~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader

~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...

~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.

~Word Count: 2.8k

~Authors Note: Hey everyone! Here's chapter two! Thank you so much for the love on the first chapter, I'm still getting used to how posting fanfics on tumblr works so I appreciate all the likes and reposts! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Once again you can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!

If anyone could tell me how to do the number link thing where I can link the second chapter to add to chapter one I would be so so thankful I have no idea how to do it

~Narrator's POV~

"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n!"

She stops walking, turning around to look at who was calling her name in the corridor, and she sees Robin rushing towards her, almost falling back but she catches her balance before she falls and continues running towards her.

"You won't believe what I just saw," She says stopping in front of her.

"What?! What happened?" She asked, wondering what exciting information she found out now.

"Steve Harrington is going out with Nancy Wheeler," She told her, eyes wide open, "Can you believe it? I thought he only dated the pretty easy-to hook up with girls"

"I thought that too, but I also guessed something might be going on between them since I saw them hanging out yesterday" She shares with Robin, "I never would've guessed that Nancy would be the type of girl to go out with someone like Steve"

"Right! I mean she's so smart and pretty! She could get any guy in Hawkins and she went for the dumb popular guy of all" Robin said, she had never been able to understand what people saw in Steve, she saw him as a grade A asshole.

Y/n thought Steve was okay, she didn't want to have much of an opinion on him since she didn't talk to him outside of the classroom so technically didn't know the 'real' him, but she didn't hate him or anything like that.

"Maybe there's something about him that they see" She points out.

"Or maybe they just have such a low-self esteem they will settle for someone like him"

"You really don't like him do you?" She asks her, knowing very well her answer.

"I have a right to dislike him alright, he's an asshole to some people, is rich and he gets the chance to date most if not all of my crushes" Robin explains annoyed.

"How is he being rich something that adds to him being an asshole?" Y/n asks confused as to how that comment is relevant to the conversation.

"Because, meanwhile we're both here poor with our part-time jobs" She complains opening her locker as she takes out her books.

"I'm pretty sure he can't help the fact he's rich, and I'm not really poor, so technically you should hate me too," She tells her, partially joking.

"I could never hate you though, and you're economically okay"

"Wow, so you're saying I'm almost poor?" Y/n asks her walking to her next classroom.

"I mean...no, but also yes" Robin explains to her.

"Rude" Y/n adds as she pushes Robin away from her.

They both laugh at each other as they continue walking down the corridor, knowing that this is just one of their usual banters. Yet Steve stayed at the back of Y/n's mind after the conversation ended and she wondered what type of person he really is, whether he's an asshole like many think, or whether there's more to him than meets the eyes.

She had most lessons with Steve actually, but they never really talked outside of science, she guessed it was due to the fact in his other classes he sat next to Tommy or some of his popular friends, so it would be weird for him to speak to Y/n as if they were close friends since they weren't, she wasn't even sure if they were friends, she supposed they were simply acquaintances, or just classmates, anything along those lines.

Sometimes she would catch him staring at her, which she found a bit strange but she guessed he just spaced out those times, it happened to her sometimes as well so she knew not to overthink about it. And there wasn't really a reason for her to overthink about it anyway, she didn't find Steve interesting in that way, sure she thought he was probably hiding more than what he led on, and that his only mystery was more than just him trying to act cool.

Other times he surprised her as well, those times tend to be whenever he asked her about the lesson and if she could help him understand what was actually taught, and today just happened to be one of those days.

"Hey, Einstein," Steve says walking over to Y/n's desk.

She looked back at him surprised by the sudden start of a conversation as she packed her books.

"Yeah?"

"Did you-umm, understand anything that Mr. Drew explained?" He asks, knowing full well that he spent half of the class talking with his friends and the other half trying to comprehend what was coming out of Mr. Drew's mouth.

"You're asking me if I understood the crash of Wall Street in 1929?" She responds, slightly confused on how someone couldn't understand at least the basics about it.

"Yes" Was all Steve was able to say, realising how stupid he must seem now.

"Yes I understood it, did you?" She asks, and he could tell she didn't seem to have any intention to judge him.

"I mean, honestly, no, but I wasn't paying much attention to be fair," He says, feeling okay with the fact he might be a bit of an idiot.

"You gotta start paying more attention in class Steve, we graduate next year," Y/n tells him as she takes one of the books in her bag out again.

"I know, I know, and I will, I swear"

"You better, because I can help you study but I can't get you the grades at the end of the day. Now, here are the notes I took of today's class, they're pretty self-explanatory but if you need help with them just let me know and I'll go over the topic" She explained handing him her notebook.

"I own you big time" He smiles at her taking the notebook and putting it in his bag

"This is like the thirtieth time you've said that, you own me a lot," She tells him, mostly just joking, but also keeping it in mind.

"I know, but I'll pay you back one day," He tells her, actually being serious and wanting to eventually thank her for all her help.

"You don't actually have to, you know? I help you because I want to, not to get something in return" She points out as both of them start walking out of the room.

"I know, but I still need to thank you, you've helped me more than anyone else, even though it must get annoying"

"And there you're very right, it can be annoying at times but it's not so bad" He looks at her confused, unsure whether he should take it as a compliment or be offended.

"Is that supposed to be a good comment?" He asks.

"Well-"

"Hey, Y/n have you seen Barb around? Or do you know anyone that has seen her today?" Nancy asks her clearly worried.

"No sorry, I haven't seen her, I don't think anyone I know has any lessons with her so I doubt they'd know," Y/n tells her, a bit surprised by the question given the fact she never talked to Barb and was a year older than both of them so there was no way she would have any of her classes with her, "Maybe she's off sick"

"Yeah don't worry about it too much Nance I'm sure she's fine," Steve tells her, taking her hand and moving closer to her. Y/n knew it was time for her to go.

"I'll let you know if I hear of her though, I'll see you guys around," She said waving goodbye at them and walking off to her next lesson.

The rest of the day was pretty normal, nothing exciting ever really happened in Hawkins anyway, so aside from school and work there was nothing Y/n had to worry about, except, of course, the fact that Will was still missing and was yet to be found.

She hoped that what they had found last night would at least be a start, but she also knew that maybe what they found meant nothing to the investigation. All she wanted though was for Will to be found and returned safely home.

"Do you have work today?" Robin asks her as they walk down the corridor, the school day finally over.

"Yeah, I'm taking the bus there since my dad has to stay late finishing some things, do you?"

"No, I worked yesterday so I'm free today, but I have to help out my mom with some things" Robin explained to her as she opened the door and they both walked out of the school.

"Sounds fun," Y/n said sarcastically.

"I mean it shouldn't be too bad, but when it comes to my mom there are times when I don't even know what will happen"

~~~~~~

"Do or die, what's done is done" Y/n sings as she skates down the night streets to her house. She had finished her shift for the day and was finally heading home after a long day of serving customers at the cafe, but she got some pretty good tips so she didn't have much to complain about.

Due to the fact she didn't own a car or a bike, she always skated from the cafe to her house, it wasn't too far away and she actually liked skating, it was her way of exercising (since she wasn't in any of the school's teams) and it was fun since she could listen to music while getting home.

Robin had told her that she should just save up for a bike since it was quicker but Y/n would rather save her money on something else that she either needed more or wanted more. 'You'll break your arm or leg one of these days' was what Robin always told her, but in her 7 years of having skates she had only scrapped her legs or arms, she also doubts the fact that tripping on something will make her end with a broken bone, so, for now, it seems she'll just stick to skating.

"Hey dad, I'm home," She says, unlocking the door and taking off her skates, "What's for dinner?"

She closed the door and left her bag next to his, taking off her coat and placing it on top of a chair.

"They gave me some mac and cheese that wasn't sold today so we could eat that if you haven't cooked anything," She told him walking to the living room where he was sitting watching the tv as she waited for his response, but there was none, "Dad? What do you-"

"On today's breaking news the body of Will Byers, who was announced missing just yesterday was found by the police minutes ago in the quarry"

Y/n's face drops as she hears the news, she takes a seat next to her dad as she keeps listening to the news trying to process what's going on, trying to process the fact that Will is dead.

"Chief Hopper believes he got lost after crashing his bike and accidentally fell, resulting in a tragic but hopefully painless death, but as of now it is just a theory, and we don't actually know if it was an accident, or perhaps something more. We give our condolences to the Byers family and we hope that they'll be able to get through these tough times "

Scott stands up and turns off the tv right after, not wanting to listen to any more details about the tragic death of his student and his daughter's friend.

Meanwhile, Y/n is still staring at the screen shocked, frozen in place, trying to understand the news she was just given, Will Byers, the little twelve-year-old boy which she babysat for years now has just been announced dead. She can't understand how such a thing can be possible, how a boy who had his whole life ahead, who was just beginning to live, who was the kindest person she had ever met, was dead just like that.

"Honey, are you okay?" Her dad asks her sitting back down.

"I-no, no I'm not," Y/n says as she starts crying.

Scott immediately pulls Y/n into a hug, her head hiding on his chest as she hugs him back, he patted her back gently moving his head on top of hers as he closed his eyes. He hoped that Will's death had indeed just been an accident, he had to make himself believe it was, because otherwise he might not be able to sleep for a while knowing that there could be someone out there who wants to hurt kids, and that could possibly hurt his daughter, he also couldn't believe that Will was dead, a boy he had been teaching for years and saw almost as his son, to end up with a fate late that. Y/n on the other hand just kept thinking about Will, what his final moments were like, whether he suffered or not, she couldn't even imagine how Joyce or Jonathan must be feeling getting the news that he is dead.

"I can't believe he's really dead" Y/n whispered as she stopped crying.

"I know honey, it'll be okay, how about I heat up the mac and cheese," He says, trying to help things calm down for just a second.

"It wouldn't be right if I tried to talk to them tomorrow would it?" She asks him.

"Talk to who?" Scott asks confused.

"Joyce and Jonathan, they probably need some space and time, so I should wait a bit before talking to them, right?"

"Yeah it would be better for them, they need to process everything first, let's wait a couple of days,"

Y/n nodded at her dad as she moved away from the hug, standing up and grabbing her bag, "So, mac and cheese?"

~~~~~~~~

The next day was exhausting, everyone around the corridors kept talking about Will and what had happened, Y/n was glad Jonathan wasn't in school because it would've made things impossible for him, she hoped he and Joyce were okay. She also kept thinking about Barb, Nancy had told her in the morning that she was missing and no one had seen her since Tuesday night. Two people now had gone missing, one of which had been found dead, and Y/n had a terrible feeling that maybe everything that was happening was more than just an accident.

"Just, don't mention the beers, it's just gonna get us both in trouble, and Barbara's got nothing to do with it, okay?" Y/n faintly heard someone say as she walked out of the school.

"I can't believe you right now... I can't believe you"

"Nancy!" She heard someone shout as she walked towards the middle school, she saw Nancy walking out of the spot between the school and gym, angry, like really angry, she didn't even look up when she passed by Y/n, she just kept walking straight to the school.

"Nancy come on!" She turned around and saw Steve coming out of the same spot, he wasn't trying to catch up to her, he knew she would ignore him anyway, "Einstein, hey" He says, his tone softer now as he turned to look at Y/n.

"Hey, everything okay?" She asks him, partially because it was the normal thing to do and also because she wanted to know what had happened, as nosy as it sounds.

"Yeah, everything's okay," He told her; Y/n knew he was lying, Steve knew she knew he was lying, but in a way, they both knew it would be better to leave it like that, "What about you?"

"Oh I'm fine, just walking to the middle school to help out with the assembly" She explained and he nodded at her.

"Cool"

"Yeah, well, I'll see you later," She said unsure of what to keep talking about, as she started walking away.

"Wait," He said walking closer to her, "How much did you hear?" He asked her.

"Honestly, not that much, only the end of it"

"Did it sound bad?" She looked at him confused.

"The argument?" She asked.

"Yes, the argument, did I sound like an asshole?" Y/n didn't think she could really make much out of what she heard, but it didn't sound great either.

"I mean- I barely heard anything, I don't even know the context of the conversation so I don't think it's right for me to say" She explained to him.

"That was a stupid question," Steve said shaking his head.

"If you think you were an asshole then you should apologise to Nancy, she's already having a rough time given the fact Barb is missing, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want to deal with an argument at a time like this," She told him, trying to help, in some way at least, she wasn't sure what to say, but this was the best she could think of.

"You're right, I was an asshole. You know you give great advice"

"Thanks, well I'll get going now, I'll see you later Steve," She says waving goodbye at him as she starts to walk away.

"Yeah, I'll see you later Einstein" He adds softly smiling at her as he walks back into the school.

Thank you for reading! Any likes and reposts are appreciated!

[yallthemwitches]

A Tiny Spell

“Yeah well—I’ve planned to marry her the day I met her. I haven’t asked yet, but it's only a matter of time really.” He leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, letting his lips linger there in a way that says I’m saying it to make them fuck off but I do mean it. Petunia’s eyes hop between keeping eye-contact with her sister and the place where James’ lips connected with her skin, fury mounting. “Lily, can I have a word?”

Written for @jilytoberfest Day 21, prompt: "How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

AO3 Link

The surrounding sound of clinking glasses and jovial conversation serve as a reminder that shared meals aren’t normally supposed to be this hostile. Lily hadn’t even wanted to come tonight besides to appease her father, and she didn’t need confirmation to know that Petunia didn’t want her there either—the one sentence note stating that she wouldn’t be in the bridal party made that very clear already. The only thing tethering her to the table was the access to free wine and a very warm, reassuring hand caressing her thigh under the table. 

“James–please tell us. How did you get to be so athletic?”

Vernon’s step-mum cranes herself over the twinkling electric candle, staring at James with eyes that would make even Mrs. Robinson blush. Ever since the second bottle of red, she has interrogated him like he’s a contestant in a speed dating show.

“I play sports actually,” James starts in, treating every question like a riddle to be solved, “I’m the captain of the, uh—”  He clears his throat, fingers giving a warning squeeze on her thigh below the table. 

“A cricket team.” Lily finishes for him, casting a wary glance. She knew that some of Vernon’s family would be at the dinner, but she hadn’t had time to give him a full run down of who knew about their “condition” (as Petunia and Vernon called it) and who didn’t. Unfortunately, that meant James had to fend for himself, fielding questions in an awkward stunted way that made him seem either high or thick or both. 

‘Yeah, that,” James says a bit too cheerful, giving her a lingering kiss on the temple (“Cricket? Like the bug?” She feels him mouth against her skin). Across the table Petunia scoffs, cutting into her steak like she wants to make sure it’s properly dead. 

“And what do you plan to do for work? The step-mum continues to interrogate, not bashful in the slightest that she hasn’t directed a question or comment at the engaged couple for the better half of an hour. “Petunia told me you both are graduating soon. An able-bodied lad like yourself must have something lined up.”

It’s another question that would be best avoided. To be fair, even the truth is a little outrageous. “Oh you know, since there’s a raving lunatic starting a blood war, we figure we will just bop around and fight against that for a bit–then maybe start a family? 

“James' parents are very elderly and getting along—we figure we will take some time off to care for them.”

Vernon makes a snorting noise that resembles a cough. “And you have funds to live that sort of lifestyle?”

She knows he is making a jab. Vernon would know better than anyone that the Evans’ family is not exactly well off. Her Dad struggled with odd jobs all their life and mum didn’t have a cent to her name when she passed. Vernon even took it as a point of pride to bring Petunia into a respectable, well paid household once they married. 

“Oh yeah,” James perks up, finally happy to have something he can boast about, “Got loads of gold in the bank. Tried to convince mum and dad to spend it on a trip to Transylvania while they still had the spirit to travel, but they insist that Lils and I take it while we–er handle things.”

“Wow veeery generous your parents—and to support Lily too,” Vernon’s step-mum slurs out. 

“Yes,” Petunia chimes in, face hard set, “Very generous that it almost sounds like you two are also engaged.”

Lily returns her sister’s stare, seeing the smoldering anger rising up in her eyes. It goes unnoticed by James who swings an arm over her shoulder with a grin. 

“Yeah well—I’ve planned to marry her the day I met her. I haven’t asked yet, but it's only a matter of time really.” He leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, letting his lips linger there in a way that says I’m saying it to make them fuck off but I do mean it.

Petunia’s eyes hop between keeping eye-contact with her sister and the place where James’ lips connected with her skin, fury mounting.

“Lily, can I have a word?” Petunia stands up, not waiting to hear if Lily accepts or declines. James gives her a reassuring squeeze to her thigh and lets his fingertips slide down her leg as she stands. As Lily follows her sister, she can hear Vernon’s step-mum’s voice waft into the background, “You must know that you are very attractive, James–”

She follows her sister as they weave through a dining room full of boisterous guests until they reach the dimly lit hallway that leads to the powder room. Reaching a relatively secluded spot, Petunia turns on her heel, almost making Lily bump face first into her. 

“How dare you.” She hisses out.. “First you come to my engagement dinner touting some weirdo who doesn’t know how to use a comb, then you somehow find a way to make it all about yourself, tossing around all this bosh about family gold and getting engaged and-”

“Tuney, you brought it up!” Lily tries to get control of her voice, lowering it down to a whisper. “If I had it my way, James and I would have sat and drank our wine in silence—or better, not even come.”

Petunia scoffs, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“Oh course Lily. Always the martyr, always being perfect and doing the right thing, always getting the fit freak boys with tons of gold so you don’t have to feel pain like the rest of us.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Lily’s voice raises again but this time she doesn’t stop it, “Look I’ve tried to play nice sister—for seven years I have—but I can’t keep doing this. You’ve made me into a monster by your own design and I’m just trying to be supportive.”

Petunia clutches her fists, face becoming hard-lined in the shadows of the hallway.

“He’ll leave you–when he realizes how much of a freak you really are.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the damage is deafening. Sometimes Lily thought her sister really was magical–she always had a knack for cutting someone to the raw depths of their subconscious.

“That’s what happened with that Snape boy too–don’t deny it. He finally saw what you were—a freak even in your own little ridiculous world.”

Lily feels the tears before she even registers her sadness. Petunia just watches, eyes cold, pressing her fingers into the wound and twisting for good measure. 

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is weak, unconvincing. “I know James loves me—he tells me everyday. You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Well people lie.” Petunia’s voice quivers on the last word. “And I don’t want anything to do with your disgusting life.” Not waiting for a response, she pushes past her sister, disappearing back into the dining room. 

Lily leans against the wall for a moment, holding onto a coat rack for support. She wipes at her face, frantic to push past the horrible words that are reopening the wound that has managed to be pulled apart more and more as the years pass and war arrives on her doorstep: even her world is no longer hers. She is just a target amongst her own people; a freak among freaks. 

“Alright Evans?” James' voice rings out from the end of the hall and a leg appears in the foreground before the rest of his body comes into view. Shucking off the invisibility cloak, he stuffs it into his pocket before turning on her, eyes full of remorse. 

“How long have you been there?” She tries to sound stern, but a quavering squeak comes out instead.

“Probably longer than you like—oh Lils…”

His arms curl around her, face now pressing into the shirt which he borrowed from Remus just for the occasion. His smell has already pervaded the fabric, the scent of spice and autumn wood grounding her back from her anxieties. 

“Tell me you know your sister is mental right?” He breaths it into her hair, starting to press kisses from the forehead down. “I know you hate it when I say it, but I think I get a free pass on calling her a bitch this time.”

He says it to try to make her laugh, but instead she just burrows her face deeper into his chest. He presses a hand into the small of her back, cradling her against him. 

“You know I’m not going anywhere right? I love you—absolutely nutter about you. Merlin, I’d be a lost shell of myself if you left.”

“But she’s not wrong. I’m still a freak. If I’m not a freak here as a witch, I’m a freak as a muggleborn.”

James takes her shoulders and rips her away just enough to stare hard into her eyes. 

“Evans, are you telling me you are more of a freak than Vernon Dursley? Then Bellatrix Lestrange? Honestly, I’m not a betting man but if we did a poll I think you’d come out the most normal of the lot.”

That finally gets her to laugh, imagining Vernon Dursley and any of the Lestrange family rubbing shoulders. 

“There she is.” James pulls her back, cradling her face softly to press tiny kisses onto her nose and cheek bones. 

“Do we need to look at the note for good measure? Reckon we do…” He pulls away and reaches for her hand bag and she knows what he is fishing for right away. He finds a small zipper wallet that holds a mixture of muggle and wizard money and prods his finger inside until a tiny scrap of parchment appears.

Turning her so her back is flush against his chest, his arms wrap around her as he unfurls the tiny paper. Written in his angular script, the note reads:

I love you and things are okay. 

It’s something he wrote one full moon when she was feeling particularly anxious, but since the impending war it has taken on a more multi-purpose use. It is their personal tiny spell to keep the fears and sadness at bay.

“See? The paper never lies.” He moves in to kiss her temple but she turns her head, catching his lips with his. They stay like that for a while, feeling whole again.

“Do we have to go back in there?” She groans when they part. The idea of reopening the wound she just closed feeling too unbearable to manage. 

He gives her a squeeze and a kiss to her pressure point. “Nah, I already made up some lie about us needing to get back to my parents—that’s why I came to get you in the first place.”

They walk towards the door hand in hand. He feels sturdy under her, like a buoy in a never ending storm. As they step out into the night air, James halts. 

“Oh, there is one thing.” He sounds sheepish, guilt plastered on his face. “You know how I was wearing the cloak? Well—I might have gone and pulled the tablecloth out from under everyone’s meal. It was a huge mess—absolutely brilliant. Vernon got gravy all down his trousers…” his words teeter off like a child admitting to a mistake. “Please don’t be cross with me.”

She looks at him. His bashful act is betrayed by a twitch of amusement at the corners of his lips and it hits her that if he proposed that second, she would say yes. 

“Cross with you– James Potter? Never would dream of it.”

AU: I try not to be too personal on here but I'll allow myself to dedicate this one to my partner who gave me a note just like this at the beginning of our relationship five years ago. Nowadays it's crumpled and water stained but we look at as often as we need it.

[badkitty3000]

The Download:

Five Hargreeves x Female Reader

It's the end of the world and everyone you know is gone. After you find yourself at the Hotel Obsidian, you realize you have something in common with the rest of the remaining population. When Number Five takes a particular interest in you, and your special ability, the evening turns into much more than you expected.

The universe may be hours away from imploding, but you and Five are going out with a bang.

Chapters 3, 4, 5 (complete)

WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL DEPICTIONS AHEAD!

Link to Chapters 1 and 2

Link to my AO3 Works

Chapter Three: Inside You

This artwork is also posted with KayBreezy's Bad Things. It's so good it works for both stories!

On that note, you pushed Five back so that he landed on the bed, sprawled out and staring up at you with anticipation as you leaned down, hovering over him so that your breasts were tantalizingly close to his face. As he ran his hands up your sides and back down again, you gave him one long, hard kiss before pulling away again.

“Are you going to keep teasing me all night or are we going to do this?” he asked. You could tell he was trying to be snarky but with his harsh breathing, it came off more desperate. Which you loved.

Nodding and giving him a sly smile, you stood up and closed your eyes. “Be forewarned. It’s about to get a little kinky up in your brain.”

You didn’t open your eyes, but you heard Five breathe out a quiet laugh. You concentrated, going inside your brain and gathering up all the files you wanted him to have. And there were quite a lot. Things that you had experienced with others that you liked and things that you were curious about trying. You thought quickly about the basics of sex and made a little tutorial that he could use, as well.

But the biggest file was filled with all of the things you were dying to have Five do to you. You wanted him to know exactly where to touch you, and how you liked it; how you wanted to be taken. But only by him. Because for some reason, you were dying to have him unleash himself on you. And you wanted him to be the last man you fucked before the world ended.

The golden orb floated in the air between you, growing bigger as your thoughts collected inside. Only a few seconds had passed and it was filled with everything you wanted him to know. With another push from your mind, the orb was absorbed into Five and his eyes briefly glowed with a golden light.

It took just a moment of him taking in everything before he sat up on the bed, feet still on the floor. A lustful smile slowly crossed his face and his eyes darkened. The sudden change had you on edge, like a rabbit cornered by a wolf and you watched anxiously as he stripped off his jacket, vest, and tie. But when he reached up, softly kissing your lips as he guided you back onto the bed, your body immediately relented to his touch; the sense of danger replaced by want.

And fuck, did you want him. You’d never wanted anything or anyone this badly in your life. How had this happened? How had this snarky, arrogant, man-child taken you apart so easily?  Maybe it was his eyes, or just the way he looked at you with all that intensity. Maybe it was the pent-up rage inside of him that you could feel dying to get out. Or maybe it was the pure fucking audacity he had to assume you’d just fall into bed with him. Which he was right about, but still.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your mouth.

His gratitude was oddly sincere and you kissed him in return, looping your arms around his shoulders and running your nails lightly down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath his shirt.

“You gave me a lot to work with here, but I think I’m up for the challenge.”

Five had pulled away, a sly smile creeping across his face when he looked your body up and down as you laid underneath him. You matched his smile with your own.

“Then you better get to work. Because last I checked, the world was still ending and I’d liked to be fucked at least one more time before it does.”

He grabbed your ass, hard with one hand, while the other held his body over yours. He ground his hips into you and you could feel his obvious erection rubbing against your leg.

“Sweetheart, when the world finally ends, you’re going to be so fucked out, you won’t even notice.”

Your opportunity to respond with another witty comeback was cut short when you felt Five’s hand in your hair, gently tugging your head back, and his mouth on your neck. After a few soft kisses, you felt his teeth dig into your skin as he bit down. It wasn’t a hard bite, more like he was experimenting with you. But it was enough to send a quick flash of electricity down your spine and you arched your neck back, letting out a small whine.

It was playing right into his arrogance, letting him get the best of you like that, but you didn’t really care. Every touch of his hand or mouth on your body felt so fucking good, and if inflating his ego a little bit meant you could get more, then you sure as hell weren’t going to do anything to stop it. You could feel how he broke into a self-satisfied smile as he continued to tease you with small nips to your neck, your fingers digging a little harder into his shoulders.

“Since I suddenly seem to know that you want me to mark you all over, I assume you gave me that little insight?” he asked, his teeth and tongue tracing a line under your jaw.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“And can I also assume that request was meant only for me?”

You sucked in a sharp breath as he moved to your collarbone with a sucking kiss. “Yes,” you answered again. You had a feeling that was going to be your answer for most of his questions going forward. There wasn’t much you were willing to deny him.

Five stopped suddenly, changing his position so he was straddling your thighs and he grabbed your wrists in each of his hands, pulling your arms over your head and pinning them to the bed, just like he had downstairs. His eyes were dark and full of lust as he leaned over you.

“I’m going to give you everything you want, and I’m going to give it to you rough, and hard, and loud; just how I know you like it. And I’m going to mark this beautiful body as my own so everyone will know who it belongs to.”

He gripped your wrists tighter and you swallowed nervously, even though every nerve ending in your body was on fire.

“But first, I want to hear you say it. Not just in my head. Out loud.” He smirked evilly. “Who does this body belong to?”

There was a sharp edge to his voice that was both threatening and pleading at the same time. You had never given up so much of your inner thoughts to anyone before, and having him present them back to you like that was intimidating. But, fuck, it was definitely working. You were going to do whatever he wanted from you; you already knew it.

“It belongs to you,” you managed to get out; sounding much more pathetic than you had intended. Your voice was strained and you pulled against his hands on your wrists, but he held fast.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered into your mouth as he kissed you.

Had you been able to step outside your body and look down at yourself, you would have laughed. This young kid that was holding you down, somehow overpowering you, and calling you his good girl was way too bizarre to comprehend. But you were too busy letting out a long, desperate moan and pushing your hips up to pay much attention to the ridiculousness of it all.

You had downloaded what you wanted him to know into his mind, but he still had the free will to use it or not. So, there was still an element of suspense as you waited; wondering what he was going to do next. Would he use everything you gave him? Or completely take you by surprise?

Letting go of your wrists, Five ran his hands over and down your bare thighs, his fingers lightly brushing beneath the hem of your dress. Assuming he was going to take his time, he caught you off guard when he found the seam on the side of the skirt and ripped it open in one strong pull. The dress was split open on one side, all the way to your waist. You gasped, breathing heavily, even as you complained.

“Hey, I like this dress.”

“I’ll get you another one,” he responded wryly, even though the tiniest smirk was showing through on his face. “Right now, I want this one off.”

With another hard pull, the other side of the skirt was ripped open. Then, before you even knew what was happening, Five had pulled you up, and reached his arms around to your back. One forceful tug with both hands had the rest of the dress tearing down the back, the zipper pulling away from its stitching and leaving your entire back exposed. The cute, velvet dress that you had admired earlier when you put it on was now essentially a pile of rags.

“Jesus…”

You didn’t have time to say anything more as Five pushed you back against the mattress and pulled the remains of the dress away from your body and all of the way off. Left in your bra and panties, lying beneath him as he continued to straddle your legs, reminded you of your vulnerability. Five may be in a teenage body, but he was clearly stronger than you. Maybe it wasn’t that good of an idea to just trust him with your thoughts. He knew you wanted to be dominated, but what if he took it too far? The fact that he was still fully dressed further tipped the scales to his advantage.

His eyes traveled hungrily over your body, not touching you at first, just taking you all in.

“God damn it, you’re stunning” he growled, his fists clenching briefly like he was trying to control himself.

He moved so that he was kneeling between your legs, and you instinctively bent them at the knees as he leaned over you to kiss you roughly on the mouth. You moaned into him as he pushed his tongue inside and bit at your lips. His hands were on either side of your head, but he started gradually moving south. Your back arched as more bite marks and bruises were branded onto your skin; all down your neck and over your chest. There was no way you’d be able to hide them or cover them up. Which is exactly what he wanted.

Your moans were deep, followed by sharp hisses between clenched teeth after every sensual bite he gave you. The skin under each mark stung even after he had moved on to another, but the hurt was delicious. You wanted more. And your body writhed under him as he took his time. When finally, he was satisfied with his work, Five pulled back to admire the damage he had inflicted. A slow, one-sided smile spread across his face.

“Fuck, I didn’t think you could get any hotter, but I think I like you even better this way.” He ran a finger over one of the bruises on your collarbone. “There’s no doubt this is mine now.”

When he removed your bra, he let out a shaky groan before pushing your tits together, and running his thumbs over each erect nipple, followed by his tongue. It was embarrassing how much you could barely stand any more teasing from him. Your hips were pressing upwards, trying to get any contact you could as your clit throbbed from lack of attention and your panties were soaked through.

“Ah…please,” you whined, not even intending to say it out loud. It was as if your body had taken over your brain and it only wanted one thing.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Am I taking too long?” Five teased.

There was no warning, no hint of what he was thinking, when he reached down between your legs, shoving his hand into your underwear. The sudden sensation of his fingers on you, when you had been starving for his touch, sent your hips thrashing wildly into him, your head thrown back and a long, loud whine escaping from your lips.

His fingers leisurely stroked through your folds and over your clit. This was almost a worse torture than no touch at all, and you wanted so much more. The fact that you were completely coming apart for him was fueling Five’s confidence and he kept up the languid pace.

“I love how wet you are for me,’ he said quietly before kissing your mouth, and cutting off another moan. “Are you dying for me to fuck you right now?”

You didn’t care about the preservation of your dignity anymore, and you whimpered sad and pleading, clutching at his shoulders.

“Yes, god, please…”

With another irritating smirk, Five placed a kiss at the corner of your mouth. You were fighting the urge to push his hand harder into yourself, when he removed his fingers all together. With a wicked grin, he brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean, all while looking you in the eye. You didn’t think such a dirty act could be so hot, but there was the fucking proof as another rush of wetness formed between your legs.

“Sorry, darling. You’re going to have to wait a little longer for a good fucking. Right now, I want a better taste.”

You held your breath as he pushed your soaking wet panties off and moved his body down for better access. The minute you felt his tongue on you, your whole body arched and you grabbed the bedcovers beneath you in your fists.

“Fuuuck…Five!” you yelled, your voice strained and high-pitched in its neediness.

It wasn’t going to take long; that much was clear. Even though you had given him some basic instructions on what you liked in your mind transfer, you were pretty sure what he was doing went way beyond the basics. Maybe he didn’t have experience, but he sure as hell had good instincts, and apparently that translated to eating pussy, as well.

He didn’t let up, no matter how hard you bucked against him; his tongue swirling and licking through your most sensitive areas. When he started flicking his tongue over your clit, you were just about at your limit; but when he pushed two fingers inside of you while his mouth was still on you, you completely tipped over the edge.

“Oh god…don’t stop…please…yes…right there…OH FUCK!”

The spasms ripping through your body were hard and intense and you could feel each and every muscle contracting while you pushed yourself harder against him. Your cries were loud and could probably be heard by anyone that happened to be on the same floor. But, luckily or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it, there weren’t any other people around.

Five waited until your body had relaxed again and your whimpers had died down before fully pulling away and removing his fingers from you. He sat back, breathing hard, but smiling as he saw what a complete mess he had just made of you.

“Jesus…Christ,” you panted up at him. “I thought you’d never done that before.”

Five shrugged, the arrogance never leaving his face. “I told you. I’m the best at everything.”

It was such an outlandish, egotistical claim, and yet you had every reason to believe him now. You let out a breathy laugh and sat up, trying to compose yourself again. Even though your body needed time to recover post-orgasm, Five was still full of pent-up horniness and you could practically see it radiating off of him. You could also see it in his pants.

Climbing off the bed, you grabbed the collar of his dress shirt with one hand and pulled him up for a kiss, your other hand palming over his erection, rubbing it firmly over the outside of his pants.

He gave a loud groan as you kissed him, pushing into your hand at the same time. When you pulled away from his mouth, you grinned.

“If that dick gets any harder, you’re going to be ripping right through those lovely tailored pants of yours.”

Five pulled you roughly against his body with a grunt. “Then let me fuck you.”

You eyed him up for a second. You were absolutely going to let him fuck you; but with your own needs met for the time being, you were more than willing to wait a while and have some fun with him in the meantime. With a slow shake of your head, you closed further in on him, forcing him to back up until there was nowhere else to go and he was pinned against the wall. You pressed your naked body against him, kissing him hard.

His chest was heaving with loud breaths and he dug his fingers into your bare skin as he held tightly to your hips. As you reached up to start unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes met his and your mouth turned up at one corner.

After you pulled his shirt out of his pants, you spread it open and ran your hands down his firm chest. His eyes had closed again from your touch and his head tipped back against the wall as you sucked a red bruise on his neck, right under his jaw line. His pulse was racing beneath your lips. When you pulled away, you smiled with satisfaction.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Five. But I’m going to ruin this beautiful new body of yours. Because you belong to me now.”

You could feel the vibration of a shaky exhale as you marked another bruise on his neck and he wound his fingers tightly into your hair.

“Just let me fuck you…please,” he begged desperately.

You shook your head no, even as his fist tightened in your hair and he let out a low groan of frustration.

“You’re wound so tight right now, you’re going to explode the second your dick is inside of me.” Five moaned quietly with just the thought. “And no one wants that. So, let me take care of that problem first.”

You got to work unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, all while leaving a trail of marks over his supple, fair skin. Working with touch alone, you found the waistband of his underwear and slowly ran your fingers inside, listening to his strained breathing as he reflexively jerked his hips toward you. The poor man had waited long enough, so you pushed the waistband over his nicely-sized erection, grasping the solid shaft in your hand.

Five let out a loud, drawn-out groan as you slid your hand up and down slowly, savoring the silky-smooth feeling of his skin. But you didn’t tease him very long and soon you were stroking him faster and firmly, lightly twisting your hand as you spread the leaked pre-cum over his length. Marking his collarbone with your teeth as you rapidly jerked him off, you couldn’t help but notice how it was turning you on, as well.

From the gasping, guttural sounds that Five was making, to his tightening fist in your hair, it was making you wet and you had to concentrate on what you were doing. You didn’t want to lose the momentum; he was already teetering close to the edge. You were surprised when you suddenly felt his hand on your wrist, stopping your movements. When you looked up at him, his face was filled with a mixture of desperation, lust, and worry.

“Stop…I can’t…I’m…” He was panting hard, his words catching in his throat as he tried to speak.

Taking your other hand and pushing him off of your wrist, you gave a tiny shake of your head. “Come in my hand. It’s ok.”

With just a few more strokes, Five was arching his back, his palms flat against the wall as he thrust his hips towards you, his cock throbbing as he came hard with your hand around him. Ropes of cum painted your hand and forearm, his strangled cry mixing with the shuddering of his body as you worked him through it. When he was finally spent and drained, you released your grip and he collapsed limply into the wall.

“Fucking Christ,” he breathed out, finally able to open his eyes and look at you again.

“Christ had nothing to do with that. That was all me,” you joked as you tucked him back into his underwear again.

It was the first time you had heard him genuinely laugh; it was short and breathy, but it was sincere and made you laugh, too. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the intimacy, which was weird considering everything you’d just experienced together, you excused yourself so you could clean up in the bathroom. As luck would have it, Five had found a room with an attached bathroom, rather than the community baths on some other floors. It was old and run-down, as most things in the hotel were, with a sad looking pedestal sink and separate faucets for hot and cold water. Still, there was clean, running water; which all things considered was kind of a miracle. Once you were washed off, you joined Five back in the room.

He was sitting on the bed, his pants zipped back up, but with his shirt fully off and lying next to him. As he saw you come out, he held the shirt out to you.

“I realized I destroyed your only piece of clothing, so you can wear this in the meantime if you’d like.”

The shy smile on his face, combined with his dark, tousled hair had him looking every bit of seventeen and you wondered briefly if you had actually done the right thing. But then he watched you as you tugged your underwear back on and pulled your arms through his white dress shirt, his eyes roaming over your body like he didn’t just have his face between your legs and his dick in your hand. You were filled again with that feeling, like electricity coursing through your veins from just one lustful stare.

Five stood up and closed the gap between you. The shirt he gave you was still unbuttoned but it loosely covered your breasts and hung down past your hips, with the black lace of your panties over your ass peeking out the bottom. He placed his hand lightly on your neck, rubbing his thumb over one of the bruises he had left.

“I like this. You, wearing my shirt and my bite marks. Makes me want to give you more.”

Your panties hadn’t even had a chance to dry out before they were saturated again. But you looked up at him, tracing your index finger over a red, mouth-shaped mark on his chest.

“I wouldn’t mind some more.”

Grinning in that arrogant way that you were inexplicably starting to crave, he gave you a quick but gentle kiss on the lips.

“Oh, we’re going to get to that. You’ve filled my brain with far too many things to be calling it a night already. And besides, one of the perks of being young again is the very short recovery period.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” you smiled.

Five started buckling his belt back up and your eyebrows creased together in confusion.

“Usually, you don’t get more dressed before banging.”

He gave a short chuckle. “I figured maybe I could go find you some actual clothes to wear since you may want them eventually. And maybe some drinks to bring back.”

You nodded and looked around the hotel room. There wasn’t much in the way of amenities and the orange glow coming from behind the curtain over the one window in the room made you feel uneasy. Five didn’t seem to notice your anxiety, though, and he pushed his hand through his hair to comb it back off his face.

“I’ll be back soon,” he stated before heading for the door.

“Wait!”

He turned back to you and you suddenly felt foolish for not wanting to be left alone. “You’re not even wearing a shirt or socks and shoes,” you offered up as an excuse.

Five shrugged and looked down at himself. “I don’t care. The odds of running into anyone are pretty low, and even if I do, I don’t really give a shit.”

You nodded, your mouth drawn to the side in contemplation, and you twisted your hands together in front of your body. Five finally noticed your hesitation, and he walked back over to you.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” you looked back over towards the window and then back to Five. Your voice cracked a little when you spoke. “I guess I’d rather not be completely obliterated while I’m all by myself. As dumb as that sounds.” You attempted a half-smile.

Five studied your face for a second and you weren’t sure how to read his expression. Was he going to make fun of you? Scoff and say it hardly mattered if you were alone or not, you were all going to die? You held your breath as you waited for him to speak.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said, with no trace of cynicism.

You swallowed. “Can I go with you? It’s probably easier if I find my own clothes, anyway. I do have what I was wearing before; I used the bathroom on the first floor to change.”

The corner of Five’s mouth turned up and he looked down at your current clothing situation.

“As much as I would love to watch you walk around in this outfit, do you really want to go out like that?”

You let out a soft laugh and looked down at yourself. Then you started buttoning up the shirt to cover as much of your body as possible. “Like you said, we probably won’t see anyone. And if we do, I don’t give a shit either.”

He nodded with a smile. “Ok, then. Let’s go.”

Five opened the door for you to walk out first, but not before he gave you one good smack on the ass as you passed by him, making you jump and cry out. But the look you shot him over your shoulder as you kept walking let him know you definitely hadn’t minded.

You and Five took the elevator down to the first floor, stepping out cautiously and looking both ways out of the doors to make sure there wasn’t anyone coming. With the coast clear, you set off in search of your clothes while Five took off in the direction of the bar.

After successfully locating your clothes and shoes that you had originally been wearing, you didn’t bother putting them back on. The plan was to meet Five back at the elevator and go back to the room. So, there was really no point in putting more clothes on.

On your way back, you heard raised voices coming from the lobby area. Concerned, you made your way over; close enough to see and hear what was going on, but far enough back that you hadn’t been noticed yet.

“…none of your god damned business, that’s why! And since when do you care what I do, anyway?”

“Since you just randomly left the wedding, then suddenly showed up down here, half-dressed and covered in an astounding number of hickeys! I think that might warrant an explanation.”

Five laughed in a way that even you recognized as dangerous, and you barely knew him. “You’re unbelievable, you know that, Allison? I don’t have to explain anything to you. If you want to blame me for everything that’s happened, fine, go ahead. But I am done apologizing. So, why don’t you go glare angrily at someone else? I’m done with your bullshit.”

Their loud voices must have alerted the others from inside the ballroom, and soon everyone was gathered around while Five angrily ran his hands through his hair. You still hadn’t said anything or moved any closer, but Diego spotted you across the room and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Oh, shit,” he said with a half-smile.

Following his eyes, the rest of the crowd turned to look at you. Your first instinct was to shrink back into the shadows, or turn and run back to the room. But you saw Five’s rage-filled face and felt bad he was being ganged up on. Plus, you had told him you didn’t give a shit if anyone saw you. So, in answer to all of the wide eyes and shocked expressions, you squared your shoulders back and walked closer; your bare feet padding across the threadbare carpet and Five’s dress shirt barely covering your crotch.

“Seriously?” you heard Ben complain from the back of the group.

Allison crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her hip out. “Well, if it isn’t the Whore of the Apocalypse,” she sneered.

“Fuck you!” you shot back, walking up beside Five.

“Excuse me?” she asked, taking a menacing step towards you.

You stood your ground and Diego shot an arm out to the side to stop Allison from coming any closer to you. Your stare down with her was interrupted by a sudden outburst from Klaus.

“Aw, you guys…look! They have matching tattoos!” he joked, referring to the marks on both of your bodies.

Lila laughed loudly and Ben huffed, but everyone else just stood staring back and forth between you and Five, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Uh, Five? Isn’t she a little old for you?” Luther piped up.

“Well, technically he’s older than her. But I see your point. It’s a little weird,” Diego added.

“Yeah, and have you ever even, you know…” Klaus made a hole with his hand and poked his index finger in and out of it, whistling, “aside from your mannequin wifey?”

Five gave him a death glare.

“ …who was lovely by the way,” Klaus added brightly.

“What if she’s controlling your mind right now? Would you even know it?” Viktor asked with a dismissive glance in your direction.

Five opened his mouth to say something but you jumped in first. “That’s not how my powers work and you know it! It’s the end of the world and you people can’t just stay out of our business? Jesus, you really are a bunch of assholes.”

Viktor looked toward you with narrowed eyes. “My brother’s business is our business. You, however; I don’t give a shit about you.” Then he turned to Five. “Why is she even here? She’s not a part of this family.”

Five was the one that cut you off from speaking this time. He shook his head slowly, his entire body tensed like a coiled snake ready to strike. You could see the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he clenched and unclenched his fists at his side, his abdomen even more defined as his core tightened. His eyes were dark and dangerous, despite the tight-lipped smile on his face.

“You’re right, Viktor, she’s not. Which is just one of many reasons I would prefer her company right now than any of yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Diego demanded.

“Shit, we’re all going to be incinerated in a few hours anyway, so I might as well say it,” Five muttered to himself. Then he looked Diego in the eyes. “I am done.”

“Done with what?” Luther asked.

Five gestured to all of them standing there. “You. Us. This whole fucked up family. I’m done apologizing, I’m done trying to fix things for you, and I’m done listening to your constant whining. Because here’s the truth; we may be about to die from an imploding universe right now, but the only reason you’re still standing here at all is because of me.”

When they started to protest, Five held his hand up. You could see his body soften slightly, but he remained poised and ready to fight.

“The fact is, I am exhausted. All I have heard for the past few weeks is What’s the plan, Five ?, What do we do now, Five ?. I gave you the warnings and I told you my time jumps weren’t exact. You knew of the risks before you agreed to any of it. And then what do I get after I save all of your sorry asses? This is all your fault, Five, We never should have listened to you, Five, You’re the reason I lost everything, Five.”

His words hung heavy over the room. No one said a thing, although they all exchanged silent glances with one another.

Five’s voice quieted and his shoulders slumped a little. “You can count me out of your little voting ceremony with Dad tomorrow. I don’t really care if you go along with him or not. But I’m staying here. Because no matter what horrible thing he’s going to lure you into, somehow you’re going to make it my fault. So, like I said; I am done.”

He shouldered past Klaus to get to the bar and leaned over to grab two full bottles of what you assumed to be whiskey. Then he walked over to you, shoved one of the bottles in your hand and looked you in the eyes.

“Do you still want to come back with me?”

You just nodded your head; still trying to take in all that he had told his family. Without another word, he grabbed your free hand and pulled you along with him as he stormed out of the lobby and towards the elevator. You couldn’t help but notice that no one called after him or asked him to come back. No one yelled out a half-hearted apology or even cursed him angrily. They just let him go.

Once inside the elevator, he wordlessly yanked the stopper out of the bottle in his hand and tipped it to his mouth, swallowing down an impressive amount in one gulp. When he lowered the bottle again, he was breathing fast and hard from adrenaline and his chest was heaving.

“Are…you ok?” you ventured.

He turned to you with surprise, almost as if he had forgotten you were there, so lost in his own thoughts.

He nodded. “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It sounds like it needed to be said.”

Five shrugged and the elevator doors opened to your floor. He took another sip of the whiskey as he walked out. “Fuck them, anyway.”

You weren’t quite sure if he was talking to you, or to himself, but you chose not to comment. Instead, you followed him to the room and let him blink you inside since you never did get the key to the door. Once you were inside, you set down your clothes and the bottle you had been carrying. Then you took the one Five had out of his hand without asking. He watched as you took your own long swig and set it down next to the other one.

“That’s enough for now. I’m counting on you to be able to perform certain duties,” you said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood and break Five out of his angry brooding.

It worked, because you saw that flicker of lust cross his eyes again. “Come here.” His voice was soft but forceful.

He pulled you to him with a hand on the small of your back and the other on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek gently. When he kissed you, he tasted like whiskey and sex and desire, and you threaded your fingers into his hair as he held you tighter. Without any more hesitation, you began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, at the same time that he moved to hastily unbutton your shirt.

“You’re not going to rip this one off of me, too?” you teased.

“Fuck no. This is an exquisitely tailored shirt. I’m not going to just ruin it.”

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed his pants and underwear down his legs and he kicked them off, at the same time pushing the dress shirt off your shoulders and onto the floor. He lifted you up with his hands on your bottom and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your kisses were intense again as you pressed your naked chest onto his.

When he laid you down on the bed, ripping your underwear off and climbing over you, he stroked your bare thigh and the curve of your ass. You could feel how hard he was as he pressed himself against you.

“God, this fucking body of yours…” he moaned.

“It’s your body, now,” you answered breathlessly and you pushed into him, letting him know you didn’t want to wait any longer.

As an answer, he didn’t take it slow or gently, thrusting his cock all of the way into you in one aggressive push. When you cried out and dug your nails into his shoulder, he let out a long and throaty groan.

“Oh fuuuck, you’re tight.”

With a slow pull back, Five pushed back into you again, the amazing feeling making you gasp and moan. Holding himself over you with one arm, he raised one of your legs up and positioned it so you were resting it on his shoulder. He grinned down at you as you tipped your head back.

“You like this, huh?”

“You know I do.”

You grabbed his ass with both of your hands and pushed him into you, making him suck in a loud breath.

“I also know that you like it rough,” he growled as he suddenly started thrusting into you hard and fast.

He was right, you did like it, and your answer came in the form of a loud and long cry, throwing your head back again and shutting your eyes. He continued to ram into you, snapping his hips forcefully so that your body jerked violently in time with his movements. Your nails clawed at his back and you could feel the tightness of his muscles as he put all of his energy into fucking you as hard you wanted.

It was amazing, this feeling of finally having him inside of you. Maybe it had only been a few hours since you had met, but it felt like a lifetime of wanting and waiting. He was putting his new-found knowledge to work, hitting just the right spot every time, so that you never wanted it to stop. As Five’s thrusts became faster and more intense, he grabbed onto the headboard for leverage, driving himself even deeper inside of you. His skin became slick with a thin layer of sweat as he worked to give you everything you craved, and his hair flopped down and stuck to his forehead. With each animalistic grunt and growl he let out, he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes.

“Five…” you gasped as you clutched harder at his body. “Keep going. I’m going to come. Just don’t stop.”

He gave another low groan and he slammed into you as hard as he could, his cock sliding in and out like it was made just for you. It was all you could take before the room was filled with your shrieks and moans, your fingers digging into his back and your eyes shut tight. You could hear and feel Five come inside you, pulsing into you as his body stilled and he pressed his face into the crook of your neck to muffle the noises that erupted out of him.

You and he must have had the same thought as you moved your leg to a more comfortable position, his body still on top of yours. When he pulled out, a mixture of his cum and your juices running out of you, he leaned down and kissed you and you ran your fingers softly over the red lines you had made down his back.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have pulled out.”

That had been your concern as well, but as the reality of the situation sunk in, you realized it hardly mattered. “It’s ok. I don’t think there’s enough time for us to have to live with any consequences of our actions.”

Five gave you a lop-sided smile and moved next to you, draping an arm over your waist and kissing your shoulder. “Just one of the many upsides of an impending apocalypse.”

With a laugh, you turned on your side so you were face to face. You gently brushed his hair out of his eye and traced his lips with your fingers. It should have been uncomfortable. You hardly knew him, after all. But now that the sexual tension was gone, you felt good lying there with him. You were relaxed and you felt safe. But that didn’t necessarily mean he felt the same and you quickly moved your hand away from his face and backed away a couple inches, just in case he didn’t want that kind of intimacy. This was supposed to be just sex; there had been no talk of what was going to happen afterward. It was quite possible he wanted to be left alone now.

So, you were taken by surprise when he pulled your body back closer and kissed you tenderly while brushing away your own hair off your face. You sighed and snuggled in closer. He turned on his back so that you could rest your head on his chest and he put his arm around your shoulder. You felt him rub his cheek against your hair.

“What else did you put in my brain?”

“Nothing, I swear. Why?”

“Because there is no logical explanation for why you have this hold on me. I don’t even know you.”

You traced the outline of a faded scar on his abdomen, wishing you knew more about his past and that there was more time to learn about it.

“First of all, that’s not how that works. I can’t make you do something you don’t want to do, or make you feel a certain way.”

“I bet you can. You just don’t know you can.”

You frowned and looked up at him. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“No. I’m just saying what I said before. That you most likely have untapped potential in there. And it’s possible that you could unintentionally use those hidden abilities without you even realizing it.”

You sat up and faced him, shrugging his arm off. “So, you are accusing me. You’re saying I somehow tapped into your brain and made you what? Feel actual feelings for me?”

When he didn’t deny it, you climbed off the bed, standing over him as he propped himself up on one elbow. You gave a sarcastic laugh and shook your head in disbelief.

“God, I’m a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I just helped some kid get his dick wet for the first time, only to have it thrown back in my face. What makes you think I want anything to do with you, anyway? I didn’t realize you were that arrogant that you thought everyone is just dying to have you fall in love with them.”

Your voice was shaking and you balled your fists at your side. You wanted to put your clothes back on, because fighting with someone while naked didn’t have quite the same impact. But you didn’t want to break eye contact, staring Five down and waiting to see what pathetic excuse he was going to come up with. You braced yourself for the inevitable anger from him that you had seen towards his family. But that’s not what happened. Instead, he had the nerve to look sorry; watching you intently with those stupid green eyes of his.

“Can you sit down please?”

“Fuck you!”

Five sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. For everything I said. But can you please come here?”

“Why should I?”

“Because I didn’t mean to make you upset. And I don’t want you to go.”

He sounded sincere and it’s possible you had overreacted in the first place. Just one of your lovely personality traits was flying off the handle with little instigation. After some hesitation and a dramatic exhale, you sat back down on the bed next to him. He was still lying on his side and he placed his hand on top of yours.

“Look, I’m not very good at expressing my feelings. A lifetime of isolation will do that to you, so I’m told. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have them. And I’m sorry I accused you of anything. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Your body had relaxed again and you no longer felt as defensive. “Surprised by what?”

Five looked away for a second and then back to you. “Like I said; you’ve got this weird hold on me.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked, wishing you knew how to read him better.

“Take a look.”

“What?”

“Do whatever you do that reads people’s feelings. That way you’ll know what I can’t say in words.”

Your eyebrows creased together and you cocked your head to one side as you studied him. “Are you sure about that? Most people don’t like it. It disarms them. Makes them feel exposed.”

Five nodded. “I’m sure. I trust you.”

After thinking it over, you agreed and you laid down next to Five, facing him. “Ok, here it goes.”

With your eyes closed, you focused on penetrating Five’s consciousness. As you dialed in on his emotions, a golden, sparkling tendril of light started to form in front of you. The more you concentrated, the more it grew, until there was a shimmering strand of gold connecting your mind to Five’s. As soon as the other end of the tendril made contact with his mind, everything came flooding towards you at once. There was a flash of light behind your eyes and then your head was filled with rapidly changing emotions, flipping through your brain at warp speed. You gasped loudly and then you opened your eyes, breaking the golden tendril, watching it disappear into the air. Five had felt nothing and he looked expectedly back at you, waiting for your reaction.

All of his feelings were whirling around inside of you, and they were strong and deep. And very real. Shame, self-blame, regret; those rose to the top. There was anger and fear there, too. But underneath that was love for his family and love for life. And something else that was just for you. A combination of appreciation, hope, and contentment. He felt comfortable with you. He felt a kind of happiness.

“Five,” you whispered as you placed a hand on the side of his face.

“Do you believe me?”

You nodded. “I can’t make you read my emotions, but I can tell you that I feel the same. I feel safe with you. And maybe that’s stupid, but it’s the truth. I like being with you.”

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. You already knew everything. Instead, he rolled you onto your back and kissed you. It wasn’t like before, when you were trying to devour each other. This was soft and passionate, and you ran your fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck. You sighed happily when he nuzzled into your neck and whispered your name. You weren’t sure what was happening between the two of you, but it didn’t really matter. There wasn’t much time left anyway, and all you knew was that whatever it was, it felt right.

Chapter Four: Accepting Your Fate

“I swear, if you pour that vodka on that cereal, I am out of here.”

Five looked up at you, holding the bottle of vodka over a giant bowl of cereal, and wearing an irritated expression.

“Oh yeah, and where are you going to go?” he asked with one raised eyebrow and a small smile.

You shrugged and leaned against the counter. “I’m sure Ben would be willing to take me in.”

“Is that what you want to do? Spend the last moments on the planet listening to Ben?”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not really, no. But maybe there won’t be much talking.”

“You’re a bad liar,” Five said pointedly. But he set the bottle down on the counter, looking at you and waiting.

You had gotten your way and you beamed happily in his direction. Then you looked around the large, commercial kitchen of the hotel. “There has to be something else around here besides crappy cereal.”

“Not lobsters,” Five muttered under his breath as he watched you rummage around.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

You poked your head into the fridge. “Ah-ha!” you exclaimed triumphantly as you pulled out a package of cheese. “Perfect. I’ll make us grilled cheese.”

Five made a small noise of approval and let you continue searching for the bread and butter. As you got to work at the stove, he studied your movements. You could feel him watching you even though you were trying to ignore him; until you felt his hands on your hips and the soft exhale of breath on your neck. With the spatula in your hand and raised in the air over the pan, you stopped and closed your eyes, your body apparently not caring that you were in the middle of making food.

“You’re going to make me burn this, you know.” You tried to scold him, but the tremble in your voice gave you away.

“I was fine with my cereal and vodka. The grilled cheese was your idea.”

His voice was quiet next to your ear and his lips brushed your skin. You shivered against him, but you were determined not to let him win. You flipped the sandwich on the pan, happy to see that it was a nice golden brown and not charred black. Five continued to tease you, running his hands up your sides and kissing your shoulder, even as you continued to ignore him. When you were finished, you turned off the stove and stepped back, forcing Five to let go and back away.

Pretending you hadn’t been just seconds away from abandoning the sandwich and jumping him, you pointed to a cupboard.

“Can you find a plate?”

Begrudgingly finding a plate, Five handed it to you and you cut the sandwich in two for the both of you to share. You had to admit, it made a really good midnight snack and being with Five had worked up your appetite. It was even better when you both capped it off with a shot of vodka; and even Five acknowledged it was better than his original use for it. When you were both finished, he stood in front of you, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“All this time I didn’t think I was hungry, but it turns out I was starving.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, do you want me to make you another one?”

Five shook his head and smiled, resting his hands on your waist. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh…” was all you could breathe out as he loosely held your chin and tilted your head up.

“I’ve always taken care of myself and I never thought I needed anything or anyone else. But I think I was wrong. Because I like this.”

He kissed you and you let your eyes fall shut. “The sex?” you asked quietly.

“Not just the sex, although that is amazing. It’s all of these other things you’ve done for me. Standing up to my family and defending me, making sure I didn’t drink too much, asking if I’m ok. Making me food. No one has ever done anything like that for me before and I didn’t realize how much I was craving it.”

“Everyone deserves to be taken care of sometimes, Five. I’m sorry it’s taken this long for someone to do it for you. And I’m sorry we don’t have more time, but I’m glad I could at least show you that.”

“Thank you,” he murmured before kissing you again.

When he pulled away, you smiled slyly. “If we go back to our room, I can take care of you in a different way that is even better than grilled cheese.”

“What the hell are we still doing here, then?”

You laughed and dragged him out of the kitchen by his hand, narrowly escaping the hard pinch he was about to give your butt. When you finally made it back to the room, you were feeling light and happy, the looming oppression of the giant fireball outside having been temporarily forgotten.

The two of you were starting to get really good at removing your clothing in a fast and efficient way, and soon you were lying naked on top of Five, kissing him as his hands roamed your body. As you started to move your mouth further down his chest and over his stomach, you felt his muscles tense when he realized what you were doing.

“I can’t let the world end without making sure you experienced another one of my super powers.”

You heard him suck in a breath as you kissed the inside of his thigh. “You might not have anything to compare it to, but trust me when I tell you I give outstanding blow jobs.”

Five made another soft whining noise and you were having fun taking your time. With one hand gripping him loosely, you flicked your tongue lightly across the head of his cock; teasing. He inhaled sharply and you gave another soft lick before slowly moving your hand up and down the shaft. You only took him fully into your mouth one time before pulling back and off again, leaving Five desperate for more. While you leisurely stroked him with your hand again, you looked up at him.

“You know what’s weird? Why is it called a blow job? We’re not blowing anything. It should be called a suck job.”

Five ran a frustrated hand down his face with a groan before placing the same hand on the back of your head. “We can discuss the etiology of the phrase later,” he croaked out.

Your giggles were cut off by a choking noise as Five shoved your face down, giving you no choice but to fill your mouth with the full length of his cock. He moved his hand off your head as you slid your lips up and down; and he groaned loudly again.

“Fuck, that feels so good.”

Even though you wanted to show off your special skill, you still couldn’t resist continuing to tease him. You were too loopy with happiness; it was something you couldn’t even explain. Popping your mouth off of him, you looked up at him with big eyes and a wicked smile.

“You know what else is weird?”

“The fact that you don’t shut up?”

“No. The fact that I can suck your dick and that's fine, but it would be considered really gross if I used your toothbrush to brush my teeth. Weird, right?”

He pushed a hand down his face in frustration. “Well, you’re not sucking my dick right now. So, maybe let’s focus on that and not toothbrush etiquette.”

After another sensual lick up the underside of his shaft, you stopped again. “I just thought of something else…”

With a growl that made you laugh out loud, Five opened his eyes again and looked down at you, his breaths coming fast and hard. “What is wrong with you, woman?”

Before you could get out a sarcastic remark, Five had sat up and flipped you over so that he was pinning you down into the mattress. It had happened so fast you hadn’t seen it coming and you gave a tiny shriek that turned into a laugh until his hand was around your throat. One side of his mouth turned up and his eyes flashed with a dangerous glint.

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t think you realize who you’re playing with here.”

The grip on your throat wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but it was enough to feel the pressure of his fingers digging into your skin, and you imagined the red marks they would leave in their wake. Your hands clasped onto his forearm, but you didn’t try to push his hand away. Instead, you stared up at him longingly, your lungs burning while you sucked in a hard breath.

His lips met yours with a ferocity you hadn’t seen in him yet, and he pushed his hand harder against your throat. When a strained moan drifted out of your lips, he drew back to look you in the eyes again.

“You need to learn to behave. Hold your wrists out for me.”

His voice was hard and demanding and it made you want to do anything for him with no questions asked. You held your wrists up together in front of you while you laid beneath him on the bed. He released his hold on your neck and sat back on his knees.

He picked his discarded tie off the floor next to the bed. The black silk was soft against your skin as he wrapped it around each wrist and tied it securely together in the middle. He obviously knew what he was doing and there would be no escaping this particular knot, no matter how hard you struggled against it.

After one hard kiss, sucking at your bottom lip as he pulled away, you saw pure lust flicker over his eyes; right before he flipped you over onto your stomach. With a hard pull backwards, his strong hands grasping at your hips, you were at his mercy as he rubbed his hard length along the warm, wet crease between your legs. The long, shaky whine you let out was muffled by the curtain of hair that fell around your face as you propped yourself up on your forearms. With your wrists tied together, you had little control over your body and you found yourself eagerly relinquishing all of your power to Five.

He was completely and wholly in charge of you, and you made sure he knew it by pressing your ass back into him and sighing softly, fully submitting to whatever he wanted. His hand passed between your shoulder blades and slowly down your back. You could feel the heat from his fingers on your skin and you imagined them burning long, red lines down your spine; branding you as his own. And in that moment, you were undeniably his.

His body covered yours, his chest pressed against your back as he held himself over you. He kissed your neck and your hair, rocking his hips into you so you could feel him hard and ready for you.

“You showed me that you want this,” he whispered. “But I need you to tell me it’s ok. Because I’m not going to hold back.”

You shook your head with a smile and looked over your shoulder, your hair still in your face. “Don’t hold back. I want everything you can give me.”

He was nuzzling into your hair, rubbing his cheek and nose over what was probably a tangled mess by now, and he made a quiet, happy humming noise before holding himself up with one hand as he pushed your hair to one side of your neck. Leaning in, his lips brushed feather-light across your shoulder. Then you heard the danger in his voice again, as his mouth grazed the skin next to your ear.

“Be a good girl for me, ok sweetheart? Just relax and give me what I want. And then after I’m through using you like the little fuck doll you are, I promise to make it feel so good for you.”

He pressed himself against you again, letting his thick cock nestle between your ass cheeks, and he let out a moan when he slid it back and forth a few times. The feeling made you push back against him harder, your head down and your ass in the air, whining like a cat in heat. Five chuckled darkly at your reaction.

“Look how desperate you are. And I seriously thought about fucking you in the ass, because we both know you want it.”

Five sat up on his knees behind you, pulling your hips back against his thighs, his cock still buried in your ass crack. His hand lovingly smoothed your hair and caressed your back, even as he talked in that sinister voice of his.

“But then I realized we don’t have the proper accessories handy, and even if you would let me just to please me, I don’t want to hurt you. So, while I would love to bury my dick deep inside your tight little asshole, we’re going to have to do that another time.”

He drew back, rubbing your backside with both hands before hauling back and smacking you hard on one cheek and then the other. You cried out and clenched your eyes shut, but it wasn’t from the pain or the surprise. It was because you loved it, and you wanted more.

This was one of the fantasies you had placed in Five’s mind earlier. You wanted to be dominated and used; fucked into the mattress and then praised for your good behavior. And he was right, you probably would have let him fuck your ass raw, because you knew how to behave and take it. You wanted to show him you could be a good girl for him.

His hands grabbed your tits roughly, and he jerked you up and backwards so that you were on your knees in front of him, your back flush against his chest. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his body as he breathed hard into the crook of your neck, the muscles in your back burning with the way he was pulling you into him. But when he started to suck another deep bruise onto the side of your neck, you let your head fall to the side to make more room. The only thing holding you up were his hands on your breasts, massaging and squeezing them together, the tendons in his forearms tight as he held your weight against him. If he let go, you’d have no way to catch yourself, since your hands were still bound together.

The cry from deep in your throat was strangled and broken as you felt his teeth scrape sharply across the tender mark he had made on your neck. He moved you over slightly so that you were sitting on his thigh.

“God, you’re so fucking wet for me,” he groaned.

When you started to grind yourself onto his leg, unable to help yourself, he moved one arm down so that he was holding you around the front of your waist, keeping you still. His other arm stayed wrapped around your chest.

“I know you’re aching to get some relief, and I can feel you dripping down my leg, but you have to be good and stay still. Understand?”

Everything between your legs was engorged and throbbing, and you did want relief more than anything. But you nodded your head with a quiet whimper.

He kissed your shoulder again. “My good girl,” he murmured.

When he shoved you off of his leg, letting go of his hold on you, you fell ungracefully forward, landing on the side of your face until you could get your arms under you again. It was hard to see behind you, even if you craned your neck, but you could feel his hands on your hips, fingers digging hard into your flesh, as Five positioned you where he wanted you.

The seconds seemed to drag on forever as you waited, unmoving; the only sounds were your ragged breathing. When he used his knees to shove your legs further apart and you felt his hips against you, you held your breath in anticipation.

Then he was slowly and deliberately pushing inside of you, until he was as deep as possible, holding himself there as he listened to your desperate moans. His body was on top of you again, pushing you down, almost flat against the mattress, so that he could thrust into you while his mouth had access to your shoulders and neck. You squeezed your eyes shut, using all your strength to keep yourself propped up on your forearms as one of his arms wrapped around your upper body and the other held himself up for leverage. He gave one hard, violent thrust into you, pushing you forward. He paused, just long enough to leave you waiting, before ramming into you once again. 

"Fuck, yes..." you heard him murmur before he shoved himself into you again. "Just lie still, honey, that's it."

You couldn't have moved, even if you wanted to, as he pinned you down from behind. It was uncomfortable and scary, letting him have this much control, but you fucking loved every second of it.

“You take my dick so well. Just like that, baby. You’re doing so good for me, I know that perfect cunt of yours can take more,” he rasped.

Five continued to fuck into you, methodically and forcefully, pulling back slowly and slamming hard inside again. With each thrust, you could hear his rough, staccato grunts and feel his hissing breath against your skin. The sounds you were making were desperate and pained; the deep penetration of his cock only half of what you needed from him. But Five refused to give you any satisfaction in the way of his fingers. All of his focus was on his needs and how far he could push your limits.

“You feel so amazing…fuck! Do you even know how fucking good you feel? Only you could make me this hard.” He pushed violently into you again and you let out a pathetic cry.

“Please,” you begged, not even really sure if you were begging for him to stop or to give you more.

“Shh…you’re doing so well for me, baby doll. I’m so proud of you. Just a little longer, ok, sweet girl?” he praised, kissing your temple sweetly even as he rammed into you from behind. His groan vibrated against your skin. “God damn it, I could keep fucking you forever, you feel so good.”

But his thrusts started to come faster, and his chest was heaving on top of you as he let out a long and husky growl into the back of your neck, muffling it with your hair. He filled you up with his hot seed until he was fully spent; arms shaking as he climbed off of you. When you started to push yourself up, assuming he was going to let you, he pushed you back down until you were flat on your stomach once more.

“Stay right there, sweetheart. You did such a good job for me and I know you’re so close. Let me take care of you now.”

He pushed his hand between your legs from behind, putting pressure right where you had been missing, and you let out a loud scream just from the relief of it. As he pressed into your clit, you couldn’t help moving your hips against him so you were riding his hand.

“That’s right, keep going. Let me hear you, baby. Louder.”

He kept at it, his hand wet and sticky from his own cum that was spilling out of you. You sobbed and screamed his name until a long-awaited orgasm ripped through your body, leaving you a crying, shaking mess. Your hips gave a few more involuntary twitches before you finally collapsed into the bed again; limp and gasping for air. Five wiped his hand on the bedsheet and undid the tie around your wrists. Then he helped you turn over so you were looking up at him on your back, still trying to catch your breath.

“Was that good for you?” he asked, his eyebrows creased together in sincerity like he was waiting for his end-of-the-quarter performance review. “Is that what you wanted?”

You couldn’t help but laugh up at him. “Jesus Christ, Five! That was fucking amazing! You couldn’t tell?”

He was still looking worried and unsure and you sighed heavily, still smiling and shaking your head. “Seriously, if I could, I’d give you a glowing Yelp review. Five out of five wet vaginas…would come here again.”

That smug smile returned to his face and he leaned down to kiss you. “I’m kind of liking that smart-ass mouth of yours. It’s pretty cute.”

“That’s good. Because it’s the only one I have.”

Just as Five was helping you sit up, there was a loud knock on the door and you both jumped. He looked at you, questioningly, but you just shrugged your shoulders. It’s not like housekeeping was going to be stopping by.

The knock came again, this time louder and more insistent. Then you could both hear muffled voices outside, sounding like people were arguing.

“Fuck,” Five muttered under his breath as he angrily swiped his boxer briefs from the floor and yanked them on. “Fucking fuck fuckers…”

You watched as Five stormed over to the door and swung it open, his face twisted into a murderous rage. The three men standing outside looked suddenly scared and they stopped talking immediately. Klaus, Diego, and Luther glanced nervously at one another as Five seethed in front of them.

“What? What are you assholes doing here? And how did you even find me?”

More glances were exchanged and then Luther’s voice cracked. “Well, we, uh…we kind of heard some loud noises, so then we followed them, and, you know, we may have heard your name a couple times, so-”

Diego cut him off with a knowing smile, holding out his hand for a fist bump. “Seriously dude, I’m super impressed. Nice job, old man.”

The look on Five’s face did nothing to deter Diego, despite the fact that he was in immediate danger of losing his life. Klaus was more in tune to his brother’s wrath, and slowly lowered Diego’s hand before Five completely snapped.

“Look, we felt bad about how we left things, and we wanted to talk. That’s all,” Klaus explained.

“I don’t feel bad. I said what I said. There’s nothing to talk about,” Five barked back.

Luther sighed. “Please, Five, come on. We’re sorry. And we don’t want things to end like that.”

“Please, Fivey?

“Please, what? What do you want from me?”

“We just want to talk to you, ok? Can you at least just give us a couple minutes? That’s all we’re asking,” Diego said, suddenly very sincere.

Five sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Since I know you’ll just keep annoying me.”

Klaus made a move to step into the room, but Five immediately stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Absolutely not. You idiots can wait in the hallway. Give me five minutes.”

Klaus shrunk back into the hall, looking like a kicked puppy, while Luther rolled his eyes. But they stayed where they were. Five was about to close the door when Diego cried out.

“Wait, Five!”

Five paused and Diego took a step closer, leaning his head in and talking in a low voice as if no one else around him could hear.

“I’ve never heard Lila make noises like that. What’s your secret? Is there like a trick or a secret move you can teach me-“ he was cut off as Five slammed the door directly in his face.

“Fucking. Idiots.” Five raged under his breath, his hands clenched into tight fists.

You were still sitting in the bed, a sheet covering your body, as you stared at Five with wide eyes.

“Are you ok? You look like you’re about to murder someone,” you said with a nervous laugh, but not really joking.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled while he walked around, picking up the various parts of his suit off the floor.

You watched him quietly, not daring to say anything, as he stormed into the bathroom and shut the door. A few minutes later, he emerged, dressed in his full suit again, and he adjusted his tie. The confused look on your face must have said it all, because when he looked at you, he just shrugged and pulled the cuffs of his shirt down.

“I can think better like this,” he said gruffly.

“Ok…” your voice trailed off and you weren’t sure what else to say. The arrival of his brothers had thrown him into a weird mood and you weren’t sure how to navigate it.

“Wait here,” he said sharply.

Before you could snap back at him and tell him to quit talking to you like that, he disappeared in a flash of blue. With a huff, you got up, pulling your underwear on and walked to the door so you could eavesdrop. You could also peer out the peephole in the door, watching the four men as they stood in the hall looking anxious.

“Alright, I’m here. Talk,” Five demanded, his hands shoved into his pants pockets while he waited for one of the others to respond.

“Five, we’re sorry. We thought about what you said earlier, and you’re right. We have been unfair to you and we wanted to apologize. Before…you know…there’s no more time left,” Luther started.

“And we don’t blame you for everything that’s happened. Well, at least not anymore. It’s just that there’s been a lot of crazy, shitty things that have happened to us, and you did seem to be in the middle of it, and-“

Klaus cut Diego off. “What Diego means is that even though this may not be the most ideal situation we’re in right now; we know it’s not your fault.”

“Great. You apologized. Are we done here?”

You could see that Five was still staring them down, his body tense and the muscles in his jaw working.

Luther sighed. “Come on, Five, don’t be like that. We’re family. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Five strode angrily over to Luther and glared up at him, his teeth clenched. “It used to. Until I woke up and realized we were never a family to begin with, and I spent my entire life trying to save you shitheads for no reason. Because look where it got us! Right back with Dad in another fucking timeline with the world ending again. And I can’t do a god damn thing to stop it!”

His words seemed to shock him as much as the rest of them, and he took a step back, his body relaxing slightly.

“Is that what this is really about? You think you need to save us?” Klaus asked.

Five didn’t answer, but his face had lost the rigidity and sternness that it had before. It was hard to make out from the door, but he looked sad and your heart broke just a little.

“Five, you did save us. You saved us as many times as you could. It’s just that the universe had different plans, that’s all,” Diego offered.

Five raised his head and looked up, then back at his brothers. “I tried. I tried and I failed. So, this is it and we just have to accept that.” He looked at Klaus. “I know you want me to believe that this version of Dad is a better version and we should trust him. But that’s not going to happen, Klaus, I’m sorry. He’s not interested in our safety, or our wellbeing, or our happiness. He never has been.”

Klaus looked down sadly, but he nodded his head and Diego turned to Five.

“Some of us are staying. But we’re going to stay together, and we want you to come with us. Because we are a family. Even if we’re the most fucked up family on what’s left of this planet.”

“But Dad is still trying to convince everyone, and he said he only needs two more. So, that’s still an option if you change your mind. The rest of us, we’ll be in the lobby at the bar, drinking what’s left of the booze and waiting out the end. And we’d love for you to join us,” Luther told him.

Five nodded solemnly and was about to explain that he was happy where he was, but then Luther continued.

“I know it’s none of my business, and I’m truly happy that you found someone to spend the rest of this time with. But you’re not being fair. She deserves to know that she has a choice. You can’t make that decision for her.”

Five glanced back at the door, and you flinched, thinking he could see you through the peephole, but of course he couldn’t. Then he turned back to his brothers.

“Don’t worry about me or her, we’re doing fine. Which is why I’m going to stay here. I won’t be joining you, I’m sorry.”

The brothers looked sad as they stood there, not saying anything, and the air hanging heavy with their words. Finally, Diego spoke.

“Alright, man, I get it. We’ll leave you alone. But just know that you are our brother. And we love you.”

Luther and Klaus nodded in agreement and Five tried his best to look angry again, but failed. He hung his head and shook it slowly before raising it again.

“Yeah, ok. I love you assholes, too, I guess. Now leave and go back to your wives and girlfriends and long-lost asshole brothers. It’s been…an interesting life together.”

There was a flurry of shoulder claps and hair ruffling and side-hugs and then the other three were on their way, leaving Five standing in the hallway alone. You didn’t want him to know you’d been listening when he came back in, so you hurried off into the bathroom to take a shower. While you were in there, you thought about everything you had heard. You were glad he had made amends with his brothers. But you wondered what Luther was talking about when he said Five needed to tell you about a choice you had.

When you were finished, you threw on the same clothes you’d been wearing, and you found Five sitting on the bed. He was in just his dress shirt and pants again, with his shirt sleeves rolled up. He smiled sheepishly when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi. You better now?” you asked sharply.

He nodded. “I know I wasn’t very nice to you just then. So, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“I also need to tell you something.”

“Yeah, ok, what is it?” You folded your arms over your chest defensively, but then Five patted the bed next to him and you went and sat down.

Five took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you. Well, not that I’ve lied, but more like I’ve withheld some information from you.”

You raised your eyebrows but didn’t comment. Five cleared his throat and continued.

“The truth is, you don’t have to stay here and wait for the world to end. At least theoretically.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know when Reginald mentioned Project Oblivion to you?” You nodded. “That’s his hare-brained scheme that could potentially be a way of saving the world.”

When you looked shocked, he held up a hand. “Don’t get too excited. Anything having to do with Reginald should be considered dangerous and he is most likely using us for his own selfish agenda. That’s how it’s always been.”

“But what is his plan?”

Five sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know exactly. But it entails going through some sort of portal into another dimension; another version of this hotel. But there’s more to it than that and we could end up just as dead.”

You frowned. “But we’re going to die here for sure if we stay. If there’s even a chance, why wouldn’t you at least try? If you die there, what’s the difference?”

Five looked at you with so much sadness and sorrow in his eyes, that you didn’t need to tap into his mind to read his emotions.

“Because I don’t want this to be his decision. I want it to be mine. If I go along with him, and I die at his hands, then he will have won again. But if I stay and accept my fate; then at least I’ll have died free from his control.”

He reached over and took your hands in his. “You don’t have to stay here with me, though. I want you to know that. It was unfair of me to have waited this long to tell you. And I would understand if you decided to go.”

You nodded thoughtfully, looking down at your hands that were clasped together. It seemed like a no-brainer. Why wouldn’t you take a chance if it meant there was a possibility, no matter how small, that you didn’t have to die in a fiery apocalypse? But you barely knew his siblings, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were still afraid of Reginald. You hadn’t known Five long at all, but somehow you trusted him. And when you looked into his eyes, you decided to accept your own fate.

“I’m staying with you.”

He looked stunned. “You want to stay here with me? Are you sure?”

You smiled sadly and nodded. “Yes, I trust you, Five. And I don’t trust your father. So, wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be.”

With a huge sigh of relief, Five leaned in to kiss you, squeezing your hands tighter in his own.

“Ok, then. We’ll do this together.”

When the tiredness hit you both, you laid down on the bed, Five holding you from behind. He pulled you in close to him and wrapped his arms around your middle. You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were and the feeling of his body against yours put you at ease; your muscles relaxing and melting into him as you closed your heavy eyelids.

“Thank you,” Five murmured sleepily. “Thank you for staying. I don’t want to be alone.”

You wiggled back into him and he tightened his hold on you. “I don’t want to be alone, either,” you said quietly.

In another minute, you were both asleep, with Five holding you in his strong embrace; the rise and fall of his chest already so familiar to you that you wondered how you ever slept without it before.

Chapter Five: Stay/Epilogue

You woke up with a sudden jolt, looking around for something that may have woken you. But all that you could see was the orange blaze from outside of the window. It was brighter now and lit up the whole room with a sinister, flickering glow. In another circumstance it may have looked pretty, like a fireplace or candlelight. But now it just looked like hell.

When you realized you were still alive, at least for the time being, you looked next to you in the bed. Five was gone. You called out his name, but there was no answer and he wasn’t in the bathroom. There was also no note left on the table. He was just gone. And you started to panic.

Scrambling out of bed, you threw on your shorts and t-shirt, trying to remain as calm as possible. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest and your pulse was deafening in your ears. As your hand turned the doorknob to leave, you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to steady your nerves.

You decided to take the stairs rather than the elevator, peeking down each floor’s empty and silent hallway on the way down. When you reached the lobby, it was just as you feared. There was no one. You had overheard the others say they were going to camp out in the lobby bar, but there was no sign of them. Maybe they had moved the party into another room, but something in the back of your mind told you that wasn’t the case.

Swallowing down the rising panic you felt creeping up your throat, you continued to look around. You couldn’t hear anyone talking in the distance or even footsteps. It was eerily quiet and you found yourself tiptoeing in your bare feet, not wanting to miss any noises. This was it, you were sure of it. Everyone else had been sucked up or destroyed or whatever by the kugelblitz. And you were the last one left. It was your worst nightmare coming true.

When you were just about to give up and crumble to the floor in despair, you turned a corner into a large game room. You hadn’t known it was there, but there was another pool table inside, identical to the one in the lobby. There were also dart boards and smaller tables for playing cards. There was a very large picture window that lined one wall and looked out onto the courtyard. Or at least, it would have if the courtyard still existed.

That’s where you found him. He was silhouetted against the window, his body backlit by the orange and red fireball outside, his back to you. When you saw him, the immense relief you felt washed over you, mixing with your fear and anger until you exploded in a sudden rage.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD! YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, your voice trembling and the tears already spilling over.

Five whirled around to see you doubled over, face shiny and wet, as you clutched at your stomach and leaned into the side of the pool table for support. You continued to scream, even though your choking sobs were making everything unintelligible.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, I THOUGHT..."

Five blinked over to you, grabbing you by the arms to hold you up, but you just collapsed into his chest, sobbing harder. You felt his hand on your head, stroking your hair while he held you to him. He may have been saying something to you, maybe that he was sorry, but you couldn’t hear him. You could only hear your own wailing cries and the blood pounding in your ears. After several minutes, when the crying eventually faded to hiccups and your breathing started to slow again, you wiped at your face but continued to let Five hold you.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” he murmured as he kissed the top of your head.

You nodded miserably into his chest, still not looking up. “I was so scared. I thought I was the only one left.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep so I came down here and it didn’t even occur to me that you would wake up and think I was gone.”

Your hands grasped at his shoulders and he pulled you in tighter. “Don’t leave me again. Please.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

You exhaled a long, shaky breath; a few silent tears still slipping down your cheeks and onto his shirt. “I just don’t want to be alone when it happens.”

“Look at me,” he said softly, and you finally raised your head. You let go of his shoulders and he took your hands in his. “I promise I will never leave you again. We’ll go out together, ok? We’re a team now.”

You nodded your head again. “Yeah, ok.”

When he started to pull away, you grabbed onto his belt loops on either side of his waist and tugged him towards you. “Don’t leave.”

Five smiled down at you and brushed away the strands of hair that were sticking to your face. “I wasn’t going to leave.”

“No, I need you close to me. Please,” you whined.

It was pathetic and there’s no way in hell the old you would have ever begged a man to stay like that. But that was then and this was now, and things were different. You were different. And you didn’t care how you sounded.

“Ok,” Five answered quietly as he wrapped his arms around you.

But that still wasn’t enough and you pulled his face to yours with a hand on his neck, kissing him slowly at first but then starting to hungrily devour him. You were making desperate little whimpering noises into his mouth as you grabbed onto his body, pulling and clutching at him, even though there was nowhere else to go. He was as close to you as physically possible.

“You’re upset, maybe we shouldn’t…” he offered.

He was cut off when you reached between his legs and cupped his groin, feeling him grow harder against your hand as you rubbed him firmly. He let out a quiet moan and his eyes closed.

“I need you, Five. Please.”

You were practically in tears again with desperation. It was unhealthy and probably for all the wrong reasons, but you couldn’t help it. You needed as much of him as possible and as quickly as possible. It was the only way to feel ok again.

“I just think maybe you’ve been through a lot recently-“

Smothering him in hard kisses to shut him up, you stopped briefly to pull your shirt over your head, throwing it on the floor before undoing your shorts and letting them fall off of you. Five looked down at your body and let out a low groan.

“Shit,” he breathed out. “You’re not playing fair.”

He grabbed onto you, boosting you up onto the side of the pool table and stood between your legs. He was just as desperate for you now, but he backed away a couple inches and placed his hands on your shoulders so you would pay attention to him.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

You shook your head, already not liking the fact that his body wasn’t against yours. “You’re not. I promise.”

It only took one look at your naked body and the hungry look on your face to convince him and he let you grab his shirt collar and pull him forcefully into you. You needed to feel his body on you, to feel his hot skin against you, and you desperately clawed at each button of his shirt until you pushed it down his arms and yanked the rest of it off. He kissed you with one hand in your hair and the other massaging your breast as you fumbled with the fly of his pants, finally gaining access and pushing them down his thighs.

When you grasped tightly to his firm cock and slid your hand over it, Five sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth and threw his head back. You moved forward a little, spreading your legs and guiding him inside. You were already soaking wet and he slid in with ease, pushing himself into you as you thrust your hips forward.

His mouth was on your neck as he slammed hard against you, shoving himself as far into you as he could manage while holding tightly to your hips.

You were delirious in your desire for him, not even making any sense as you scratched desperately at his back and shoulders, his arms and neck; pleading with him to give you more. There was no way he could be closer to you, with his mouth on your skin, his arms clinging tightly to your body, and his dick deep inside you. But it wasn’t enough. The tears were falling down your face again, mixing with the sweet taste of his lips.

He gradually slowed his pace, gently rolling his hips into you as his eyes locked onto yours and he wiped away a tear with his thumb.

“It’s ok, sweetheart, I’m here. You’re not alone, ok?”

When he called you sweetheart, it carried none of the teasing or derisiveness it had before. This time it was sincere and loving and you nodded, your body finally starting to relax a little and you let yourself give in; melting into him as he kissed you. But then your gaze drifted to the windows and he saw the fear in your eyes again.

“Look at me,” he said, turning your face back to him. “Focus on me. Can you feel that?”

Five thrust himself slowly but forcibly into you and you let out a breathy cry. Your body reacted and you pushed your hips into him again, letting go of his body and placing your hands behind you on the table to brace yourself.

“Yeah…it feels good,” you answered quietly, still maintaining eye contact.

“Then just focus on that. There’s nothing else, and you feel so good right now, baby.”

His hands grasped your hips tightly and you put all of your focus on him and the way he was making you feel.

“Five,” you sighed as your head fell back and your eyes closed. You felt his lips on your neck again and your legs wrapped tightly around him. “Keep talking. I want to hear your voice.”

He pressed into you harder, his movements deliberate while his breath was harsh and loud. You emitted a soft cry every time he rocked into you.

“I don’t need anything else. Just you. Only you.”

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

“I promise. I’m not going to leave you.”

Five’s hand was gripping your upper thigh while the other was around your lower back, holding you in place as he penetrated you harder and faster. His mouth was greedily sucking at your neck and jaw as he started to lose his control, pushing roughly into you as you used all your strength to brace yourself against the impact. It was blissful, this building feeling inside; how he knew just where and when to fuck into you, over and over again. You couldn’t get enough of his insistent kisses or passionate moans and it made you feel good; like you were high. And you wanted to keep that feeling with you forever.

“Oh god, Five…I want to be all yours. I want to belong to you.”

“You are mine, sweetheart. And I’m yours. And there’s no one else.”

He let out a shuddering groan as he came inside of you, the final thrust of his hips setting off a series of waves that spread over your body as you climaxed with him. Your entire body seemed to curl into him as your muscles spasmed and you moaned desperately into the crook of his neck, your fingers weaving tightly in his hair.

When you were both able to unfurl from each other, you smiled shyly at him and blushed. It was embarrassing, the way you had acted. But Five’s smile back at you was not mocking in any way and he kissed you gently before helping you down from the table.

“Are you ok?” he asked, his hands resting loosely on your hips.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I’m sorry…I don’t-“

“Don’t apologize, ok? You have nothing to be sorry for. And I meant everything I said.”

Even though you weren’t entirely convinced of that, you let it go and started to get dressed. After Five had put his pants back on, you both looked at each other and then to the terrifying fireball that filled the entire wall of windows.

“Can we go back now?” you asked nervously.

Not that it mattered where you went; no area of the hotel was safer than any other. But for whatever reason, the little homebase you and Five had made on the third floor felt safer. And you wanted to go back before you felt another panic attack creeping in.

Five nodded. “Come on, let’s go.”

Throwing his shirt on, but leaving it unbuttoned, he held your hand as you walked through the empty hotel lobby. You noticed his concerned glance to the bar area.

“Where are they?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s possible they all went off with my father after all. Or maybe they decided to go back to their rooms.”

“Well, do you want to go look for them?”

He hesitated and shook his head again. “No, we said what we needed to. What’s done is done. There’s nothing more I can do.”

It wasn’t your place to say, so you offered nothing else besides a supportive squeeze of his hand. You didn’t think it was right for him to just give up that easily. Shouldn’t he at least make sure they were ok? But then again, you were the outsider here. You really had no idea of what they had been through as a family.

Once you were back in the room, you breathed a sigh of relief. You were ready to snuggle back into bed and go back to sleep, but Five was obviously agitated. He kept pacing the room, unable to relax and he had shut down again; not wanting to talk about anything.

“Five,” you started hesitantly. “It’s ok if you want to make sure they’re alright.”

He stopped pacing momentarily to look at you, then continued with his head down and his hands balled into fists. “There’s no point, I told you. There’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. If they’re gone, they’re gone. End of story.”

“Ok, yeah…I get that. But you’re obviously very upset and maybe it would just make you feel better if you found out for sure. Don’t you think so?”

Five halted again, his face screwed up in concentration and he let out a loud, frustrated groan, throwing his hands in the air. “Nothing but aggravation!”

You frowned with confusion. “What?”

When he faced you, you could see the muscles straining in his neck as he finally unleashed what he’d been stewing about.

“Them! All of them! My entire life…nothing but aggravation from them! Here we are, with probably hours left in this universe, and they decide to just fuck off with no explanation?! After everything was done. We had closure. It was final. But do you think these assholes can keep things simple? Of course not! Now I’m going to have to traipse all over this god damn hotel looking for them because they can’t just stay in one spot and leave me the fuck alone!”

You had to bite your lip to stop from laughing. But you composed yourself and spoke calmly.

“Five, I heard you and your brothers talking earlier.”

“You did?”

“Yes. And I’m sorry I eavesdropped, but I did hear what you said and I know you care for them. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t find out what happened.”

“It doesn’t matter whether I forgive myself or not. The world is ending any moment now, so what’s the difference?”

You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Just go. I’ll be ok.”

He shook his head. “No. I told you I wasn’t going to leave you again. I meant it.”

“It’s ok, really. I know you’ll be back. This is something you need to do by yourself, I don’t need to be involved.”

He looked at you thoughtfully. “I think I know where they are. Or least where they were. The White Buffalo Suite. I’m sure of it.”

You really didn’t want him to leave you, but he had already done so much for you. He was your protector when he had no reason to be. You felt that you owed him.

“Then, please, just go,” you insisted, making sure he was looking you in the eye.

Finally, he nodded slowly. “Ok. But I promise I will be back.”

“I know you will.”

He crossed the room to you, placing his hands on either side of your face and tilting your head up to look at him.

“I meant it, you know. I only want you. And I’ll be back; I won’t leave you.”

You blinked back the tears you felt forming again and swallowed the lump in your throat. But you knew he was telling the truth.

“I believe you. And I’ll be here when you get back.”

Without another word, he kissed you, and then he was gone; vanished in a blur of sizzling blue. You were alone.

The next half hour was anxiety-inducing. You had wanted Five to leave to find his family, you really did. But that didn’t ease the feeling of impending death that lingered in the air. You crawled into bed, lying down and covering yourself with the sheets, breathing in the scent that Five had left behind. It made your body ache to not have him near you, and you choked back the sobs you felt forming in your chest. It was so stupid. You weren’t a child. You could certainly be alone for an hour or two. But no matter what you told yourself, you were frozen with fear, listening for any sign that Five might be returning; the loud hiss and rumble of the kugelblitz outside a constant reminder of what precious time you had left.

The knock on the door made you jump and you sat up, thinking maybe you were just imagining things. But then it came again. Another knock; a clear and precise rapping that was most definitely real. You leaped out of the bed, not even thinking. You assumed it was Five and the thought hadn’t even occurred to you that he wouldn’t have knocked. He would have just blinked in like every other time.

Without looking through the peephole, you opened the door with a smile. But your smile fell immediately when you realized your mistake. Standing in front of you was none other than Reginald Hargreeves; hands clasped in front of him and an arrogant smile on his face. You gasped and took a step back.

“Hello, my dear. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

He looked over your shoulder and seeing that the room was empty, he took a step forward. That same fear that had gripped you when he approached you at the wedding washed over you and you were frozen in place.

“There’s no need to be frightened, child. I’m looking for Number Five. Is he here?”

You shook your head, unable to speak and Reginald chuckled.

“Do you know where he may have gone? I’m afraid it’s an urgent matter. As all things are these days.”

Finally, you found your voice. It was quiet and shaky, but you stood your ground and raised your head to face the man that terrified you. There was no way in hell you were about to tell him where Five was.

“I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him since the wedding. It’s just been me here.”

Reginald nodded solemnly, still wearing that knowing, half smile of his. You saw his gaze drift past you and land on the floor where Five’s suit jacket and tie had been left. He looked back at you, and his eyes narrowed just a little.

“I see. Well, no worries. I wanted to speak with you, as well.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. It’s a shame that you have been raised to believe you have such limits to your abilities. Had you been under my supervision, your powers would be stronger than you could have even imagined. I’m sorry your parents never taught you any different.”

“Don’t talk about my parents,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “I know what you tried to do. Buy me from them so you could raise me along with your other neglected children. Thank god they were smarter than that.”

“You misunderstand, my dear. I only want to see you reach your full potential.”

“Like you did with Five? He’s a fucking disaster, and it’s all because of you!”

Reginald shook his head sadly. “Number Five does have problems, I will admit. However, that was not I that raised him. That was a different, harsher, version of myself. I have nothing but respect and admiration for my current children.”

You snorted sarcastically. “Yeah, right.”

During your back and forth with Reginald, you hadn’t realized that he had taken several more steps and was now fully inside your room. He closed the door behind him with an ominous click and you backed up, even more frightened than you had been.

“The truth is, I am in need of more of you. I need your powers to save us. To save the world. I don’t wish to harm you; you must believe me. I only want to give all of us a chance.”

Your brow was furrowed with confusion. You certainly didn’t trust the man. But what he was saying was just what you had thought earlier when Five told you about Project Oblivion. If there was even a chance of survival, why wouldn’t you take it?

“I don’t believe you. Why should I trust you?”

Reginald smiled genially. “Why don’t you look for yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“Read my emotions. I know that you can. Then you will see that I’m not the terrible person you think I am.”

You scoffed, but didn’t say anything. You had to think. On one hand, you absolutely did not trust him. On the other, what was there to lose? You knew for a fact that no one could hide their true feelings from you once you were connected to their consciousness. It would be impossible for them to lie. So, you really didn’t see what the downside would be. You would either see that he was telling the truth, or that he was lying just like you suspected.

“Alright,” you stated, holding your head up high.

“Excellent,” Reginald grinned happily.

You concentrated as hard as you could. The golden tendrils emerged and started growing, heading straight for Reginald’s mind. Once they reached him, you closed your eyes and looked deep within him. You searched for his emotions and his true intentions. But there was nothing. Just darkness. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t possible. He couldn’t hide anything from you. That’s not how this worked.

You heard him laugh quietly and sinisterly, while you remained connected to him.

“My dear…I thought you were smarter than that. I created you. I can control you.”

The sudden pain was searing as it ripped through your brain, your skull, and your entire body. Like lightning, it coursed through you, sending you dropping to your knees. You clutched your head, screaming in agony as the white-hot light pierced your eyes. The golden tendrils that connected your mind to Reginald’s pulsed and wavered in the air between you, but you couldn’t break them. He held you there, in complete control of your body and mind. You had been so stupid not to have realized what he was capable of.

Reginald stepped closer to you, eyeing you while you writhed on the ground. His voice was like fire as he spoke, the vibrations traveling through the tendrils and directly into the cells and neurons of your brain.

“I’m sorry; truly I am. You have quite the gift, and it’s a shame to have to do this. But I have no alternative, I’m afraid. My ungrateful children seem to have forsaken me, and I need a replacement, you see. I need you. Both of you.”

It was hard to breathe and you curled into yourself on the floor, gasping for air as tears rolled down your cheeks. It was useless to try and fight back. You had tried to break the connection and it was impossible. He was too strong. No matter what you did, he held on, the pain screaming through your body as he stood over you.

“I can stop this, you know. All you have to do is come with me. And the pain will go away.”

The action of forming words and expelling air from your lungs was excruciating, but you gathered all the strength you had left.

“F-fuck…you!” you cried, your voice grating with pain.

You heard him laugh darkly, and another sharp pain shot through your skull. “So spirited. How about you just tell me where Number Five is, then? I know he wouldn’t have left you. He pretends to be a hardened old man like myself, but I’m guessing he’s quite fond of you.”

“I don’t…know…” you sobbed, holding your head in your hands.

With another menacing step forward, Reginald stood directly over you, staring down at your twisting body. You couldn’t see his face, but you heard his voice echoing in your ears and your brain.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, I’m afraid,” he threatened.

As another bolt of lightning shot through you, this one somehow hotter and more painful than the last, you were only partially aware of what was happening outside of your body. There was a faint flash of blue light and you heard your name in the distance. There was an angry yell, and then you saw Reginald’s body drop onto the floor in front of you, his head lying limply to the side and the monocle dropping from his eye.

His neck had been snapped and his eyes stared forward, devoid of life. The pain that had been constant and pulsing inside of you suddenly ceased. With a small whimpering sound, you looked up and saw the silhouette of Five kneeling next to you. You couldn’t speak and it was still hard to breathe, but right before you passed out you heard him tell you it was going to be ok, and he held your head in his lap; the shadow of his face falling over yours as he softly kissed your forehead.

You weren’t sure how long you were blacked out, but when you woke up you were lying down in the bed, your body tingling and your head still aching.  But your lungs no longer burned and you could think clearly again. Someone was lightly stroking your hair and when your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was Five.

He must have moved you to the bed, and he was sitting up against the headboard with your head in his lap again. His head was tipped back and his eyes were closed. But his fingers still carded lightly through your hair and you had a feeling he had been sitting with you for a while.

When you moved and started to lift yourself up, Five startled awake, disoriented at first, until he looked down and saw you awake. His face flooded with relief and he let out a heavy exhale.

“You’re awake,” he breathed out.

You sat up slowly, your head still foggy and your muscles aching. Then the memory of everything that happened came flooding back and you let out a loud gasp, whipping around to look at the spot on the floor where you had been tortured and you had seen Reginald’s dead body. The space was empty. As if nothing unusual had ever occurred there.

Five placed a hand on your arm. “It’s ok. He’s gone.”

When you turned back to him, you saw for the first time how tired he looked. And there was something else. A deep sadness that hadn’t been there before.

“He was in my head…I don’t know how…it was horrible…” you started to say, unable to fully understand everything that happened.

Five pulled you into him, holding you against his chest while he caressed your hair again.

“He was torturing you so you would submit to him and follow him to Oblivion.”

“It was like electricity burning through my body and my head felt like it was going to explode. I could feel him in my mind. But then…you were there and…he was dead.” You looked up at Five. “You killed him.”

“He was hurting you,” he said simply, caressing your cheek with his hand.

“Five.” You looked into his eyes and they were filled with pain. “He was your father.”

He shook his head. “No he wasn’t. And not only because this was a different version of the man that raised me. He was never our father. Because a real father would never do what he has done to his kids. And then when I saw him hurting you like that…” his voice trailed off and you saw him swallow. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, it’s done now. He’s gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Five. This is my fault. He came looking for you, but I didn’t want to tell him where you were, and then he told me to tap into his mind to see if he was lying and I did it. I don’t know why, it was so stupid. I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault. He had it coming, believe me. I probably should have done it a long time ago.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Ironic that he was the one that taught me how to snap a grown man’s neck.”

“Wait, what about your siblings? Did you find them?”

There was silence and you heard Five’s breath catch in his throat. “Not really. But I know what happened to them.”

“Oh no.”

“I was too late. He must have convinced them to go through the tunnel. I tried to go after them, but the entrance was sealed. They’re stuck in there now. Oh, and also he killed Luther.”

“What?”

“I found him in the suite, dead. The whole floor was covered in his blood. Someone killed him and I assume it was Reginald. I don’t know why though, but I’m sure it was all part of his plan.”

“Oh shit, Five. I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

He didn’t say anything more, but you felt a sudden shift in your mind. Like it wasn’t just your thoughts in there anymore. You felt immense grief and sadness; along with an intense anger that was directed toward yourself. But they weren’t your thoughts and you hadn’t connected to Five’s mind.

“Something strange is happening.”

Five sat up a little straighter. “I feel it too.”

“It’s like…I can feel you. Your emotions. They’re mixing with mine.”

“And I can feel yours, I think. How is this happening?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know, I’m not doing anything to make it happen. I don’t understand.”

“Reginald,” Five said, as if that explained everything.

“What about him?”

“When he was connected to you, I had my hands on his head before I snapped his neck. I think maybe some of that energy passed through me. Which means I retained some of your energy, too.”

You sat there, trying to understand what he was saying. He was still in your head; you could feel it. And you assumed you were in his, as well. It was like you were connected by some invisible conductor.

“I think that’s why my body is still tingling. It’s like it’s connecting with yours. Do you feel that?”

“Yes,” Five said quietly. “I can feel it.”

You looked at each other, not really knowing what to say next or what to do. Your consciousnesses were joined together and there were so many emotions swirling around in your brain that it was overwhelming. His, mixed with yours, created a confusing blend that made it hard to think.

“Can you read my thoughts?” Five asked.

You shook your head. “No, just your emotions. Why, can you read mine?”

“No. But it’s the same for me. I can feel everything you’re feeling.”

You were both silent for a minute as you tried to process everything that was passing between you.

“Well, this is fucking weird,” you finally said.

Five laughed. “That’s an understatement.”

You looked at him with a small smile, the connection between you seeming to deepen as you looked into his eyes, and you touched the side of his face with your hand.

“Thank you, Five.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For saving my life; for staying with me and helping me not lose my mind. For giving me several amazing orgasms.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome. But I’m not sure I can take credit for the last one. You gave me some pretty good instructions with that download.”

You laughed. “I don’t think that was it. I’m pretty sure your ego is the driving force behind that particular talent.”

He shrugged with a smirk and pulled you closer to him so he could kiss you. “Perhaps that was part of it.”

His lips were soft on yours, but there was something new there. Like an underlying current of electricity. But not the painful, white-hot electricity that coursed through your veins when Reginald had ahold of you. This was a warm, tingling feeling. Like a quiet hum through your body. It was comforting and you kissed him back deeply, trying to get more of that feeling.

“You felt that, too?” he breathed when you pulled away.

You nodded. “It’s like I feel closer to you. Like you’re a part of me.”

Five looked in your eyes again. “You are a part of me, there’s no denying that. But it’s not just because of whatever weird thing is happening here. It’s because you came to me at the last minute; when I had no more hope left in me. I was drained and empty inside. But you filled me up again; with your spirit and your kindness. And several amazing orgasms.” You laughed, even though you felt tears forming in your eyes. “So, thank you for giving me that. I’m sorry I couldn’t give us more time. I think we could have had something good together.”

“I think so, too,” you whispered.

You could feel his sincerity and his regret that you had run out of time. And there was something else there, but you pushed it away because it was too painful to think about.

“I’m so tired. I just want to lie here with you. Is that ok?”

“Of course it is.”

You moved your bodies so that he was holding you to him from behind again. You breathed out a long, contented sigh and pulled his arms tighter around you. Even though you were exhausted you laid awake for a few minutes.

“Are you scared?” you whispered.

Instead of an answer, you felt a wave of fear wash over you before it dissipated again. It had been from Five. You didn’t say anything, just pressed your body closer to his as a comfort to you both.

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” you asked hesitantly.

“I’m not sure. My brother says there is. I’m not entirely convinced, though.”

“I feel the same way.” You paused. “I guess we’ll find out, huh?”

“I guess we will.”

“If there is, do you want to meet up sometime? Like a date?”

You were joking, of course; trying to lighten the mood. But you felt Five bury his face in your hair and he kissed your shoulder.

“If there is an afterlife, I’ll find you. I promise you I will.”

There was nothing more to say, so you closed your eyes and drifted off; your body and mind weak and tired from Reginald’s earlier torture.

***********************************************

The deafening sound woke you with a start. The room around you was blazing bright and you could feel the waves of heat pulsing in the air. The walls were shaking and the pictures that had been hanging there crashed to the ground. The lamp on the nearby table smashed into pieces as it fell onto the floor. But it was the sound that was terrifying. It was like a train heading straight for you at top speed, the noise growing louder with each second. You let out a cry of fear and you felt Five hug you closer to him.

“It’s ok, I’m here,” he said calmly next to your ear.

You turned around so that you were facing him, keeping your body flush with his as you held on to each other. You started crying again and Five brushed away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“It’s happening. This is it, we’re going to die,” you choked out.

You had hoped to be braver in these last moments of life, but the truth was you were terrified and you couldn’t hide it.  But Five appeared calm and the energy that you were picking up from him was peaceful and you welcomed it in, letting it flood your insides. It helped and you stopped crying. The noise was growing louder and the walls around you started to crumble, the glass in the window breaking into a million shards as it exploded all around you. You clutched onto each other even tighter, ignoring the tiny lacerations forming on your bodies, the blood painting your skin with pin prick dots of red.

“Just remember, I will find you. No matter what.”

Five spoke softly in your ear so that you could hear him over the roar of the fast-approaching fireball. With only a few seconds left, you opened your mind up fully, letting all of Five’s deep feelings wash over you. And you felt it. The one emotion you had been determined to push away. But you let it in, because there was no point in holding back now.

It was love. His love for you flowed into you and it was so strong that it momentarily blocked out the raging heat of the dying universe as it closed in on you. You held a hand on his cheek and gave him one last kiss. He could feel everything you were feeling, too. You had made sure he could. But he needed to hear you say it. He deserved to hear it from someone once in his life, even if it was the very end. Your eyes closed and you focused on his body and his breath and his heartbeat next to yours; making sure he heard you before the darkness came.

“I love you, Five.”

***********************************************

Epilogue

It was a Saturday afternoon, the fall air crisp outside and the sun shining low and into the tinted windows of the coffee shop. You sat in your usual spot, hunched over your book, idly sipping at your tea. This is where you spent most of your down time these days. The same coffee shop, the same table by the window if it was unoccupied, the same drink order. Your friends thought there was something wrong with you. They were probably right. But you’d been pulling away from them for the last few months anyway, so they had pretty much stopped asking if you were ok.

It had been this way for a year now. You weren’t sure why; there was no logical explanation you could come up with. You’d initially thought it had to do with entering your thirties and maybe it was a little bit of an early mid-life crisis. But then it stayed, enveloping you like a heavy blanket that you couldn’t shake from your shoulders.

One morning you had woken up like usual and something felt wrong. You tried to put your finger on it, tried to look back into your memory for something you must have forgotten. It was like that feeling you get when you walk into a room but forget the reason why you came there in the first place. Usually if you stand there long enough, it will come to you. This time, it never did.

And so, you went on with life; going to work, meeting up with friends, visiting your parents. Nothing had changed, it was all the same. Except it wasn’t. And you didn’t know how to explain it. There was just something…missing.

You started to decline invitations to parties or to dinners with your girlfriends. A couple times you had been asked out on dates by fairly good-looking men, but you lied and said you were in a relationship. You had lost the desire to interact with people. Even people you cared about. Instead, you found yourself in this same coffee shop, wiling away the hours, and trying to figure out what the hell happened to your life.

Something had happened to your powers, too. You no longer needed to concentrate so hard to read people’s emotions. The golden strands that would normally serve as a bridge from your mind to another were gone. It was concerning at first, when you accidentally gained access to the barista’s consciousness and was hit by a wall of boredom and mild depression. She hadn’t felt a thing, apparently. She just handed you your tea with a professional smile and moved on to the next person.

Even though it went against your moral code, you found yourself using your powers more often. Mostly just for something to do while you sat there, looking out the windows onto the busy city sidewalk. Anger. Doubt. Love. Anxiety. Happiness. Regret. Hope. Sadness.   They all spread through you in a whirl as the passersby went about their day, having no idea they were just cracked open by a girl innocently sipping a mug of green tea. You liked feeling everything they were feeling in those brief seconds. It felt less alone. Less empty.

Your downloads didn't require nearly as much time or concentration, either. And despite knowing that it was wrong, it was fun to surprise strangers with random bits of information as they entered your personal space. The subway was particularly easy, and you liked to watch the reactions of the other commuters when a new fact suddenly jumped into their brain. There was no longer a golden orb and the information was downloaded quickly and precisely from your mind to theirs. It was even more fun to give them incorrect information. Although, you still felt guilty about making one man get off at the incorrect stop just because you wanted to see if you could do it.

You glanced up at the window like you normally did, already bored with your book. You watched as men and women walked by; most of them at a much more leisurely pace since it was the weekend. When you saw him walking towards you, you didn’t think much of it at first. It took a few seconds before your brain caught up to your eyeballs. But then it hit you like a fucking brick.

Grasping the edge of the table with both hands, you squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your teeth as the images flooded through you. They came at you so fast, it was like one of those books that makes moving animation when you flip through the pages super-fast. But you could still see everything; you could still register what was happening. It was all there. The hotel, the wedding, the giant orange fireball outside, your fear and helplessness. And Five. His face and his body, the way his hands felt on your skin and in your hair, the sound of his voice as he whispered in your ear. How safe you had felt when he held onto you even at the last moment.

When the images suddenly stopped flashing through your brain, your eyes flew open and you sucked in a loud, gasping breath. The people around you turned and you heard one woman ask if you were ok. But you didn’t answer. You were too busy looking out the window, frantically searching for his now familiar face. But he was gone again.

Jumping up, knocking your tea over onto your book, you grabbed your purse and ran out of the cafe. You started hurrying through the crowds of people, ignoring their grumbles and curses as you pushed past them. You couldn’t see him anywhere. How was that possible? He had just been there, walking in this very direction. You had only seen him briefly before the images poured into your brain, but you knew it was him. Slightly older and with no three-piece suit, he had still been wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, his head angled down at the ground as he had walked with purpose, his dark hair falling over one eye.

That panicky feeling started to rise up in you again as you increased your pace, jogging in front of and around people, your eyes searching everywhere around you. So, that when you collided directly into another person, you let out a loud “oof” as you were pushed back a couple steps by the impact. You didn’t fall, but you lost your footing a little until a hand reached out and grabbed your arm, steadying you. In an instant, your body was filled with a warm, tingling sensation and you looked up.

When you locked eyes, you were both startled and you stood there staring at each other in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing people to walk around you. Finally, he spoke.

“It’s you.”

You nodded slowly, your voice trembling. “I remembered. When I saw you, I remembered everything.”

“I was just walking and then it hit me after I passed that coffee shop. And I remembered you. I don’t know how I didn’t remember before…but I knew I had to go back. For months something has felt wrong…it was always like-“

“Like something was missing?”

Five smiled. “Exactly. It was you. I was missing you.”

“Our connection with my powers. I don’t think it ever left. We just needed to meet again for everything to fit back into place.”

Five nodded as you both continued to breathe hard, staring at one another.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, even as he was already pulling you closer.

“I think you better,” you answered with a smile.

It didn’t matter that you were blocking the sidewalk in the middle of the day, or that angry citizens were shoving past you and telling you to get a room. As soon as Five kissed you, another flood of memories came back. Only this time, it was that same soft electrical feeling through your body. That quiet hum of energy. And you could feel everything he was feeling again. Relief, desire, and love.

When you managed to pull away from each other, you still held on, your arms encircling his shoulders and his hands on your waist. He leaned down and placed his forehead against yours.

“You promised you would find me. And you did.”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he said softly as he closed his eyes and kissed you again.

“Five? Does this mean this is actually the afterlife? That we’ve been dead the whole time?”

Five looked around and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. This is real life. But it must be an alternate dimension or timeline, it’s hard to say. It looks like when the universe exploded, it created a new one in its place. Like a backup.”

“So…we get to just go about living our lives?”

“Looks that way. But now we can do that together. Assuming, of course, that’s what you want.”

You brushed a strand of hair off his face and smiled up at him. “I want nothing more.”

Five pulled you in tighter for one more kiss before taking your hand and walking over to the side, out of everyone’s way.

“I suppose we should start getting to know one another a little better. Outside of the bedroom, anyway. I feel pretty confident I know you well enough in that regard,” he joked as he rubbed his thumb over the inside of your wrist.

You raised one eyebrow. “I don’t know, I may have some super secret kink that I never showed you.”

He pushed you gently against the building you were standing in front of and held your face in his hand.

“Sweetheart, I would love to learn every kinky, sexually depraved thing about you. And I intend to indulge in all of them. But right now, how about we go back to that café you were in and we talk over coffee. You know, like normal people that don’t have the end of the world breathing down their neck.”

“I’d like that. Oh, but I actually only drink tea. I’m not a coffee person.”

The horrified look Five gave you made you laugh out loud, it was so overdramatic.

“What?”

Five shook his head in disappointment. “It’s a damn good thing I already know how good you are in the sack, otherwise this date may have ended before it began.”

As you giggled and kissed his frowny face, you sighed happily.

“I love you, Five.”

“I love hearing that again. And I love you, too.”

Link to my Master List

[plutoccult]

THE WAY THINGS GO

pairing: jean kirstein x female reader

description: when your best friend jean finally got the girl of his dreams, your friendship soon faded into oblivion. as you reflect on what could’ve been, you figured it’s just the way things go.

word count: 2.1k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: fear not, people, i have returned to writing for my man. i believe the last thing i wrote for jean was my love mine all mine, and i’m sorry for neglecting him for so long! i didn’t want my account to just be a jean account and really wanted to be able to have people come to my blog for other characters, so i hyper focused on literally anyone else but him for AWHILE. but now i’m back for my man. also trying something i’ve seen other blogs do and have a couple songs that fit the one shot linked below, so if you enjoy that, please tell me because i would love to keep it going! and big thanks to @intorder for beta reading. love you twin 🫶

soundtrack: the way things go, promise

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @femme-lune @jeanboyjean @cowgirlikets @okkoiktoru @todorokiskitten

taglist form here

all you ever wanted was for jean to be happy. even when it destroyed you inside as you aided him in his quest to woo mikasa ackerman, you figured that if it made him happy, then that’s all that should matter.

there was no point in dwelling about your pathetic feelings, he only ever saw you as a friend for all these years. you’d rather be friends than not be in his life at all, but when jean finally succeeded in his years long mission for the girl of his dreams, you didn’t think it would mean your friendship would fade with time. it hurt to simply just be friends, but it hurt even worse when it all turned into being nothing.

you found yourself pulling away from your mutual friends as a result, which hurt just as much as losing your best friend. you knew they would stick with him before they’d ever stick with you. they’d known him longer, after all. you felt as if you had to completely reinvent your life in the wake of jean’s absence. as much as you told yourself that change was okay and that you were happy with it, you continued to be haunted by the what if’s and what could’ve been.

there were always times where you thought about telling jean the truth before he finally landed a girlfriend, but the thought of rejection and losing him as a result plagued you to the very core. turns out there was no need to worry as he disappeared from your life anyway. sometimes you wondered if he ever thought about you. you knew you thought about jean plenty, but you had always placed him on the highest pedestal in the past.

his name felt foreign on your tongue now. whenever one of your friends brought jean up these days, you couldn’t find yourself able to say his name. you couldn’t even remember how to pronounce his last name. maybe it wouldn’t be this way had he thrown your friendship away, you liked to think.

you loved the scenario of jean showing up at your door one day and apologizing for everything, but that was merely a silly hope in your brain for a while. as the time spent without him in your life grew larger, you thought about such a preposterous idea less and less. with time, jean began to feel like a distant memory, and the pain hurt a little less.

your life became easier when you didn’t think about him. you found it funny how much lighter you felt when you didn’t feel the weight of unrequited love on your shoulders. you used to think of it as the size of a chip, but when you came to your senses, you realized you had been carrying a boulder. god knows how you managed to do it for so long.

it felt weird trying to pursue other men. you were thankful to have supportive friends who wanted the best for you, but didn’t want to push you too much if you weren’t ready for anything. regardless of that, you knew the only way you could be remotely ready is if you dove in head first. if you dipped your toes in the pool, you knew you’d shy away and run off. diving straight underwater felt easier.

even if you gave the dating scene a try, it wasn’t perfect, but at least you were living your life without the shackles of your feelings for jean chained to your ankles. besides, you had new stories to laugh about with your friends rather than you down in the dumps during your times with your girl friends. you were unrecognizable now, inside and out.

walking past certain places didn’t phase you like they used to. although, you find it funny now when you look back on how much strength it took for you to return to your favorite coffee shop. after depriving yourself of it for so long, you almost forgot how delicious it tasted, so at least there was that to be thankful for.

despite all the progress you’ve made, it turned out to be as easy as flicking a light switch to feel like your old self sometimes. from certain songs to inside jokes only you’d understand, it was quick for all those memories to come rushing back. but those reminders only helped you remember why you were in the position you were now.

however, one night on your way to the bus stop, you froze when you saw what looked like a familiar figure across the road. you stared at him for what felt like forever to figure out if it was exactly who you were thinking of, but when he walked across the crosswalk, it turned out to just be a random person. you were thankful it wasn’t actually jean. you wouldn’t know what to say to him after all this time anyway.

you quickly shook it off before continuing your walk. you wouldn’t let a stranger who happened to slightly resemble jean bother you that much. it would be silly after all this time. he shouldn’t matter to you anymore.

you sat down on the bench waiting for your bus to arrive. the wait felt like torture this time for some reason, and you couldn’t figure out why. it was the same bus stop you always waited at, around the same time each day you got off work, so why did this new feeling brew up inside of you?

“y/n?” oh. there’s why.

“jean.” you manage to speak, a lump you can’t seem to swallow forming in your throat.

there he stood. he looked just the same as when you last saw him. it wasn’t a surprise he kept up with the mullet look after all this time. it was your idea, actually. you told him girls liked it more when guys had hair that wasn’t too short or too long, just long enough to run their fingers through. it was a miracle he listened, really. you didn’t think the hairstyle change could make him look any more heavenly, but it did that times a million.

you find yourself unable to say anything else. do you ask how he is? is he still with mikasa? any wild changes in his life? there was so much you could say, but so much you couldn’t. there was no right way to go about it.

“it’s been a while, huh?” jean questioned, forcing a chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. six months, three weeks, and five days, to be exact. you were so close to reaching that seven month mark. curse him for popping back up like this.

“indeed.” you reply as you look away. if you looked into his eyes for even a second, you swore you’d fold over. why did you still feel like this after all this time?

“how are you?” he asked. jean noticed you were avoiding his gaze. he knew it was his fault things were this way. “i won’t bite or anything, you know. horse bites hurt worse than stepping on a lego.”

you can’t help but laugh. curse him. that was funny, you have to give him that. you look up and see jean smiling, unbeknownst to you from the sound of your giggles. maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to have a quick catch up before your bus arrives.

“doing pretty good.” you say, shockingly not a total lie. past you would’ve said you were fine while screaming your head off on the inside. now, it was mostly calm and quiet in your mind.

“how’s mikasa?” you ask him. even if you felt good on the inside, you couldn’t help but address the elephant in the room. you had to know. otherwise, you’d still wonder from time to time.

“oh, um…” jean stumbled over his words. you raise an eyebrow. “we broke up. she kinda… dumped me.”

oh. dare you say victory? no, no. that was wrong. you can’t find the slightest bit of joy in this. you did want jean to be happy, even when it used to turn you inside out over and over. but back then you always had that borderline sinister part of you that wished he’d fumble. now it seemed like he did, but you had to know why.

“why’s that?” you question. “i thought it would’ve finally worked out.”

“i was pretty much just a placeholder.” he shrugged. “she didn’t really like, like me.”

you knew exactly what he meant. “eren?”

“yeah.” jean let out a sigh.

it was no secret mikasa was practically obsessed with eren since they were kids. everyone that knew her long enough thought she had grown out of it, especially since she got with jean, but now you know that wasn’t the case. she was simply waiting for eren to come to his senses.

you always waited for jean to come to his senses, but is that wait even worth it? is it worth finally getting what you want in the end despite all that turmoil? you wonder if mikasa finally felt that satisfaction you used to crave, or did she end up feeling a little dead inside after all that waiting? you realize now it’s not worth waiting for someone to realize you’re worth loving despite being there right in front of them for so long. you knew better now.

“well, i guess that’s just the way things go.” you look away. life had its way of being a comedian, you thought, but that’s okay. everything seems to happen for a reason.

“yeah, guess so.” jean frowned. seeing you now, he had finally come to his senses, but he was far too late. now jean would be willing to just be your friend again if it meant you were simply there. funny how things change.

“well.” you shrug, looking away as you spotted your bus down the road at a stoplight. just one more minute, you hoped. “my bus is about to show up.”

as the engine of your bus roared towards your stop, jean desperately tried to get one last word out of you while you were collecting your things. “wait!”

“hm?” you sling your bag over your shoulder. you weren’t sure what he could possibly say, but you hoped it was a goodbye. who knows if you’ll ever see jean again? as harsh as it seemed, you didn’t know if you wanted this to reoccur, if you were being completely honest.

“i just…” he paused. “maybe we could grab some coffee—”

“no.” you interrupt him. past you would have never cut him off like this, but you were that girl anymore. you felt pretty satisfied now, no more what if’s haunting you. this felt like good closure to your former self, a person you never ever wanted to revisit. you hated who you were back then.

“it’s a really bad idea if we do that.” you say as jean couldn’t seem to find any words to say right away after you shut him down with a no so quickly.

“yeah, i get it.” jean sighed. he knew he had countless chances, all run dry a long time ago.

finally, your bus was here. there was nothing else to say other than goodbye now. you didn’t feel any regrets anymore. if this were the last time you ever saw jean, you didn’t think you’d be all to upset about it. even if you never truly confessed to jean how you used to feel, there was no point now. you didn’t need to. besides, you assumed someone had to have told him anyway. you guessed that’s the only reason why he tried asking you out for coffee, knowing how much you liked him. it was a good thing you didn’t feel the same anymore.

“bye, jean.” you say before stepping onto the bus. “it was nice catching up.”

“ditto.” he forced a smile. jean waved you goodbye, you waving through the window by your seat.

as much as it would be nice to try a friendship with jean again, you didn’t want to risk falling back into your old habits. you liked who you were now, and you don’t think jean fit that picture. if there were ever room for him, maybe you could try, but for now you were saying no.

you realize now that your world didn’t end the day jean faded out of your life, just like your world didn’t end the day you got an f on a test, or even the day your favorite band member left the group. it all seemed like the end-all, be-all back then, but now you know it was just the ways things go.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[sundrop-writes]

When Doves Cry

Jason Todd x Gar Logan

How can you just leave me standing - alone in a world that’s so cold?  So cold.  Why do we scream at each other?  This is what it sounds like: When Doves Cry.

This fic is dedicated to a husband who has never given up on me. 

Love is infinite, patient, and always welcomes you home.

Summary:

At Dick's insistence, Jason comes back to Wayne Manor to help the Titans end Crane's deadly plan. Jason doesn't want redemption or forgiveness - he's done believing that he's worthy of those. Once Crane is back at Arkham where he belongs, Jason plans to disappear, never to be heard from again.

But Gar - someone who never stopped loving Jason and never stopped believing in his goodness - has other plans.

Jason Todd x Gar Logan. Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 13.

Word Count: 11,100

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is a character x character fic - no reader character here; this is M/M; emotional angst - Jason's self deprecating inner monologue; Jason being emotionally constipated; mentions of Jason's past trauma - including being kidnapped by Deathstroke, and his canon suicide attempt; canon level violence (mentions of guns/gun violence, mentions of killing/mentions of Jason killing people); mentions of Jason's death and resurrection; mentions of Gar mourning Jason's death; mentions of Gar's canon trauma - being forced to murder people while under Cadmus' mind control, having brain surgery performed on him to achieve that mind control; implications of Dick/Hank/Dawn being in a poly relationship because I literally cannot help myself; mentions of Jason being injured from the confrontation that goes down at Wayne Manor in 3x13 (which is canon) - the injuries are vaguely described as 'bumps and bruises'; mentions of Jason's substance abuse - including the Anti-Fear Gas (which yes, even though it's fictional, is still substance abuse), alcohol, and implications toward other unnamed drugs; there is mentions of Jason/Rose - but in this version of things, their interactions were one single kiss and Jason never had any true feelings for her; because of his attraction to Rose - Jason is very much bisexual in this, and though it's not mentioned that Gar has been with a woman (or anyone aside from Jason lmao) - I always headcanon him as bi and write him as bi just so you know; mentions of Gar and Jason having a previous sexual relationship during their time living together at Titans Tower (but that relationship was purely sexual and not romantic); implications that The Pit changed Jason's body somewhat, including making his dick bigger; smut - M/M smut; biting/marking kink (from Gar toward Jason) - at one point, Gar bites down hard enough to draw blood; wet ?? humping/grinding; mentions of Jason and Gar masturbating; passing mention of sex toys (a dildo); anal sex with lots of (real!!!) lube; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom (but there is no mention of STDs and technically they are monogamous even if they didn't discuss it, but irl you should always use one!! don't be like them); Jason bottoming while Gar tops; scent kink - Gar and Jason both really like the way that the other person smells; Jason is a power bottom at first and then becomes more submissive; Gar is very possessive/animalistic during sex; some dirty talk; emotional/passionate sex; creampie kink - Gar cums inside of Jason and they both really like it; a warning for literally licking wounds - Gar licks a cut on Jason's forehead that he has from the fight (this IS NOT blood kink - it's about him caring for Jason because his animal instincts are telling him licking the wound will make it better/soothe it) (btw I am not shaming those with a blood kink, I have written blood kink before and I love it - I just wanted to clarify the tone of the moment); this fic does have a happy ending if that makes you more motivated to read it. I believe that is actually, finally it.

A/N: In case it's not already clearly labelled - there is no reader character in this fic! It is very different from what I usually write, but I felt very inspired and the request that @nctzenkane gave me was just too good not to write. Jason and Gar have so much chemistry in the show, they are such an obvious ship, and they never even got to say goodbye to each other. (The writers make it so convenient that Gar is just not in the room during Jason's pivotal moments - sigh.) Anyway - I love JayGar as a ship and I feel like this fic sums up everything I love about them, as well as giving them the ending they should have gotten. They should have ended up together and Jason should have gotten forgiveness from the Titans family. I hope you guys enjoy this fic even though it's not like my typical stuff, and if you sit this one out - please know that this one did wonders for my creative flow as a writer, and I will be back with more amazing things later. Also, I know that this fic is gonna make my Top Ten Favourite Fics of the year when I make that list for 2024. I was not at all expecting to write this fic but I absolutely love it so much omg. Also - even though I started my taglist a little while ago, I decided not to use the taglist for this particular fic because it's so different from my usual stuff. But the taglist will be used for all upcoming fics.

...

“I have to believe that this dude we fought alongside - my friend - he’s not all bad.” 

Gar purposefully put emphasis on those two words, trying his hardest to remind Dick of what Jason was to them. At least, what he should be. A friend. Even if Dick wanted to deny it, Jason had been a Titan once. He had been part of their family. Even if Gar was the only one who still remembered that; even if he was the only one who still remembered Jason’s good side. Even if Gar was the only one who had ever truly loved him - the others needed to remember what being a part of that family meant, and what their obligations were to Jason because of it. 

No matter what Dick claimed, Jason hadn’t turned into some evil villain overnight. He had his own reasons for what he was doing, and that meant he could be reasoned with. (Gar knew that it was difficult to reason with Jason - but he knew it could be done.) 

Dick’s silence was deafening. Maybe he didn’t want to tell his tender-hearted friend what he really thought of Jason now; those tiny streaks of things that he had been secretly thinking for a long time. Or perhaps - Gar was really getting through to him. 

Jason needed to come home. Despite what everyone else believed: he could be saved. 

… 

All of it was Dick’s idea. Gar still wasn’t even entirely clear on half of it, but the bulk of it involved using his newly acquired - still very undeveloped - ability of turning into a bat so that he could fly up to Jason’s unlocked bedroom window and breach the house’s security system undetected. 

No matter how much Gar stressed the fact that he can’t fly, Dick kept telling that it would be okay - that he just had to believe in himself, blah blah. The typical leader speech jargon that he used to convince people to do dangerous things. Gar felt like he shouldn’t have been so easily convinced, but he knew that a lot was on the line - he knew that Crane needed to be stopped. So he put aside sense and transformed, and flew off toward the window even though he barely knew how to control himself in this state. 

He was so damn dizzy when he landed. He could taste vomit swelling up inside his mouth and he forcefully pushed it back down. The world was spinning around him in an utterly cruel way and he could barely comprehend anything - he was naked and he needed clothes, so grabbing Jason’s shirt off the floor was nothing but pure instinct. The smell of Jason’s stupid strong cologne - so entrenched in the bedroom’s walls, mixed with the natural musk of sweat in the bedsheets - it should have made Gar even more dizzy and nauseous, but instead, it grounded him. It made him feel safe. 

Dig, if you will, the picture of you and I engaged in a kiss. The sweat of your body covers me.  Can you, my darling - can you picture this?

It was one of the only things that gave him a true, firm center while the world was spinning so damn hard, still undulating under his hands and knees while he dug his fingers into the expensive carpet, gritting his teeth with how much he absolutely hated the sensation. 

Gar and Jason have always been the same size. 

It was something they found out days into living together at Titans Tower, when Jason got out of bed and put on one of Gar’s favorite hoodies without a word. He never apologized for getting milk chocolate on it and letting it stain. From that point on, their wardrobe easily blended into one. Jason wore ‘nerd shirts’ with logos that he had no clue about the meaning behind, and Gar found himself wearing more black and more band tees with logos for bands that he couldn’t stand the loud, angry music of. 

After Dick had confessed everything that had happened with Jericho, Jason pulled away on the screeching tires of his motorcycle, and ended up taking some of Gar’s clothes with him. This left Gar with the pain of accidentally pulling something out of his drawer that still smelled like Jason - sleeping in sheets that definitely still reeked of that strong cologne. In fact, Gar had been wearing one of Jason’s black hoodies on the night that Cadmus had stormed the Tower - on the night his life had forever changed. 

In the present, when Gar left Jason’s room dressed head to toe in Jason’s clothes, it felt natural. It felt natural to be surrounded by that scent. It gave a certain kind of unconscious comfort to his overwhelmed instincts during such a chaotic time. It wasn’t even something he had put that much thought into. Instead, he was far more focused on using the remote Dick had instructed him to grab in order to disarm the alarm system - a task he was incredibly worried about getting right. 

With Dick in his ear giving him instructions to defuse the alarm, even with the terrible itch of anxiety creeping down his neck - he felt a certain sense of safety from being wrapped in Jason’s clothes. Even when the sound of gunfire came from down the hall - something that nearly paralyzed him with fear, part of him still foolishly felt bulletproof because of that familiar shirt on his back. 

When he rounded the corner, the first thing that truly made him freeze up during all of this was actually seeing Jason for the first time in so long. 

It was a true shock to his system. 

After all the talk of Jason - a death that he barely had time to mourn, so heavy in his heart and barely processed by his mind. After finding out that the person behind Red Hood’s mask had once been his best friend, somehow stolen from the morgue and woken up from what should have been a permanent sleep due to the treacherous waters of the Lazarus Pit. After spending all that time talking Dick’s ear off, trying to convince him to let Jason come home, where he truly belonged; after feeling so damn fruitless in doing so. After tracking down Molly, trying to stand united with one of Jason’s last true friends in an effort not to see him hurt. 

After all of that, everything Gar had been through over the past few weeks, actually seeing Jason in front of him - it was like having ice water poured down his back. 

He froze up standing there, and he knew that the expression on his face must have been that of dumbstruck delirium. 

He hadn’t expected their reunion to be anything like this. 

When Jason had first stormed out of Titans Tower, Gar had imagined that he would come back. Even after he had screamed at the top of his lungs, telling Dick to fuck off, and followed that up by screaming at Rose not to touch him when she had tried to grab his arm in some poor attempt at ‘comfort’, daring anybody else not to follow him - Gar had thought that it would be only a matter of hours before Jason came back. 

At the time, he had texted Jason after everyone else scrambled out like cockroaches fleeing from the light, and he had told Jason that it was safe to come back because they would be alone together (save for Conner’s unconscious body). He had expected that statement alone would cause Jason to eagerly come running back. 

He thought that it would be a predictable reunion. 

Jason would come back puffy-eyed and stinking of booze, stumbling, furiously denying that he had even been upset, saying that he would never let Dick Grayson get under his skin. Slurring his words while also denying that he had been drinking and driving his bike - because he didn’t want Gar to ‘narc’ on him about it. 

Gar would put him in the shower and douse him in cold water to sober him up while trying not to scold him about the potential of crashing the stupid speeding death machine due to being drunk. They would go to bed together and Jason would fall asleep holding onto him for dear life. And he would still make Jason the best hangover breakfast that vegan soy substitutes can offer (and Jason would complain about Gar not cooking with ‘real’ bacon, but he would still clean his plate). And Jason would sneak a kiss over the sudsy dish water that would turn into soapy grab-ass, and he would have wanted to fuck Gar across the kitchen counter just because nobody else was around to complain about it. 

(Maybe that last part was just a fantasy Gar cooked up with his hand on his cock in his bed at the Tower when he was missing Jason a bit too much. But still, it felt like something Jason would do.) 

When the days passed and Jason still hadn’t responded to him - still hadn’t come home, Gar tried to deny that he missed the mouthy asshole. He tried to weed those shirts out of his laundry so that he could stop being constantly reminded of Jason. He tried to keep his crying limited to the shower, or muffled into his pillow at night. 

And then, he didn’t have to worry as much about that stuff, because he got distracted and busy when Conner woke up. Introducing the clone to the world, teaching him to be a Titan. 

When he got his brain scrambled, between the taste of blood in his mouth and the distant sound of a done drill - memories of Jason flickered in front of him, and when he was present enough in reality, he knew that Jason running far away was a good thing. It meant that Gar couldn’t hurt someone like him. Someone he loved who didn’t have any meta powers to defend himself - someone who was only flesh and bone with no way to defend against a six hundred pound uncontrollable tiger pouncing on him. 

There were moments of mental clarity, tiny little moments when Mercy wasn’t humming in his ear. Moment when he prayed that he would never see Jason again - because he never wanted the blood in his mouth to belong to Jason. 

After Rachel helped him gain back control, he still wondered if he was capable of hurting Jason, even by mistake. He was almost glad when Jason rode away from Donna’s funeral in the opposite direction. (Almost.) Because that feeling of missing him came back harder than ever days after the funeral, when the dust had settled. When he realized that he was fully in control of his powers - working well as a Titan, and the only thing missing from the picture in his mind was having Robin right there by his side, working as the perfect duo Jason always knew they could be. 

When Gar found out about Jason’s death, he felt numb. It had never felt real. Sure, denial is the first stage of grief - but Gar never truly felt like he was living on the same earth where Jason was not. He felt like the world should have stopped. Or at the very least - he should have gone down with Jason. 

He kept imagining that someone would wake him up from the nightmare - that someone would shake him and he would wake up in his bed months earlier, with Conner still in a coma, only to find out that everything that had happened at Cadmus had been one big horrible dream. He would open his eyes to find out that Jason was still alive, waiting to sneak out and get veggie burgers with him at three in the morning. 

But no. There was a grave in the backyard of Wayne Manor with his name on it - even if Gar had seen it empty after Dick had dug it up in a manic state. Just to make himself feel like he wasn’t totally crazy, Gar had searched through Bruce’s files and found Jason’s morgue paperwork, wanting to fully confirm that Jason had even died in the first place. After seeing the attached photos of Jason’s bashed-in skull caused him to lose his lunch, he knew then that it was very much real. It wasn’t just a horrific dream. 

Jason had died and somehow been brought back from that. 

Even then, Gar imagined their reunion to be very different from this. 

But here he was - standing in one of the many hallways of Wayne Manor, staring Jason down like a deer in headlights, his heart pounding while his wide eyes fixated on the person he thought that he would never get to see again. Someone covered in bumps and bruises from a fight, looking much more worn down by the world than the guy who used to laugh at Gar’s shitty puns. 

Dream, if you can, a courtyard- An ocean of violets in bloom. Animals strike curious poses. They feel the heat - the heat between me and you.

Jason’s eyes flickered down and locked on Gar’s chest, or rather - fixated on his shirt. Jason’s shirt that Gar was wearing. In a moment, he felt more naked than he ever did when he stripped down in public to transform. He felt so fucking caught. Of course Jason knew that Gar was wearing his clothes. Gar could have claimed that it was out of pure convenience, but somehow, as if he was part animal himself - Jason’s pupils dilated and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. It was almost like he could smell the fatal yearning coming off Gar, everything about him that said: ‘I love you, I missed you, I need you’. 

“Jason-” Gar croaked out. 

There was no chance for conversation. 

A streak of movement behind Jason’s heavily armored shoulder realigned Gar’s priorities in a snap. 

“Look out!” He shouted, pointing sharply behind Jason before he ducked for cover himself. 

Jason didn’t hesitate - he fired his gun, taking the enemy out. He did a visual check of the hallway to make sure that nobody else was coming before he turned back to Gar - who was crouching tightly against one of the divots in the complex design of the old house. 

“I’m here for you.” Jason said - finding that he felt far too naked in his own way with how utterly vulnerable this sounded. 

Especially when Gar’s lips quivered, almost as if desperate to cry out for him, to thank him for coming home - something. 

“I’m here to help. Dick sent me.” He quickly amended, attempting to clarify that this was all business. 

Even though, with Gar’s large, glassy eyes staring him down - he couldn’t be sure that’s what it was. 

He didn’t have too much time to grind through the details of it, though. They had to get through the business aspects of it or there wouldn’t be any personal details left to untangle because they would all be dead. 

They split off, following a plan that Dick had carefully laid out, and Gar was proud when Tim and Dick led Crane out of the Batcave in shackles. 

With the relief of knowing that they had won, Gar quickly set about finding Jason once again - to thank him, to ask him what their next move was, to kiss him - he wasn’t quite sure yet. But he felt gleeful. 

All that glee was slashed when he caught Jason in his old bedroom, packing a bag. 

He had stripped out of his Red Hood armor from the waist-up, and Gar was met with the shocking sight of bright purple welts smothered across the broad of his back. It made Gar’s natural urge toward sympathy ache, especially when it came to Jason. But that feeling conflicted with nothing but boiling anger at the sight of him furiously stuffing things into a duffle bag he had placed into the middle of his bed - clearly trying to rescue everything he could from his old life on the way out. 

How can you just leave me standing alone in a world that’s so cold? So cold.

He was running away. Again. 

“Going somewhere?” Gar asked, trying to sound tough when his voice was trembling at the very thought of Jason leaving him again. 

If he was less mature, he would have dropped to the floor and thrown a catastrophic toddler fit, flailing his limbs and screaming at the top of his lungs. He would have demanded that Jason stay, telling him that he simply wasn’t allowed to leave. 

He knew that it was selfish, but it just made Gar feel so disposable. The fact that Jason came into his life, made him laugh, made him smile, fucked him like they were in love, made him care - and then he wanted to run away like Gar meant nothing to him. He knew that Jason had his own issues - a list of problems and past traumas longer than his arm, but Gar would have run away with him. Jason didn’t have to be sentenced to solitude. 

All these thoughts caused a sheen of tears to form in Gar’s eyes - the sadness battling with the anger inside his chest. He was threatening to spill those tears by the time Jason whipped around - partially startled, partially angry that his plans to disappear again had been disrupted. 

Jason mirrored back his own wet eyes at seeing Gar so upset, but quickly blinked the tears away. 

“I was never here.” He quietly croaked. “I can’t-” 

“You can’t ‘what’?” Gar barked back, cutting him off. 

This was the most cruel way that he had ever spoken to Jason, but he was fed up, to say the least. All of the emotions that he had been politely festering with now boiled over. The grief, the mourning, the loneliness - all of it spilled over at once. 

“You can’t stay?” He asked, raising his voice in anger. “You can’t admit that someone actually cares about you for you for once in your fucking life?” 

Maybe I’m just too demanding. Maybe I’m just like my father - too bold.

Jason’s face quivered at this. 

He knew Gar cared about him. Of course he did. But that was why he had to run. He couldn’t let Gar risk his place with the Titans for a murderous piece of shit like himself. He threatened to break into sobs and he forced himself to become steel. Without Crane’s drugs running through his system, he felt even more weak and chaotic - but he couldn’t let Gar be the drop of water that broke his dam after all these weeks. 

“I can’t stay.” He said solemnly, his eyes glued to the floor, refusing to look at Gar. “I - I can’t… stay.” It hung in the air for the moment as the words truly sunk in for him. He had been so busy packing in order to flee that he hadn’t even fully realized why. Now it was even more painful. “They won’t let me.” 

The realization pierced through Gar’s heart like a knife. 

This wasn’t just about him. Of course it wasn’t. 

The thing that he had been fighting for, fighting against all this time - the idea that Jason wasn’t even worthy to come home because he was some crazed killer. Gar wasn’t the only one who got a vote. Gar wasn’t the only one to claim love for him or deny him. 

If Gar’s love for him was the only thing that mattered, then the whole thing could have been smoothed over weeks ago. Maybe Jason wouldn’t have left in the first place. Maybe Jason wouldn’t have been balanced on the edge of a roof about to jump off while Gar had been sleeping. 

Gar wheezed out a harsh breath - almost as if the pain of the realization had literally pierced his lung, and he was having difficulty breathing because of it. 

“Stay.” Gar begged, hardly realizing that he was crying openly now. “I’ll talk to Dick, I’ll-” 

Maybe you’re just like my mother: She’s never satisfied.

“I can’t.” Jason said bitterly, entirely defiant. “You know I can’t. Not after everything that’s happened. Especially not after Hank.” 

There was a careful kind of mourning in Jason’s voice when he said the name - and potently, he flipped back around then, unable to face Gar after bringing it up. He continued to pack his bag as Gar stared at his back, his throat tightening harshly around everything that he had to say in reply. 

Gar loved Hank as a friend - as a mentor, someone to look up to. But even now, he couldn’t fully blame Jason for Hank’s death. He knew that it was all a part of Crane’s plan. He knew that Jason was sorry. Before, that fact was something he had based solely on his knowledge of Jason - but now he could base it on Jason’s very clear guilt towards the situation. 

Gar knew that if he told Dick that he forgave Jason for Hank’s death - it would put them on bad terms. Dick had known Hank for longer. And there had been something more there (something more between Dawn, and Hank, and Dick). Something that made that scar extra tender for Dick. 

Gar had to find a better way to explain it. Perhaps tell the team that he had once been a pawn himself - he had been to Mercy Graves what Jason was to Crane. And he knew that if she put him alone in a room with Hank and told him to kill, he couldn’t have been sure that his sterling morals and his willpower alone would have held up against everything that she did to him. 

Why was the situation with Jason any different? 

Why were they so determined not to forgive him? 

Out of the corner of his eye, something broke up his contemplative thinking - Jason slipped a tee shirt over his head, and Gar couldn’t ignore the glaring shade of green that said it was one of his. It caused a possessive streak to roll through him - he had a difficult time holding back a feral growl as it flared up in his throat. 

It made him only able to focus on one thing. 

“What about before?” Gar croaked out, disappointment apparent in his voice. 

Jason looked over his shoulder with gentle confusion, and he felt the need to clarify. 

“What about everything that happened before Hank?” Gar rephrased the question. “Doesn’t that matter?” 

Why do we scream at each other?

Jason wanted to say - yes, of course it does. 

But it felt so much more complicated than that. 

“Gar-” He barely choked the name out before he was cut off. 

Gar couldn’t stand to hear more excuses - more reasons as to why Jason was going to cut and run. He reached a hand up to Jason’s neck and pulled him into a kiss before anything else could come spilling from his mouth. 

It felt like trying to desperately claw his way into the front door of a home he once knew - a house that was now cold and abandoned as Jason stood stalk still, purposefully not kissing him back. Jason wasn’t letting him in - not giving him a single sign that there was any love left there. That there had even been love here in the first place. 

Deep down, Jason was terrified. If he gave in and kissed Gar back - he would be done for. He would be opening himself up to a world of hurt that he once thought he could erase with doses of Anti-Fear Gas. 

Gar was used to playfulness; teeth nibbling on his lips, laughter in the air. He was used to a hand reaching for the tie on the front of his sweatpants while that cocky voice muttered lustful ‘threats’ against his mouth - something about how he was ‘going to get it’ - when in actuality, Jason was always the one who ended up a moaning mess on his cock. 

Tears spilled hotly from the corners of his eyes and a sobbed choked out from the back of his throat when Jason was completely still against him. He was being so coldly denied - Jason was like stone, fighting off everything he had missed most from Gar because he still felt like he had to run, and this was nothing more than a distraction from that. 

“Please.” Gar wept against his mouth. 

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but - Jason didn’t move. 

This is what it sounds like: When Doves Cry.

Gar pulled back harshly then. When his wet eyes fell to the Triforce printed in the middle of Jason’s chest, further signaling that it wasn’t his shirt (because he likely had no clue what the symbol meant or what it even was) - Gar felt a wave of rage overtake him. He gripped the hem of the green shirt and didn’t hesitate to yank it up over Jason’s head. Rather than the typical heat that this action would lead to, there was nothing but bitter tension in the air as Gar waved the ball-up fabric in front of Jason’s face. 

“This is mine.” He choked out, barely holding back a wave of sobs. “So - so if you’re leaving, you can’t take it with you. You can’t be that much of an asshole. You can’t just take everything that belongs to me.” 

Gar choked on his own words, holding back more. 

They both knew that the words held a dangerous double meaning. If he was going to run, he would be taking so much that belonged to Gar - so much more than some fabric that they had once blissfully shared. 

He would be ripping Gar’s heart out of his chest and taking it with him. 

Jason looked at him with tears now leaking from his eyes. Oceanic blue swimming in bloodshot red - not a pretty sight, by any means. He took in a heavy breath, but his stomach was visibly trembling where he was holding in his own sobs. 

He wanted Gar to tell him to stay. He didn’t want Gar to be okay with him leaving - he wanted it to be such a fight that he couldn’t just walk away. 

Touch if you will, my stomach.  Feel how it trembles inside.  You’ve got the butterflies all tied up.  Don’t make me chase you - even doves have pride. 

Gar - still feeling the need to comfort Jason, even stewing in all his anger toward this man he called lover, enemy, or friend - dropped the shirt on the floor and reached out, smoothing his hands over Jason’s hips. He leaned in and laid the most feather-light butterfly kisses across Jason’s shoulder, and Jason choked on another sob. 

Gar smoothed a hand over Jason’s stomach, and under the intense heat of Gar’s large palm - his muscles calmed. Any cries of anguish died off inside of him and he was able to gather enough breath to speak as Gar laid a gentle cheek on his shoulder. 

“You - you can’t do this.” Jason whispered, the weakest protest he could have come up with. 

Gar only hummed in response. This close to Jason, he could almost feel that thing inside Jason, yearning for him, crying out to him. 

He knew that Jason didn’t want to leave. He knew that if he was patient, Jason would crumble to the need as much as he was. 

He already felt as though he had won. 

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” Jason added on, his words slightly steadier now. He curled his fingers into the fabric of the shirt Gar was wearing - the one he had picked up off of Jason’s bedroom floor when he had landed. “This is mine.” 

Gar wanted to make some sarcastic jest about how he wasn’t planning on leaving while wearing it - but he became choked up at how the words sounded. As though Jason was truly claiming him - something he had been waiting to hear for so damn long. 

He lifted his head to ask if it was true - if Jason would stay for him or if they could flee together - but Jason caught the back of his neck and slammed their lips together, stealing any words that Gar was planning to speak. 

There was a certain fierceness that followed next - a battle of stubborn wills that was as stiff and tense as their words. 

Passion and love and anger are spears all lined up on the same fence, all equally sharpened - Gar was still angry with Jason for leaving in the first place and never coming back. He still blamed Jason for all those months of bitter loneliness that he had felt, for being left there in the Tower with no help when Cadmus had attacked. Deep in the back of his mind, there was a fantasy of the night they attacked - of Beast Boy and Robin operating as the perfect team to snub out evil. 

Jason was still mad at Gar for not chasing him, for not asking him to come home. Mad at him for not making more of an effort, for siding with Dick on seemingly everything. 

He had no clue how hard Gar had fought to bring him home. How much Gar’s voice had burrowed into the ears of the others, especially Dick, being the only remaining one to speak up, vouching for Jason’s good side. If he had been a fly on the wall, perhaps he would have bowed at Gar’s feet, thanking him. 

But instead - these lopsided views created a bitter stubbornness. Something that made the kiss feral and angry - gnashing teeth and hot, hard breaths as they grabbed and groped at each other, battling with their own anger and swelling up with that love they tried so hard to deny. 

Why bother staying so angry with someone if you didn’t care about them? Why take that much time and effort to be pissed off if you wouldn’t just forgive the person out of love at the end of the day? 

Jason ripped off Gar’s shirt - the borrowed shirt that only further reminded him of everything he had missed out on, the home he couldn’t come back to. He threw it to the floor, trying his best to forget about it - but this only made way for Gar’s hot skin underneath his own, forcing more temptation as they made more skin-on-skin contact. 

He let out a kind of wounded sound when Gar gripped the back of his head and swept down, his mouth tracing along Jason’s neck, digging his teeth in. He was still unsure if he was trying to claim Jason in that animalistic way and make it impossible for him to leave or if he was just taking that anger out on him, trying to cause a little bit of pain - trying to make Jason feel a fraction of what he had felt. Either way, his teeth were savage and frantic on Jason’s skin, and Jason’s nerves screamed pleasurably with the full effects of it. 

“Fuck,” Jason moaned out as Gar sunk his teeth in harder. “Fuck you.” 

Gar was about to make some clever reply - the typical ‘you should’ or ‘I’m trying to’. 

But he was caught off guard, silenced when Jason put a hand in the middle of his now bare chest and shoved him back toward the bed - causing him to sprawl beside the bag that Jason had been trying to steal away with. He poofed out across the luxurious, expensive mattress; there was a worrying second as he looked up at Jason when he believed that Jason might just pick up that bag and run. 

He could use this as his opportunity to flee. 

But instead, Jason eyed him up and down heavily - lustful eyes casting a thick gaze over Gar’s body. Looking over every inch of him carefully, from his now ruffled hair, down across his heaving chest, to the place where Jason’s borrowed pants were hanging low on his hips - the thickness of his hard cock very apparent between his thighs with no underwear on underneath them. 

Jason knew it was temptation. Fondness. 

At the time, perhaps he considered it ‘one last hurrah’. But in truth, it was the breaking point - the point of no return. The point at which Gar had truly hooked him in and reeled him back. Between those big, beautiful brown eyes staring up at him with a combination of intense affection and fear at the possibility of him leaving and that fat cock practically calling to him - Jason was done for. 

Jason reached for the button on his own pants, and Gar remained frozen for a moment. 

“Well,” Jason said impatiently. Gar still didn’t move, unsure what was expected of him in that moment. “Get your fuckin’ pants off. I know you’re not shy about stripping down, ya damn nudist.” 

Gar felt the tension leave his body with a stiff exhale. He wanted to make some smartass comment, but found himself lacking. Instead, he became distracted by rushing to get the pants off and watching the flexing of Jason’s muscles while he worked to get his own pants and boots off. 

All he could muster up was: 

“You - you’re an asshole,” Gar chuckled out, throwing Jason a genuine smile as he kicked the fabric off his ankles, leaving himself wonderfully bare in the middle of the bed. 

Gar’s eyes traced over Jason’s naked body - he seemed more thick and muscular than the last time Gar had seen him. Had he been training harder in the time that he’d been gone? Though his overall build was still much the same - matching Gar in stature, though Gar’s muscles were leaner and softer compared to Jason now. And if Gar wasn’t mistaken, Jason’s cock was bigger? Though that seemed more like a trick of the eye. (Though, it was still a good two or three inches smaller than Gar’s, which Jason often called ‘monstrous’ and joked that he could barely walk after taking.) 

Gar didn’t have too much time to admire Jason’s nudity before Jason was on top of him, bumping their cocks together as he climbed onto Gar’s lap. 

Gar let out a harsh growl from deep within his chest at the feeling of his sensitive dick being touched by someone else for the first time in months - for the first time since Jason had stormed away from the Tower in a fit. Since then, he’d had nothing but his own hand and distant memories of Jason fueled by the fading smell on the clothes he’d left behind. 

Even then, it’s not like he had the opportunity or even the desire to touch himself all that often - not with the chaos going on in his life. So having a warm body in his lap again - the warm body of someone he had missed so fucking much - it reignited the fire inside of him like poking holes in a gasoline tankard and lighting a match. 

“Fuck, Jay.” 

Gar reached up and tightly, possessively grabbed Jason by the ass, pulling him closer instinctively. This caused the echo of a whimper from within Jason’s throat as he bent down to take Gar’s lips again. Jason’s hands planted firmly on the hard muscle of Gar’s chest and Gar kept that needy grasp on Jason’s ass - wanting to keep Jason as close to him as possible. 

The touch quickly turned into moving Jason on top of him, grinding Jason’s body on top of his so that their cocks were gyrating together - a perfectly filthy clash of hot skin that fit together so well after they had been apart for too long. 

They moaned into each other’s mouths and Jason forced his tongue past Gar’s sweet, pink lips - as if he was still trying to put up that fight, still trying to show that he held some power over the man underneath him. Gar’s cock was leaking furiously and soon the slide of their two cocks became wet and glossy while Gar’s bright pink cockhead was continually nudged against his stomach, making a mess against his abs and staining slickness all over Jason’s eager, throbbing dick. 

“Fuck. Fuck, man.” Jason hissed, pulling away from the kiss, a new urgency pumped into him. 

Gar felt a slight streak of disappointment when Jason looked away from him - like a fictional pixie, fading away for the slightest moment without Jason’s attention. The feeling was doubled when Jason took the touch of his chest. He actually found himself whimpering like a pathetic puppy as he wondered what Jason was doing. 

It made a bit more sense when Jason frantically unzipped his would-be getaway bag - rifling through the pockets, ripping out spare underwear and - fuck, of course, more of Gar’s bright green shirts that he had stolen - until he came back with a bottle in hand. 

Lube. 

Of course. Of course that would be something Jason considered to be an essential to travel with when he was stealing away into the night, never to be seen or heard from again. 

Gar would have made some kind of joke about it, but he found his mouth dry, and he was far too horny and mesmerized, his blood pumping through him at top speed as he watched Jason. Who uncapped the bottle and squirted some onto his fingers - then his hand disappeared behind him while he tensed his thighs and hiked his body higher up onto his knees, clearly with the intent to finger himself open in preparation for Gar’s cock. 

Gar huffed out hot breath. 

It had been so damn long. 

He felt his cock pulse with fierce need and spurt out more pathetic spurts of precum, making his stomach even more shiny as it began to pool inside his belly button. He rubbed his hands lovingly over Jason’s thighs as he continued to watch with the utmost rapture, his eyes drinking in every single inch of the beautiful body in front of him - the flexing muscles, the sharpness of Jason’s hips, the thickness of his thighs, the way his perfect, modest cock bobbed between his thighs while he worked. His plump, pink bottom lip snagged between his teeth while he tried to contain his moans. Something that turned the sounds into the most beautiful little grunts that Gar had ever heard. 

After a few moments, Jason pulled his fingers from himself with a sinfully wet sound, and then he reached for the bottle of lube again. Gar was surprised though when he went straight to pouring the shockingly cool liquid across Gar’s cock. 

Typically it took them a lot more work to get Jason ready to take Gar, seeing as he was a bit longer than nine inches, impressively thick - and though he tried his hardest to be gentle - when Jason begged him and nagged him with purpose, he could sometimes get carried away. (Jason claimed that he liked the feeling of soreness afterwards, but Gar sometimes felt guilty for letting go of self control and pounding into Jason like an animal.) 

“You - you want more help?” Gar choked out. 

With Jason’s hand on his cock, spreading the wetness, he was already pushing his orgasm down past the onslaught of sensations - the lube warming under Jason’s hot touch, the purposefully loose grip that Jason had on his dick that just made him itch and made him want more. 

Jason grunted in reply. 

“I fucked myself this morning.” He said, distinctly not making eye contact with Gar. Instead, continuing to stare at his own hand as he picked up the bottle and poured more wetness around his grip on that impressive, thick cock, and then spread it around. 

He almost added on: ‘I was thinking about you when I did it.’ 

But somehow, even now - that felt too emotionally vulnerable. 

Gar quickly became swallowed up by heated thoughts of this. He became consumed by the visual image of Jason splayed out on a bed somewhere, (wherever he had been staying since he had left), fucking himself with his fingers shoved deep inside his well-lubed hole while his other hand moved frantically on his cock. Or even better, pounding a toy inside of himself like the one Gar had found snooping through his room while looking for anything he could use to help Jason against Crane. 

He would look so fucking good like that, spread open on the unforgiving thickness of the silicone, desperate whines and moans coming from his lips because it was good, but it just wasn’t right. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t perfect like having Gar’s hot body on top of him while Gar’s big cock carved out a spot deep inside his guts- 

While Gar was distracted by these thoughts, Jason took the opportunity to line up the now well-lubed dick with his prepped hole and sink down onto Gar without another word. This caught Gar off guard, stealing his breath in the best way. It was smooth and slick and he didn’t waste a second before putting his entire body weight onto Gar, letting his ass rest flush with Gar’s pelvis so that Gar’s impressive cock was fully inside of him. 

“Jay - oh, fuck.” 

Gar let out a chest-rattling moan and quickly became dizzy, and it didn’t even occur to him that Jason had skipped putting a condom on him. So, this was the first time that he was bare inside Jason, absolutely no barriers between them. He couldn’t mentally comprehend it, and all he could think was - of course it was hotter, of course it felt better - he hadn’t seen Jason for so long, he had forgotten how perfect Jason felt around him, he had forgotten that it felt this fucking good. 

“God, fuck, Gar, your dick-” Jason mumbled out, clearly lost in a haze of pleasure himself. 

Jason didn’t waste a second - with Gar too pleasure-numb, Jason simply took what he needed. He planted his hands on Gar’s chest while Gar’s hands rested dumbly on his thighs, and he began frantically bouncing up and down on Gar’s dick, impaling himself on that beautiful big cock, quickly creating a good rhythm. He watched with awe and swelling adoration as his eyes locked on the man below him. 

Gar looked so perfect like this. 

His body was a sculpture of perfection, like Adonis himself, carved from marble. Every single time Jason got him naked in bed, he wondered how the hell he had gotten so lucky. With his pink lips parted as increasingly loud moans escaped him and his brows creased with pleasure, bits of that distinct green hair stuck to his forehead from the efforts. His stomach fluttering and flexing every single time Jason slammed his hips down and took Gar back inside him fully, Gar’s body glistening with sweat, slick from their encounter so far - he was a picture of perfection, not a single flaw that Jason could pick out.

And while his hole was tingling with the pleasure of having Gar inside him again and his cock was throbbing as it danced between them, beginning to sputter out precum now - he was beginning to ache with a brand new need. 

He was chasing a sexual need, of course, but he was also growing frantic with an emotional need that he had pushed down for so many months. He had missed Gar so fucking much. So much it hurt - and he had used so much to try and forget about it - the Anti Fear gas, the intense focus on Crane’s mission, the booze, the distance. 

But now it was all right here in front of him - those moans he had missed so much, that green hair, the smell of someone so distinct that he had tried huffing off clothing like a drug that he couldn’t buy anywhere off the street. He swallowed thickly and tried his best to hold back tears, and was only reminded of this more when Gar’s fingers dug into his hips - a firm but loving grasp that only more deeply reminded him of who he was fucking. Reminded him of what he had missed out on. 

“Dammit,” Jason huffed out. “Fuck - your-your cock is so good,” 

Usually he was a motormouth during sex. He was infamous for never shutting up until his orgasm hit him like a truck. If it was spitting out ‘fuckboy’-esque promises that he never could keep because he usually wasn’t the one fucking Gar’s brains out (but rather, mindlessly taking a cock), or horny blabbering as he begged for more - his tongue was constantly sputtering out something while Gar touched him. 

So he thought that talking would be a good distraction from the horrible knot in his gut - from this thing that he was feeling. He didn’t need to deal with those stupid fucking feelings right now. He just didn’t. 

“So fuckin’ big.” Jason whined. “You feel so good inside me.” 

Gar grunted in return, taking a tighter hold on Jason’s hips and helping more now. He helped Jason slam down harder, causing a harsher collision of their skin each time - a sharp, wet slapping that sounded absolutely sinful in the room. It made Jason feel fuller somehow, and he let out a downright whorish sound, struggling to get out his next words. 

“God - I - fuck -” He whined. “Your cock - Gar - you feel so-” 

“Yeah.” Gar breathed back in reply, encouraging him. “Yeah, Jay.” 

With another hard slam of Gar’s hips up into his hole, Jason’s mouth was knocked loose. 

“Missed this dick.” He breathed out. “Missed this - missed this so much. Missed you.” 

It was a stubborn admission that even the world’s harshest torture couldn’t have pulled out of him. But the feeling of Gar’s cock deep inside of him, those fingers digging into his flesh like he owned Jason - that was enough to have his tongue loosening around his secrets and have him spilling into vulnerability like it was his fucking job. 

Jason didn’t have enough time for the sting of regret to settle over saying the words, because something inside Gar snapped. The mourning in Jason’s voice, knowing that Jason has missed him just as much - he went from dumb and lustful as Jason bounced on his cock to swelling with that passionate anger once again. He had missed too much time with Jason, and he needed to make up for it. He needed Jason to know that he couldn’t just run away - that he mattered. 

He became filled with the determined need to show Jason that he couldn’t leave - he could never leave, because Gar had missed him too. 

Gar loved him. Gar needed him. 

They needed each other. 

Gar grabbed him around the waist and with a deep growl that was truly bordering on animal this time, he flipped Jason over onto his back. His cock slipped out of Jason, slick from the lube, causing Jason to make a startled, disappointed noise as he suddenly felt far too empty. When Gar leaned over Jason and felt Jason’s getaway bag brushing against his knee, a swell of offense came over him. He reached for the bag, shoving it off the bed without a second thought - spilling clothes and other random items across the floor out of the open zippers, something that neither of them paid any mind to in the following hours. 

“Please, Gar-” Jason breathed out, and from there, anything else in the world was shut out for him and Gar. 

Maybe what they had done before could never be considered making love - but they certainly had their moments. Times when Jason would kiss Gar’s forehead after making him cum, before getting out of bed without a word. Times when Gar grabbed both of Jason’s hands and interlocked their fingers while he rocked his cock deep inside of him. But for the most part, they fucked filthy and horny and desperate. They fucked like two guys in a race to get each other off - and it worked for them. 

But this felt different. 

As Gar slipped his cock back inside of Jason, he locked eyes with the man below him and a spark ran through him that said this was different. This wasn’t turning to the closest warm body out of convenience or boredom. This wasn’t just a friendship with some very particular, spectacular benefits. This was the intense gaze of a lover, locked into a stare that said the rest of the world was locked out, completely forgotten just because Gar was touching him. 

This was coming home. 

This meant that nothing else mattered - no past transgressions, no supposed mistakes, no demanding corrupt figures that had used them as pawns in their own games - none of it could even be seen as Jason locked his knees around Gar’s lower back, holding him tightly in place, silently begging him not to go too far. 

A quiet: please, don’t leave me, I need you. 

I need you just as much as you need me. I swear it. 

Gar held back more tears, and his next huff of breath turned into another low growl - a sound that had Jason whining quietly and clenching down on his cock. That hint at his more animal side had always been something Jason had liked - especially knowing that Gar was the most tame ‘beast’ he had ever met. Ironic, considering that Gar could turn into a six hundred pound tiger and he could shred people with his teeth at will. But Gar was the most gentle person Jason had ever known - someone he trusted with his life within a day of knowing him. Someone better than his own blood relatives and shitty foster ‘families’ who had tossed him out onto the street without a second thought. 

Gar was never a beast, no matter what he was capable of. 

“Please.” Jason begged, his voice slightly choked and breathless. 

He held on tightly to the side of Gar’s face, the other hand straying around to grip the back of Gar’s shoulder - and though Gar’s cock was already throbbing and threatening to blow far too early, he knew he couldn’t deny Jason any longer. 

Gar pressed his forehead into Jason’s neck, unable to stand the piercing interrogation of that gaze - looking for atonement, looking for validation, looking for love. Gar would give him all of those things, and he fucking will - but he couldn’t concentrate on that and delivering a quality fuck at the same time. Jason deserved that, too. He deserved to cum in a spectacular and satisfying way. 

With his concentration a bit steadier, Gar began to fuck his hips forward - fucking into Jason in slow, smooth strokes. 

“Jay, fuck,” He moaned out. “So fucking good. You’re so fucking good.” 

Jason let out a high whine in return and Gar sped up his hips - fucking into Jason faster, but nowhere near as fast as Jason had been riding him. It was still so tender and slow, deep and firm as the thickness of his cock truly made a home inside of Jason that reminded them both exactly where he belonged. 

Jason’s voice warbled - becoming nothing but a nonsensical echo of weak sounds dispersing into the air. Gar couldn’t help himself; he kissed a trail from the middle of Jason’s chest up his neck once again, taking the time to lay a few more possessive bites across Jason’s neck before he reached his face. When he felt roughness under his lips, it truly sunk in that Jason had been hurt - he had picked up a few injuries while fighting to defend him and the other Titans. Jason had put his body on the line for them. 

How could Jason ever be bad if he was willing to get hurt in order to protect his family? 

A swell of passion and possessiveness streaked through him again. 

His tongue sneaked out of his mouth and he licked over the cut above Jason’s eye like a cat trying to lick the wound clean, all of his instincts heightened with the lust pumping through him. Something in his lust-drunken brain was screaming at him that Jason needed this care, and nothing more than the saliva from his tongue would make Jason feel better. 

He did this, kitten licking across the cut, while he continually ground his hips deeply against Jason’s, stuffing his cock ever deeper into Jason’s needy hole. It made for a breath-taking combination of care, attention, and heat that made Jason’s stomach curl. 

“Gar-” He gasped out. “I - ah - fuck!” 

Gar gave another little lick and then moved to grab both of Jason’s hands, entwining their fingers on both sides as he had done in the past. Previous times Jason had laughed about it or called him cheesy, or even suggested that Gar use handcuffs instead if he truly wanted to pin Jason down. But this time, as Gar brought the grip of their tangled hands up above Jason’s head and continued fucking him so deeply. Jason only let out another shuddering gasp and looked Gar in the eyes with a glassy look that said he was truly gone. 

He had surrendered everything to Gar now. 

He couldn’t have run from this if he tried. 

“Come on,” Gar grunted, slamming his hips a little harder, a little more determined - pulling back a bit more, going a bit deeper. It was a motion that pulled louder sounds from Jason, that made him tremble. 

“Cum for me.” He breathed into Jason’s ear. “Cum on my cock - so good for me. Cum for me, show me how much you missed me.” 

Gar kept Jason pinned by their joined hands and by his hips holding Jason tightly to the bed. With his cock slamming into Jason in fierce, heavy, hard strokes - and with Jason’s cock jostling between them, brushing against Gar’s impossibly hot stomach - it was difficult for him to deny the order. With those words spoken in that perfect voice, floating in his ears, the orgasm shot through his body like his soul awakening - like he was truly feeling himself for the first time since he had woken up after The Pit. 

“Shh - shit! Ah! Fuck!” 

He gasped and struggled to get air into his lungs, and Gar cloaked his mouth over Jason’s gaping lips, fucking him right through it. Jason’s cock jumped and jolted between them, painting both their stomachs with his cum while his hole tightened and clenched around Gar - while he shook beneath Gar and tightly grasped Gar’s hands. 

It was utterly perfect. 

“Please, please, please-” Jason gasped, frantic. 

He needed Gar to cum, too. He needed the feeling to be complete. 

Gar let out another growl, shoving his head into Jason’s neck, taking a healthy whiff of his sweat as he fucked his hips hard into Jason. 

“Mine.” He growled possessively into Jason’s skin. “Mine, mine, mine-” He punctuated each slap of his hips into Jason’s ass with the word, his mind filled with this as though it were the one true thing in the world. 

“Mine.” 

A final pathetic dribble of cum escaped Jason before Gar’s cock began pumping into him. As he came, Gar’s teeth latched onto his neck once again, biting down hard enough to pull blood this time - creating a twinge of copper under Gar’s tongue and wringing even more inhuman sounds out of Jason. 

Gar pressed his hips as deep as possible into Jason, making them both utterly high on the feeling of his cum fucking deep into Jason for the first time. Jason feeling it so warm inside of him and having it pool and leak down over Gar’s balls - it only further reminded them how utterly close they were, how deeply Gar had marked Jason, how Jason was cursed to return back to Gar because he needed this - it was a deep reminder of how Gar was his home. 

Tears leaked from Jason’s eyes and Gar licked them away, grinding his hips deep into Jason - causing stray whimpers and aftershocks of pleasure while his cock began to soften. 

“God, oh-” 

“I know.” Gar replied, his voice more ragged than he imagined it should be. 

When he pulled out, it felt like a shock to both of their systems. Too empty, too distant - even still so close to a warm body, too cold. 

Jason’s first instinct was to get up and go to the bathroom to clean up. Especially feeling the stickiness and the mess all over his body as he came down from the high. But Gar rolled onto his back and put a tight arm around his back. 

“Sleep now.” Gar told him, puffing out an oddly cute little yawn. For someone who had just fucked his brains out - he now resembled a sleepy little house cat. 

Jason found that he couldn’t really argue with that. 

… 

Even though Jason was exhausted and hadn’t slept much in the past few weeks, he woke up long before Gar did. 

There was still so much worry plaguing him. 

Oddly enough, Gar’s snoring was more of a comfort than it was a disturbance. It reminded him of sharing a wall with Gar when their bedrooms had been so close together; when he had laid awake at night after scurrying out of Gar’s bed at top speed after they had fucked, wondering what it would have been like if he had decided to stay. 

Back then, it felt like the end of the world to open up to Gar. But now, he couldn’t help but to wonder if it would have saved him in the long run. 

Titans Tower was never the perfect place for him. It only ever felt livable because Gar had been there. They grew so close so quickly - at the time, Jason had tried to convince himself that it was just friendship. That it was the delusion of being stuck in close quarters. Gar was convenient - he was a good fuck, close by, and he was hot. He was someone Jason could get off with while Dick and Bruce had him locked up. And most of all, Gar was pleasant to be around. He didn’t look down on Jason like he was just some street rat, and he didn’t expect Jason to perform miracles just because he had taken on the mantle of Robin. 

Gar treated him like an equal. At the time, that was the best that Jason could ask for. 

Jason didn’t think there were any possible downsides to being close with Gar, and letting himself have some sexual relief in the process. 

Until Deathstroke. 

If he had any feelings for Gar, he had been suppressing them, and then - Gar argued with him about going out to hunt down Doctor Light. He felt betrayed. He felt like Gar didn’t understand him anyway, like Gar would always side with Bruce’s favorite - Good Old Dickie. The one thing he had been putting Gar on a pedestal for - treating him as an equal - was slashed away within seconds. 

Back then, Jason couldn’t think rationally. He felt like he needed to capture Doctor Light and bring him in to get back in Bruce’s good graces, to show the Titans what he could do. He had no clue that Gar was scared for him; that he was acting out of fear, trying to protect Jason. (Something he would continue to do no matter what, apparently.) 

At the time, Jason was insecure and stir crazy and he let it get to him. 

And then, he was blindfolded, strapped to a chair, stabbed, and beaten, and all he could think of was how much he was going to disappoint Gar. How much he was going to hurt him. Bruce, Dick, and the other Titans were the farthest thing from his mind - all he could think about were the last time those soft lips had been on his, the flash of green hair. The utterly disappointed look Gar had given him when he had declined to call Dick for back-up before going into the train tunnels. 

Gar thought Jason was stupid. But Gar was so damn soft-hearted. And Jason couldn’t stop thinking about how much he was going to hurt Gar with his idiotic antics. How much he was going to take from someone who didn’t deserve it. 

As he was strapped to that chair, watching Deathstroke sharpen the sword, all he could think about was the look on Gar’s face - the tears he was going to cry when he was eventually told about Jason being sliced open. Especially because he knew that Gar would blame himself for not saving Jason, for not calling Dick sooner - and it was all Jason’s own stupid fault. 

When he got back, somehow unscathed, he kept his distance from Gar. It hadn’t happened then, but the day would come when he would bring Gar a lot of undue pain - and if he started severing their ‘friendship’ now, then he could eventually soften the blow. At least, that was his line of thinking. He kept far away from Gar’s room when he needed that comfort more than ever, thinking that it would both do them better in the long run. 

When a knock came on his door, he was surprised that it was Rose, and not Gar - and he was pissed off and annoyed more than anything. She was persistent and he was tired. 

When she barged her way in, he found a particular part of his brain nagging at him - telling him that technically, he was still single. He shouldn’t get so attached to Gar anyway, because it would only hurt them both later on. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be attached - he wanted to know that he could run at any time. He needed to know that he wouldn’t get hurt. More importantly, that he wouldn’t hurt someone soft and caring like Gar. 

He wanted to be able to say that everything going on between him and Gar was just sex. 

So he let himself kiss Rose. 

And he felt absolutely nothing. 

When she told him: ‘Don’t be stupid and maybe it’ll happen again.’ 

He wanted to bark out: ‘It won’t.’ 

But he didn’t want to lay it all out. He didn’t want to tell her of all people that he was in love with his best friend and that’s why he wasn’t available. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud - and that’s why he settled for simply telling her to loudly fuck off as he stormed out of Titans Tower, determined to be alone. Especially when Gar did nothing more than stare him down with sad eyes, not moving a muscle, making no efforts to chase him. 

He was meant to be alone. Or so he thought. 

It was very clear that Gar had other plans. 

Gar - who was currently snoring beside him with the presence of a slumbering lion. Perhaps Gar had skewed his idea of what it might actually be like to sleep beside a lion - wholly warm, downright hot, with heat radiating off his skin like a furnace, utterly soft and cuddly even though he was so muscled, someone who slept with his mouth agape and snored loudly - but in a pleasantly rhythmic way. He was a perfect, quaint, slumbering beast. 

He made Jason feel safe. 

It was not a luxury Jason had often in life. Maybe it was the thing that kept him coming back to Gar, again and again - that precious feeling of safety. It truly was better than any drug. 

More and more presently by the minute, Jason was reminded of the mess - the unpleasant drying cum between his cheeks and on his lower stomach, leaking out of him and no longer pleasantly warm. It made him want a shower. He didn’t want to scare Gar by having him wake up to an empty bed, but he also didn’t want to wake him, steal sleep away from him when he clearly desperately needed it. 

Jason nudged his way to the edge of the bed, trying to sneak away to the bathroom - but when he heard a harsh snort from Gar, he knew him well enough to know that this had signaled the end of his sleep; a harsh jolt awake. 

“Where are you going?” Gar mumbled tiredly, not even having his eyes fully open yet before he frantically looked around for Jason. 

“I was just gonna go shower, crawl outta my ass.” Jason hissed back, still feeling a bit raw and defensive. 

He knew that Gar would sacrifice anything for him, but he still felt unworthy. Like a puffer fish growing big in defense, Jason was spitting out sourness in a last-ditch attempt to get Gar to change his mind - to shift his thinking last minute and suddenly see the truth: to find him unworthy. 

Jason was almost shocked when Gar smiled. 

Gar held back a clever quip about how he had made a home inside Jason’s ass and he wasn’t going to change that now. 

“I’ll come with you.” He said instead. “Hot shower sounds nice right about now.” 

“You should stay and sleep.” Jason told him, still teetering on the edge of the bed. “You’re clearly tired.” 

“And you’re not?” Gar probed back. 

There was a moment of tense silence. Jason didn’t offer up a reply. 

“Come on, what’s this about?” Gar asked, fully opening his eyes now, propping himself up on one elbow to stare Jason down. 

“After I get dressed, I have to go and talk to Dick.” Jason declared. 

The words were heavy in the air. 

The admission that he no longer felt the need to run. That he wanted to make an effort to stay, that he actually wanted to ask for his place back with the Titans. 

Gar wanted to squeal with glee. Naturally, he held himself back. There would be a few more bumps in the road before Jason was officially home. 

“Not by yourself.” Gar told him sharply. 

Jason’s jaw clenched. He was afraid to admit that he needed the help. It was something he had been afraid of for a long time. 

But he knew that without Gar’s help, without Gar vouching for him in Dick’s eyes, the conversation would likely only go one way. 

And he needed to come home. He needed to stay. 

Jason felt weak, and his voice was quiet when he finally mustered it up. 

“Okay.” 

It was a weak surrender. But things between him and Gar had never been that kind of battle. Not the kind of battle that he had with Bruce, or with Dick, or even with himself. There was never any true hatred there. Just the kind of fierce anger you feel when you love someone so much that you fear losing them. 

So this surrender didn’t feel like a stain on his record - didn’t feel too much like giving up, after all. Not when the picture he ended up with had him and Gar in the same frame. It was something that made him feel more content and less defeated when Gar poorly concealed a smile in response - and then pulled him in for a kiss before getting up to grab towels for their shower.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so please do not ask for a second part or a continuation. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

Also, typically, I don't write character x character fics, so if you randomly found this in tags and you really like it - I apologize, because the rest of my masterlist is not like this and I won't be writing anything else like it anytime soon. I do write a lot of Titans fics and I have a lot more of them on my masterlist, so if you enjoy my style of smut or if you really enjoy my characterization of these two, then you should definitely check out the other things I have written - particularly No Place Like Home, which has a lot more JayGar scenes in it.

If you do really like my writing style and you want to see Titans x Reader fics (which is what I typically write), then you can follow me and sign up for my DC Titans Taglist by replying to this post asking to be put on the taglist or sending me an ask about it. Anyway, glad you enjoying the fic if you read this far, thanks for reading!!

[slut4thebroken]

The Arkham Knight’s Whore

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Arkham Knight x reader

Summary | Exactly what the title says.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, sexual slavery??, but consensual, exhibitionism, rough sex, humiliation, degradation, praise, he hates everyone but you, possessive!jason, ruined orgasm, orgasm delay/denial, threats of using a chastity belt lol, creampie hehe, idk what else tbh.

Words | 3.4 k

Notes | Idk man one day I just had a vision.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

The voices of the men were muffled in your fuzzy brain. The only things you could focus on were the hard ground you were kneeling on, the collar wrapped tightly around your neck, and the breeze making your mostly nude body tremble. This was how most days went by— in a blur, not ever truly being able to focus on anything. Especially if it was something other than the man you were kneeling next to. 

A gloved hand started stroking your hair, making you sigh and close your eyes with a small smile. His rare acts of affection were your favorite part of the entire day. Anytime he’d cup your cheek or lightly caress your body, you always savored the touch. Especially because it was usually followed not long after by a rougher touch instead. His movements paused and he grabbed your hair, then yanked your head back until you were looking up at him. 

“Are you listening, pet?” 

“N-no. I’m sorry.” You said quietly, trying to focus on him and not get lost in the painful feeling on your scalp that was making your core ache. 

“Come here.” You were barely able to hide the eagerness in your movements as you got up to straddle his lap, paying no mind to the men behind you. You waited with your hands behind your back until he grabbed them and placed them on his shoulders. He started rubbing his hands up and down your thighs slowly, teasing you. 

“I’m going out tonight. I want you in my room, naked and on your knees, when I return.” 

“Yes, sir.” You wondered if he had something specific planned for tonight. 

“What are you looking at?” He barked, making you jump. Then, “Sorry for scaring you, pet. Not you, don’t worry.” You breathed out a sigh of relief. Sometimes you really hated when he wore the helmet. 

“You. Come here.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him point to someone behind you. Slow footsteps were heard until they finally stopped. 

“Sir?” The man asked, voice trembling. 

“You know the rules, yes?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Tell me which one you just broke.” Even through the distortion you could hear how scary he sounded. 

“I- I looked at her.” 

“That’s right. Not a hard rule is it? If you were doing your job, your attention should’ve been elsewhere so help me understand why it was on her.” His hands stopped to grip your thighs, making you gasp quietly. 

“I- I’m sorry, sir. It won’t- it won’t happen again.” He stammered, the fear in his voice painfully obvious. 

“No. It won’t.” He grabbed the gun from his thigh and quickly shot the man. Because of the loud noise close to your ears, your hearing went a little muffled, but you could faintly hear his body dropping to the floor. 

“A reminder,” He said loudly, addressing the rest of the men in the room, “anyone looks at, speaks to, or touches her… they’re a dead man. Understand?” A chorus of “yes, sir” filled the room and he turned his attention back to you as he holstered the gun. 

“Go to my room. Someone will bring you food soon.” His voice was notably softer now. 

“Yes, sir. How long will you be gone?” 

“Just a few hours.”

“Okay. Be safe.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile. 

After you showered, got ready for bed, and ate, you were starting to get more anxious about when you should go to the floor to wait for him. You didn’t want him to come back and not find you where he wanted, but at the same time you didn’t want to kneel for that long. Eventually you decided to sit down on the floor and read. Anytime you heard footsteps outside the door, you threw your book down and got on your knees. And each time, you were disappointed when they walked right past the door. 

Finally when the door opened, you snapped your head down to face the floor, listening to it close and then his footsteps around the room. You heard the loud thud of his helmet dropping on a table and almost looked up at the sudden noise. His footsteps kept growing closer until they stopped behind you and his fingers were running through your hair. 

“Did you behave?” The sound of his non distorted voice always made you melt. 

“Yes, sir.” You wanted to ask how his night went, but you’re not sure what kind of mood he’s in yet. 

“Good girl.” His hand snaked around until it wrapped around the front of your neck, pulling your head back to look up at him. “You ready for me?” 

“Always.” When the corners of his lips turned up it was better than any orgasm you could ever have. He helped you up by your neck, then placed both of his hands on your hips, pulling you into him. He didn’t wait long before leaning down and pressing his lips to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin. You bit your lip and dug your nails into your palms painfully as you resisted bringing your hands up to touch him. When he suddenly took a step back, you barely managed to swallow down the whimper in time. 

“On the bed, ass up.” He said while working on taking off his belt. You eagerly climbed onto the bed and settled in the center before lifting yourself up onto your knees, keeping your head and shoulders down. You didn’t even hear him move before hands were being placed on the backs of your thighs, slowly snaking up. He groped your ass roughly, making your breath hitch. When his thumb brushed over your slit, you bit down on the sheets, not wanting to be loud without his permission. 

“Always so fucking wet.” He muttered, making your face heat up. “You like it, don’t you? Being my whore.” He spoke more clearly now and you let out a low whine. 

“Yes, sir.” You said through a moan, resisting pushing your hips back into his touch. 

“Good. Because I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.” You weren't sure if he was intending for it to sound literal or metaphorical, but deep down you knew that he was being completely serious. 

The blunt head of his cock replaced his thumb and he dragged it up and down your slit slowly. You didn’t have to wait long before he was pushing into you, splitting you open despite the fact that you’ve gotten used to his size after all this time. You buried your head into the sheets to muffle your moans, but he just leaned over you, making his length go even deeper, then grabbed your hair and pulled your head back up. When his hips were completely pressed to yours, he stilled, letting you adjust. Your chest heaved as you tried to relax your body, hoping to lessen the sting. After only another moment, he was moving his hips back until just the tip was inside of you, then slamming back in. You let out a choked moan at the force of his thrust but quickly put a hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 

“I want to hear you, bitch. Let everyone know who’s fucking you.” You tentatively removed your hand and he pulled out again, faster this time, and slammed back in even harder. He continued like this for a while until his hand released your hair to grab your hip. As he pounded your already aching hole, you tried to keep your head up so he could hear you. A knock at the door made the moan catch in your throat. 

“What?” He barked, still snapping his hips into you, even as the door opened. You let out a low whine and buried your face in the sheets, but he grabbed your hair again and lifted you up. 

“Sir, you wanted to be notified immediately after a sighting— He’s at the docks. Robin too.” You tried to keep your moans in as the man spoke, but he yanked on your hair, making you cry out.  

“Find out why he’s there.” His voice wasn’t even slightly breathless as his brutal pace continued. 

“Yes, sir.” When the door closed, he pushed your head forward as he let go of your hair, then roughly pulled out. Because you weren’t holding your head up at all, it fell onto the bed, making you release a muffled grunt. He smacked your ass only once before grabbing you and flipping you onto your back. 

“I thought I said I wanted to hear you.” He growled, roughly grabbing your thighs and forcing your legs open. Before you could even think of apologizing, his hand was coming down hard on your clit. You let out a choked sob and he did it again before you could fully recover. 

“I-I’m sorry! Please-” You cut yourself off with another sob as he hit you once again. Seemingly giving you mercy, he slid inside of you again and lifted your lower half off the bed to start snapping his hips into you. You watched his eyes trail all over your body and the way his lips parted as he panted quietly, but that was the only skin you could see and you wished one day he’d let you see all of him. But it took him so long before he was able to take the helmet off, and even then, for the first few times, he kept you on your knees with your face buried in the sheets and immediately put it back on after. 

As the knot of arousal in stomach grew tighter, you willed yourself to hold off your orgasm until he gave you permission. Which proved to be a difficult feat as his thrusts became more frenzied and his pants turned into low grunts and moans. 

“Please,” You gasped out, feeling tears of desperation make their way into your eyes. “Please! Sir, I need to come.” You cried. 

“Hold it or you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week.” He growled, adding to the arousal growing in your stomach. 

“I- I’m trying,” You whimpered, a few tears falling down your temples into your hair. 

“Needy fucking whore, always worried about your own pleasure. Do I need to train you again?” You whined at his words, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Or maybe I should just lock up your cunt permanently— use your other fuck holes instead.” 

“Oh god,” You sobbed out. 

“You like the sound of that? You wanna be a proper fuck toy? Just a little fleshlight for my cock?” And god- you did fucking like the sound of that. 

“I- I can’t hold it, sir.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on staving off your orgasm. He slowed to a stop, making you whine and squirm, his grip tightening on your hips painfully in response. 

“Greedy fucking slut.” He spat. 

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, still trying to move your hips to get the friction back. 

“Keep acting up and I’ll fuck your ass right now— no lube, no prep.” He warned, making you freeze. “There you go. You can be an obedient little whore, you just need some motivation, don’t you?” He cooed mockingly and you whined with a blush.

“I’m going to keep fucking you. If you come, I’ll ruin it, then finish in your ass. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, staring up at him with wide, tearful eyes. He resumed the brutal pace, making you cry out at the sudden pleasure. 

“Fucking take it.” He gritted, hips snapping into you impossibly faster and harder. “You want to be my whore? Then act like it.” Your hands fisted the sheets hard enough to make your fingers ache as you focused on anything but your impending orgasm. His words were making it incredibly difficult though. 

“Don’t forget, bitch— you’re replaceable. I can get a pocket pussy anytime I want and at least that toy will actually focus on my pleasure for once.” He spat, making you let out a choked sob. 

“I’m sorry— please I’m sorry, sir, I just- I can’t help it.” You cried, walls fluttering around his length as you got closer and closer. “You just feel so fucking good.” You whimpered. His grip tightened on your hips even more, making you wince. 

“I guess I shouldn’t expect much else from a slut, should I? You get a cock inside you and all that training just disappears.” 

“No- no, I’m sorry.” Despite the protest, it was getting harder and harder to prove that his statement was incorrect. “I still remember— I’m good.” You whimpered. 

“Oh are you?” He asked and you nodded in response. “I don’t know if I believe you. Not when you’re seconds away from coming without permission.” 

“I'm trying! Please, I'm trying..” You said through a sob, tears welling in your eyes. When someone knocked on the door again, your eyes widened as you whimpered. 

“What?” He spat, never slowing his pace. The door opened and you bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Falcone’s guys are there. We think he’s trying to bust one of his imports.” 

You tried to think about violent death, vomit, dead animals— anything to hold off your orgasm. But it was no use. Slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, your back arched even more in his hold as you fell over the edge. He stopped abruptly, making you whine and try to fuck yourself on his cock, which was useless because of the way he was holding you. 

“I’ll deal with it later. Let me know if anything important goes down.” 

“Yes, sir.” He said, then closed the door. The second it was shut, you were being dropped onto the bed, his cock leaving your sensitive hole almost painfully.  

“Stupid fucking slut.” He spat, making your bottom lip tremble. You couldn’t look at him, not when you knew how furious he was. “That’s what gets you off? Being watched by my men? Maybe I should bring a few in here so you can give them a real show.” 

“…No.” You whined, brows furrowed as you frowned. 

“No? But you seemed to enjoy it just now… After all, you fucking came from it.” You let out a choked sob at the venom in his voice. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whimpered. 

“What am I gonna do with you, huh? Clearly training doesn't work.” 

“Please— I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

“Maybe I should just lock up your cunt until you can learn to follow orders.” He gave a harsh slap to your clit and you cried out as tears welled in your eyes. 

“No! No— please. Please don’t, master,”

“Oh it’s master now?” He chuckled, making your face heat up. 

“Y-yes. You’re my master, my owner. And I’m your whore, sir.” You whimpered. 

“That’s fuckin right. But what does it say about me if I allow my bitch to disobey me?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please punish me, hurt me— anything but locking me up.” You begged pathetically. He seemed to think about it for a moment before getting an idea. 

“I’ll let you choose your punishment. You can either be locked up for however long I see fit, or I can fuck your ass right now, without any prep or lube.” You whined and looked away from him. 

“Sir…” 

“You have three seconds, then I’m choosing for you.” He warned. You know how painful anal can be, even with some prep and lube, so you can’t even imagine what it would feel like with nothing. 

“The first one.” You said quietly, feeling like you were about to cry at the thought of what you just asked for. 

“Chastity belt it is then. I’ll have someone get one tonight. For now though,” he let your legs drape over his hips as he lined his cock back up with your hole, “I might as well come in this fuck hole one last time.” He pushed in and immediately started bucking his hips, making you choke on a moan at the suddenness. “I hope it was worth it. That was the last orgasm you’ll have for a while.” You whined and squeezed your eyes shut— it wasn’t worth it. But he knew that. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” 

“Fucking save it. Just shut up and let me use my defective fleshlight to get myself off.” A strangled moan escaped you at the blatant objectification and humiliation of you. You bit your lip to muffle as much sound as you could, trying to be good for him. 

You could tell he was close though which was making it harder. His hips snapped into your abused hole relentlessly and he was letting out quiet grunts and moans as his eyes trailed over your body. 

“Can’t believe I fuckin’ keep you around.” He muttered, making you frown. “A sex doll would do a better job than you.” You wanted to apologize and beg and plead, but you weren’t sure if you were allowed to talk. So you stared up at him with furrowed brows, your bottom lip trembling as the tears finally started to fall. “Don’t fucking cry about it, we both know it’s true.” He spat, making you whine pathetically. 

“I don’t ask for much, do I? I just want a warm hole to fuck and pretty, obedient little bitch to use however I want. I give you a bed, a collar, three meals a day, my cock, all of those silly books, but you can’t do just that in return?” 

“Permission to speak, sir?” You said quietly, your voice barely audible over the loud smacking of skin as he fucked you. 

“Since you asked so nicely.”

“I- I’m sorry for making you unhappy. I appreciate everything that you do for me and I want to return the favor however you wish… ‘m gonna be better, sir. Promise.” It was hard to get the words out with the intensity of his thrusts but you did a decent enough job for him to understand at least. 

“However I wish?” 

“Yes, master.” 

“Let’s start by making me come then, hm?” You nodded eagerly, excited for him to finally fill you up. He grabbed your hips and lifted you off the bed a few inches to start snapping into you at a brutal pace. 

“You’re my fuckin’ whore, you understand?” He growled, breathing growing heavier. “My men don’t make you come— I do. So fucking act like it.” 

“I only come for you. N-no one else.” You whimpered, fisting the sheets to try and ground yourself.. “I only serve you, ‘m your whore. No one else’s.” You agreed, nodding desperately. 

His low grunts and moans got louder until he was forcing his cock deep inside you and holding you there as his cock started twitching, spurting ropes of come against your walls. He cursed under his breath as his hips occasionally bucked forward, trying to bury his length impossibly deeper even though the pressure on your cervix was almost becoming painful. 

“Who’s whore are you?” He asked through a breath, chest lightly heaving as he panted. 

“Yours.” You were equally breathless. He leaned over you and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, making you let out a startled whimper. 

“Say my fuckin’ name! Who’s whore are you?” He all but yelled, scaring you a little. 

“The Arkham Knight’s! I’m the Arkham Knight's whore.” You rushed out and he studied your face for a moment, making you stomach twist with nerves. 

“That’s right. And unless you want to be replaced, you better start acting like it.” He leaned back up and slowly pulled out, then spread your folds for a better view of his come dripping from your hole. “It’s a shame such a good cunt is going to waste.” You blushed and frowned in response. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” You said quietly. 

“I know.” He suddenly got up and retrieved some rope then reached for your wrists. You held them out to him as he tied them together, then to the headboard. “Since I can’t trust you to not come without permission, you’ll stay tied up until I come back with the chastity belt.” You whined and squirmed, pulling on the knots to test their strength, but they were unmoving. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“Hours?” You whimpered as he stood up. Your cunt was still aching and he was going to leave you like this for hours? Instead of responding, he grabbed his helmet and walked out. You let out a heavy breath and did your best to not think about anything that would get you even more worked up, but it was useless. You couldn’t help but think about what he was doing right now and what that would mean for you in the very near future. 

Sorry I lowkey don’t know how to end this lmao 

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