#it is fucked that i actually think like this. my soul wouldn’t last a day in the forgotten realms.

[meepetteoneonly]

Ha! Yes. It’s rational choice. We have a tadpole problem and he offer us a solution for this tadpole problem, but isn’t the deal unbalanced? At least a little?

Raphael offers us means to save ourselves, not the salvation itself. It is still possible we’ll just die fighting the Netherbrain. Raphael offers us this while he knows that we have other options, i.e. siding with Emperor. And he offers this to us in exchange of the ultimate source/key to God-like power. He can do this because we are desperate and he assumes that we don’t know what the crown truly is or that we simply have no use for it. Perfectly reasonable of him, yet unbalanced offer considering he basically offer us fancy hammer we can eventually use in exchange of ticket to Godhood.

It is also strange how he vests a lot of hope to us. We can still side with Emperor and we can also gave the crown to Gale who can either ascend or submit the crown to Mystra. There is a lot of variables in his game and yet, he pursues it. Considering Raphael cold calculating despite his hunger for power, there had to be something more to it.

My little silly theory is that he secretly works with Tiamat. The dragon evil Goddess and archdevil. He needs an ally powerfull enough to take Asmodeus (who is God) down and Tiamat used to work with Asmodeus so she might be a good choice. Also he needs Orpheus free - probably to reunite him with Gith who went to Hells after she made deal with Tiamat that ended Githyanki slavery to mindflayers and use them (and Orpheus’s followers) as an additional force in Blood War or war against Asmodeus. I believe that in exchange of their help, he will help with Vlaakith. What’s in it for Tiamat? She is somehow imprisoned in Hells and can be only summoned to Material Plane by powerful ritual. Such ritual may require powerful artifact. Tiamat probably just do what evil Gods do in Material Plane. Interesting is, that it was Cult of Dragon (her followers) who attacked the city and who Wyll fought with help of Mizora (Zariel by proxy). This could mean that Zariel is not on good terms with Tiamat and it also makes (in this theory) Zariel target of Raphael’s

Me playing act 3 of BG3 a year ago (sane): lol why would anyone side with Raphael when you can just side with the Emperor with little to no consequences?

Me playing act 3 of BG3 a year later (delusional and insane):

Why would I not take Raphael’s deal? It’s the only rational choice. I can’t trust the Emperor since he’s hiding things and don’t get me started on Stelmane. Who would I even give the Crown to anyway? Mystra? Don’t know her and frankly the little I know, she’s an asshole. Gale? Oh yeah giving a stupid amount of power to an already power-hungry man after his redemption arc seems like a great idea. Leaving it at the bottom of the sea? Pffff talk about being irresponsible. I don’t want it either, so why shouldn’t I give it to my helpful devil pookie? He has asked so nicely. What’s the worst that can happen? He either loses it and it collects dust in the Hells as it has done for millennia or he becomes the new Asmodeus. The latter honestly won’t change much anyway because he won’t win the Blood War even if he did. Raphael should have it. No one has put as much work into it as he has. Pookie deserves it, as a little treat for being so good and helpful and trustworthy to us 💕✨😌

[steddieas-shegoes]

don't want to move on

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt 'make-up sex'

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 3165 words | read all tags on ao3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed.

Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy.

But he couldn’t get out of this one.

And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.

It makes him want to hide. Or take his pants off.

He hasn’t quite decided yet.

“Are you gonna glare at him all night or go talk to him?” Jonathan asks from behind him.

Steve turns, feels ridiculous that he’s been caught, and crosses his arms across his chest defiantly.

“I’m gonna ignore him until he leaves and then excuse myself so I can sulk in peace,” Steve admits.

Robin was his platonic soulmate, but Jonathan has become a sort of unexpected best friend. He was there the morning after the breakup, barely holding Steve together with spoonfuls of peanut butter and reassuring words that didn’t stick quite as hard as the peanut butter. They got even closer after that, and hardly a day passed where Jonathan wasn’t texting Steve or showing up at his apartment with take out and stories from whatever modeling shoot he was working on.

“And you think he’s gonna let that happen?”

“If he knows what’s good for him.”

Jonathan snorts. “Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go check on Nancy. She got into the weed earlier and she’s probably at the stage where the walls are squiggly and she can feel her lungs touching her ribs.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he nods. He knows what she’s like at that point. Jonathan needs to get her home before everyone knows what she’s like at that point.

The moment Jonathan is gone, Eddie is walking towards him.

Steve’s never felt more like prey in his life, never seen Eddie strut like this. He’s frozen. He forgets how to breathe.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” are the first words Eddie says to him in six months.

No hello. No awkward exchange of pleasantries.

Just a mild accusation and a piercing look.

“I wouldn’t be if I’d known you’d be here,” he retorts, deciding to match his energy. If Eddie is allowed to be at this party of a mutual friend’s mutual friend, then Steve is too. “Didn’t even know Ivy had your number.”

Ivy was one of Nancy’s friends from school, and Steve had been invited to quite a few of her parties over the last few years. When they were together, Steve always brought Eddie, but he didn’t know if Ivy and Eddie had ever even met.

“I know Ivy pretty well, actually,” Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pause.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So you’re…friends?” Steve asks even though he thinks he knows where this is going and he thinks he’s gonna be sick if he’s right.

“Yeah.” Eddie smirks. “Friends.”

“Oh.”

Steve has to abort whatever mission he thought he was on. This is gonna end with him crying in front of Eddie and everyone else at this stupid party that he came to because he’d had a rough week and just wanted to have a drink with friends and-

“Are you gonna be sick?” Eddie asks, reaching out to him as if that would even help.

“No!” Steve backs away. “I just need to head out. Got an early morning.”

“On a Sunday? You don’t work Sundays.”

“And how would you know?”

Steve needs to leave. He can’t engage in anything else with Eddie. He won’t recover.

“Because you wouldn’t have come at all if you had work in the morning. And everyone you would hang out with is here.” Eddie steps closer to him. “Unless something’s changed?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation of my schedule.”

Eddie seems to realize that Steve’s right, taking a step back.

“Right. That’s true. I guess.”

And suddenly Steve can see how uncomfortable Eddie is, how much courage and energy it took him just to walk up to Steve at all. He’s always been pretty easy to read, at least for Steve, but right now it’s like he’s made of glass.

“How you been?” Steve asks, ignoring the pull he feels to the door for the pull he feels to Eddie.

“Um, good. Yeah, great. Fantastic. You?”

Steve raises a brow at the response. Eddie’s never been fantastic a day in his life.

Except maybe that one time he ate Steve out on a patio chair by the pool and then fucked him in his parent’s hot tub and claimed that he’d never been happier in his entire life.

“I’ve been fine.”

Not a lie. He has been fine most of the time. Fine isn’t anything special, or anything good.

“You look…good.” Eddie settles on, as if he was going to say something else entirely. “Still going to the gym?”

“Not as often as I should,” Steve admits. He’s about to call this quits when he sees Jonathan giving him a thumbs up from the doorway. “Uh. I should actually probably head out though.”

“Right. Yeah. Sure. Want me to let Ivy know you had to go?”

Steve shouldn’t fucking push. He knows he’s gonna end up hurt worse if he gets any form of confirmation on what he thinks is going on.

“I’ll just text her. But I guess if you see her before you go…”

“I mean, yeah, I’m kinda…living here right now?” Eddie rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

Steve thinks he might pass out.

He’s living with a woman not even six full months after he broke up with Steve because Steve wanted to take the next step and move in together?

He feels like he’s going crazy.

“With Ivy?” Steve can barely hear his own voice, doesn’t even know if Eddie hears him until he responds.

“I couldn’t renew my lease so she offered to let me stay here for a few months while I looked for something else,” he explains, as if that clears anything up. As if that helps the jealous fire in Steve’s heart calm. “That’s the only reason I’m even here tonight. I was off and she needed an extra pair of eyes to make sure no one tried to drive home after drinking.”

“Well, I haven’t even been drinking.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“You think I’ve looked anywhere other than you since you walked in the door?”

Steve feels like his entire body is lifting above the floor, and he’s reminded that Eddie’s good at this. Flirting like he means it, using words but not wanting more than that.

That he may have feelings for Steve, but god forbid those feelings lead anywhere other than a bed or a date.

“Doesn’t seem appropriate to stare at me all night with your girlfriend in the next room.”

“Girlfriend? What? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Eddie seems genuinely confused, his brows furrowing as he looks around the room and back at Steve.

“Isn’t Ivy your girlfriend?”

“Ivy?! Ivy Jane? The woman who told me on day one of me living here that if she even so much as accidentally saw my dick she’d cut it off?” Eddie laughs, unamused. “She’s a friend at most. More of a useful annoyance.”

Steve is confused. Why did Eddie make it seem like there was more to it than that? Why couldn’t Eddie renew his lease? Why didn’t anyone tell him about any of this?

“Look, you probably shouldn’t head home on your own. I know you didn’t drink, but it’s still pretty late, and I know you walked here.” Eddie sighs. “Can I at least get you an Uber?”

“To go less than a mile?”

“Or I could walk you.”

“And then walk back alone?”

“You don’t have to argue with everything, you know,” Eddie grumbles. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”

“I didn’t know ex-boyfriends cared that much.”

It’s a low blow and Eddie’s physical withdrawal is immediate. Steve instantly feels bad.

No matter what happened between them, he knows Eddie. He knows he’s trying to be nice and all Steve’s doing is making that task more difficult.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I’m just surprised that you’d care this much when we haven’t even talked in months.”

“Steve, I’ll always care about you.”

It’s a knife to his chest.

Because that’s not even remotely close to what Eddie had said to him months ago when he was throwing his shit in a bag and running as fast as he could. It’s not how he made Steve feel when he told him they were done.

”I’m not gonna keep pretending this can end well for either of us.”

He’d made it pretty obvious he had no intention of loving Steve beyond the year they spent together, and Steve had no choice but to assume he’d been faking feelings for him to try to get over him.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s let tears fall until Eddie’s thumbs are brushing them away, his touch so soft it makes Steve want to sob.

Before he can say anything or push Eddie away, Eddie’s hand is on his lower back, guiding him down the hallway of the apartment.

He doesn’t fight it, even though alarm bells are ringing in his head telling him to pause and go home, maybe try to talk to Eddie when he’s calmed down from the shock of seeing him. The warmth of Eddie next to him is enough to silence any fears he has.

He’s sitting on Eddie’s bed. The room is surprisingly plain for a room that belongs to Eddie, but the sheets on the bed are scattered and one pillow looks more like a ball, so he knows it’s his. Eddie sleeps the same way he talks: constantly moving, shuffling around, trying to find comfort in touch.

“I’ll take the couch once everyone leaves. You probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” Eddie says from in front of him, keeping his hands to himself.

He probably shouldn’t, but if Eddie’s on the couch, doesn’t that leave him alone anyway?

“You can come get me if you need anything,” Eddie explains further. “And I can come check on you.”

“Right,” Steve’s voice is shaky. “But you could stay?”

Eddie’s eyes are scanning his face, always trying to see what Steve isn’t saying. He’s always been good about reading Steve.

“Is that what you want?” Eddie eventually asks.

Steve nods because he can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound like he’s desperate for more of Eddie’s touch.

He lays down and waits for Eddie to join him, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping for anymore. The best thing to do would be to tell Eddie he changed his mind and send him to the couch, the second best would probably be to go home. But what ends up happening is Eddie locks the bedroom door and slips his shoes off, strips his jeans down his legs, and slides into bed with him.

He doesn’t touch him at first, though the bed isn’t quite big enough for them to not accidentally brush arms as they find comfortable positions.

Steve lets his eyes close, even though he’s never felt more awake, even though he feels every breath Eddie takes as if it’s his own.

“I love you.”

Steve’s eyes shoot open at Eddie’s whispered confession.

They were together for a year and Eddie never said it. Steve didn’t even say it for fear of Eddie running. And when he finally did say it, when he had the nerve to ask him to move in with him, Eddie ran.

So, he couldn’t have possibly heard what he thought he just heard.

“I know it’s too late. I should’ve told you six months ago.” Eddie scoffed at his own words. “Actually, I should’ve told you when I realized it on our third date. There’s no excuse. You told me why you were hesitant to tell people how you felt and I should’ve known it would be harder for you than it would be for me.”

Steve turns on his side, eyes wide as he takes in the way Eddie’s eyes are slowly blinking up at the ceiling, fingers tapping anxiously against his own stomach.

“Why did you leave, then? If you loved me, why did you let me think you didn’t?”

Steve’s impressed with his sudden ability not to cry when he’d so easily let tears fall earlier.

Eddie turns his head. His fingers still. The room is silent, but Steve can feel the vibrations of the music playing down the hall.

“I don’t know.”

It’s anticlimactic, and not good enough, but Steve believes him. He believes that Eddie truly doesn’t know his own thought process behind walking away from what could’ve been a good future for them.

“Why say it now?”

“Because I needed you to leave here in the morning knowing that what you were asking for wasn’t unreasonable. I needed you to know that your feelings were fine, and that nothing you did pushed me away. You deserve the chance to move on properly.”

Steve can feel his heart in every nerve ending of his body, pulsing to a wild beat, a dangerous tempo that he isn’t sure he wants to control. Eddie always made him feel like this, like he was one step away from jumping off a ledge, like he was flying through the air without a parachute.

“I don’t want to move on.”

Steve crushes his lips to Eddie’s, letting out a pained groan that’s muffled by Eddie’s lips pushing against his own. It’s not soft, not even gross the way their kisses got when they’d been sweaty and pushing each other to their limits for hours.

It was forgiveness and yearning and need wrapped into a single point of contact.

But once Eddie’s hands found Steve’s hips, all he wanted was to feel Eddie everywhere.

“Missed you,” he admits breathlessly.

“Missed you, too, Stevie. So much,” Eddie gasps against his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for them to strip out of their clothes, for Eddie’s mouth to find all of Steve’s sensitive spots, for bruises to be left in places that will be hard to cover up tomorrow. They’re both panting, trying to hide moans against the pillows and sweaty skin.

Steve laughs when Eddie’s lips trail down to the head of his leaking cock.

Eddie looks up, frowning as if he’s disappointed that he was interrupted.

“What could you possibly be laughing at?”

“How easy it was to get me in your bed. Did you know I was coming tonight?” He does his best not to sound accusatory, but a small part of him worries that Eddie’s plan all night has been to get him naked. It wouldn’t be the first time those were his intentions.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” Eddie nips at his thigh. “But if I did, I would’ve planned this exact outcome, yeah.”

Steve slaps at his shoulder but moans when Eddie’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue lapping up the precum that had been gathering for a while.

They get lost in it, in being able to touch each other, in finally having what they’d both missed for so long. Steve’s hands hardly ever leave Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s tongue is like a magnet to every inch of his skin.

He kisses down his length, he sucks bruises into his thighs, he sucks his cock until Steve’s trembling under him, saying his name over and over. Begging, praying, he didn’t even know anymore.

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s close until Eddie’s asking if he wants to finish like this or with Eddie inside him.

“Want you inside, but I don’t know if I can last that long,” Steve pouts. Now that he feels the coil in his belly and the flush of his chest and neck, he knows there’s no way he’ll make it through Eddie stretching him. He’s half-tempted to just have Eddie fuck him with no prep, but Eddie will never go for it. “C’mere?”

Eddie kisses his way up Steve’s body, biting a nipple and licking sweat from his collarbone before settling perfectly between his legs. He’s smiling down at Steve like he could stay there all night, like he didn’t just get interrupted in the middle of one of the best blowjobs of Steve’s life.

“Can we just…” Steve tilts his hips up so his cock rubs against Eddie’s. Both of them groan as Eddie hangs his head. “Like this?”

Eddie nods before resting his forehead against Steve’s and letting out a breath.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he whispers, like it’s a secret that he’s been getting off making Steve feel good.

“Me either. ‘S okay.”

Their cocks brush together as Eddie leans down on his elbows. Steve lifts his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him down so there’s a constant friction between them.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you,” Steve’s breath catches on his words.

Eddie’s hips move faster, and Steve does his best to meet every thrust. They’re in sync as if they were never apart, and Steve thinks this is all he needs for the rest of his life.

He knew that before, when they were together, and after Eddie left. But feeling it now, with Eddie above him, surrounding him, practically sharing his breaths, he knows Eddie’s it for him.

That thought is what sends him over the edge.

He cups Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pulls him into a searing kiss, one that’s more tongue and teeth than lips, more passion than finesse.

But it sends Eddie over the edge, too.

After, when they’ve stopped shaking and Eddie used his t-shirt to wipe up their mess, Steve taps his fingers against Eddie’s chest in a familiar pattern.

“Since when do you know the beat to a Metallica song?” Eddie asks, smirking down at him.

“It’s what you always used to tap on my arm when we were falling asleep. I didn’t know it was Metallica,” Steve yawns as he speaks, exhaustion seeping through every pore of his body.

“You remembered that?”

“Mhm. Remember everything.” He yawns again and lets his eyes close.

He’s pretty sure Eddie starts tapping a new pattern on his arm as he drifts to sleep. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’ll have plenty of time to learn this one, and the next one, and whatever else the future brings for them.

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel. 

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish. 

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise. 

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet. 

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower. 

Purposeful. 

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?” 

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give. 

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone. 

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. “How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth. 

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long.  You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen. 

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half. 

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room. 

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control. 

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent. 

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[boyfhee]

ㅤ ꣑୧ㅤㅤ:ㅤCANDLELITㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ성혼

﹙10097﹚ SYNOPSIS . . . the dating scene sucks, especially when the only person you want to be with is your roommate.

꣑୧ GENRE . . . roommate au, 'i hate them but they're hot' kind of energy

꣑୧ WARNINGS . . . profanities, drinking i mean lots of drinking we need alcohol shortage here, sunghoon smokes, mentions of one night stands, one very suggestive make out scene in the fourth section, undertones of cheating but not from sunghoon or reader, implications of sex although it's very light

꣑୧ NOTES . . . hi ( _ _; ) drowning in nervousness as i'm posting this. it's my first long fic after months ... i think the last one was in may or june 23 ... so please be nice >< don't know why but this didn't turn out how i wanted it to and it's definitely not one of my proudest works, but i hope u guys like it nonetheless huhu TT happy reading and please rb and drop feedback, it's highly appreciated ^_^

001. WHERE THERE’S HEAVEN THERE’S HELL

sunghoon is spiralling again. 

a part of it is because of the endless assignments from classes, but that’s no news. he knows it’s his fault for procrastinating and waiting till two days before the due date to even think about working on them— unlike jake who somehow attends classes probably four times a week and is seen in the football fields instead, and still manages to be the first one to submit his essays. it’s admirable, annoying at most. when he sat down to do his sports science project three days before it was due, sunghoon realised why his professor gave them two months to finish it. 

but realising your mistakes and working on them to be a better version of yourself are two different things.

for one, sunghoon believes those assignments are useless. no one cares about the impact of sports on society, maybe except heeseung and jake but again, in sunghoon’s mind, those two are never important. second, he’s too perfect to be working on himself. sunghoon is the best version of himself. he was born the day his uncle died, and his dad inherited the entire chain of restaurants his family owns across the country. he’s too amazing to be worrying about getting a degree he can buy— he thinks the university should be honoured he’s choosing to study— but that’s simply because his mother doesn’t want him to turn out like his sister. 

back to the matter at hand— as he puts the beer can on the table and sits back on the couch, his eyes travel to the door yet again. seventh time in just a minute, he’s keeping a record of how you make him wait. 

if there’s one thing he hates is being irresponsible ( coming from the great king of irresponsibility himself. ) you said you’d be back by twelve, and it’s half past one in night and not a soul knows your whereabouts. thirteen texts, seven missed calls, his phone is at forty-one percent and sunghoon is at his limit. if it wasn’t for your mom he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about where you are and how you’ve been.

sunghoon is actually surprisingly obedient and well-mannered, as opposed to the popular belief. he gave you and your mother the whole tour of the apartment the day you moved in. even made some coffee which isn’t much but your mother had loved him. he could see it in the way she looked at him with those sweet eyes, holding his hands as if he was her own son, and asking him to look after you. 

‘please take care of my daughter,’ sunghoon thought he was getting married. instead of a wedding bell there were warning sirens going off. to this day he doesn’t know why she asked him that, minutes after she saw a dead cactus in the balcony that he killed by overwatering. he couldn’t even say no to her and just nodded, looking over at you briefly and noticing how you look like you were a bit embarrassed. sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s so serious about ‘taking care’ of you. he thought it would be easy, but you had to be devil’s favourite spawn and sunghoon happens to be your target.

however, he can���t take this anymore. he has a morning class and waiting till two am while drinking beer has done more damage to sunghoon than it should. he gets up from the couch with a sigh, leaving the empty cans unattended for a night as he makes a mental note to clean tomorrow. it isn’t until a click from the door stops him in his tracks. 

“i’m back,” your voice is quiet, a yawn following immediately after your words as you look down while taking off your shoes. you’ve been drinking again, sunghoon can tell it from a mile away. 

“you’re late,” he speaks over the silence, hands on his torso as he’s giving you those squinted eyes and doubtful looks. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he would assume you fucked someone at the club with how messy you look at the moment.

“yeah well, we had to take gigi to the hospital,” your lazy voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. you stumble towards your room, a hiccup followed soon after by the same quiet and slurred tone. “she ate something weird,”

he huffs at your words, knowing it would very well be just another excuse. “you could’ve at least texted,”

“my phone died,”

“i’m sure your friends would be happy to lend you their phone,” he pauses when he feels himself getting a bit annoyed. a soft sigh falls off his lips as he looks down at the tiled floor before looking up and speaking in a much calmer voice. “i’m just saying it’s not exactly safe to be out alone on the streets this late at night,”

“i wasn’t alone,” that piques his interest. “jay drove me back,”

and sunghoon felt his whole world stop. “jay?”

“yeah, jay, park jongseong,” your voice is surprisingly sweet when you take his name and it bothers sunghoon for some reason. his face scrunches up when you bite back a smile, hoping it’s the alcohol not because of what he thinks it is. “he’s nicer than i thought,”

sunghoon is not unfamiliar with the name park jongseong.

he hears it every day on and off the campus, more often than he likes. first things first, he’s just as popular as jake, for being american, which brings sunghoon to the question— why in the world would he leave america to study in korea when jay could have attended one of the ivy leagues with his face and money?

and the second and more important question, why in the world is park jongseong dropping you home at two in the night?

sunghoon only watches you in disbelief and astonishment as you stumble to your room, mumbling something incoherently. your words ring in his ear like sirens. ‘he is better than you’ jay is better than sunghoon. he scoffs almost offensively in your direction. that has to be the biggest lie of the twenty-first century.

he follows you to your room, reaching out to grab your arms when you almost trip but you manage to balance yourself. he opens the door and turns on the lights for you. “why were you with him to begin with?”

“oh, you don’t know?” and you turn around with eyes wide open as he shakes his head like a deer in the headlight. “he asked me out,” 

sunghoon didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night. 

it’s your fault, clearly. had you been back earlier on the time, nothing would’ve happened. and jay— sunghoon sights at the thought of him, eyes narrowing as he grits on his pen as if he’s going to break it into two. 

“dude, are you hungry?” jake pokes sunghoon by his shoulder, dragging the latter out of his trail of thoughts. 

“what?” sunghoon shoots a blank look, one that makes his friend sigh in concern. afterall, it’s not everyday he sees sunghoon chewing on a pen. “i’m not,”

“you’ve been out of it since the morning,”

and sunghoon has been out of it since jay’s name fell from your lips. 

he’s not your friend, definitely not the first guy you’ve called by his name after sunghoon. but something doesn’t sit right. even after tossing and turning in bed for the whole night, he can’t figure out what bothers him more— the fact you said jay is better than him, or the fact that he asked you out on a date.

it’s the first one, he convinces himself. who you date is none of his business, he can’t be arsed enough to care about your love life or relationship status. ( although, he does care a little because he’s nosy. ) what bothers him more is that jay is, to put it in simple words, a player. all that face and no empathy for emotions is a waste, and to think you don’t know this— or maybe you do and yet still chose to go out with him, is beyond sunghoon’s comprehension. 

“what do you think about jay?” he asks abruptly, catching jake’s attention, looking at him a little too intently for an answer. 

“he’s a nice guy,” a casual reply before he gets back to his assignment before jake looks back at sunghoon with newly found interest. “he turned in my spanish essay last week, oh and drove me back from the bar a few days ago after you ditched me. why?”

sunghoon simply shakes his head, getting back to his books even though his focus is nowhere near studies. at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s jay distracting him or you. even your words keep playing over and over again in the back of his head. jay and nice in the same sentence doesn’t seem fit. sure, he helps his friends and drops his girl back home, but that’s only three days before there’s a new girl in his arms. 

002. RUNNING OUT OF SANITY

sunghoon doesn’t hear the door click open when you come back from your classes, too busy in the balcony while humming a tune that you recognise immediately. you take off your shoes, noticing how he taps his foot along with the melody, and it’s quiet in the apartment, apart from the sound of traffic and wind rustling through the trees around.

“i don’t like people who smoke,” smoking is not on your list of likes, but you find yourself next to sunghoon whenever he’s with a cigarette. just like now, when you return from yet another one of your dates— or meet-ups as you prefer to call it right now— with jay. it wasn’t really planned. you bumped into him after classes and he was on his way back home, so you asked him for a coffee. 

he almost jumps at your sudden voice but manages to compose himself, scowing at the distaste in your expression before scoffing, the cigarette still dancing between his lips. “good think, i’m not looking forward to be liked by you,”

he studies the frown on your face, glares as if your eyes are shooting daggers in his direction. it’s amusing to him how easy it is to get on your nerves. he leans against the metal railings, hair falling over his forehead. his eyes stay on your for a few seconds before he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, putting it away from his mouth and blowing out the smoke in your directions. he laughs mockingly when you step back, fanning out the smoke with your hands, cursing under your breath.

“are you crazy?!” you exclaim in annoyance, coughing slightly at his poor attempt at entertainment. your frown deepens when he mumbles a quiet apology although not meaning it, from the looks of it, and lifts the cigarette back to his lips. 

“you’re back early,” he states casually, tapping the cigarette butt and watching the ash fall down from the balcony before a taunting chortle falls off his lips. “did jay dump your ass or something?”

your nose scrunches up at his actions, although mostly at the tobacco you can still smell in your air. you look down at the road, watching a mercedes passing by. “no, he had to go somewhere so he left early,”

“i knew it! he’s good for nothing,” and he drops the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot even though at the back of his mind, he knows you’re going to yell at him for cleaning that up. “what kind of guy can’t even spend time with his girlfriend?”

“we’re not dating,”

“that’s worse!” he emphasises, and a pause follows as he looks at you with a confused expression. “wait— didn’t you say he asked you out?”

“he did, but he said he wants to wait until exams are over,” there’s a hint of displeasure in your voice. his eyes travel down to your fingers, especially the ring you’re fiddling with before they’re back on your face when you speak again. “we just decided to hang out,”

he practically scoffs at your words, quite literally in disbelief. a knowing sigh comes out of his mouth as he stands straight, this time standing with his back against the railing, feeling the cold metal though his thin white t-shirt. a part of him wants to laugh at your stupidity and point at how naive you are, while another part of him wants to find jay and beat him to pulp. he doesn’t know why there’s anger pooling in his stomach at the mere thought of jay just messing around with you. 

“what a sick bastard,” he huffs with a tincture of annoyance in his tone. “how much do you want to bet he’s playing with you?”

“you’re the one who’s sick,” and even though it clicks with him that you’re referring to a few minutes earlier when he smoked all in your face, sunghoon still frowns when you call him sick. “he’s just prioritising his studies, there’s nothing wrong with that. at least he doesn’t smoke while being all up my face,”

you two just bask in silence after that.

he doesn’t have much to say— actually he does, but he doesn’t know how to put it in a decent, coherent way. of course, your reaction won’t be the most pleasant if he told you he wants to punch jay’s good for nothing handsome face. he wonders what you’re thinking when he looks over at you. you seem happy whenever you talk about your supposed ‘future boyfriend,’ yet it’s evident that you’re upset. he likes to think you’re having your doubts too. it's reassuring to him for some reason— because that’s good for you, of course. if you’re upset, you have your doubts, and if you have your doubts you might not fall victim to whatever sick game jay is playing. 

“oh, actually, he doesn’t smoke,” but then you speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if comparing him to jay before giving him a mocking smile. “he’s better than you,”

those words ring in his mind for a good while. 

you go back inside and he hears you shut the door to your room as an annoyed sigh falls off his lips. hearing that jay is nice from jake was another thing, but hearing to say he’s better than him leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. and he doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way, these little changes in how he usually is, it’s new. it’s frustrating him out. 

it isn’t until his phone vibrates that he’s dragged out of his ocean of thoughts. his brows furrow when he notices the time, having realised that he basically wasted the entire noon even though he didn’t attend classes after giving heeseung an excuse that he’s sick. his eyes squint at the sender, and then a groan escaping his lips when he opens to read it. 

noh chaeun  4:15pm hoon! my last two classes have been cancelled are you up for some coffee?

sunghoon doesn’t reply, rather leaving his classmate’s messages on seen, too bothered by his inner turmoil to spend time with her. it’s not like him to be this way, to be so bothered over something that doesn’t concern him. you’re definitely not someone so significant and jay is definitely not the first guy you’re with. in fact, he has seen you kiss that guy from one of your classes— as much as he hates to recall that incident now— and had sneaked up to tell your mother about it over the phone when she had called you.

you’ve never had a serious relationship, not after meeting him. in his head, you always came back to him and he’d be lying if he hadn’t joked about it with his friends during the initial few weeks after you had moved in. when he had mentioned to jake that you’re pretty and his friend had teased him a few days later, saying his ‘crush’ was with this other guy, sunghoon, did in fact, say he doesn’t care because you always come back to him; or rather his apartment, actually, but whatever fits the joke. 

that day, he had a good laugh out of it and the joke died back then itself, more so after he started complaining about you to his friends. your habits, your actions, the things you say that tick him off, your quirky and quick remarks— everything. perhaps, even about your habit of arriving late on weekends from parties and ruining his sleep because you forget the key most of the time, so he has to wake up and open the door for you, but not guys, never guys. 

it hurts his head to even try and figure it out, to find the reasoning behind the pang in his chest every time you mention jay. he likes to think it’s just harmless competition although for no reason, even though both of them have done plenty of things to piss each other off just for the fun of it. sunghoon thinks he can live with it and walks back inside to the living room, until he sees you walking out of your room on phone with someone, the name of he who shall be mentioned rolling off your tongue again, and he finally pulls out his phone with a frustrated sigh. 

sunghoon  4:21pm sure, i’ll pick you up in ten

“actually, my mom wants to invite your family over for dinner this weekend,” the girl in front of him speaks with a smile after muttering a quiet thank you to the waiter after he gets their order. “she’s very grateful  for the donation your dad made for our art gallery and wants to thank properly,”

“talk to my parents, then,” it’s a simple reply, too bland and forced for her liking.

sunghoon hasn’t spared her a single look in the past ten minutes that they’ve been sitting together at the table. firstly, he doesn’t know why he drove to a restaurant when she asked for a coffee. it’s not even close to dinner time, and the awkward yet sweet smile on her face didn’t make it better for him, so he ordered starters and drinks to drag their little impromptu dinner out. 

“sunghoon, to be honest,” chaeun tries to strike up a conversation again, despite the constant lack of effort from his side. “i want you—”

“hey, isn’t that jongseong?” and he cuts her off immediately, finger pointing outside the glass panes beside them as he stares in the direction behind her with brows knit together in shock. “who’s that with her?”

“jongseong?” she repeats the name before turning her head, forming an ‘o’ when she spots a familiar figure through the multitude on the streets. “ah, that’s myung jihye. she has been pursuing him for a while. i guess he finally agreed,”

“they’re dating?!” his voice is full of surprise and disbelief unlike hers, so seemed to be happy for the girl instead. he stares outside with a heavy silence as the couple disappears between the crowd before looking at the girl in front of him.

“oh, i wouldn’t say that…i don’t know but it’s possible they are.” it doesn’t miss her attention how sunghoon’s fingers tighten around the fork. “everybody in our major knows jihye has crush on him and they’re probably a thing by now,”

and he wishes you were here with him right now so that he could show you the true colours of the dear guy you’ve been going out with, the one who’s supposedly ‘better’ than him. he wants you to realise that his words weren’t false and he isn’t sick, after all, and if you’d cry, he would be down to tell you it’s not the end of the world. that there are a hundred other guys better than jay, ones who won’t even breathe in front of another woman, who’d treat you better— hell, i can treat you better if you ever give me a chance— and then a pause in his train of thoughts.

he looks at chaeun, who’s looking back at him with a perplexed look and her own set of questions. his mind replays those words yet again, and he screams internally.

what the heck?!

surprisingly enough, sunghoon has been thinking about jay for the whole evening now, obviously not in a good way. his eyes keep travelling to the knife stand on the kitchen island occasionally and every single time, he has to convince himself that murder is not the right answer to anything. 

for some reason, he can’t stop imagining your smiles while on date with jay. not that he has ever seen those— wish i could— as he slaps himself out of his state of mind yet again. not only that man is playing with you but on jihye who’s apparently his girlfriend? he lets out the ugliest scoff known to mankind, because in sunghoon’s head, jay is a sick joke made by biology.

he waits for you to return from your shopping spree for about an hour, having beer as a company. he tries to stay awake although his eyes get droopy, and then every ounce of sleep leaves his body when he hears the door unlock. 

“yn,” he practically jumps out of the couch, it almost scares you. he accidentally bumps into the living room table on the way, knocking an empty can of beer to the floor but too busy to bother picking it up. “i have to tell—” his eyes go down to the eleven shopping bags in your hands, as he counts them. “— wait, what did you shop so much for?” 

“oh, i have to attend a family wedding next month,” his chest feels warm when he sees you smiling and looking so excited, and it’s making him go crazy on the inside because he doesn’t know what is happening to him. for some reason, he starts imagining you in a gown, like the one you wore for the fresher’s party, but then he forces his mind to get back to the point. “i’m thinking of asking jay to be my date,”

and his heart drops down to his stomach.

this has to be a fucking joke, and he tells himself. for a split second, he thinks he didn’t hear you properly. maybe you said jake because, well, jake did tweet a ‘date for rent’ form five months ago when he needed money to buy tickets for a post malone concert that cost more than his gentle monster glasses ( not that he got any money but at least they got a good laugh out of it. ) 

you remove your shoes and put the shopping bags on the couch before sitting down as well, letting out a heavy sigh. “you look like you saw a ghost,”

“a ghost would’ve been better,” he catches you looking at him when he mumbles under his breath, sort of grateful you didn’t hear him before sunghoon would rather not have another argument with you over how jay is not only a bad choice, he’s the worst choice. 

he looks over at you when you pull out your phone, fingers fluttering over the screen as you text someone with a giddy smile. he considers telling you what he had seen earlier, but god, he loved to see you smile like that. the way you press your lips together to suppress a grin, looking ever so happy as if you have won a lottery. he doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled like that at him, and it aggravates him even more when he realises that you probably smile like that every time you see jay. 

jay is getting everything he isn’t deserving of, and it pisses sunghoon off down to his bones. 

but again, he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. you look too happy for your own good, it pains him physically to even imagine your reaction when you’ll come to know the truth. and then he pulls himself together, telling himself that it is your fault in the first place to trust someone like jay and ignore the warning signs he was giving you. 

in the end, he leaves without having any further conversations with you, going to bed two hours earlier than usual even though he knows he isn’t going to get any sleep. sunghoon is convinced he’s losing his mind, faster than a day ago actually. he lets out a frustrated groan and covers himself with his blanket, hoping to catch some sleep. 

it’s going to be yet another long day tomorrow.

003. A CHANGE OF STANCE

sunghoon thinks you’re hot.

what the fuck?

“i asked something,” you remind, pulling him out of his trail of thoughts and he flinches slightly, making your brows furrow in confusion. “how do i look?”

“huh— what? oh,” he takes in your appearance again. hair down, make up done— you’re wearing your favourite lip tint? and the best dress he has seen you in so far, looking so mind blowing it actually blows his mind and short circuits his brain. 

even your favourite lip tint … sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s looking at your lips in the first place but little does he know he’s fucked. 

absolutely. completely. fucked.

nonetheless, he manages to compose himself, clearing his throat and sitting up ever so elegantly on the couch, legs crossed, the magazine still in his hands. “you look…t-terrific,” 

you can’t help but get even more confused at his words, wondering if it was a bad idea to even ask him for his opinion, even though you play along. “like in a good way or a bad way?”

“in a terrific way,” he blurts out, eyes wide open as panic settles in slowly inside his stomach, and he’s stuttering, shocked, surprised, fucked, again. “you look terrific in a terrific way…so terrifically terrific in the most terrific way possible,” 

“are you high?” 

well, he would say he is! never in the two years that he has known you did sunghoon think he’d find himself floored, figuratively, and speechless, literally, at the sight of you. and he’s not saying you look bad on other days. you look good, in fact. good as in plain and presentable, but never in a good good way and definitely not in a hot way, of course. 

“anyway, i’m going out. receive my parcel for me if it arrives,” you move to put on your shoes, taking a few seconds to pick between the two you think would suit your outfit. for a moment, you consider asking him to help you choose— as you look at him up and down peripherally, and he looks terrified. and you shrug it off, grabbing one of your loafers.

“where are you going?” he asks after a good minute of silence, sounding calmer than earlier as he gets off the couch and walks up to you. his nose scrunches up in disapproval as your hands move to one of your jimmy choos for a brief second, before you decide to go back to your initial pick.

“date,” he takes a moment to register your words, despite this happening many times.

a date. he scoffs softly, looking away, arms crossed. 

a date, again. sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck. 

“with jay,” you continue, this time with a sweet smile on your face that makes his heart flutter for some reason. maybe, he does give a fuck. 

now, sunghoon should feel bad for his fellow friend of a friend because he’s on a date with you, but instead he wants to snap his neck in two. the name is starting to give him an ick— jay this, jay that. you’re hanging out with jay, having coffee with jay, going on a date with jay, shopping with jay, next would be going to bed with jay— he pauses immediately, shaking his head. he doesn’t really like the sound of that.

“whatever,” he tells himself when you walk out of that door, looking all pretty and excited. he doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up over a date, that too with someone who— according to sunghoon and chaeun— is dating someone else. he would pay to see you back home all miserable and he would point fingers at you and laugh, saying he told you already while you had your conscience and rationality clogged up with the possibility of getting dicked down. 

but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on a date with jay fucking park. and you’re looking hot. 

he sighs, slouching back on the couch, looking outside at the bright blue skies and then sighs again. he needs to be lobotomized.

it’s three in the noon and sunghoon is drowning himself in misery and pity. and soju.

a glass after another and then another, along with two empty bottles already on the table. even the owners are giving him a weird look and heeseung can only let him ruin his reputation so much.

“there, there,” the senior takes the half empty bottle of soju from his hand and puts it aside, sighing pitifully at sunghoon. “that’s enough for today. you need to stop drinking,”

“heeseung,” sunghoon looks up at the guy in front of him, looking horribly pitiful, eyes a bit unfocused from the alcohol settling in his system. “do you know yn?”

and heeseung pauses for a few moments, not knowing what prompted him to ask this question. more so when you and heeseung went to the same highschool and even were in the music club. he nods slightly in doubt, raising his glass to his lips. “of course,”

“do you think he’s pretty?”

“of course,”

“do you think she’s hot?”

“of course,” it takes heeseung quite a few seconds to respond and sunghoon sort of wants to punch him in the face for agreeing because he feels a certain way when others find you hot— but he would claim it’s soju giving him heartburns. “why are you even asking this suddenly?”

“she went on a date with jay,” he responds in the most miserable and sullen voice known to mankind. his shoulders practically slouching at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him with incoherent whines falling off his lips.

“so what?” jake interjects, beckoning the owner for yet another bottle for soju. it was necessary, as heeseung had warned earlier while arriving at the restaurant, considering sunghoon’s impromptu text about wanting to meet up. 

“jake, did you hear what i said? she’s on a date with jay. park. jong. seong,” the youngest spells out every syllable, sitting up straight as he gets defensive. “she thinks he’s madly in love with her or something but she’s wrong! the day i went out with chaeun, i saw him with jihye and guess what? chaeun said everyone knows they’re a thing but apparently, yn doesn’t know this. i’ve told her so many times that he is not worth it but she won’t understand she’s fucking dumb oh my god,”

and…silence.

absolute fucking maddening silence that made sunghoon go even more insane before jake finally decides to speak, albeit in disbelief. 

“that monologue was unnecessary,” the foreigner pours in another glass for the three of them, filling them up completely, knowing this is going in a new direction yet a one that has been anticipated by both him and heeseung. “besides, since when do you care about her?”

“she’s my roommate,”

“you like her,” heeseung exclaims, and silence follows again for a few seconds before sunghoon gasps scandalously, slamming his glass down on the table which turns a few heads in their direction as jake mutters an embarrassed apology for it.

“i don’t,” sunghoon speaks in a voice much calmer than his previous tone, even leaning in towards the table to put emphasis on his words. jake pours himself another glass, scoff at his words while shaking his head mockingly which only pisses him off more.

“i knew this would happen,” heeseung continues, stating it as a matter of fact while nudging jake to pour him a glass as well. “saw this coming from a mile away when you cried over her going on a blind date the last time you got drunk,”

he can’t point out when that must’ve happened, but he doesn’t refute his words, simply letting his eyes travel across the room for a few moments. the frown on his lips deepens when he meets jake’s knowing gaze as he gets defensive once again. “i’m telling you, i don’t like her,”

“you said that about hello kitty but she’s everywhere in your room now,” he turns his phone with the screen up when he feels jake’s eyes on it, or particularly on the hello kitty sticker on his phone cover as the boy nudges him for another glass. “go on, you’ll need it.”

and sunghoon does, drinking more than he usually does thanks to jake filling his glass again and again for the sake of his sob story. the cab drops him in front of his apartment and he stumbles his way to the elevator. the silence sobers him out for some reason as he leans against the walls of the elevator and thinks about you.

perhaps you’re still with jay, sharing smiles and stories, kisses if you’re brave enough. he likes to think you are not, that you would chicken out— it makes him feel better about himself. he imagines you holding hands with him and then shrugs that thought off his mind just as quickly, huffing at the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth as he walks out of the elevator once it reaches his floor.

sunghoon planned to take a shower and sleep, but every thought water downs to nothing when he spots you crouching next to the door with knees pressed up to your chest. he can’t see your face, but he knows you’re sad, and it makes him stop in front of you, his heart accelerating when you look up at him with glistening eyes.

you look miserable.

and sunghoon has no reaction. he’s frozen, hands on his side as he stares at you. he was supposed to laugh at you for your stupidity. but you look so utterly sad and heart broken, god, he wants to punch jay in his throat. yet again, every single thought leaves his mind when his eyes fall back on your face, his hands instinctively opening out to you as he speaks in a voice as soft as a feather.

“let’s go inside,”

004. CANDLELIT 

“he said it was a bet,” you speak over the silence, fiddling with your fingers. you look up at sunghoon— who’s sitting with legs crossed in front of you while you’re curled up in one corner of the couch. “and that he never meant to drag it out for so long but he didn’t know how to tell me,”

“a bet?” he scoffs bitterly, looking away for a fraction of a second before his eyes are back on you. “what an asshole,” 

it’s not the first time sunghoon has said that. in fact, asshole is all and the only word he uses to define jay. you still think it was a stretch, for jay isn’t that bad. sure, he lied to you and played with your feelings— which you will never accept that you had feelings for him because you don’t want to look pathetic— but he wasn’t rude. well, at least he paid for all the three dates you two went on with the locations being some high end restaurants or bakeries. 

on the other hand, sunghoon stares at you in silence. his eyes trace over your sullen face, and then to your fingers. for a second, he considers holding your hands…roommates can do that at least, right? to comfort one another, but then he catches you looking up at him and he averts his gaze to a distant corner. “don’t start crying now!”

“i’m not! i didn’t even like him that much…” and he can’t help but suppress his smile at the pout on your face as you refuse to look at him. it’s adorable, he never thought he would ever say that, but it’s true. your mannerisms are cute, you’re cute, and it’s eating his brain cells.

“is that so? you talked about him like you two were in love or something,”

“stop it!”

he stares at you quietly for a few seconds again. even though you’re being defensive out of embarrassment right now, trying to prove to him that you’re not heartbroken, sunghoon knows you’ll be crying the moment you’re behind the closed doors of your room. on other days, he wouldn’t care so much. not more than giving a few pats on a back and telling you to suck it up despite the concern in his voice. today, however, he feels differently.

you got played. it’s your heart that’s broken. you feel like a fool, and yet sunghoon is sitting in front of you, trying to find words amidst awkwardness and hesitation. his heart feels heavy for you. it’s unfathomable on his part.

he suddenly remembers the day you mentioned that jay is better than him. he almost scoffs at that, again. well, you might harbour feelings for the american guy but at least sunghoon never had you holding back your tears. and he swears it would never come to that, if you ever have feelings for him because sunghoon would be a better boyfriend— and then he comes back to his senses as soon as those words register inside his brain, cheeks heating up at the sudden thought before he clears his throat. 

“do you want ramen?” he manages to change the topic ever so swiftly, getting up from the couch and already walking to the kitchen without waiting for your response. apparently, getting away from you would ease his heartbeat, although hearing your voice has just as much effect on him as your presence or a mere thought of you.

“are you cooking?”

he lets out a breathy laugh at your words, getting two packs of ramen from the shelf. “of course, do you think i’d ask you to cook when you look like you went through a divorce and lost the custodies of all your three kids?” 

you frown at his words, although ending up laughing at them just a second later. it’s hard to not laugh at how silly he is sometimes, if you ignore his annoying tendencies. sunghoon puts the water to boil, fighting back a smile at the sound of your laughter. it’s better than seeing you all sad over a guy who doesn’t deserve you.

you get off the couch as well, making your way to the kitchen, wanting to help him since he listened to your sob story. it’s quiet, and you hear slight rumbling outside as you take a quick look at the weather outside through the windows and then within a few seconds, thunder pierces through the silence hanging in the room. 

sunghoon flinches visibly, freezing in his stance before the sound of heavy rain fills the kitchen. he turns on the electric stove and it blows out. all the lights in the apartment go out, darkness settling in and disturbed just as quickly as the room fills with bright flashes of light, illuminating your face for a short second before it’s dark again.

“wait, i’ll get my phone— oh,” you reach out for the back pocket of your trousers, quickly get your phone and turn it on for the flash light before it powers off. “out of battery,”

he takes a blind step into the darkness when it thunders again and he notices you standing with your arms around yourself when the light surges in the room for a moment again. he hopes you won’t push him away if he puts his arm around you, but then you two bump into each other. a quiet apology finds its way out of your lips, and he can tell you’re flustered. 

“where are the candles?” he asks to distract you from the fact that he’s holding your hand and pulling you aside gently, so you don’t crash into each other again. your hands feel oddly warm in this cold weather, and it only flutters his heart even more.

“second shelf from the right i think,” your voice is interrupted by thunder again and your hands instinctively tighten around his fingers. and then a loud thud follows, causing you to gasp slightly. “are you okay?”

“i can’t fucking see,” his voice is strained, oozing off pain as he lets go off your hands. you open your mouth to speak before he bumps into something again. something falls off the counter, perhaps the spoon by the sound of it and he apologises shortly after. it’s harder to navigate around his own apartment, more than he had imagined.

sunghoon manages to find the candles, setting them on the counter with pure intuition before lighting one of it up with the lighter he always carries around in his pocket. he turns around, almost bumping into you and before he could say anything, he sees you pressed up against one of the counters, face illuminated by the dim candle light. 

you’re close, too close, he’s afraid you can hear his heart going crazy at the proximity. his mind is telling him to step aside but he’s too lost looking in your eyes, ( as you are too ) with you looking so impossibly beautiful under the faint golden glow. 

“is this okay?” he whispers softly and you simply nod, not a word coming out of your mouth as you find yourself entranced by his face. sunghoon has always been aphrodite’s son, as his admirers would call him, and now that you’re seeing him so closely, you’re realising he’s something much more beautiful.

it doesn’t slip your attention how his gaze settles on your lips for a quick second, your body tensing up at the sudden movement. your breath hitches as he leans closer, dipping his head down. your heart is racing while he feels like his heart has stopped— it’s timeless, as he finds himself just a few centimetres away from your lips, not wanting to stop even though he gives you a chance to pull back, whispering softly, “can i?”

you nod. and sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his. 

it’s still at first, with your lips only pressed up together for a few seconds. it’s only a few seconds after he pulls back ever so slightly, and then tilts his head to the other side and goes in for another kiss, this time moving his lips slowly against yours. he feels you tense up for a brief while and then melting as you kiss him back, your fingers lacing around his tenderly. you flinch when it thunders again, breaking the kiss, but feeling shivers down your spine as you feel his breath on your lips. 

he takes a few seconds, fingers ghosting up your hands to rest on your waist, tugging you closer as he brushes his lips against yours. “focus on my lips,”

and he kisses you again, this time a bit more firmly, albeit it’s slow and gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a way that's both comforting and exciting. but as the moments pass, he presses in deeper, more insistently. he lets his body press more firmly against yours, his chest touching yours as his tongue gently teases at the seam of your lips. it was working, the way his lips move against yours, it calms your nerves from the thunder but lights them up again when he nibbles gently on your lower lip, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he continues to kiss you so fervently. 

it takes a passing second for you to realise what you’re doing. it surprises you, however not enough to pull back, or maybe the way his tongue feels against yours stops you from doing so. you’d be lying if you say you hadn’t thought of kissing him before— as early as two days after moving in. and now that you’re actually kissing him, everything feels like a fever dream.

he tucks your chin up with his fingers, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. he is a good kisser, sunghoon uses that to boast about himself, he has always been good at this— kissing, bragging, making your knees weak, and all you could do was melt into him wet and sloppy kisses that he plants on your skin. 

he dips his head down to your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pulling your blouse aside to get a better access to your collarbones and shoulders. it felt like his body has a mind of its own, and he’s only following right behind. when a soft gasp leaves your lips, he moves back to your lips again, wanting to swallow every little sound you make that makes his mind haywire. 

your breaths are heavy, hands around his neck with fingers grazing the skin of his nape. a movement that makes him moan softly in the kiss as he presses you against the counter, holding you between his arms. his hand that's resting on your hip moves up, tracing the curve of your waist and then sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin, lips curling up in a subtle smirk as he hears you gasp yet again. 

“sunghoon—” you pull back, getting a quick glance at his half-lidded eyes when the lightning from the thunderstorm fills the room. he can still feel your laboured breathing on his lips and it does nothing but pull him in even more. after all, sunghoon would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine doing this with you.

“we’ll stop,” he pecks your lips, then trailing his lips down your jawline and to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin. “when the candle goes out,” 

005. WHERE THE LINE FADES

when sunghoon wakes up the next morning, he’s met with cold empty sheets on the side and the memories from last night start flooding his mind. his heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of you, especially how you were last night and every time his name fell off your lips in bliss and pleasure— he would’ve preferred waking up to you rather than emptiness. 

he lays idly for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling, looking for where it all had started. was it the day you told him jay asked you out? maybe not, he doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person. it must’ve been when you asked for his opinion on your outfit, he tells himself, you looked too good to be true that day. a few seconds more and he sits up with a soft groan, seemingly unable to find answers to any of his questions.

the weather seems to have improved as he notices the cosy sunlight outside. he slips on this shirt before walking down to the shared bathroom, rubbing his eyes softly and brushing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. he puts his hand on the door knob and looking up in surprise when it opens on the other side.

“oh,” the slight hint of shyness on your face doesn’t escape his gaze, just like how enchanting you look this early in the morning with hair wet from the shower. you bite slightly on your lower lip before the awkwardness in the air is disturbed by your voice. “morning,”

actually, it must’ve all started the day you moved in.

“morning,” he replies back, rubbing his nape and looking away. the weight of questions lingering around makes it hard for him to look in your eyes. “would you like to have breakfast?”

you nod and follow him into the kitchen after making a short trip to your room. 

you steal a few glances at him while eating your breakfast, feeling your palms sweat at the thought of bringing it up to him. you avoid it for a few minutes, tossing the question around in your head while trying to make small talks about the ketchup, as bad as it could get. it feels a bit suffocating until you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. “so about last night—” 

“it was a mistake,” he cuts you off immediately, a heavy pause following shortly after. he looks up in your eyes for the first time since the morning. “let’s just forget it,”

and his words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. it could’ve been just another one night stand for you had it not been with sunghoon— your roommate, the person you see everyday, the person who managed to give you butterflies the day you moved in. your fingers tighten around the spoon and you consider arguing back for a moment before you push that idea further back in your head.

it could be just another thing added to the lists of things that have been buried, like the time you and sunghoon almost kissed in the elevator last year.

“right,” you nod quietly, convincing yourself that it’s not a big deal. that he’s just another guy in your life like jay. actually, you don’t feel like wanting to compare them anymore. you don’t know where the line marking the difference fades. “of course, yeah,”

you don’t even like the sound of that.

“yeah,”

you don’t wait another minute before leaving your unfinished breakfast on the table and going to your room. his eyes follow your movements, conscience nudging him to chase after you. he contemplates it for a while, and then you walk out with your bag. “i’ll see you after classes,”

and then sunghoon doesn’t see you for the rest of the morning.

or the day, in fact. usually, you two end up bumping into each other at least once, but sunghoon doesn’t see you around for the whole day. he skips spanish, deciding to go back to his apartment earlier than usual. he turns on the tv, deciding to watch a football watch with beer on the side while waiting for you. an hour passes, then another, and another.

there’s no sign of you.

it isn’t until he rings up a few of your friends that he hears that you’re staying over at giselle’s for the night. he wouldn’t blame you, couldn’t, not after everything that went down a night ago. you needed some space and so did he, but somewhere inside he wondered if he should’ve been honest with you when you brought up that topic during breakfast instead of saying the first thing that came to his mind and dismissing it.

but, he dismisses it again, letting you be on your own for as long as you need, knowing you’d come back soon.

which you do, the very next day, much to his surprise. he had expected you to avoid him for at least a week. he notices the way you look when you return early in the morning, tired and exhausted as if you hadn’t got a single ounce of sleep. there’s silence engulfing him but you walk to your room before he could even open his mouth to speak. and then you ignore him for the rest of the day.

he starts feeling annoyed at some point, trying to come up with a reason for your actions. he tries striking up conversations with you and you give short responses, or just nod. when you walk away without answering him when he asked about your day, sunghoon wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back for a second, but he dismisses that idea just as soon as it pops up in his head. he doesn’t even realise how quickly time passes in silence, not until he returns from heeseung’s apartment after spending two nights and one day with him and jake and checks his phone, realising it’s already close to being a week till you’re gone radio silent. he notices a few texts, mostly his study group that have been planning meet-ups to study, one that he rarely attends. his eyes especially squint in confusion at the texts from your mother, saying she had been trying to get in touch with you but getting no response. 

he was on his way to his room when he heard the door unlock. a pause, the click of the doorknob strikes through the silence, followed by your footsteps. he takes a few seconds to sort out his thoughts before speaking. “your mom texted me since you weren’t picking up her phone,”

“my phone died,” you give a simple response, almost too quickly for his liking. he lets his eyes follow your movements as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting it on the couch. 

it takes him back to the day you told him about jay asking you out. 

it was exactly the same— you arrived late, your phone had died. he was asking the same questions, albeit laced with annoyance. today, it’s hesitation, maybe slight doubt. sunghoon can’t stop you from seeing jay, but the idea of you being with him bothers him more than expected. so, he follows up with yet another question. 

“where have you been?” he asks, wanting to maintain a casual demeanour even though his heart is pounding in his chest just from being near you. he isn’t expecting any response, actually, however he’s met with surprise when you actually reply. 

“with jay,” the words fall from your mouth as if you’re used to them, used to saying his name. there’s an awkward pause before you clarify. “we had dinner together. he wanted to apologise properly,”

“that’s— that’s great,” he manages to squeeze out, but sunghoon thinks jay could’ve left you alone instead of meeting you if he wanted to apologise so bad.

you definitely had feelings for jay, even though they didn’t go as deep for you to come home sobbing your eyes out the day you learnt the truth. to sunghoon, that is enough of a reason to hate him even more. just the mere thought of your heart sinking whenever you’d even think of jay made him fist his hands, nails almost digging in the palm of his hands. 

sunghoon doesn’t have much experience with girls. in fact, none at all. flings are one thing, and girlfriends another. he has had both— none too serious. the first time someone asked him out was in highschool, although he’s surprised it didn’t happen much earlier. that time, just agreed to go out with her because his friends were in relationships too and he didn’t want to fall behind. it wasn’t soon before it turned into a competition after he got into university. not his best self, it isn’t something he’s proud of now that he thinks about it. 

and sunghoon isn’t half better than jay in that aspect, although obviously not as bad as to bet on going on a date with another girl while he already has a girlfriend. however, if you had feelings for him— as he thinks while watching you walk to your room— he wouldn’t let a single tear fall from your lips. 

“about that night,” he follows you into your room, practically hearing his heartbeat echo through his ears. he gulps nervously when he notices you looking at him with a sliver of hope in your eyes. “it wasn’t a mistake,”

“oh,” and you stop in your tracks, having no idea how to respond. an awkward pause follows as you bite your lower lip habitually before speaking, feigning a casual tone. “well, we can still put it behind—”

“i don’t want to,” he blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. you notice how his voice is quiet as always, yet there’s panic and anxiousness behind those eyes. “i mean, i tried to, but it’s difficult. you’re always on my mind,”

there’s a silver of determination behind his voice. it’s surprising and equally anticipated. sometimes, he feels like he thinks of you every minute no matter what he’s doing. it was never this bad, these days even the regular banters between you two give him butterflies. and sunghoon understand that he might be far from your type in men. perhaps, you actually prefer someone like jay, who treat you to a fancy dinner to apologise, or maybe that guy from a few months ago who can’t remember the name of. 

you and sunghoon can be polar opposites and he would still be standing here, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his denim jacket, looking so uncharacteristically out of place. he would choose to have this talk again, as much as he hates confronting, because it never about who your type is and always about the fact that you’re sunghoon’s type— as he realises this when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with lips pressed together. you look cute, more so when you’re awkward, and he can’t believe he’s coming to terms with this but god, he is falling for you. 

he is falling hard, and falling deep. it’s nothing like him, you make him nervous, almost as if knocking him out of air whenever your eyes meet, and he would gladly suffocate to death. it was quiet with too many questions hanging above his head, and he noticed the way you fiddle with your fingers with the cutest expression known to mankind and sunghoon knew he was screwed. 

“i’ve got it so bad for you, yn, really,” —he speaks as if he’s out of breath due to the nervousness— “really bad. i tried to keep you out of here,” he said, pointing at his chest, cheeks flushing red as the words fell off his lips. “but you won’t go, you just won’t.”

and sunghoon has never been so…out of place, for the lack of better words. it’s amusing, even to you, the way he is right now. the sunghoon from three weeks ago wouldn’t even care but he, now, is pouring out all of himself, as if stripping him naked of his emotions and letting him see what lies behind the suave smiles and prideful words. as if showing you how easily you have him going crazy, right out of his mind and how he can’t help but just stare blankly as his eyes travel down to your lips occasionally— as they do now— and it leaves you in a frenzy when you notice it. 

“i can’t stop thinking about that night— not in a weird way, just…” and you’re just standing in front of him, trying not to laugh at his antics. he’s cute, a pause, what the fuck. and then you just go along with it, knowing there’s no point denying it anymore now that you two are having this conversation.

you notice his little mannerisms, like how he can’t look in your eyes for the life in him, how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. it’s adorable, especially the way he can have all the attention in the room with just his mere presence. that’s sunghoon for you, with a presence so heavy it’s loud even when he’s silent. it’s so loud you can practically hear his mind, of all the words you know he wants to say but can’t. there’s a hitch in his breath, his eyes meet yours for the first time in the past few minutes— i like you— they say, and the next thing sunghoon knows is that you’re kissing him. 

“i like you too,” you whisper against his lips after pulling back, your lips brushing against his. sunghoon feels like every single nerve in his body has been sparked, giving him goosebumps when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his.

of course, you know how he feels even before he could say it out loud. maybe, he just made it obvious for you to guess, otherwise sunghoon likes to think of himself as someone who can hide his feelings well. he lets go of your hands as soon as he feels you lace your fingers with his and instead, cups your cheeks ever so tenderly and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling in the kiss. “i love you,”

˃ᗜ˂ : if you made it till here, i'm sending each one of u kisses >< thank u for reading, i hope u liked it. ps i had to put my heart aside and write jay's name ... never again will i put my man thru this huhu TT he's too good to do these things

[nayaesworld]

Mafioso

Part 2

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Warnings: violence, past mentions of domestic situations, fluff

Terry X OC!Marina

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Terry had been experiencing true bliss the last month he had spent with Marina. She was intelligent beyond words and found ways to teach him something new everyday. Whether it was her place or his, they carved out time from their busy schedules to spend quality time to get to know one another. Friday had rolled around and Marina was currently napping on his plush couch snuggled up with a thick throw blanket.Hands together underneath her chin as she snored lightly. This had been their ritual. She’d end her work week and spend the weekend with Terry.

And they shared similar stories about how they had grown up. Her mother Zen was also a single mother who was in a large city all by herself and they both were an only child. She spoke of the day her mother had finally finished school and became a labor and delivery nurse, she wanted to welcome babies into the world for the rest of her career. Marina spoke of the day they celebrated and how much she looked up to her mother. And Terry loved his mother dearly as well, he had provided her with the luxury of never having to work again, a gift for her sacrifice as a mother. She knew what he did, what he had to do for them to survive and yet his most current life decision she did not agree with.

She’d heard Marina talking in the back of their phone call one day and was currently icing him out for it. Grace had called Terry everything but a child of god, and was hell bent on not letting him make this “mistake” again. He caught on eventually to what or rather who she was referring to… a past toxic relationship that had fizzled out almost three years ago now. Terry was whoring and running through Houston like an angry bull when he met Carmen. They argued, fucked, and fought on a repeat constantly, tearing through his house, her house, vehicles you name it they had an altercation there.But eventually like most relationships like theirs the shit got old fast and he was tired of his face looking like he had gotten into an altercation with a mountain lion.

But Carmen didn’t leave peacefully, no that wasn't her. She disrespected his mother and attempted to slander his name in the media. It was messy and the cleanup to attempt to scrub his name clean of her lies cost him a pretty penny. Last he had heard, she had successfully trapped some poor unfortunate soul…rather them than him.But Marina hadn't exhibited any of the signs that Carmen had early on in their relationship. She was about her money, had dreams and aspirations, and above all else she was genuinely happy about life. The only words that soothe this mother were future promises of actually getting to meet Marina, that would have to do for now.

__

Terry tossed his head back and squeezed a few drops of eye drops into his eyes. Sleep had evaded him again the night before and his eyes felt tired and dry. His body felt stiff and sore from jumping out of a moving car the day before. Some shit that had to be done. Another day of asserting dominance and knocking heads off, the usual. His hands gripped the bathroom vanity as he closed his eyes to allow the solution to soothe his eyes. He was zoned out and didn’t hear Marina walking toward him, her warm hand reaching out and lightly rubbing his forearm made him flinch and pop his eyes open quickly.

“Oh-oh Terry I’m sorry… were you crying?” Her eyebrows rose in worry and stepped into the bathroom with him.

“No sweetheart, it’s just eye drops… I swear. You nap like a house cat you know..I’m starting to think you only come over to use my couch.” Terry capped the eye solution and placed it in his medicine cabinet before resting a hand on her waist.

“If you did the same you wouldn’t need those drops boo, I take my beauty sleep seriously and you should start Mr.Night Owl and maybe you’ll get as pretty as me.” He placed a hand to his chest in feigned hurt and chuckled at her.

“Oh so I’m not pretty enough for you already?” The hand on her waist slid up to gently rub against her back.

“Mhmh you belong on the cover of vogue.. now shoo I have to empty my bladder.” She rushed a juicy kiss to his cheek before he left her to give some privacy padding across the house to his bedroom.

He let his tense body sink into the recliner in the corner of his room. Body relaxing and sinking further into the plush expensive chair, his eyes slowly rolling into his head.

“Terry…oh Smiley you actually are sleepy aren’t you…so I guess that means I can’t beg you to go to Target with me huh?” He listened to her walk closer to him until she stood next to him, eyes still closed.

He loved when she called him Smiley, the nickname she created because she said anytime he smiled or grinned even just a little all 32 of his teeth would show.

“I was gonna drag my mama with me, but she flaked on me to go wine tasting…Smiley I need to go pick up some makeup stuff for our date tomorrow, will you come with me?” She rubbed her hand over his head softly and he leaned further into her touch and rested his head against her belly.

He pulled her down into his lap and she sat sideways squealing at his quick reflexes. She had taken off her bonnet and her sleek silk pressed hair flowed past her shoulders sleek and shiny.

“Mm I love your hair Mari… so soft and long.” He ran his fingers through the course strands pleased by how the new style framed her face and made her even more irresistible. “So pretty…I’ll go with you just let me change ok?”

__

“Terry no..I am not driving this, are you crazy..What if I wreck it?” Terry was in a fit of tears. He was currently trying to convince Marina to drive his BMW X6 to Target and she was not having it.

“Then I’ll just buy another one…remember what I showed you last time? Just put your foot on the gas and press the drive button right here.” He went over it again with her before she finally felt comfortable enough to back out of his driveway and head towards Target.

They stopped at Wendy’s after Marina got a craving for it a few minutes into the drive and she eagerly ordered them both large combos.

“Man just eat the burger, one burger won’t undo your six pack Smiley I promise.”

“You just got me breaking all my rules. Got me eating red meat and sweets…eating in my car. How you gonna pay me back for all this lack of discipline?”

“Will a kiss cover me for my bamboozling activity?” Terry gripped her chin and pulled her face close to his just close enough for the tips of their noses to touch.

Her dark eyes filled with mischief locked onto his…so tantalizing and expressive, even for him. She had a way with her eyes, and he always felt so bright and important when she looked at him. “A kiss will do just fine, pretty girl.”

He allowed her to lead the kiss, her plump lips pecking gently around his mouth trying to tempt his mouth open. He inevitably gave in, too eager to stroke and roll his tongue over hers. Heads cocked to the side Terry thrusted his tongue into her mouth lost in the feel of her soft cheek and tongue. It was so hot and warm and everytime they kissed he imagined the same feeling on the tip of his dick, pure ecstasy.

A knock to the passenger side window ceased their lip locking session and Terry groaned loudly. The ceramic tint on his windows had him mean mugging the man outside of his car. Motherfucking Scotty, a well known addict in the area that couldn’t be trusted. He would run his mouth to anybody that offered him a fix and for that reason alone Terry didn’t deal with him like everyone else did, and yet here he was In Terry’s face too damn close to the one new thing he was hiding from that part of his life— Marina.

Terry pulled the gold rim glasses from his face before looking over at Marina. “You know him?”

“I’ve seen him around town a few times.. he’s a good man that was dealt some bad cards in life. I help him out whenever I see him.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a crisp 50 dollar bill and rolled his window down with his back to Marina he was prepared to give a silent warning. He didn’t like being ambushed.

“Hey man you just love popping up on me huh..here’s a little something to send you on your way, stay out of trouble.” Terry sent the man a smile that didn’t meet his eyes before Scotty got the memo and thanked him before he headed back to sit in front of the restaurant. Nosey ass nigga.

“That was sweet Terry, you know your giving nature is one of my favorite things about you.” He met her gaze with a smile before bringing her hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it.

__

Target wasn’t as bad as Terry had anticipated, he had frequented the store maybe once or twice but now he was seeing the hype in it. Marina surprisingly only came for one little makeup product, something she apparently couldn’t live without a brow gel or whatever she had called it. He was enjoying her company nonetheless though, they had a date planned Saturday and he was more than looking forward to it.

“Can I get a hint on where we’re going at least.” She was at the island inside his kitchen, engorging herself on the creamy Alfredo and salmon he had made for them nimble fingers gripping the wine glass filled with moscato.

Terry wiped the white cheesy sauce from his mouth with a napkin before giving her his attention “I want you surprised sweetheart… so no hints unfortunately. Just wear that little red number you showed me today and you got it baby.”

“Aww you’re no fun Smiley… but at least your wine is good to make up for it.” She raised her glass towards his and the glasses clinked together.

“Mm you’ll love it, it’s right up your alley, now that’s all the info I can give you…you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow…how’s the new episode of your podcast coming along?”

“Ehh it’s going..I have two different subjects I wanna talk about but I’m having trouble narrowing it down. One is speaking to me more than the other one though.” Terry chewed and swallowed a piece of salmon repositioning himself on the stool.

“I’d go with the one you favor then…it’s likely that one is sticking to you more because you have great insight on it. Which you usually do on all your topics.” He grabbed their plates and dumped the remains into his trash can before loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “What’s the topic you're favoring?”

“It was more so a cocktail of things honestly, and it’ll probably be a really long episode. But it was drug abuse and the selling of drugs within our community.. and the obvious fucked up results of that on our youth and their futures.”

Terry felt his back tense up at her words before he relaxed himself. She had every right to talk about this and yet the topic couldn’t be any closer to home than it was. Here life was yet again trying to wave a red flag in his face, and it would be yet another ignored one.

“That’s a beautiful topic Mari..a really important one, I’ll be looking forward to hearing your points on it.”

Both tuckered out and tired from the day Terry headed towards one bathroom to shower and Marina headed to his other. His hands pressed firmly against the shower wall as the warm water cascaded over his sore muscles, his body called for plentiful hours of deep sleep. He was feeling deprived at this point but Marina brought him relief that sleep would come to him tonight peacefully and without the constant nightmares that haunted him. It was an attack on his mind and body that tossed him back and forth through REM sleep and deep sleep. Those souls he sought out and took came at a price, a mental one. Sometimes he wondered if he could actually ever shake the dead or if they wandered around him restlessly and unseen, waiting on their turn to torment him in the dreamworld.

He heard the tv in his bedroom switch on, an indication that somehow he was taking a longer shower than Marina had and that he was in his head longer than he had thought he was, he switched off the water before stepping out and wrapping his waist with a towel. Sleeping in bed with a woman that he had never had sexual relations with was new and he wouldn’t act as if he never thought about sex with her when she was around, because he did. Marina was fucking sexy. Her mind, her voice, her intelligence,her body..it was all a turn on for him but he was trying to do right by her, and that meant learning how to be intimate in more ways than sex.

Stepping out of his spacious walk-in closet fully clothed for bed he noticed the tv watching Marina as she laid against his pillows, remote still in hand. He accessed his smart home app from his phone and turned off his bedroom lights, weary body eager to sink into the cool mattress. She sought him out not long after he laid down, her bonnet clad head resting on his chest. He pulled her a little closer that night, her slow breathing and steady heartbeat lulling him into a deep slumber. A slumber where he met no angry souls or demons, only a warm light that encased him and drowned out the weariness.

__

“Only thing that’s saving Terry ohhh is the heart of Marinaaa.” Terry kept his left hand steady on the wheel as Marina held his right hand singing loudly into his ear as she currently butchered Summer Walker's newest single.Why he let her down those three shots of tequila he did not know. Either way it went he loved seeing her let loose, and she wasn’t particularly stuck or or anything he just rarely saw this side of her.

The red satin dress was made for her, and she was practically a magnet for his affection as they both got ready. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. Her soft plush thighs were exposed to him and when she dropped his hand he eagerly rubbed and kneaded them.

He couldn’t wait for her to see where they were going. He had called ahead days ago and made preparations at his restaurant; Stone Pier. It was best known for its plentiful surf and turf meal options, fun and fresh atmosphere, and elegant dining. He had planned a three course meal for them tonight over an intimate candlelit dinner.

It took no time to arrive and Marina’s confused expression was comical to him. The empty parking lot had to look absolutely insane from her point of view, but he needed her to trust the process. She sat still as Terry blindfolded her and waited patiently for him to help her out of his car. He opened the passenger side door grasping her head and slowly leading her into the building. He sat her down at the table and removed her blindfold. Pretty eyes adjusting to the low lighting in the establishment.

“Terry woww…this place is soo beautiful. I’ve passed by it so many times and never had the opportunity to check it out.”

“Well I own it so feel free to stop by whenever. I wanted this to be special, so I figured why not bring you someplace that was as special to me as you are.”

“Well you've definitely made a good impression, this place is amazing…is that a Malcom X quote over there on the wall?

“Mhm ‘A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything’ that’s one I keep with me everyday.” He watched her eyes drag all over the place soaking in one corner and the next.

“All the greenery in here..omg all the black history. Terry, this place is a true gem. Thank you for bringing me here Smiley.” They leaned forward and shared a kiss before Terry poured them both a glass of sweet red wine and signaled for his top chef to serve their first course and he and Marina indulged in more conversation.

__

The second course consisted of herb butter steak and lobster By their third course they were both full of food and wine. They shared a slice of decadent rum cake, savoring each bite of the moist cake. He watched Marina with lazy drunk eyes as she whined her waist slightly in her seat to Marvin Gaye’s ‘I Want You’. Pretty manicured fingers pointing in his direction with every lyric.

“You want me sweetheart.. give me a dance then. Show me.” He watched her confidently strut over to him and hold her hand out.

His long arms wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her into his chest. His face nuzzled into her neck pecking at it lightly as they swayed under the glass roof, stars twinkling down at them in a dazzled fashion.

“I really like you Terry Richmond, I’ll admit that realistically I’m still a little nervous about this…but I’m learning to live in the moment and trust what I can see.”

“I really like you too Marina Evans. I’m trying my hardest to show up for you in ways that cater to you, my only hope is that in the end you choose me.” He twirled her around and held her back to his front holding her close.

They circled through a few more songs before they were ready to call it a night. He handed her his car keys to get inside while he locked up his restaurant. He shut down the dining lights and music before thanking his chef for being a huge help tonight. His phone vibrated on a repeat in his pocket and pulled it from the picket of his slacks, it was his cousin Semaj. Fuck. Semaj knew not to call him today yet he did, and that only meant one thing. Some bullshit had hit the fan, or it was going to.

[ -What’s the word man..I told you I couldn’t take no calls today about business.

[Scotty’s talking man, going around saying he been seeing you out with some girl..this shit could be a problem T. I told you that nigga was watching…he don’t just pop up.

[- If he been seeing me the whole time and I haven’t been seeing him.. it’s a chance he’s working with somebody… I thought that shit was weird earlier when he popped up but I couldn’t be too sure

[- Exactly, since when you know Scotty to be anywhere around this damn city besides the Southside… yeah something ain’t right T we need to get hands on him asap!

[- Never a day to fucking breathe around here shit.. I want you, Blue, and Prime with y’all motherfucking ears to the wind behind his ass. And don’t stop until yall find him.

[- Aight I’ll keep you posted every hour on the hour he can’t be far.

Terry ended the call and sighed heavily. He was pissed, fucking enraged. Somebody was snooping in his damn business and attempting to keep tabs on him like some coked out socialite. He wanted to regulate his temper before he was back in Marina’s grace but when he turned around he found a man talking closely to Marina through his passenger side window. His face scrunched up with confusion quickly as he made a quick walk over to his car.

“Hey my man… can I help you with something?” He had to look as agitated as he felt and the stupid expression on the man’s face was hard to ignore.

“Bro this car is fucking sick… I was just asking your girlfriend or you know whatever she is, what model this was, this has to be a custom paint job or something.” The man ran an open hand over the hood of Terry’s X6 irritating him even further.

“It’s not custom, it’s factory now get your hands off of my car and learn to admire some shit without touching it!”

“Are you kidding me man it’s just a fucking car, it’s probably rented anyways.” He sent a kick to his rear passenger door before attempting to walk away.

Terry couldn’t restrain himself anymore and he went flying at the disrespectful man. He snatched the man and turned him around to face him. How dare this man think he would walk up to him, disrespect his car and leave here unscathed.Balling the front of his shirt up Terry used it as leverage to send punch after punch to his face, he never even stood a chance against Terry.

“Terry..Terry.. wait please stop! Terry you’re gonna kill him..please.” Her helpless screeches reached his ears in a panic and Terry realized he had forgotten all about their date, his words to her. What did they really mean if he was going to beat somebody to a bloody pulp in front of her. With a menacing mug on his face he shoved the absolute waste of space to the ground and stepped over him like a patch of grass.

“Remember this ass whooping because next time I put my hands on you, they gone be singing and sending you off dressed in all black."

“Get in the car Marina…I’m ready to go.” He watched her eyes flash from the beaten man to him over and over, eyes clearly not believing the scene in front of her.

“Bu-but Terry he could die we have to call an ambulance..you can’t leave him like this please.” He shook his head no and watched a hand cover her mouth in an attempt to choke back tears.

“Get. In. The. Car. Marina..now.” She jumped at his tone before she hurried into the car, makeup smudged from the tears that came in a steady stream.

He whipped out of the parking lot quickly, headlights catching the woozy steps of the beaten man as he stumbled away.

“See he’s all good..Marina sweetheart what’s all these tears for hmm, I’m the one that got disrespected. Was I supposed to let him walk away after that shit?!” His raised voice boomed in the confined space of his vehicle and he watched her put space between them. Her body pressed into the passenger side door as she thumbed tears.

“Oh I see, I’m the bad guy now…he was all in your face by MY window touching on MY car, but you only feel bad for him…got it.” Terry gripped the steering wheel tightly and sped down the freeway. This night had turned for the fucking worse and even still he was trying to mince his words.

“Why are you yelling at me… you just assaulted someone in front of me Terry, and then you threatened to kill him. You keep speaking like I’m blaming you but I asked you to stop…to just please let him go..and yo-you just wouldn’t stop.”

“What I saw back there…that wasn’t the Terry or Smiley I’ve been getting to know…you didn’t even look like yourself back there, your face and eyes were just..I don’t know. I think I’m going to spend the rest of my days off at my own home.. I don’t even get you right now.” She continued on, and he was realizing each passing minute how royally he had fucked up.

“I fucked up Mari..I see that now. I realize that what I did back there scared you and if you think less of me after it that’ll be all on me, but I don't regret it.” Pulling into his drive way he shut off his car and rested his head against the headrest.

“You keep buckling down on what you did, but you said you would kill him. Terry, that's not something I can just ignore because he kicked your car, that’s not normal to blurt out after an altercation so small. You really hurt my feelings, and I have to think about me first.”

“Am I going to hear from you again..see you…touch you?” When he reached out to touch her she pulled away, her dark eyes turning to stare at him, analyzing what actually was in front of her. She shook her head and sighed to herself before opening the door, but Terry got up to help her out instead. She hesitated to give him her hand, but eventually she let him help her out.

He pulled her into a tight hug, fingers inching up slightly into her hair to tug lightly at it. The hairspray she used tickled his nose as he inhaled the scent of it. Her hands stayed at her sides and she made no attempt at returning the affection.

“I’m not sure Terry, I need time to think and process tonight. It was all going so well before that and I wanted to trust what you told me, but I need time.”

“A kiss goodbye then?” She looked up at him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before attempting to walk away. Terry pulled her back and held her face in his hands, full lips sucking her bottom lip into his mouth as his teeth slowly nipped at it. He wanted to savor what was left of this night because she still looked oh so good, and he still wanted her. He got as far as suckling against her jaw before she put a hand to his chest severing the connection.

“Goodnight Terry” she walked away without a backwards glance and he watched her leave from his driveway until he couldn’t see her car anymore.

He had plans on winning her back, and hopefully gaining what little trust back she had in him from the get go. Terry was a resourceful man with every resource possible at his fingertips, this situation was a bump in the road. Some shit she wouldn’t even remember eventually. So he’d let her run away for the night, get her pretty little head together for a few days. Then he was gonna win her back, one day at a time.

__

A/N: I said 10pm yesterday and it’s going on 8am😭I hope yall enjoy this nonetheless!

@blackmoonchilee @zillasvilla @simplyzeeka @megamindsecretlair @uniqueoutlierblog @blackerthings @keehendrixx @ranikyani @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @tvchi @23jammy @henneseyhoe @theereina @ovohanna24 @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @keyaho @brattyfics @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

# Aaron pierre #rebel ridge #terry richmond #black!oc #terry richmond black oc

[whatswrongwithblue]

Reader does actually try to walk off a cliff and Alastor catches them and gets furious and sexy about it and pounds Vexi... I mean reader into the mattress so hard she can't walk anymore and he ends up laughing saying 'let's see you try to do that again now your legs won't work'

Beta'd by @inuhalfdemon

For my darling @redvexillum, I know you're Overtime Vexi right now; working hard on the Discord server, keeping up with daily Kinktober posts, and also literally working an IRL job. This is a no pressure gift to you. Read when you have time and need a little pick me up. I even based Reader off of your avatar on your blog and used language specifically from my favorite fic of yours . . . you know the one *wink wink*.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: suicide ideation, suicide attempt, depression, mental illness, dissociation, possesive Alastor, Alastor owns Reader's soul, sex as punishment, angry sex, oral (fem receiving), p/v sex, shadow tendrils/tentacles, bondage, use of a gag, overstimulation, lack of aftercare, begging, dom/sub dynamic.

Falling

The warm night breeze ghosted through your hair; a gentle lover’s caress across the back of your neck. It calmed your nerves as you looked down at the drop below and you closed your eyes, thinking you could almost hear the wind telling you to take that final step.

Just one little step.

A few seconds of falling.

Then darkness. Nothing. Peace.

The wind kicked up a little harder, fanning out your wings, and nearly making you lose your balance. You gasped and flailed your arms, catching your balance before you fell.

A stupid lingering human instinct to save yourself. Your body’s nervous system fighting against what your mind desperately wanted.

You took a deep, steadying breath in, and tucked your wings in. They were tiny; pink and membranous things that seemed more for aesthetic than any kind of purpose. It’s not like you could fly with them. They were no more useful than your asymmetrical horns when it came to that skill only very few Sinners were lucky enough to have. And they weren’t even very demonic looking, as far as demon appendages went. Both your horns and your wings were pink, slightly darker shades than the pastel of your skin and hair. Even your fucking irises were pink.

While you quite loved pink as a human, it just felt insulting down in Hell. Like every other aspect of your demon visage. Useless. Infantile. Boring.

Nearly making you fall to your death by being caught in a sudden gust of hot air was the only favor your wings had ever done for you.

Not that you would permanently die, you lamented. Eventually you would re-spawn somewhere within the city. But re-spawning took hours, sometimes even days. And in that time would be nothing. When you were alive you always joked about wishing that you could just take your brain out of your skull, like a temporary death, just to quiet the awful thoughts and feelings your malfunctioning organ plagued you with day and night.

Here in Hell, you could actually do that. Again and again, if you so chose to.

All you had to do was jump.

Maybe it wasn’t worth it. When you came back, Alastor would certainly hunt you down and find you. And you could just see the disappointment in his face. Hear the disgust in his voice. How lowly he would think of his darling then, that she would perform such an empty and pathetic act.

But then again, he was going to find out who you were at your core eventually. Better to rip the bandage off and make him face just how truly damaged you were before you continued to waste his time further. He was bound to get tired of pulling you out of your depressed funks after enough time had gone by. And what good did you bring to his life anyway?

You were a distraction.

He had snapped that to you earlier that evening when you had interrupted his work at the hotel. Those last stinging words echoed through your mind, branding themselves into your grey matter so that you never forgot them.

Well, you wouldn’t be distracting him anymore after this stunt. He wouldn’t bother with you afterwards.

And if you found you really did enjoy the nothingness that came between death and re-spawning, the extermination wasn’t far away. All you had to do was stand in front of an exorcist and simply not move as they brought their blade down on you. Then it would truly be an eternity of peace and quiet for you.

No more distractions.

The thought came to you bitterly as you considered that Alastor was the one who had been distracting you. All these months of his attention, of him making you his darling, of him making you fall in love with him, had just distracted you for a while. But now the pain was back, worse than ever, with one small argument between you two and you realized if it wasn’t for him, you likely would have jumped off this roof months ago.

You could have let it all go during the last extermination, while everyone else was huddled safely inside the hotel.

What a waste of time. A useless, boring, distracting life.

A deep breath. A single tear sliding down your cheek. A last thought of warmth and safety whispering through your mind . . .

“Alastor.”

His name left your lips like a prayer and an apology.

You took a step over the ledge.

The street below became your entire field of view as you lost your footing entirely.

And then the world glitched.

Colors blended in choppy formation and static screamed in your ears, threatening to burst your ears drums. Everything was fuzzy and going dark and a strange tingling filled your body, like your very blood had turned to static.

And then you were back on your own two feet, standing face to chest with the red and black pinstriped suit you knew so well.

Unnaturally large claws had you by the shoulders and you tilted your head up, taking in the full view of a very angry Radio Demon.

Alastor towered over you, his antlers spread wide, his eyes turning like radio dials, and he lifted you up like you weighed nothing until you were face to face and your feet were dangling several feet in the air.

“What the fuck was that?” he snarled, his voice even more full of static than you were used to.

Your eyes went wide at the use of vulgarity from him. You could count with your two useless wings how many times you had heard him swear before and never had it been directed at you.

When you didn’t answer right away, he shook you, calling you by your real name rather than darling, which he never did. He demanded an answer but all you could manage was a little whimper before you broke.

Your chin quivered and you felt the swell of tears in your eyes as a sob squeezed your chest and erupted out.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out and then slowly, ever so gently, you felt yourself being lowered to the ground and then your face was pressed against the soft fabric of Alastor’s suit. His bow tie tickled the side of your face and his scent, heady with Spanish moss and cypress, and some other uniquely Earthy smell that was entirely him, filled your senses.

“Darling,” he said quietly, “my darling . . . why?”

You could barely breath through your sobs, let alone speak, so it took you a moment to gather the strength to answer. Clutching at the back of his jacket, you pressed your face into him harder, trying to hide your reasoning, bury your shame, pretend like every pathetic part of you didn’t exist.

But he had seen, hadn’t he? He had watched you take that step, had come up here to find you and seen that final microsecond when there was nothing but air between you and the ground below.

And he had altered reality to bring you back to him. To save you.

Half of you hoped that meant he really did love you like you loved him. Like he promised every day that he did, even though you never quite believed it.

The other half of you whispered an insipid little lie that was too tempting to not consider  . . . that this whole stunt of yours was just another distraction.

“I don’t want to be a bother anymore,” you finally whispered, hiccupping and choking as you struggled to speak.

Alastor went stiff around you, and you thought then that he would finally push you away. Agree that you really were just a bother. That if he were to ever shackle himself to another soul, it certainly wouldn’t be to such a weak little wretch as yourself.

Instead, his long, clawed fingers grasped you by your chin, forcing you to look up at him. And though his expression was often hard to read, the strain in his smile showed anger while the burning in his ruby eyes showed pain.

“What gave you the idea that you could do such a thing? That I would allow it?”

“Wha . . . what?”

“You’re mine now, darling.” He pulled on your chin, forcing you on tip toe as he brought your face closer to him. “You belong to me and I don’t let what belongs to me just fly away. It seems you have forgotten that.”

His claws were digging into your cheeks and along your jaw line, stinging and threatening, even as he brought his lips down and gave you the gentlest kiss on the forehead.

 

“Perhaps I need to remind you of that,” he whispered to you, his voice low and tender, crackling with a passion you couldn’t misplace. He was angry, you realized, oh yes he was furious with you. But as the world went fuzzy once again, and you felt the familiar sensation of melting into shadow, and your soul blended with his, you could literally feel that burning rage inside of him being twisted and morphed into more direct emotions. Lust and desire filled what was left of your identity as Alastor transported you through the ceiling and walls of the hotel and into your room.

Now this was flying.

Alastor had sat you at the foot of your bed, making quick work of removing your underwear, lifting your pleated skirt above your hips, and kneeling before you, all before you had come down from the bizarre and disorienting high of being nothing but shadow with him.

Now you were reduced to a shell of a person, thoughtless and detached from your feelings and in the best of ways, as Alastor’s tongue made your nervous system aware of nothing else but the bundle of nerves between your legs.

Your knees were resting on his shoulders and already shaking as his tongue twisted and lapped at your clit, occasionally giving the swollen pearl a hard suck, as two fingers pumped into your core, working to pull a second climax from you.

Distantly you were aware of the flutter of your wings; a helpless reflex, along with the tremble of your legs. Tears streamed down your cheeks, though you paid that no mind either. Even if you had noticed them, you wouldn’t be able to place which emotion was drawing them from your eyes.

You only knew that this feeling; the intense physical sensation of Alastor turning you into a whimpering, wanton mess, allowed you to dissociate in the best of ways and everything that had tormented you to the point of standing on that cliff’s edge was completely forgotten.

The fingers of one of your hands wrapped themselves in a white-knuckled grip around his antler while your other hand found purchase in his red locks and you sobbed out his name as you came again.

Just as your walls began to clench, Alastor pulled himself from your clutches, leaving your cunt to clench needfully onto nothing. The abrupt lack of touch right at the beginning of your orgasm was torture and in his absence you pressed your legs together, searching for any friction that would allow for a fraction of the satisfaction his tongue and fingers should be giving you.  

“Now, now, dear,” Alastor tutted, and you felt your legs forced back apart. “Remember, I’m here to make a point. And that point is . . .” You looked down to see tendrils of shadows spreading your legs farther open, tangling themselves around your thighs and hips. “. . . You’re mine.” He began undoing the top of his trousers. “And  any rash decisions,” he pushed his trousers down below his waist, “like trying to jump off buildings,” he pulled his cock free and you salivated at the sight of its red and swollen tip already weeping pre-cum for you, “or pleasuring yourself without permission,” he leaned over you, his tense and wicked smile inches away from your lips as his took a painful fistful of your hair, “will be met with severe punishments.”

You swallowed, daring to meet his eyes with your own submissive, watery ones, and nodded.

“There’s my darling I know and cherish,” he said sweetly. His fingers left your hair and traced along your jaw until they came to your lips.

“And now that we’re at an understanding,” he snapped his fingers and your clothes vanished, “let’s see how well you can take your punishment.”

His cock thrust into you as black tendrils slithered their way up the rest of your nude body, pinning you in place. They teased and stroked every erogenous zone with lovely tenderness, their touch soothing and affectionate even as they forced you to near absolute stillness. In stark contrast, Alastor pounded into you, stretching you to the point of burning and igniting the still burning embers of your last orgasm that Alastor had left unfinished.

You came within seconds, your walls spasming hard against the fat width of his cock. Alastor drove on as if he hadn’t noticed, deep enough to hit the blind end of your depths with every forward thrust. The bruising combination left a dull cramp in your belly as your climax went on for several more moments, an intense combination of pleasure and pressure.   

After the quaking within your core subsided, you went limp within the clutches of the shadows. Three orgasms as intense as the ones you had just experienced were more than enough to placate your mind and body and your teary eyes now began to droop with sleepiness.

And yet Alastor was clearly not finished with you.

“Alastor,” you pleaded, knowing he still hadn’t come but you intended to beg for him to be a little gentler with you until he had. Instead of letting you speak, however; a tendril that had been near your throat laced itself through your open mouth and synched itself around your head, effectively gagging you.

The only response you got from your lover was an angry red glow of his eyes as they narrowed onto you, before he gripped your thighs with his claws and continued on with his brutal pace.

Too much, too much, too much, you internally screamed, a fresh torrent of hot tears burning down your cheeks. Your teeth sunk into the meat of the tentacle between your lips and you strained against the ones holding your wrists down to the bed.

The brutal pace of your punishment went on for several more minutes; an eternity for your overstimulated sex. Everything between your ribs and your thighs burned and ached from the ceaseless, intrusive rhythm of Alastor’s body against yours. Inside and out, he continued to savagely ravish you, until there was nothing else for you to do but begin to silently cry and take the punishment he was dolling out.

Alastor pulled out of you with a suddenness that both relieved and confused you. Your throbbing cunt ached from what it had just been through but as your eyes met his, you felt an emptiness within you. Still wrapped in tentacles, you glanced down at his glistening cock before you looked back up at the sharp tooth smile on the face of the man that you feared and loved above all else.

He still looked as pissed off as ever but there was a softness at the corner of his eyes that hinted at concern and you knew him well enough to know he was worried he might have taken things to far.

As you felt the shadow tentacles begin to loosen around you, you felt a emotion so long-forgotten you almost didn’t recognize it.

Confidence.

And with that thought, you wordlessly turned yourself around until your lay on your belly, exposing your backside and the tiny pink wings you knew Alastor loved to play with whenever he was angry.

A moment came and went and you were just beginning to wonder if you had misread the owner of your soul. You opened your mouth to speak his name once more but before you could utter a syllable, you felt your arms yanked back by the wrists and a powerful tendril wrap around your throat, holding you face down into the mattress.

The shadows that were still around your hips tightened and forcefully lifted your ass into the air and you braced yourself a second before Alastor’s cock slammed back into you, filling you back up to completion and eviscerating that feeling of emptiness.

Tired and spent as you were, you moaned aloud and squeezed his member with every last bit of strength you had within your spongey walls.  

You felt the long, slow drag of his retreating cock sliding against every sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you before another snap of Alastor’s hips had it rocketing back into you.

“Say it,” he commanded and you shuddered with your whole body, knowing what he wanted to hear.

“I’m your darling,” you replied, breathless and yet moaning again as he rewarded you with another thrust.

“And?”

“I belong to you.” He matched this thrust with a gentle stroke of a shadow across the membrane of one of your wings. “Mmmmmm, more,” you begged, as your wings gave a tiny, involuntary flap at the feather light touch.

But he had stilled behind you, waiting for your needfulness to build until you were begging.

“Please,” you sobbed out, feeling your chin quiver as all the emotions of the night came rushing back to you. “I’m sorry, Al’. I’m so sorry.”

As you spoke, the touching of your wings and the powerful movement of his cock began anew. You blabbered on, afraid if you stopped talking, the pleasant sensation of his touch within you and above you would end.

“I love you. I’ll never leave you. I’ll never even think about leaving you ever again. Not in anyway. Not even when your angry with me. Not even when I hate myself. Because I’m yours and I’ll always be yours. I’m so sorry, Alastor. Please don’t stop. Please, you feel so good. Fill me up, love. Because I’m your darling and I’ll be good from now on, please just fill me up. I’m your good girl and I love you and I want to feel you inside me. Please, please, oh God Al’, you feel so good, I’m – I’m – I-”

With a painful pull on your wrists you felt all the way into your shoulders, you felt him spill his seed within you as his body tense and every shadow of his went impossibly taut around you. The heat of his cum burned your walls and spilled down your inner thighs, coating you and marking you as his, and you came along with him, screaming into the sheets. Every tendril bruised into your skin, leaving marks around your throat, breasts, wings, hips, and thighs, as Alastor lost all control, even as he continued to pound into you with an uneven and desperate pace.

Everything blurred as you came down from the high together. You felt your muscles turn to jelly and give out in the final moments of your climax, just in time to feel Alastor finally still and begin to soften before he pulled out.

After several serene moments had gone by, the sheets beneath you began to move and pull away. As if in a dream, you felt your body being moved up the bed and then Alastor’s weight joined next to you as you were tucked into bed. Without being cleaned and without a word of praise or love, which he usually included in an aftercare routine for you.

But you knew, deep within the fog of your exhausted mind, that you deserved this. You would wake up in the morning marked by the bruises and the sticky mess between your legs, and only then would you be allowed to shower and heal yourself.

“Thank you,” you murmured with closed eyes as he finished tucking you in. “I don’t think I can move after that, let alone walk.”

An amused, deep chuckle came from Alastor before he pinched your cheek hard enough to make your eyes snap back open.

He got up from the bed, now fully dressed, and straightened his bow tie and monocle before marching towards the door with a pleased and arrogant look on his face.

“Good, my darling. That’s good. Let’s see you try to pull that nonsense again now that your legs don’t work. Sweet dreams,” he added as he opened the bedroom door and gave you one last warning smile before he slammed the door behind him, hard enough to knock a few decorations off the walls.

You sighed as you heard a lock clicking into place, knowing his point was made, and that he was still very much angry with you. But the storm had passed, for both of you. You relaxed into the soft pillow and closed your eyes, the first smile in days touching your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.

[merakiui]

ahhhhh thank you for answering my ask!!!! i have even more!!!! (this is both the anon from contractual fwb and the milking anon TT i was super tired when i sent that in lol. if you don’t have an eepy or sleepy anon feel free to dub me. also ignore the spelling mistakes my fingers are moving slower than my brain) btw this brainrot is not based on my last asks, but more on the canon of what you wrote. it’s been bouncing in my mind all day.

you thought that since azul didn’t want your relationship to be known when it was first starting that he’d not want it to be shown off either when it’s official. but you’re dead wrong! (500 mora on the fact that he just wanted to keep it on the dl so that way no one could try and break y’all’s contract up.) but no, bitch you work in the monstro lounge and you best believe that every single person who walks through those doors knows you ride his dick with how much he lets you get away with. you mess up an order? it’s met with a sigh instead of a lecture. a tables being rude to you? doenst matter how busy yall are, they’re going to someone else. you’d like to order food after last call for workers? he’ll make it himself.

ruggie’s poor ass even commented one time on how yall act like you’re married. he called you azuls work wife and all azul heard was “wife” (listen people, i don’t care what gender you are because work couple names are gender neutral. only reason you’re the so called wife in this scenario is purely because id love to call azul my husband. got it? good.) and so now azuls on this whole thing about how you’re his wife and you’re married and he refuses to respond to anything other than “my husband.” it’s a bit tiring to explain to random strangers that yes, you are too young to be married, and no, you’re not actually married to this crazy tako. but don’t worry, his silly little nicknames are still used.

you’ve practically moved into octavinel’s dormitory at this point. you sleep there nearly every night. of course you occasionally go back to ramshackle because of any slight disagreement you get into (and also ace and deuce are tired of having to babysit grim every night and that cat ain’t going near the fish dorm with a ten foot pole) which means you get woken up to a flushed azul with flowers and a roundabout half apology. you forgive him every time.

back to the marriage thing. yall really do act like you’re already married. you’ve even started helping him sort out his papers in his office instead of being in the floor. (this definitely started because you wanted more of him and he was busy so you were like fuck it i guess im in) you’re his proof reader for his contracts. he has yet to make a mistake. and if he’s in back of house you run the front, even if jade and floyd are there! he’ll never tell you this but it’s somehow a super long winded plan he created through a careful game of 5d chess to get you to own a business together that’s completely unnecessary because you would’ve said yes to co-owning a restaurant.

he’s so happy his pretty work wife wants to run the lounge with him. and it’s definitely not so he can tie you down more to him because we know he’d love you to live the sugar baby lifestyle—oh no not at all. his tells his mommy about it and she ends up requesting to meet you. he wouldn’t sent her a quick no if you didn’t put your hand on your hip and raise your eyebrow. he finds it just as sexy as you batting your pretty lashes up at him but he’ll never tell you. he has a thing for boss lady’s.

(bbg if you want more i’ll deadass ramble to you about how i think meeting his mom would go. i have sooooo many thoughts on this au it’s genuinely concerning)

AAAAA EEPY ANON!!!! You have blessed me with your brilliant thoughts once more (that milking ask was so delicious btw.... I need him clinging to me!!!!!).

Handing over that 500 mora to you because you're right LOL. Stingy tako did not want to share or publicize your relationship because he just knew in his soul that someone would try to get in the way of your contract...... he covers all of his bases in the most meticulous ways. >_< so silly...

AAAAAA THE WORK WIFE/WORK HUSBAND DYNAMIC WITH HIM!!!!! This is so true!!!!! He spoils you so much. Ruggie is very right to make that observation. <3 Azul is so lenient with you and it's so obvious he's down bad for you. Insisting on making food for you even though you were just planning to take leftovers. So quick to forgive you if you make a mistake, and Floyd whines about how Azul's not like that whenever he messes up. >:( you really are his work wife and one day hopefully his real wife and it will say so on the legal documents and you'll get his surname and and and !!!!!!

Omg Azul and his 5D chess plans........ oh, he is so over the moon when you show interest in the lounge and wanting to help out... he melts if you give him a shoulder massage while he writes up contracts. >:D can he just marry you right now already!!! OTL I love the idea of him folding whenever you do something he finds attractive. Batting your lashes, hands on your hips, every playful glance, etc etc....... somehow he ends up folding so hard for you that it gets you a trip to the Coral Sea to meet his parents, and his mother and the restaurant staff fawn over you and Azul's partnership. Such a cute couple. They adore you. Azul thinks this is the most blue he's ever looked because he's so embarrassed, yet you soak in their attention like a thirsty flower. Even more embarrassing when you're sleeping in his childhood room and you tease him for it. He is definitely fucking you in that cramped sleeping nook and you're going to fall asleep wrapped up in his tentacles, the both of you clinging to each other.

(please ramble as much as you want!!!! I love these thoughts so much,,, contractual fwb with Azul will always be one of my favorites hehe. I need to know how the meeting with his mother goes...... AAAAAAA)

[silkythewriter]

Angel on fire

Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle!, sorry for any grammar or spelling errors! (part 2)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!: WOWZA HELLO I DIDNT THINK PEOPLE WOULD LIKE THE 1ST ONE SO MUCH?! TYSM FOR TGE SUPPORT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!

Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

“Cause those are my words, not yours

As far as I'm concerned, it could've been a lot worse

I wasn't trying to avoid the confrontation

She isn't crying, she's just making conversation”

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“Look.. Adam-“ you said desperately before being cut off “no fucking way!” He chuckled “your actually side-ing with those shit bags?!” He said looking at you. You only glared at him, before huffing softly “watch your language…” You said with a with a small frown. Making his eyebrows crunch together as he closed his eyes with a huff. “For fuck sake do you know what those.. scums even did to end up there!” He said angrily. You steady your breath, with him you had too, you knew how he was but you just had too keep poking at him. Or get something other then a no, If you did you were sure to lose your mind.

“Adam, Just listen!, I think this could benefit heaven as well! More extra time means more time to do what you want. Wouldn’t you like that?” You tried reasoning as you cupped his hands in yours only for him to push it away. “Don’t test me Y/n, this is my job.” He spat out, making you wince. “Why are you pushing on this so hard anyways!, you have all you could want here. You barely have to lift a finger why are you so concerned for them?” He said crossing his arms. “They were humans once Adam, just like you, just like me. We’re no different, they just messed up once and we’re sent to an eternal furnace with no escape!” You said holding your hands to your chest. “Please! I’m nothing like them, I was the first fucking human soul in heaven, no one compares to me.” He laughed out. “So what does that mean about me?” You said with furrowed brows. He sighed heavily before speaking “Angel, listen to your self, your the only other person I really give a shit about. Well other then lute I guess” he shrugged as he rested his arm on the arm rest and laid his head in his palm boredly. “Look don’t worry your little gorgeous self about a thing. This ain’t your field!” He laughed.

You had patience, and you had tolerance. But his disrespect set you off. But you knew in your head that fighting someone like himself wouldn’t end well. You already had more leeway then most due to your, well close relationship with Adam. But you had to keep trying, after all angels don’t break promises.

With a heavy sigh you bowed before excusing your self. Which he quickly called out to you in confusion. But you only kept walking to your room, you were a patient one, but dealing with him proves to be a handful. You needed to think of a way to at least push it back one more month.

Just one more month

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

“What’s good cherry pimp” Angel dust asked as he threw himself on the couch sluggishly. “All day you’ve been hummin’ and tappin’ what’s on your mind?” He asked as he quirked an eyebrow up as he put his gaze on Alastor. Alastor smile only grew, his mind filled with your intoxicating self. To him you very much everything, from the first day he was damned, till now all his mind was filled was you. But now more then ever, seeing you after all these decades was a shot of electricity to his very dead heart. You hadn’t change a bit since the last time he laid eyes on you. You were still angelic as ever.

Again he was swept up in his mind but quickly flicked back to reality, swaying softly as he hummed. “Oh nothing, my dear friend, old acquaintances I have recently seen after some time!” He said in his usual radio voice. “Yea I’m surprised anyone would be friends with you. Not to be rude or nothin’ but your fuckin’ creepy pal” angel said as he laughed  as he waved his hands. Alastor only smirked in amusement as he took his leave. 

He should have known someone of the likes of you would end up where most wouldn’t. He wasn’t an ounce surprised. But he wanted you back, and he was going to take what he wanted. He didn’t frankly care if you’d belong to the sky,

You were his angel first. And he’d rid those little wings of yours if it meant you were to never fly Away from him.

Not this time, not again

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

You tiredly tapped your finger over the dinner table. Mind still racing with ideas, it was a cycle, coming up with something, but ultimately crossing it off the thinking board. Adam paid no mind for awhile as he chatted Away with Lute. Which was eyeing you suspiciously. And once Adam went back to his meal she quickly cleared her throat as she straighten her stance next to Adam “Miss Y/n, you haven’t touched your food.” She stated bluntly. Which made you snap out of thought as you turned you attention to her “I’m afraid I don’t have an appetite today” you said softly pushing the plate stacked with food away form you.

“Are you really still hung up on that stupid shit little miss princess of hell proposed?” He scoffed. Causing you to huff, “I’ll be taking my leave.” You said plainly but as nicely as you could as you backed you seat from the table and stood up causing him to grunt. “Look angel, if I think about pushing the damn extermination back would you drop this?” He said making you quickly turn to him with a smile and nod. “There’s that smile, now sit down and eat I’m tired of thinking of all of this” he said as you agreed taking a seat.

Lute was appalled at how… how quick it was was all agreed. How could he just push it back so easily? Even if it was just him “thinking” about it. And for no reason other then you?, all though Adam was to In-grossed in his own things to question such things. She did not and quickly grew suspicious, you out of all people should be less worried. You have everything in a silver platter yet you still seem to have such a worry in matters that weren’t concerning you in the first place.

You could feel her eyes staring you down. But her suspicions were very much valid even if unfortunate to your case. You’d have to be more careful, if she caught on, she’d be quick to make Adam question aswell.

You cursed yourself slightly but still happy non the less. Even if you got Adam to consider the possibility of pushing the date back was still a progress!.

You were sure to tell Charlie soon, although you’d have to wait till lutes suspicions and stares would die down so you could slip away.

Your patience were never ending, but oh how much you longed for the man you’ve last seen years ago.

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

TYSM FOR READING AH I LOVED WRITING THIS AGAIN TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON NY LAST POST, ILL BE SURE TO WORK ON SOEM REQUEST BUT PLEASE BE ASSURED PART 3 WILL BE POSTED AFTER I DO SOME REQUEST. ٩(ᐛ)و

[winterrrnight]

hi edith! i love your writing so much 🫶 especially the dynamic scholar!reader with rafe. can you make more please 🥺🩷 but with mean!rafe or fratboy!rafe

ahhh thank you for your request and your kind words anon 🫶I hope you like reading this :) I went with frat!rafe because to be honest mean!rafe isn’t much of my thing 😅 let me know your views on this if you feel like <3

late night sessions

PAIRING: frat!soft!rafe cameron x gn!scholar!reader

SUMMARY: rafe helps you back in bed after you accidentally fall asleep while studying.

WARNINGS: reader is a stem student (or basically anything except business because that is rafe’s major); established relationship; minimal usage of nicknames like babe; minimal swearing; rafe is soft for reader; fluff

EDITH SPEAKS: love love love scholar!reader with my whole heart 🥰 I’m so glad I’m getting to write them again. (manifesting major scholar!reader vibes for myself for my upcoming college year 😚) read my original scholar!reader blurb here <3

please reblog if you liked reading this! feedback is always appreciated 🪸

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It’s like you are completely cut off from the outside world; your books, notes, flashcards, and your laptop surround you on your desk as you find yourself knee deep in this semester’s syllabus, your mind already working on an overdrive for midterms – even when you still have a whole week before the dreaded exams approach.

But your boyfriend? He’s totally opposite. 

Exams don’t even begin mattering to him until one night before the actual exam day when he practically rawdogs some borrowed notes, not knowing what half of the content means but he’s cramming and gulping down information as if his life depends on it. And then guess what? He always gets a minimum of 50% of the total marks on each of his exams, making him the cockiest bastard to ever exist. 

 “See babe? This shit’s easy as fuck. Passed with all flying colors ’n shit,” He grins, practically shoving his grade sheet in your face. You always have to swallow down the urge to smack that irritatingly perfect face of his, blowing off that smirk right off his face. 

“Shut it, your business shit’s easy to pass alright?” You grumble under your breath. You very well know business isn’t easy, but the fact that Rafe is passing it with pretty decent scores by studying only one night before makes you think differently.

Your current focus on your notes is broken when you hear a knock at your dorm door. Begrudgingly, you yell out a ‘come in’, not moving your attention from your notes for even a split second. You hear the door open and close from the front of the room, and when you feel a figure approach you from the back and wrap their arms around you, you know who it is. 

“Hey babe,” Rafe mumbles in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at all your books and notes surrounding you. 

“Hey,” You mumble back, your focus not withering at all. 

“Missed you tons today,” He mumbles, gently caressing your neck with his fingertips before nuzzling against the soft skin, his lips beginning to press slow, languid kisses.

“Yeah same,” You mutter, dragging your laptop closer as you open the file you want to access, your entire body, mind and soul completely unphased by Rafe. 

Rafe sighs as he presses one last kiss to the side of your neck before lifting his head up. “Already studying for your midterms?” He says, reluctantly stepping back from you to flop down on your bed, his gaze never leaving you. He already knows the answer to his question: you wouldn’t be the person he’s so deeply infatuated with if you aren’t giving a head start to your head start for your exam preparations.

“Uh huh,” Comes out your quiet voice as he watches you, your brows furrowed as you scroll through something on your laptop. He trains his gaze over to the small digital clock sitting on the corner of your desk, flashing the numbers 11:17 in a bright white. 

“Babe it’s getting late, come sleep with me,” He says, beginning to scoot over to make space for you, but your next words make him stop. 

“It’s okay Rafe you sleep, I’ll be there in a few,” 

Few. It can mean anything in your dictionary. It can mean 40 seconds, or 28 minutes, or 3 hours, or the entire night.

Rafe lets out a quiet sigh as he thinks of coaxing you to get in bed with him again, but he knows it’s not going to work. 

“You better not ‘accidentally’ pull an all-nighter again you hear me?” He says, a tinge of sternness in his voice as he fluffs the pillows once before dropping his head on them. 

You don’t say anything, just make a quick move to turn off the main light of the room and turn on your desk lamp instead. The room plunges into darkness except for the soft glow of your desk light, illuminating your desk and you sitting in front of it.

Rafe turns over on his side to look at you, his hand under his head. He watches you study quietly, your facial features glowing under the desk light and the light from your laptop screen. He tried to keep his eyes open for as long as he can, but the occasional typing of the keyboard, pen scratching against the paper as you write, and your barely audible whispering begin to lull him into a sleep which he finds harder and harder to pull himself from. 

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe shifts in his position, letting out a soft grunt under his breath as he turns over on his side after being on his back. He squints his eyes as he feels a certain light hit his heavy, closed eyelids. He forces them to open, his vision blurry for the first few seconds. As his vision sets and his mind begins to gain consciousness, he realizes your desk light is still on. 

You are crouched over in the chair, your head resting on the table in your arms. Your notes are scattered around and your laptop is open but now under sleep mode. Rafe darts his attention over to the clock, and the numbers 2:32 flash back at him. 

“Jesus,” He mutters under his breath, helping his sleep-ridden body up from the bed. He walks over to your hunched position and gently shakes your shoulder. 

“Babe, babe come sleep in the bed,” His raspy voice comes out. For a moment, you don’t move, but after a few gentle shakes you do, slowly lifting your head up from your arms. 

“What…” You mumble sleepily, your eyes barely open. You are just as sleepy as Rafe, if not more. 

Rafe shuts your laptop close and switches off the desk light, the only light now coming through the small window of your dorm. His hand finds your arm and he gently pulls you up from the chair. 

“Come sleep in bed,” He repeats, his voice still groggy as he helps you up from the desk chair. Your extremely tired body doesn’t put up a fight even once and you let him lead you over to the bed. 

Rafe helps you lie down and he lays next to you, his arms wrapping around your frame in an instant. You succumb to his embrace the very next second and snuggle closer to him, resting your head on his chest. 

Both of you fall asleep after your shared moment of momentary awakeness, your sleepy body tucked snugly against his for the rest of the night. 

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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[bucks-babe]

maybe angel!reader helping bucky thru a panic attack? like he thinks when he dies hes gonna suffer in hell for the stuff the winter soldier did and we calm him down and help him? u can add smut if u want but u dont have to !!

My Guardian, My Angel, My Love

Pairing: Bucky x angel!reader

Summary: For the first time Bucky gets to experience peace because of his sweet angel.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Angst?, actually a lot of angst, I don’t know how it got that way but it did, it gets happy though, fluff, smut (I can’t help myself), oral f!receiving, handjob, awkward sex talk, like really awkward, talk about heaven and dying, talk about life after death and immortality, angels based off of Supernatural but I changed a few things, blood, nearly dying, gunshots, reader doesn’t have a soul but can still love because I said so, reader knows when and how everyone dies but can’t tell them, reader has wings, 3rd person, age gap (reader is eons old), wings being a metaphor for sexual assault?, think Maleficent, no use of Y/N, so many emotions

A/N: This is not supposed to force any religion nor be an accurate representation of any religion. I din't go with panic attack, rather I had him almost die. I was feeling angsty

The moment Bucky’s knees hit the ground he knows it's over, that this is the end. He knew this was the way he would go out, on a mission, desperately trying to atone all his misdeeds. Tendrils of pain shot throughout his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers. When his side hit the ground, he knew it wouldn’t be too long before he went, limbs feeling too heavy. He couldn’t hear Steve screaming for help, scrambling for anything to stop the bleeding.

What Bucky did hear though, was a ruffle, almost like a flock of birds flying by, then a figure he’d never seen before stood above him. She’s here to take me. It didn’t strike Bucky as odd that she was the only thing that was clear, the rest of his view blurry and unfocused. He tried to speak, he really did, but no words came out, the breath leaving his lungs not enough to push any words out.

The woman crouches down, hand cupping his cheek with such softness tears leave his eyes, wiped away by Steve in the quinjet who seemingly can’t see her. “Close your eyes, my love. When you wake up, I’ll be there.” Fuck, this is really happening. Fear coursed through his body, scared of what punishment his sins earned him. I deserve to go to hell for what I’ve done. 

A guttural whine passes his lips; Steve chokes back sobs next to his lifelong friend. “Shh, none of that, now. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise. You can rest now.” All at once, the pain is gone. Bucky feels like he’s floating - it’s wonderful.

Bucky has no problem opening his eyes. What the fuck? This is hell? Well damn. The most wonderful sound meets his ears - a giggle, soft and delicate. “No, my love, this is not hell and you’re not dead.” She comes into view. She’s gorgeous. Wait, I’m alive! Apparently, Bucky says that last part because Steve’s gasp enters his ears.

“Yeah, Buck, you’re alive. Gave us a scare though, didn’t uh, didn’t know if you would make it.” Bucky doesn’t respond right away, too busy looking around for his mystery woman, only to be met with the walls of the med bay. “Hey, I’m right here, Buck, look at me.” It’s not the woman, rather it’s Steve.

“How long was I out? What happened?”

“A few days. It was touch and go for some time but you bounced back. When we were on the mission, Hydra had a sniper posted outside. He got you right in the stomach.” Bucky could hear the emotion in Steve’s voice, the fear of losing his best friend still leaving him shaken up.

“Well, they’re a pretty shitty shot if you ask me. Could have gotten one right between the eyes with one of those shit guns we got in the war.” Steve coughs out a laugh, turning into a belly laugh a few seconds later. Bucky would laugh with him, but the bullet wound in his abdomen says he shouldn’t. He still doesn’t see the woman, though. Maybe I just made her up. 

A few days later, doctor Cho gives him the all clear to leave the med bay; however, he’s off duty for the foreseeable future and not any amount of his grumbling changed her mind. Still, Bucky hasn’t seen the woman. He feels a little crazy that he misses her, well crazier. 

Slowly, he makes his way to his room. Steve offered to help but Bucky wanted to do this on his own, having been tended to his whole stay in hospital. He puts in his password on the keypad Tony installed when Bucky first arrived, when the fear that Hydra would come back and take him was too much to bear. His room is the same way he left it, except for a woman on his bed. Not just any woman though, it was his mystery lady. 

Someone’s gonna have to put me in the cuckoo's nest. She laughs as if she can hear his thoughts. God, I hope not. “God has bigger things to worry about than such an inconspicuous fear as that, my love.” She sits up, facing him, the most beautiful smile gracing her lips.

“Can you hear my thoughts?” He feels like he already knows the answer, but asks anyway. If this woman is made up, of course she can read his mind. She just smiles and rises to her feet, walking over to him.

“What do you think, my love?” She tilts her head, a soft smile still resides on her lips. He feels so safe with her and she isn’t even real, just a figment of his imagination, a ruse to comfort himself in what he thought were his last moments. “I am very real, I’ll have you know.”

Bucky doesn’t know why, but he believes her. He believes this woman who showed up randomly on a field, who his best friend couldn’t see, and who disappeared without a trace. “How then? How did you do it?”

“Do what, my love?” She grabs his hand and leads him to the bed, helping him sit, finding a spot next to him.

“Save me, hear my thoughts, hide from Steve, disappear, get into my room, all of it. It’s not natural. Either you’re a ghost, or a mutant, or a reaper who was trying to take me. I don’t know, but you’re something.” Another laugh escapes her. He should be terrified of her, but he can’t find it in himself to be, her presence emanating calm.

“Well aren’t you a clever one? However, I’m none of those things nor did I save you. It just wasn’t your time yet. I’m an angel, though, to answer your question.” Bucky just stares, not believing her. This has to be a joke. “No joke, my love. If you want, I can prove it to you.” Bucky doesn’t even question why she calls him my love, the sound of it just too nice to stop.

Bucky just nods, words failing him. She rises to her feet, turning to stand in front of him. He hears them before he sees them, the same ruffle he heard as he lay dying. Then he sees them. A pair of dark wings coming from her back. She doesn’t spread them all the way, too big to fit in the small space of his room. “They’re black.” She throws her head back, a loud, beautiful laugh fills his ears. 

“That was your first thought? You don’t like them? Personally I think they’re quite nice.” It was the first thing that came to his mind, the rest blank. Maybe he should have asked for more proof, but he knows she would never lie to him. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just does. 

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought they’d be white. With the whole angel thing, you know?” She hums.

“There is a lot humans have wrong about us. I mean, plenty of us have white wings, but they come in many colors. If you can believe it, this isn’t even my true form.” Bucky is confused, she looks so real. A tangible human, someone he can touch.

“What is your true form then? Can I see it?” That’s a little personal to ask, dumbass.

“Well, that is a little complicated. Only one human has seen my true form and it didn’t go well. I thought she could handle it, but when she saw me, well let’s just say she couldn’t see from then on.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting that answer. “Anything else you want to ask me?”

Her wings are still out, folded against her back. They look so soft. “Can I touch your wings?” Her wings shift slightly. If he wasn’t trained to observe everything and everyone, Bucky wouldn’t have known that she was uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t know-”

“That’s okay. An angel’s wings are very personal. They’re sensitive and even for an ethereal being, it's very personal - intimate.”Clearing her throat, she changes the subject. “I know your name, my love. Might I say, it’s very pretty, but you don’t know mine.” Bucky picks up on her attempt to move his attention away from her wings.

“What is it then? I can’t call you angel forever, however fitting it may be.”

“Well I don’t exactly have a name. I’m a cherubim. The only angels who have names are the archangels, the first borns.”

It was Bucky’s turn to smile.”My little cherub.” She doesn’t tell him that cherub is the plural of cherubim. Until this day, Bucky didn’t know that angels could get shy, yet here his sweet cherub is, shying away from his piercing eyes. He bets if he felt her face he would feel the heat on them. “I have to ask though, my little cherub, why did you come to me?”

She became serious, staring right into his eyes. “Because God commanded it.”

“What does God want to do with me? Out of all the people in this world, he chose me?” A pained look crossed her face and she walked over to him, kneeling in front of him like he was her God. Her hands ran up his arms, goosebumps rising at the pass of her hands. He almost stopped breathing - he could feel her hand on his left arm. He hasn’t felt anything with that hand since he fell of that train.

Hands still rising, she cups his face with both hands, making him look into her eyes. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” It wasn’t a question. She knew. “That is why he sent me. He sent me because you deserve it. You deserve to let go.” At that moment, Bucky broke down. Sobbing uncontrollably, somehow without pain in his fresh wound.

She pulls him into her, wrapping her arms around him. His face buried in her neck, arms clutching her back. She hesitates for a second, no one having touched her wings in thousands of years, yet she cocoons him with them, shielding him from the world. It only makes Bucky cry harder, her wings holding every bit of softness he thought they would. The comfort she brings unlike any other he experienced before.

Her arms rub his back as she coos to him. Soft words spoken into his hair. “Shh, my love, I’m here. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again. I will die before I let that happen.” The conviction in her tone sets him off more, unable to comprehend someone would do that for him without a second thought. A being, older than he can even fathom, is ready to give it all away for a mesley human. A speck of dust in her life. His entire existence no longer than a second when compared to hers.

That’s how it was for a while, Bucky’s sweet cherub staying with him. At night she would wrap her wings around him, keeping him safe. Bucky knows that her powers are the reason his nightmares are gone. At first he was glad that he could finally sleep, but then the guilt crept in. Why should he be allowed to forget the horrors he committed? Their families didn’t get that condolence. 

When he told her this she wasn’t having any of it, wings jerking in annoyance. It was something that he picked up on, how when she experienced emotions her wings would move in different ways, always giving her away. 

“I swear, my love, you’re going to make my wings turn gray with all this. I have lived a long life, longer than you can comprehend, so when I tell you that I have seen the best and the worst of this world, I mean it. And you, my love, are a good man. There is a reason God sent me to you.” Her wings surrounded him and he felt himself relax. “There is no quest to send you on, no mission that the world hangs in the balance of. It’s just you. A man who needs to see the good in himself.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, not meeting her eyes.

“You think your purpose is suffering for the things you couldn’t control? My purpose is to save you. My love,” she cups his face in her hands, wiping away the tears he didn’t know had formed, “I have done far worse things in my life. Horrific things, yet I’m here right now, with you. Please, let me take your pain away.”

None of this was easy for Bucky. No one has ever had their sole purpose be him. Back in the forties he took care of Steve, he stepped up when his father left. When he was no longer the Winter Soldier, Steve helped him, but Steve’s care never felt like this. Bucky knows that he’s fallen in love with her. He knows that she knows, but what he doesn’t know is if she feels the same.

What he doesn’t know is that she is fighting the same battle, the feeling of love is one she has never had before. It all came to a head one night, Bucky wrapped in her wings, her head on his chest. “Cherub?” She felt the vibrations in his chest.

“Yes, my love.”

“You said that we could be together for the rest of my life, right?” She did say that when he was worried that she would leave him after her mission was complete.

“I did.” One thing about her is that she never gave long answers to questions, not used to having to talk with humans.

“What happens when I die? Where will I go? I want you to be there with me.”

She sighed, thinking about how to convey her words properly. “When you die… you’ll go to heaven. It has already been decided. If you choose, when you go, I will be there with you for the rest of our existence, but you don’t have to make a decision now. My body will age with yours, follow you to the end of your life. When your time comes, we will leave and go to heaven where we will both be young again.”

Without hesitation Bucky answers, “I want that. I want you to be with me for the rest of eternity.” There was no doubt in his mind. Even though he met her a few months ago, he knew. “I have to ask, what is heaven like?”

She sits up a bit, shifting to lay on his chest, wings still cocooning them, keeping them in their own little bubble. “There is no one heaven. Not everyone who ever went there is in the same place. Heaven is made up of small pockets of personal heavens. People who lost their loved ones meet again, your happiest memories are relived, there is no pain or sorrow, you can have anything you want.”

Bucky felt the pull of his chest, emotion bubbling up. “Is my ma there? And Becca?” The words come out thick, a lump forms in Bucky’s throat. “Please, don’t lie to me.”

She looks into his eyes. “Yes, they are. They’re together and they’re waiting for you. I have seen them myself, right before I left to meet you. They talk very highly of you, my love.”

Tears fall from his face, the pain in his chest all the time at the greatest loss of his life eased slightly. “Can I talk to them?” He knows it's a long shot, but if there is a chance he wants it.

“I’m so sorry, my love, but I can’t. Even I don’t have the power to do that. If I could, I would.” A pained whine leaves his lips. “Hey, you know who is waiting for you too?” She waits a beat before speaking anyway. “Your dog from when you were a kid. He’s in his prime, always will be. His days are spent chasing rabbits around the yard.”

“Balto’s up there too?” A small smile graced his face, crows feet appearing by his eyes.

“Yeah. If it is any consolation, time passes differently up there. The longing you feel right now for them, they feel the same only it’s made easier by us.” Bucky only nods, staring into her eyes, seeing nothing but truth. His eyes flicker to her lips and back up. “You can, my love, I want you to.”

That was all Bucky needed to hear. Gently cupping her cheek, he guided her lips to his. There was no rush, no sense of urgency. They had all the time in the world and then some. Bucky never felt anything this good in his life and he was only kissing her. When she licked his lips, he opened mouth without a thought, brain clouded with love just for her. 

He moaned into the kiss, the feeling of her tongue on his incredible. At his sound, Bucky felt her wings flutter under him. Breaking the kiss, he giggled. Bucky actually giggled. She reared her head back, slightly affronted by his laugh when she just kissed him.

“I’m sorry, my little cherub, it’s just that your wings tickled me.” She huffs and a second later, her wings are gone the only sign they were ever out is the small black feather on the bed. “No, cherub, don’t put them away. I love them.” She wasn’t really offended, but she wanted to tease him a bit.

Her wings were always out around Bucky, comfortable enough to reveal the most intimate and personal part of herself to him. He was the first human in thousands of years to touch them, but he was the only one to be wrapped in them. The only time they were touched was when a man cut them off her back. It was a time when she trusted humans, not knowing the atrocities they were capable of. 

Her wings were white then, when she was pure and unknowing of the hate humans possessed. God crafted her a new pair. Of course she accepted them, but her feathers turned black, scared she looked to her father. When he said that it was because of the wrongs his creations did, it broke something in her, took away her purity, teaching her a lesson. Father never blamed her for it, he knew she would heal with time. It was part of the reason he sent her to the man she lays in bed with.

Bucky didn’t know this, he didn’t know how much she was betrayed by humans, only for her to trust him and him alone. She playfully glares at him before bringing her wings back out, sitting up on his lap. Gently, more gentle than he has been in years, Bucky reaches out to touch them. She lets him feel them whenever he wants, even wrapping him in them as he sleeps, but this was a completely different setting.

She was so vulnerable at this moment. Her wings flapped, a nervous tick of her’s, making Bucky pull away immediately. “Cherub, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She swallows before meeting his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to touch them. It’s just that only one other human has touched them. There was a time where I was naive and innocent, not knowing what humans were capable of.” She pauses and Bucky sits up, back against the headboard and laces his fingers with hers, feeling the softness on his metal hand.

“It was a man, he had a family, a kid and a wife. They struggled to survive, trading their valuables for a slice of bread. Father sent me to help them, take away their sorrows. Said he was an honest man trying to make an honest living.” Bucky senses where her story is going, hoping that it doesn’t end the way he fears, but the pain in her eyes is palpable, a human emotion angels almost never experience.

He waits for her to continue, not forcing her to speak. “At first, they were grateful, having everything they needed. They had their health, food on the table, but the man grew greedy. He wanted more. One day, as I was watching his child in a field, keeping her safe from the horrors of the world, he snuck behind me with a sword he got from a blacksmith, sharper than any blade. He-he cut my wings right off my back.”

Tears fell from her eyes, not having relived that moment for thousands of years. Bucky felt his heart physically ache. She was sent to heal him, but it was his turn to do the same. “You know, my wings used to be white?” She looks into his eyes, red with tears. “When he hurt me, Father took me back to heaven, crafting me another pair. They were white but when he gave them to me, they turned black.”

A whine leaves her lips and Bucky pulls her into him, careful not to touch her wings. “Oh, my sweet little cherub, I’m here and I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I’ve never felt as content as I have with you, never so happy and I will do anything to keep you safe. I love you, no matter what you have done, I’ll still love you.” This only made her cry harder. Human emotions were foreign to her, but spending so much time with Bucky caused her to develop them. It was almost overwhelming, going from not having anything to having so much fill her body.

“Father said that it was because the man took my innocence, showed me the evil of the world. I’ve never seen him apologize for anything, yet that day he was broken, realizing that his creations, even the ones he thought were good, are capable of unspeakable atrocities. They will never turn white again because I’m ruined.” Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes. His sweet cherub thinking she is anything less than perfect breaks his heart.

“My cherub, you saved me, now let me do the same for you. Let me heal you like you have me.” Leaning back slightly, she took his hands in her own, drawing them up her waist to her back, moving them to touch her wings. At his touch, she gasped, eyes closing forcing more tears to cascade down her face. The feeling of his gentle hands, hands that have done so much harm, resting on the most violated part of her body was something she never thought would happen.

She didn’t know she could love until she met Bucky, finally placing a word to the indescribable warmth that spreads throughout her body every time she thinks of him. “I love you too, my love. Forever and ever, til you die, til the end of time, in heaven and on earth.” They were both crying, neither experiencing the tenderness of love before.

He brings her down, kissing her with as much passion as he possibly could, tasting the mixture of both of their tears. Her arms clutching onto him, trying to get closer. He did the same, one hand running across her wings like he was trying to wash away the taint of betrayal his kind caused. 

Shifting on his lap, she feels the bulge of his cock, half hard pressed up against her. Gasping, she pulls away. “Cherub, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it just-.” She silences him with her lips, drawing a groan from him, subconsciously grinding down onto him. “Cherub, we have to stop, I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’re vulnerable right now, I can’t do that to you.”

Her hips stutter on his. “My love, I want to, I need to. Need to be closer to you, please grant me this.” His hands run up and down her sides, soothing the heat of her skin.

“Any time you want to stop, or don’t like something, you tell me. Okay? This is about me showing you how perfect you are.” She nods, kissing him one more time. Bucky’s hands slide up her shirt, resting on her soft skin, palms feeling the goosebump under his touch. Looking up at her for permission to take her shirt off, she nods.

Bucky did that with every piece of clothing, every move he made. Soon they were both naked, her wings splayed out on the bed, twitching in a way he never saw before - arousal. “My, my love, I have to tell you something.” He pulls his eyes away from her wings to look into her eyes. “I’ve never done this before. Angels, we don’t do this, I don’t know what to feel right now.” 

Hands cupping her cheeks, he smiles at her, relaxing into his touch. “Do you feel safe?” She nods. “Do you feel like you have to do this for me?” She shakes her head. “Do you want me to please you?” She nods once again. “We don’t have to do anything with this,” he gestures to his throbbing erection. 

“I want to, I just need you to show me what to do.” The thought that she trusts him enough to take care of her makes his cock pulse, aching for some type of relief.

“Let me make you feel good, okay? All you have to do is lay back and tell me how it feels.” She nods her head in understanding, worries slowly fading away. He kisses down her body, taking the time to swirl his tongue around his sensitive nipples, grinning at the small gasp it draws from his cherubs lips.

Going further down, his face is right in front of her pussy, smelling her intoxicating scent. “Keep your eyes on me, cherub.” She gulps. For a minute, Bucky just stares at her pussy, breathing her in, memorizing how wet she is before his tongue flicks out onto her clit. 

“Oh, that feels good. Can you do it again?” She was so sweet, asking so kindly for him to deliver her pleasure.

“Of course I can.” And with that, Bucky dives into her pussy, restraining himself from devouring her. He groans into her cunt, already addicted to her taste, the moans she lets out are soft and breathy, yet it’s one of the most beautiful things he's ever heard, only competition being her laugh.

“My love, I don’t, what is happening to me?” Bucky pulls away from her cunt, reaching up to lace their hands together. 

“Just let that feeling wash over you. It’s okay, I’ll catch you when you fall, I’m here.” He goes right back to her pussy, lapping her juices up, eyes boring into hers. She was twitching on the bed, hips bucking up to meet his tongue. Bucky chuckles when he sees her wings flap, not knowing what to do with the pleasure coursing through her.

Her orgasm comes as a surprise to her, never experiencing one before, nor knowing what they were. Her eyes shoot open, wings beating wildly, body almost convulsing on the soft sheets. Bucky pulls away, not trying to overstimulate her. He almost cums at the sight of her, it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

It takes her a while, but she comes down, wings falling limp on the bed as Bucky crawls up her body, resting in between her legs. “My love, what was that? I thought I was about to die.” 

Barking out a laugh, Bucky leans down. “That was an orgasm, sweet cherub. How did it feel?” She whines, not able to put what she felt into words.

“Like nothing I have ever felt before. It was incredible.” Her eyes close. Bucky is perfectly happy to hold her, not caring about his own orgasm, but her eyes shoot open, wide and curious. “Can you have one, too?”

Another laugh leaves him. “Yes, cherub, I can. It’s a little different from yours though.” Her eyes squint in confusion, clearly not understanding what could be different. “Well, for one, what I have looks a little different to yours, doesn’t it?” She nods. Bucky never thought he would be giving “The Talk” to an angel, but here he was. “When I have an orgasm, stuff comes out of this tip, right here.” He grabs his cock to show her. 

“Can I see it? How do I make you do that?” It was Bucky’s turn to be surprised. 

“Cherub, you don’t have to do that.” Her glare is enough to make Bucky continue. “Um, there are a few different ways. I could put it inside of you, that feels good for you too.”

“In where?” Bucky huffs, not in annoyance, but this talk is turning him off. Not that he’s mad at that, but the conversation feels like talking to a child, someone who hasn’t experienced anything sexual and it wasn’t exactly turning him on, it felt wrong to have this talk naked.

“In this hole right under where I was touching you. There is another one under that, but it’s different from the other. Or your mouth, but also a hand. Pretty much anything that could rub against that area.” Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. His cock was going soft right in front of her eyes.

“Can I do one? I want to see you orgasm.” Her eyes were so bright and eager, he couldn’t say no to his cherub. He nods, only for her to glance down at his soft cock. “Why is it smaller now? I think it’s kind of cute.”

This has to be the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him. No woman has ever called his dick cute, or made a comment on its size when soft. He gets compliments on how big he is when he’s hard, but soft is a different story. He’s a grower not a shower. He has to admit, his encounter is damaging his ego a bit. “It gets bigger when I’m aroused, but if it’s not touched it gets softer.” He’s lying straight through his teeth, he can stay hard for hours without touching his dick.

“If you touch it, it gets big again.” She switches positions, having him on his back, resting between his legs, face right next to his cock. He feels himself twitch and she jerks her head in surprise, giggling at her own reaction. She begins to almost pet him, it feels good but not what he needs.

He reaches down, guiding her hand to gather the precum at his tip, slowly pulling it back down, tightening her grip on his dick. “Oh, wow, it’s getting bigger. It’s so hard.” Her amazement at something so simple as a dick getting hard is endearing. 

Bucky grunts when he twists her hand. “I liked that sound.” Her words make him groan again, cock all the way hard. His hips buck into her hand and he lets her hand go, trusting her to keep her pace. It’s slow but firm, driving him insane. He wants her to go faster, harder, but this is about her, letting her discover at her own pace.

“Spit on the tip, it’ll make it easier to move.” She does so without hesitation. Bucky’s head flies back into the headboard, moaning at her soft hands working his cock. “Just like that, cherub, you’re doing so good. This feels incredible.” Bucky meant every word of it. Her hand honestly felt better than the full blown sex he’s had in the past. Maybe it was because he loved her with all his heart, or maybe it was because she was an angel, either way, Bucky didn’t have it in himself to care.

“You look so pretty like this, my love. I love this, making you feel good.” Bucky’s hips pick up speed, feeling his orgasm building up in the base of his cock. 

“Cherub, I’m going to cum. Please keep going just like that.” She figures he means orgasm since he is jerking just like she was. The urge to make him orgasm was almost too much to bear, wanting him to show her how beautiful he was when he lets go. “Oh, cherub, I’m about to, oh fuck.” He moans long and loud, cum spurting out of his tip. She gasps at the force of it but doesn’t let up her pace. She had never seen anything more beautiful than her love in this moment.

He has to stop her, not knowing that he needed a break. “Love, I want to make you do that again.” She scoops some of his cum off his stomach with her finger and just stares at it.

“You can taste it if you’d like.” She eagerly licks her fingers, eyes bulging at his taste, dropping down to lick the rest of it off his body. “Come here, cherub.” He pulls her into a kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. He pulls the cover over their bodies, her wings instinctively wrapping around him.

“Thank you, my love, for always taking care of me. I was sent to save you, yet I feel that it’s the other way around.” Bucky doesn’t think so. He knows that she saved him. They fall asleep together and in the morning they will find that her wings are just a bit lighter than the night before.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 1

Word Count: 5.9k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fucking on furniture, orgasm control, premature ejaculation, masturbation, PIV sex, toxic relationships.

“Stay home” Beomgyu holds you from behind, kissing your neck

“We can’t. I’ve canceled on them too many times now.” You whine. Beomgyu keeps doing this. Every time you try to hang out with your friends he pouts and whines until you stay home with him. It was cute at first–how he couldn’t get enough of you–but now your friends are actually getting pissed at the both of you. 

“But I missed you.” You can feel his pout on your skin as his lips brush over it. 

“We hang out every day. We live together!” You protest, but you’re unable to keep the chuckle from your voice.

“I know but that’s not what I mean.” He mumbles cryptically and you turn your head towards him. “Then what do you mean?” 

He flushes and buries his face in the crook of your neck so you wouldn’t see him. “Never mind. It’s stupid”

You grab his long hair, gently lifting his head up so you can lock eyes with him. “No, tell me.”

He lets out a shaky sigh. “It’s just… you ever feel like you and someone else are two halves of the same soul and you’ve spent and will spend all your lifetimes trying to reunite with them and when you finally do, you just can’t bear to let go?”

You’re rendered speechless by his impassioned, if self-conscious, speech because it captured exactly what you’ve always felt about him but was too scared to say in case you scare him off. 

You met Beomgyu while at work at the coffee shop at the local mall around christmas time last year. You spotted this adorable guy in front of your store dressed in the most ridiculous teddy bear sweater you’ve ever seen, collecting donations to buy toys for the kids at the local shelters. You fell for him at first sight and wherever he’d show up, you’d spend your entire shift stealing glances at him to the point that even your coworkers noticed. You couldn’t get over how sweet what he was doing was and you so badly wanted to go up to him and tell him that but you didn’t want to come across as a weirdo. It was only after your coworkers’ incessant nagging that you finally mustered up the courage to go up to him, hot drink in hand, offering it to him and telling him how much you admired what he was doing and how cute he his sweater was. 

The conversation flowed much more easily than you could have ever anticipated–almost like you two were meant to be–and from then on it became your daily routine to bring him a cup of coffee during your break and have a chat with him until you were yelled at by your boss for taking too long. 

And when Christmas day was fast approaching and the both of you knew he wouldn’t be there much longer, a snarky comment from your boss finally brought the two of you together and forced you to get over your trepidation. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. She likes you. He likes you. She finishes her shift at 6. Come pick her up. She likes sunflowers.” 

And that is how you and Beomgyu started dating. 

“Well now I can't go.” You lament, and he smiles radiantly, victorious. 

God your friends are gonna be so mad.

But it’s hard to think about that when his lips are attached to your neck, sucking at your most sensitive spots as he grinds his dick into your ass. 

“You look so sexy in that dress.” He murmurs wantonly, groping your tits coarsely over said dress. 

“Careful or you’re gonna blow your load on my ass.” You tease, referring to the first time you two got intimate. He was so excited then that he ended up cumming just from a little grinding. He’s lucky he’s so cute and that you found his enthusiasm endearing because if any other guy had cum so prematurely like that, you would’ve probably kicked his ass out the door. But also he ended up eating you out for the rest of the night until your legs turned into jelly to make it up to you, so it wasn’t too bad. 

Beomgyu pulls your dress down over your tits so he can play with them directly as he sucks on the skin of your neck, and you can feel your arousal begin to build up between your legs. 

"Beomgyu…" 

"My sensitive baby." He chuckles, index fingers flicking your nipples. You squeeze your thighs together in need and push your ass back against his cock pointedly. "Fuck me, Beomgyu."

It doesn’t take much prompting to get Beomgyu to give in. He has always been needy for you and today was no different. He pushes you against the table, flipping the skirt of your dress up and pulling your underwear out of the way before he pushes himself inside you, filling you up so perfectly as if he was made for you. 

“Oh, Beomgyu…” You gasp, clawing at the wooden surface of the table. This is hardly new to you. Beomgyu has fucked you on every surface of this house, many times. He's insatiable. He just can't get enough of you, and neither you him. 

“Baby, I don’t think I will last long.” He grunts into your ear and you chuckle breathlessly. “Of course not. You never could resist my pussy, huh?”

“No.” He shakes his head, driving his cock into you harshly. 

“Then cum. Show me how much you need me.” 

“Fuck, I do. I do, baby.” He groans, pressing his hips flush against your ass as he empties his seed inside of you. 

“Well, that was quick.” You giggle when he catches his breath and he whines, flipping you over on your back and pulling your thighs up against your body. You know what’s coming next. Beomgyu can never leave you unsatisfied and when he finishes too early like this he usually makes it up to you by giving you the best oral of your life. 

But when he sees his cum dripping out of your swollen pussy, he stops and stares, almost hypnotized by the sight, and a far away look takes over his face. 

"What?" You ask, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Nothing."

“Do you like seeing me dripping with your seed? Are you thinking of knocking me up?” You tease, and his head snaps up to look at you at a neck-breaking speed, a horrified look on his face. 

Fuck, did you read the situation wrong? Why did you say that? You don’t know why you said that!

Actually you do. You had another one of your dreams today–the ones where Beomgyu is a prince and you’re a lady at court and you’re in love. Beomgyu doesn’t like hearing about them much. He calls them silly and always brushes them off, not wanting to hear about them. But his lack of enthusiasm doesn’t stop you from having them, and each one feels more real than the other, as if it had actually happened. As if you were recalling memories of a previous life. And the latest dream was no different. 

"Our children are not going to want for anything.” Dream Beomgyu says, hand splayed protectively over your tummy. 

“What?” Real-life Beomgyu sputters, and you explain yourself shyly, sitting up and covering yourself as you chuckle nervously. “I just… I had a dream that I was pregnant with your baby. You know, when you were a prince…” 

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. His face immediately hardens and his reaction this time surpasses mere distaste and veers into anger.. “I was never a prince. None of your dreams ever happened. They’re just meaningless dreams. Don’t be stupid.” 

"Stupid?" You draw back at the sudden outburst. 

"Yes. The whole prince thing is stupid. You need to get out of your head and come back to reality. The whimsical, superstitious act is not cute anymore." He snaps, far too much vitriol in his voice for such a silly topic.

"Why are you being such an ass? Would it hurt you to just listen and laugh with me? Or is the idea of us having a baby together so appalling to you?" You don’t know why you’re going so hard to defend your dreams or why he feels the need to tear them down, but you can’t ignore the sudden shift after he heard you mention the possibility of having a child together, and his answering laugh cuts you deep.

"You don't know anything." Beomgyu says, getting cryptic like he always gets whenever you talk about your dreams. Usually you’d let it go, but not this time. Not when he was so disgusted with the idea of having a child with you.  

"Don't know what?" You ask, frustrated. “That you find the thought of having a child with me so appalling?”

"I don't want to talk about this right now."

Of course, he never wants to talk about it. He always runs away whenever the topic of discussion gets too serious for his liking. For a guy who is so self-proclaimed obsessed with you, he sure does work hard to avoid these meaningful talks. Well, if he wants to avoid it so bad then you’ll make it easy for him. 

"Fine." You hop off the table and go to the bathroom to clean yourself up and change your underwear before going back out, intending to leave the apartment to get some fresh air and most importantly, to get away from Beomgyu. 

But Beomgyu has other ideas, following you at every step like a second shadow, and when he sees you going for the door, he steps in between you and it. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

"I'm coming with you." He states decidedly and you can’t keep the snort out of your mouth. He always does this. He always makes decisions for you. Well, not this time. "No. I need space." 

But he shakes his head firmly. "You're angry. I don't want to let you go angry."

Beomgyu always hated parting from you on bad terms. He always needed to make sure everything was okay before he let you out of his sight. It was sweet at first. You might’ve even considered it healthy at some point, but right now it’s driving you up the wall. Arguments can't always be resolved on the spot, especially when one party refuses to even talk, and so forcing you to be together just ends up with you lashing out because you can't blow off steam. 

But Beomgyu doesn’t care. He just doesn't want you out of his sight. 

"Beomgyu, for fuck's sake, get out of my way. I don’t want to be around you right now." 

"You know I can't let you go angry." He reiterates as if that is a necessity you had to cave to. 

"You're going to have to learn to. If you won’t talk to me then you have to at least give me some space.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.” You shout, angry and fed up with him. “I don't know what the fuck happened to you in the past to traumatize you like this, because god knows you refuse to tell me, but I can’t coddle you about it anymore. I need to take a breather and I don’t care if you–”

"I lost a baby before." He utters softly but it was deafening to you. 

"What?" 

“Me and my ex, we had a baby on the way but I lost both of them. That’s why the idea of having a baby freaks me out so much. I can’t handle losing another one. I can’t handle losing you.… it’s just–it’s–” He starts tearing and stuttering his words, looking distraught as he attempts to explain himself to you, and you feel absolutely wretched for doubting him. You’re such a fucking bitch for forcing him to reveal this to you, but you’re also selfishly glad he did. Even this tiny sliver of his past is much needed context to explain the man you love so dearly. 

“I—I don’t know what to say.” You pathetically utter after an exorbitant amount of time, never having expected such a revelation. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You take him into your arms and he sobs against you, holding onto you tightly. "I want to have a child with you. Nothing would make me happier. You have no idea. But I'm just too scared." 

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want to have a child right now. We can talk about it again in the future. We’ll work it out together, okay?” You pull back slightly–not stepping out of his tight embrace, not that he would’ve let you–and take his face into your hands, wiping his tears off. 

He nods pitifully. “Okay.” 

You should’ve left it at that. He’s in a bad state. You should be comforting him right now, but you’re selfish and this might be the only time he’ll open up to you, and now you have to know. 

"Did… did you love her?" 

"With all my heart." He doesn’t hesitate in answering and you feel a pang of jealousy towards his deceased lover. How fucked up, is that? "More than me?"

He is quiet for a while and every second that passes in silence tears your heart apart. 

"There is no one I love more than you." He finally says and you let out a sigh of relief that was entirely too obvious. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m being such a bitch. I’m jealous of a dead girl, how crazy is that?” You ramble nervously, but Beomgyu stops you with a kiss. 

“That’s okay, baby. I know you don’t mean it like that.” He reassures you and you sigh in relief once more. He never judges you for the messed up thoughts you sometimes get. He always understands and emphasizes and that’s part of the reason why you love him so much. 

Still you keep the rest of your questions about her to yourself. It must be a sore subject for him given how he was so protective of it before. The only thing you need to know right now is that you’re the love of his life, not her, not anyone else. You.

____________________

“He’s not trying to keep me away from you. He’s just really clingy. No, he’s not manipulating me–” Your heated defense of your boyfriend is cut off when you spot said boyfriend standing in the doorway of the kitchen where you had been taking your friend’s call so he wouldn’t overhear it. Well, so much for that.

“Oh shit, I'll call you back.” You mutter to your friend and end the call, cutting off the protests on the other line. 

“Was that Yunjin?” He asks and you nod guiltily. Yunjin doesn’t like Beomgyu. She made that very clear to the point that despite you not telling him, he knows it well. 

“She’s just being Yunjin. Don’t mind her.” You try to smooth things over but he shakes his head. “No, it’s my fault. I’m not helping things by keeping you all to myself. It’s just because I love being with you so much, you know that right?”

“I know, baby.” You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love spending time with you too–hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t you come along? It would be killing two birds with one stone, hanging out with my friends while still being with you. And it’s been so long since they’ve last seen you. I’m sure once they get a look at your cute face, they’d forget all their reservations.” 

You laugh, but Beomgyu looks nervous. “I don’t know. They don’t really like me anymore.” 

“Because they don’t see much of you and you’re taking over all my attention. If they see more of you, they’d fall in love with you all over again.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. You’re irresistible, puppy.” 

_________________________________________

And just like you said, things go well. After your friends get over the initial annoyance that you brought Beomgyu along, they start warming up to him once the conversation starts flowing and Beomgyu’s radiant personality shines through. You’ve even caught Yunjin crack a smile or two at his antics. 

But all your high hopes come crashing down when another person joins your party. The stranger’s name is Taehyun, and he’s apparently the new roommate of one of your friends, which is fine enough, he seems like a nice guy and you’ve always welcomed new additions to your group. 

Beomgyu on the other hand, must feel differently, because as soon as Taehyun joins you, his whole demeanor shifts and he becomes closed off and snappy, getting mean with his comments that were all seemingly directed at the newcomer. It was starting to ruin the mood, making your friends mad again, and so when he makes yet another snarky remark to something Taehyun innocuously said, you have to pull him aside and ask him what his problem is. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Beomgyu? My friends were just starting to warm up to you again. Why are you being such a dick?” 

“I want to go home. I don’t feel very good.” He lies, and you know it’s a lie because he doesn’t sell it very well, glaring daggers at the table where your friends are seated.

“Then go home.” You snap, having little remaining patience for his behavior. 

He gives you a look of betrayal. “You know I can’t leave without you.” 

“You’re going to have to if you can’t act like a fucking adult. The reason I invited you is because I wanted to help smooth things over between you and my friends. I wanted to prove to them that you’re not the manipulative asshole they think you are, but honestly the way you’re acting right now, makes me wonder if maybe they are right and–”

“No they’re not.” He cuts you off, lips tightly pressed together. “Fine, we'll stay.” 

“Beomgyu…” You eye him with doubt but he insists. “I’m fine. Let's go.” 

He drags you back to the table and you stop your protests so your friends can’t hear it. 

Beomgyu is quiet for a while, which doesn’t make for pleasant company, but at least he’s not being an asshole. Well, not for a bit anyway. Because once Taehyun mentions he’s looking for a job and you tell him that your place of work is hiring, Beomgyu starts acting up again.  

“I’m sure he doesn’t want to work as a barista, honey.” Beomgyu speaks over you, but Taehyun rebuts him. “I do. The hours sound good for a student like me and the work doesn’t sound too hard. It’s perfect.”

Once again, Beomgyu speaks instead of you. “But you seem like an intelligent guy. Surely serving coffee to other people would be embarrassing for you.”

“What the hell, Beomgyu?” You hiss, mortified at his implication, and in front of all your friends too. Is that what he really thinks? Does he think your job is embarrassing?

“I just mean that he could be doing something else.” 

“And what does that make me? A loser who isn’t good for anything except serving people coffee, a job you apparently think is humiliating for someone intelligent to have?” 

“You’re overthinking it, baby. I didn’t mean–”

“Oh, I didn’t think my dumb brain was capable of overthinking.” You laugh tearfully, and stand up before your friends could see you cry. “Excuse me.” 

You storm out of the restaurant and Beomgyu follows after you. 

“Baby!” 

You whip around and scream at him. “If you think what I do is so demeaning then why are you even with me?”

“I don’t think that.” He denies vehemently, “I just didn’t want him to work with you. I got bad vibes from that dude.” 

"Not this again.” You groan. Of course this is why he was behaving in such a bizarre and rude manner. Beomgyu is a jealous guy. You tried reassuring him a million times that he’s the only guy for you but to no avail. He gets paranoid and thinks every guy you interact with will steal you away from him, and here he is doing it again. “Are you seriously fucking jealous of a guy I don’t even know?"

“I am not jealous.” He tries to deny, badly. “I told you I got bad vibes from him.”

“Bad vibes?” You laugh hysterically. “If bad vibes are all it takes then I would’ve broken up with you long ago because all my friends got bad vibes from you.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Your friends hate me. They’ll say anything to tear us apart. I bet they even invited that guy just to piss me off.” 

"Oh my god, are you listening to yourself? You’re so–ugh, just please leave me alone, Beomgyu." You try to walk away from him but he quickly reaches out and grabs you by the arm, turning you around to face him, freaked out. "No, please stay."

"Let me go, Beomgyu." You demand, your anger bubbling to dangerous level but Beomgyu stand firm. “No. You can’t leave me.”

“Let me go.” 

“No.” 

“I’m serious, Beomgyu. Leave me the fuck alone.” 

“No.”

You can’t help it. He’s driving you insane, and you can’t hold back anymore. You slap him. 

But you immediately regret it when you see the red mark beginning to bloom across his cheek. 

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. You just drive me–" He kisses you passionately, holding onto you even tighter. 

"Do anything you want to me, I don’t mind. Just don't leave me." He breathes against your lips, eyes looking crazed in their desperation. 

God, this is sick. You shouldn’t entertain this kind of twisted trade-off. You should push him away and demand he leave you be. You shouldn’t take him up on his offer to let you unload your frustrations physically onto him. Maybe you should even end it…

But you can’t. You’re as invested in this as he is. You don’t want to break up with him. You don’t want to leave him. You just want to punish him for the crazy way he’s behaving. You want to feel like you’re not letting him get away with this without actually having to break up with him .

And so you accept his sick offer.

_______________________________

"You're so pathetic, Beomgyu." 

He shudders at your words, and you don’t know if he likes it or hates it. All you know is he tries to reach out to you but his hands are held back by the bindings you’ve fashioned out of your scarves. 

He cries out for you but you have no mercy for him. This is the punishment he chose for himself and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it. 

“You’ve really pissed me off this time, Beomgyu. Acted so crazy just so I wouldn’t leave you. Well, now you get to sit back and watch me fuck myself and you can do nothing about it.” You taunt him as you ride the dildo you have strapped around his abdomen, his own cock brushing up against your ass every time you move, getting enough stimulation to keep him hard but not nearly enough to get him off. 

"Please, sit on my cock. It feels better than that plastic toy. I'm all hard and ready for you. Ride me, please. Cum on my dick. Use me instead of that toy." He babbles, but you don’t listen. 

You want to make him suffer, and you’re scared to dwell too long on where that emotion comes from. You love your boyfriend. You’ve never wanted to hurt him before, but he really pushed you too far this time. 

"You did this. You’re making me do this to you. You’re being a terrible boyfriend." 

"No, don’t say that.” He shakes his head vehemently, getting teary. “I'm sorry. I’ll do anything to make it better. Whatever you want." 

"Will you let him work with me?" You hazard to ask and his face immediately transforms. "No." 

You scoff–so much for being apologetic–and ride the dildo faster, moaning out loud just to piss him off. You see him struggling and feel him trying to buck his hips against you but he can’t accomplish much more than his cock just grazing your ass. 

Still, you can feel the wetness from the precum touching your skin. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” 

“You just don’t know what you are to me.” He counters, leaving you speechless. One thing about Beomgyu is that he will never fail to tell you just how much you mean to him. It’s why you’ve always been so weak when it comes to him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t punish him for his behavior. “Clearly not much if you don’t even trust me to work with him.” 

“You don’t know.” He insists, but doesn’t deny your claim which pisses you off even more. 

“Don’t know what? That you think I’ll cheat on you if given the slightest chance? Is that something she did to you? Is that why you’re so fucked up?”

His silence is all you need to know, and you don’t know if you should feel bad for him that the woman he loved so much cheated on him, or angry that he assumes you would do the same just because she did. 

“Fuck you, Beomgyu.” The two emotions mix together and fuel you further, and you put your hand between your legs to touch yourself, getting yourself off if only just to spite him, knowing how much he needs to always be the cause of your pleasure. 

“Baby, please.” He begs, seeing you inch closer to your end, and it’s killing him that he’s not the reason for it. Little does he know that his desperation and blinding need for you is the greatest contributor to your impending fall over the edge. 

But you don’t let him know that, jumping erratically on the dildo and attacking your poor clit with your fingers, sending yourself off on the most emotionally exhausting orgasm of your life. 

“Baby…” You can hear him whimper pitifully in the background, his shape blurry in front of you as you fight off your own tears. “Baby…”

“What is it?” You hiss after your orgasm passes, anger finally overpowering the lust. “Do you want to cum? Is that what you’re concerned about? Your dick?”

“That’s not it.” He tries to deny it but you’re already untying him. And despite his denial, as soon as his hands are free, he tries to reach out to grab you but you take his hands and forcefully pull them off your body. He tries to fight you but you hiss sharply at him, "Stay." 

He whimpers but listens, and when he looks like he won’t go back on his words, you let go of his hands. "Touch yourself."

"I want you to touch me." He whines and you slap his thigh. "You don't get to make demands. Not after the way you behaved in front of my friends. You embarrassed me!"

"I'm sorry." He mewls, one hand going to his dick and the other playing with his nipples, putting on a show for you, needing to gain your favor once again. Which is precisely why you lean over him to grab your phone from the night stand and unlock it, pretending to be scrolling through it as he jerks off. 

“Baby!” He protests heatedly, reaching out to touch you. Beomgyu fucking hates it when you don’t give him any attention. He withers without it.  

“Did I say you could touch me?” You seethe, not bothering to take his hands off this time, opting instead to intimidate him into it, and thankfully he retracts his hands at your tone as if it had burned him. 

“Keep jerking off.” You instruct, and as soon as he does, you go back to looking at your phone. 

"Look at me." He whines, but doesn’t stop this time. You can hear the wet sounds of his hand moving over his cock and see the movement out of the corner of your eyes.

“Please.” 

You ignore him. 

“Just look at me.” 

You keep looking at your phone. 

"Princess…."

You snap your head up, narrowing your eyes at him. He never called you that. In fact, he almost makes it a point not to call you that so he wouldn’t “feed into your prince delusion”. So for him to say that right now was really low. Not that Beomgyu cared, as long as he had your attention. 

"Yeah, yeah, that's it." He moans, thrusting into his fist.

Maybe it's sick. Maybe you're enabling his behavior but god, was it so sexy to have him so completely obsessed with you that just your gaze is enough to get him off. 

“Is this what you want, Beomgyu? For me to look at you and see how you’re such a pathetic slut that you can’t even get off without me giving you my attention?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t even try to deny it, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes. Never want you to look away from me. I missed you so much.” He hiccups, thrusting up into his tight fist. 

Here he goes again, talking about how much he misses you. You’re sure if you spend every single second of your life with him he’d still complain about missing you. You can’t call him out too much on it though–not when you feel the same, not when you thrive on it. 

“Can I cum?” Beomgyu asks breathlessly and you sneer down at him. “No.” 

He lets out a heart-broken moan, hand clenching at your thigh. “No. Please. Need to cum.”

"You don't deserve it. Stop." You say cooly, and he wails. "Please. I need to cum. I can’t–I can’t.”

His voice gets high and breathy, strung out, but you don’t care. No, you relish in it, knowing what you’ll make him do next. "Stop."

He cries out, shaking his head violently, not stopping. "No. No. I need it."

You can see how close he is. You can see his cock flushing red, his balls tightening and his precum pouring out of his head. You have to put a stop to it, physically removing his hands yourself, but as soon as you touch him he loses it, staining your belly with his cum. 

"Ah--ah--oh god–please touch me–please." He bucks his hips in the air, unable to reach you, and cries, tears pouring down his face. "I love you. I love you. Please use me. Please don't leave me.” 

You've never been this rough with Beomgyu and for a second you wonder if you're going too far, but he looks so fucked out by the way you’re being mean to him that you can’t back down now.

Still he is your sweetheart. He’ll always be your sweetheart and you can’t bear to see him in such distress, even if he brought it onto himself with his jealous and obsessive ways.

"Hush, Beomgyu." You murmur, grabbing his dick and jerking him off. He gasps from the overstimulation, his hooded eyes blowing wide as he grabs onto the sheets, but he doesn’t stop you, thrusting his hips up into your grip instead. 

"Ah–oh fuck–AHH–" 

"Cum for me, Beomgyu." Your hand blurs over his cock, wet slapping sounds filling the room as your fist collides with his balls on each downstroke. 

"Yes–princess–all for you." If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve found the sound of him calling you ‘princess’ the most natural thing in the world. As if he had always done it. As if he truly believes it. 

But it’s all just to get you to give him what he wants, and sadly, it works. You’re as weak for him as he is for you. It’s unhealthy–is what your friends have told you after his charms have worn off in their eyes, but you fear it would never wear off for you. You’re absolutely, sickeningly in love with him and that’s why you’ll always make excuses to let him do the crazy things he does to you and for you. 

And the things you do to him. 

Beomgyu looks spent after his orgasm and he tries to pull you down in his arms to cuddle, but you stop him. 

"Wait a second." You say, grabbing a few tissues and wiping yourselves off. 

His hold on you remains so tight you feel his heart beat furiously against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I’ve said. I just don't want you to work with him."

You look up at him, mind a little clearer now that you’re all wrapped up in his warmth, feeling safe in his embrace. 

"I will work with him. You need to get over your jealousy. I've had enough." You inform him simply. Yes, you’ve done nothing but entertain his delusions so far, but it’s high time for you to starting actually doing something about it. You know you’ll only be ruining yourself later if you don’t. Who knows what he’ll demand next if you let this go. For you to not talk to other men? To stop seeing your friends who are trying to tear you apart? To quit your job so you’d always be around him? No, you have to put your foot down now. 

Beomgyu looks so pissed off at what you’ve said, but he doesn’t say anything. He just holds you tightly, burying his face in your neck and gripping onto you so hard, you’re sure his fingers will leave marks. That’s fine. You’ll just wear something to cover the bruises. Just as long as you make this work. 

________________________________________

That night, you have another dream about prince Beomgyu, but this time a new character makes an appearance, and that is Lord Taehyun. 

"What are you doing here?" Dream Beomgyu bursts into your room, finding you and Taehyun together. 

"I came to visit the lady." Taehyun’s demeanor appears relaxed but you can see the tension around the edges of his mouth.

"Beomgyu, relax–" You try to calm him down, and he turns on you. "How long has he been here? Did he do anything to you?" 

“No, we just talked!” You snap, trying to yank your hand back from him but his grip is bruisingly-tight.“How did he get in?” 

“That’s none of your business.” You refuse to tell him but that just sets him off.

“You are my business.” He shouts, making Taehyun get up, “Let her go. You’re hurting her.” 

“Fuck you.” Beomgyu was becoming aggressive, and Taehyun looked quite on edge himself. You knew you had to be the one to de-escalate this situation before it exploded so you step closer to Beomgyu and hiss in his ear. “Get a grip, Beomgyu.” You hiss lowly at him then turn to Taehyun with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Taehyun. I need to talk to Beomgyu privately.” 

The dream ends there, and when you wake up in the morning, you make no mention of it to Beomgyu.

_____________________

A/N: Well its' finally here folks. Don't know how many chapter this will be but I hope you like it anyway.

[jinxfavoritwlw]

JINXXGIRL READER❗️

Contains: Stalking, domjinx, hair pulling,strap on, licking, switch, rough sex, dirty talk.

(In this one-shot your name will be Victoria)

Enjoy🫶🏻

Overview: you’re starting to notice something weird like someone is watching you. One night you find out who it is and decides to confront them but what you didn’t expect is that it’s the girl you’ve been fangirling over.

11pm Saturday night

Victoria’s pov

My suspicion grew more as I kept hearing something moving under my bed, at first I thought that it could be a rat or an insect but at the thought of that grossed me out and I didn’t even bother to look. It’s weird because last night I heard something from my closet and the day before that I felt someone breathing behind me while I was asleep. Am I going crazy ? Or maybe I just haven’t gotten enough sleep? A ghost maybe ? No something doesn’t sit right.

This time I decided to found out myself, I started of with looking under my bed. Nothing. I then checked my closet still nothing, I looked under my desk I still couldn’t find anyone. I even checked inside my bathroom and I couldn’t find anything.

As I scratched the back of neck trying to figure out what to do now I suddenly felt someone behind me. Not that I could see it but i definitely could feel the presence of someone, My body tensed up, I felt my hands getting sweating and I started to feel nervous. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down taking deep breaths and hoping that it was nothing. After a moment of silence I slowly turned my head back to check still having my eyes closed with my teeth clenched My heart beat began to pound faster, I took my last deep breath before slowly opening my eyes.

When I finally opened them a great relief left my body there was no one. Only my desk filled with makeup and accessories and my coat hanging by my door. “Phew, maybe I might be going crazy after all?” I chuckled as I spoke to myself, “oh well” I once again muttered before turning the lights off. I climbed on to my bed and tucked myself under my covers. As I were slowly getting tired and was about to fall asleep I felt a hand on my waist, I quickly opened my eyes and saw purple eyes that was glowing right into my soul. “AHH A DEMON!!” Seeing that made me scream and jump off my bed hitting my head on the ground. “Jeez that was a-bit offensive don’t ya think princess?” a feminine raspy voice spoke up. she slid off my bed, to stand there for a moment, just staring at me. I looked up and saw nothing but two purple eye balls staring directly at me. “Who the fuck are you?! And what are you doing in my house NO ACTUALLY IN MY ROOM!” I screamed as I was still on the helplessly on the ground. There’s was silence then I felt her stepping closer to me, I slowly backed up till my back hit the wall leaving no more space to move back further.

Jinx’s pov

As the helpless girl kept backing up I continued to follow her till she had no more space. A grin appeared on my face as the excitement grew stronger in me. I went down on knee and went closer to her face our noses almost touching. “No need to be scared I won’t bite” I said with a low tone in my voice. The girl then started stuttering trying to act brave as she wasn’t nervous of my presence, How cute. “Answer my question.” She then said trying to sound imitating. I chuckled as I took a lighter from my pocket and lit it in front of our faces making us see each others faces a bit clearer. I lifted her chin up making her look up at me more, Fuck she’s so sexy.. “well I’ve been noticing you watching me a lot when I’ve been out fighting. And to be honest it really turns me on darling” I answered her as my hand slowly went up to her check gently rubbing it. “j-jinx?” Her voice quickly softened. I put my back lighter in my pocket, “here let me help you up” my strong arms carried her up and I laid her back to her bed again. “You know you’re not so good at stalking yourself gorgeous, you really think I wouldn’t notice ya?” I could feel her face turning red as she heard my words but she still tried to act resistant“I- Uhm that’s not the point! You sneaked into my house and now you’re in my room.” She said acting like she didn’t like me being here I chuckled at her response. I wanted to tease her. “Well you started didn’t ya? I only finished what you started princess. Now answer my question why are you watching me so much Hm?” I again leaned closer to her face feeling her breathing fast. “I…i used to think you were cool when you were fighting and made me grow an obsession so every time I heard you fighting with someone I always rushed to watch you..” I could feel her getting embarrassed at her own words but this just made me bite my lower lip at the thought of a hot girl like her drooling over me while I kick asses. “Used to ?” I asked curiously “yeah Uhm now that you’ve been stalking me and breaking into my house I change my mind.” She said as she crossed her arms turning away facing the window. I licked my lips and grabbed her chin to look at my direction again. “Look at me when I’m talking to you Victoria.” She got surprised by me calling her by her name after all we were still strangers. “How’d you know my name?! See this is what I mean you’re-” I interrupted her before she could finish her sentence by going closer to her face “push me away” I dared her. She then put both her hands on my shoulders ready to push me away but instead she pulled me closer to her making our lips touch.

Your passionate kiss turned more aggressive as you continued tasting each others mouth, she enters her tongue in your moans making you let out a slight moan. “I knew you wanted me” she teasingly said, “shut up and just kiss me” your lips were pressed against each other once again. You felt her hands travel to your breast massaging them and pinching your sensitive nipples leaving you to moan again, your reaction made her even more hungry to taste you. She was now on top of you still kissing you and massaging your breast. She went to your neck sucking and biting you leaving marks there. “Ahh..” you moan as she continues to travel down to your body making it to your wet pussy. She teasingly licked your clit slowly not being able to control your moans. “So eager aren’t you doll?” She grins before flicking her tongue faster going circles on your clit. “Ahh fuck don’t stop jinx” you moaned as she continues to fuck you with her tongue. “Mmm you taste so good princess” she said as she was hungrily eating you out making you almost loose your breath. “Oh god..jinx I’m gonna-“ before you got to finish she stopped and went up to whisper in your ear “you’re not coming until I say so.” She whispered in her husky voice “now close your eyes. Don’t you dare open them” you nod in response and closed your eyes slightly annoyed that you didn’t get to cum knowing jinx loved the tease. You felt her getting off your bed and grab something. You heard her sneaking through your things “oh look what we have here” her words made you sit up and look. “W-what are you doing in my drawers?! How did you know-“ you were cut off by her placing a hand on your mouth blocking you to speak “a strap on huh, what a dirty slut. And you opened your eyes when I told you not to, you want to get punished ?” You shake your hand at her words your mouth still being covered by her hand. “You wanna be a good girl?” She asked making you look up at her, you body desperately needed her touch you wanted it so bad. You nod in response once again not being able to speak. “Lay on your stomach and arch your back for me darling” she demanded and you quickly did what she requested, She put the strap on on, you could feel her teasingly rubbing the fake cock your pussy that only made you want it even more..at this point you’d beg for it. “Beg.” She said still teasingly rubbing on your clit. “please fuck me jinx, fuck me hard please” you whimpered, you felt her hand run through the back of your head gripping your hair making your head fall back. “Beg more slut” she continues demanding as she slaps your cheeks making you squeak, You loved this. “Please Jinx please fuck me I promise I’ll be a good girl for you” you begging filled her excitement and she began pounding you with the strap making your let out a gasp “Ahhh jinx..” she fucked you faster every second. Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head as you bit your lower lip trying not to moan so loud. “Mm just like that take it like a good slut baby” her words made you even wetter wanting more and more from her.”cum for me baby.” She said as she went deeper with the strap making you moan her name loudly “Ahh jinx..” you felt a vibrator pressed against your clit as your hole was still getting pounded, Both pleasure made you almost go crazy wanting already to come “please jinx let me cum please I can’t hold it in anymore…” she smirked at your begging and went faster making you squirt all over the strap at the same time you reached your climax. She pulled out the strap from your pussy that was now dripping and licked the mess you caused. “God you’re so sexy” she spoke in her seductive voice. But you weren’t done yet. You grabbed her arms each side and pinned her down to the bed all the juices still dripping from your pussy. “Still not satisfied? Damn princess you really are a needy slut for me” you have no response and just smashed your lips on her then travelling to her neck sucking and biting it leaving marks all over her neck. You then proceeded to slowly continue kissing her down till you reached her pussy ”Fuck..princess”

Thanks for reading let me know if you want any requests of what you want me to write 🫶🏻

[welcome-to-jay]

How many Ace Attorney cases would be solved immediately if they used the Divination Seance?

For those who don’t know, the Divination Seance is a mechanic introduced in the 6th main Ace Attorney game: Spirit of Justice. The way it works is that a spirit medium communes with the soul of the dead, and makes their final memories visible in the Pool of Souls. All of their senses are displayed, from what they saw to what they heard to what they smelled before they died. In game, the Divination Seance is usually used to Phoenix’s disadvantage (obviously), but what I wanted to know is what would happen if the Divination Seance was used in cases that took place not in the Kingdom of Khura’in. If the court could see what the victim saw seconds before their death, how much would that fuck over the real killer? Let’s go through the death of (almost) every single victim and find out: would this case be solved if they used the Divination Seance? This will be updated with each game every day, unless I forget.

(Thanks to my buddy Keepay for helping me out with this! He did all of the AAI 1 and 2 cases because my memory on those is pretty fuzzy.)

Things to Remember: 

Divination Seance is derived from the victim’s memories, meaning if they don’t recognize a person’s voice, they won’t be able to identify it.

Divination Seance only works if the victim’s true name (and less importantly, what they look like) is known.

The victim has to actually be dead for a Seance to be possible.

Ace Attorney 1

Cindy Stone - YES

Frank had already broken into Cindy's home when she walked in, so there’s no way she wouldn’t have seen him before he bludgeoned her. A Divination Seance would clearly show this.

Mia Fey - NO

At first, this looks like the exact same situation as the Cindy Stone case. Mia and Redd White were face-to-face before she died, so he would’ve clearly shown up in the Divination Seance, right? 

But then there’s that damn updated autopsy report. 

Edgeworth stated that Mia lived for a few minutes after she was hit, and Divination Seances only show the last few seconds of the victim’s life. This means that the Divination Seance wouldn’t have shown the actual bludgeoning, or Redd White. As suspect as that updated autopsy report is, Edgeworth himself said that he never forged evidence, so we have to take him at his word here. 

Jack Hammer - YES

Dee and Jack were face-to-face when she pushed him. I don’t think we ever learn the details of their struggle, so maybe it would still be unclear whether or not it was self defense on Vasquez’s part.

Robert Hammond - YES

Again again, Yanni and Hammond saw each other before Yanni shot Hammond in the heart. We don’t get a lot of details about what happened in the shack, but we have no reason to assume this wasn’t the case. I promise these are gonna get more interesting.

Gregory Edgeworth - MAYBE

So in this case, the Divination Seance would show that the defendants (Miles Edgeworth and Yanni Yogi in this case) are innocent, but wouldn’t show who the culprit is, so I’m gonna say at the very least, it’s partially solved. The Seance would reveal that Gregory didn’t die when Miles threw the gun, and that all three of them passed out before the second gunshot was fired. However, we know from Von Karma’s testimony that Gregory was unconscious when he was shot, so he wouldn’t have seen his killer’s face. 

But! Miles said that he heard Von Karma scream right after he threw the gun, obviously that means that Gregory heard it too. The question is, would he have recognized it as Von Karma’s voice, and would it have shown up as Von Karma’s voice in the Pool of Souls? To answer that, I point you towards Inga’s Divination Seance. Here he recognizes the voice he’s talking to over the phone as one of his subordinates (after a refining from Rayfa) but even after it’s proven that Datz was the one laughing over the phone, the sound still shows up in the pool as just “Laughter.”

This is why it’s important to remember that the Divination Seance is derived from the victim’s memories. Inga recognized his subordinate's voice (but probably not his name, lol) but he didn’t know what Datz’s voice sounds like, at least not well enough to recognize it. In the same vein, Gregory would absolutely recognize Von Karma’s voice because they just spend the whole day in court together, as well as them meeting during the investigation. 

Now what this really all boils down to is if Gregory would recognize Von Karma screaming in particular. Miles didn’t recognize the voice even though he also knew Von Karma, but he was also a stressed and delirious kid when he heard the scream. Gregory’s memories are probably more reliable, and he’s probably heard Von Karma shouting either during the Inherited Turnabout investigation or the trial afterward. But, as much as I wanna say this is a yes, we can’t know for sure.

Bruce Goodman - YES

After that long-winded explanation, we’re back to another easy one. Bruce and Damon were alone in the evidence room when Damon did the deed, so he would clearly show up in the vision, or at the very least, his voice would be heard.

Neil Marshall - NO

This is another Gregory situation, but unfortunately much more unclear. Neil was unconscious when he died so he wouldn’t have seen Gant but at least it would be clear that neither Ema or Darke killed him. Neil had already knocked out Darke when Ema pushed him, and it would’ve been clear that Neil didn’t die from Ema’s shove, but much later. Of course, since Neil was blacked out, the argument could be made that Darke woke up first, and simply stabbed Neil while Neil was unconscious. Even with the Divination Seance, there’s no way to prove that Gant did the deed.

(Hey, check the reblogs if you wanna see the full version!)

[scaryscarecrows]

“You should sleep–”

“No.” Antoine doesn’t so much as look up from his laptop. “No. M’not–” There’s a shudder, almost imperceptible, an old mask sliding into place. “M’not gonna sleep anyway, after that.” He spares an easy grin Mark’s way, the one Mark knows has gotten him freebies before. “M’fine.”

“Put that away, it doesn’t work on me,” he says bluntly. “Fine. Just keep your ass outta my way or I’ll throw you out myself.”

“Mm-hm.” And just like that, the grin’s gone and he’s settled back into the chair he’s been in since this morning. “Patrol found some of Crane’s notes. Jimmy’s uploading them now, says he’ll be done in about an hour.”

Good. It’s been a hell of a night, nobody’s been sleeping much to begin with–always the pre-op excitement, last-minute preparations, you know–, and that last, frantic retreat to base…the boss’s notes on Scarecrow’s bullshit are pretty thorough, but Mark wants as much as he can anyway, to avoid…interactions. Or at least try to.

Honestly, he should force the issue of sleep. He really should. They all need the rest. But Antoine’s a stubborn little shit and Mark knows, even if he doesn’t know every last nitty-gritty bit, that this whole fiasco has triggered something bad. So he lets him be in favor of reaching over to adjust the oxygen mask and take the boss’s pulse (machines lie, his training doesn’t) and triple-check the IV. 

“I’m gonna grab a snack. Want something?”

“Nah, I’m good.” The easy grin comes back. “Don’t trust you not to drug me.”

Mark rolls his eyes.

“Don’t tempt me.”

* * *

Have you slept at all? Jimmy types out. For several minutes, there’s no answer and he thinks that maybe that’s done it, gotten Antoine to realize what time it is and go, ‘shit, bedtime’.

Have you?

Oh. Fuck him, then. He wasn’t supposed to flip this back around, that’s not how life works!

A little. I have the Green.

Don’t nag or I’ll tell Mark.

That motherfucker. He’ll do it, too, Jimmy knows he will. He doesn’t fight fair. Probably comes with being the Little Brother, but still.

I’ll sic Frank on you, he warns. 

Fuck off. I’m fine. There’s still an invasion to run, y’know.

Jimmy can’t help it. He does The Office stare. There is an invasion, true, and now they have a mad Bat to track, but really. Literally anybody else can manage this for a few hours. Antoine stubbornly refusing to budge from that crappy-ass IKEA chair is not going to make Batman materialize.

Whatever, he finally types. It’s your ass.

Get me the Dragon drone footage for Arkham, comes the quick reply. You redeploy a Cobra out there yet?

Oh my God. 

YES. It’s not there yet. 

Christ.

* * *

“Dude, have you moved at all?”

Antoine looks like hot death. Trent’s thinking he should maybe just pick him up and put him to bed like a toddler.

“Yes.”

“Lecturing the troops does not count.”

“Sure it does.” Taptaptaptap. “You asked if I moved. You didn’t say it had to be preapproved.”

Screw picking him up. He could bitchslap him into unconsciousness. It would work. It would be in his best interest, even. It wouldn’t even have to be a full bitchslap, probably; those dark circles say that a good, hard flick to the side of the head would put him down, but Mark’s such a nag about head trauma…

“Two hours of sleep is not gonna make or break it.”

“M’fine.” TAP. TAP. TAP. “S’what coffee’s for.”

Trent sighs. He’s not surprised. Honestly, the Knight had been equally annoying when Antoine went down from what turned out to be a helluva flu. Mark had banned him from medical because of contagion risk–none of them had been allowed in for the first two days, actually–but he hadn’t exactly taken it well, either.

Fucking dumpster fire.

“Whatever, dumbass. Want me to bring you anything?”

“The report from the last Miagani patrol and a bag of Zapp’s?” 

Well. At least it’s not a request for fucking Adderall.

“Fine.”

* * *

Riley doesn’t even bother nagging, asking, or suggesting. He just drops his old Souls flask into Antoine’s lap with a curt, May as well.

“What’s in it?”

Spiced rum. Not drugged.

It’s really not. Riley had considered it, honestly, but that trick will only work once and really, it’s not to that point yet. If he wants to be stiff in that stupid chair, that’s his problem.

“Thanks.” He doesn’t open it, but there. Riley’s done his bit.

The boss hasn’t woken up at all, but Mark did take him off of oxygen yesterday, so that’s something. The fear toxin’s out of his system, too, but he’s still, well, hella fucked up. Tends to happen when a whole-ass building comes down on you. The fact that he walked outta there is…well…it’s great and all, but Jesus Christ, how stubborn can you be?

It’ll help, he says, and taps the flask. Drink it.

“I will, I will,” comes the absent reply. Then, “I want access to GCPD’s interior cameras. Think you can help Jimmy get it for me?”

Riley would almost be offended at the question, if the circumstances were different.

One hour, he says. Maybe take a power nap or something.

“M’good. Have fun.”

Drugs are too nice. Riley votes for a chokehold. He’ll check with Mark when he gets back. A little tiny bit of damage isn’t that bad, surely. He’ll even apologize, if it helps.

* * *

Frank intends to lay down the law, really he does, but when he comes in, Antoine’s asleep. Like, out cold asleep; his laptop’s hanging on like grim death and he’s wadded into his flannel and definitely heading for a cricked neck, but he’s asleep.

Fucking finally.

He takes the laptop first, closes it up and sets it aside, before stepping out for a blanket.

“Any luck?” Mark asks. Frank shrugs.

“He’s out, I’m not gonna wake him.”

“Out?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll take it. Fucking family dumbasses, I swear to God–”

“Shh.” Frank flicks out the ratty old squishy blanket Mark keeps in his main office. “It’s your own fault if you wake him up now.”

He heads back in, tucks the blanket around Antoine as best he can without disturbing him, and sighs. This is not ideal. Not even a little bit. But it’s better than nothing.

“Mm–” Antoine shifts a bit, hand coming up to clutch at the blanket around his shoulders. “Da…”

“Shh,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hrm…”

He jogs back out before anything else can happen. Mark frowns.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” he grumbles. “Just go to bed.”

“He’s a grown-ass man,” Frank points out. Mark rolls his eyes.

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

[idontplaytrack]

✧ Not My Fault

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader(ft. Regina George)

Warnings: coarse language, Regina assumes reader has an eating disorder(reader has endometriosis), Janis gets angry

“Maybe forgiving you was the biggest fucking mistake I’ve ever made. Because you have not changed, Regina. How dare you say that to my girl?”

“What did you just say?” Janis shot up from her seat, staring daggers into Regina’s soul, “Maybe forgiving you was the biggest fucking mistake I’ve ever made. Because you have not changed, Regina. How dare you say that to my girl?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you said it once, you can say it again.” Janis spat, “Repeat it. I heard you loud and clear.”

The blonde chewed on her lips, regretting her impulsive decision to comment on something that didn’t concern her at all. “Why does she keep going to the bathroom? Does she have an eating disorder or something?”

Damian gasps loudly, completely stunned. “That’s what you said? Out of everything you could’ve yapped about you chose to say something so messed up?”

“You are the last person to have a say in what she does. I don’t even know why you’re here right now. What the fuck even possessed me to think it was okay for you to be here. I thought you’d finally turned over a new leaf, Regina. I guess I was wrong about you— again.”

“Janis, forget it.” You swallowed thickly, stepping out the bathroom, “You wanna know what’s wrong with me? Do you? Because I can tell you. All of you. Because it’s Janis’ birthday and she’s already spent practically all day worrying about me. You have no idea what it’s like to be me. You have no idea how it feels like every month to have it feel like your uterus and your body parts are getting ripped out of their spots. That’s what I’m feeling. That’s what I need to deal with every single month at least. I wouldn’t be running off to the bathroom multiple times if my nausea wasn’t this bad. I would stay right by her side and let her celebrate her birthday in peace with her friends. Not having to get up and haul my ass over to the toilet while barely being able to stand up straight. And then you come into my house and say all of that nonsense, upsetting my girlfriend on her birthday? I know it’s not my fault, but it sure feels like it. Unlike you, neither Janis nor the rest of the gang has made me feel this bad. You are so gutsy, Regina. But not for a good reason.”

“I- I’m sorry, it was supposed to be a —”

“If your next word is ‘joke’, no one laughed. No one’s going to laugh.” Aaron quips.

Regina bites the inside of her cheek, at a loss for words, “I’m sorry. I’ll leave. Happy birthday, Janis.”

“y/n, sit down.” Cady pulls you down onto the couch carefully.

“No, I—” You took in a sharp breath, “Fuck, where is the damn Zofran?”

“We ran out. The pharmacy didn’t have them too.” Janis squeezes your knee. “I was going to drive to another town buy it but you called me so I rushed home.”

“I have it.” Gretchen quickly dug through her purse to find the medication, “Here.”

“Thanks.” You mumbled, putting the pill into your mouth— under your tongue to let it dissolve.

“I hope you feel better soon, honey.” Damian sighs. “Is there anything we can do to help? Make you feel better?”

“Actually, yeah.” You nodded, “Why don’t you all take Janis out to celebrate her birthday? Let her have some fun. I’ll be fine at home for a few hours.”

“I don’t have anything I wanna do, baby.” Janis sighs.

“Come on, just go get some drinks and sing karaoke or something. I feel terrible having you all look at me like I’m dying.” You told them all while you curled yourself up in a corner of the couch.

“If you’re really worried about her being alone, let’s get that bitch’s ass back here to keep an eye on her. She couldn’t have gone far.” Damian suggested.

“I agree.” Cady says, “Let Regina see what it’s really like.”

“Please, just leave me alone. That girl will kill me.” You replied.

————

“You all want me to babysit y/n?” Regina got called to return to your house.

“Yeah. This is your punishment, for being a bitch.” Janis smiled patronisingly.

“We’ll be back by dinner, and if she ends up with even just a paper cut, you’d better watch your back, bitch.”

“Yes, yes. I’m a bitch, okay? I told you guys before— it’s hard for me to just change like that.”

“That’s why you gotta think twice before you speak, G.” Janis raised her brows, walking back over to you after getting changed. “See you in a few hours, ipo.” Janis smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“My God, I just threw up. Janis, why did you kiss me directly on my lips?” You stared at her, startled.

“It was just a peck.” Janis chuckles, standing by the side of the couch where you laid your head. She strokes your cheek, “I’ll get you some of those brownies you like on my way home, hm? For when you feel better?”

“Okay.” You muttered, a tiny smile tugs at your lips, “Have a good time, baby.”

“Thank you~” Janis kisses you on the forehead this time, “I’ll be back soon to give you cuddles~”

The gang laughs, loving this soft side of Janis that snuck through from time to time— even in their presence. Seconds later, they were all out the door, leaving you alone with the apex predator. You both looked at each other awkwardly. “I’m sorry, honestly. That was a dumbass joke, very insensitive.”

You only shrugged.

“Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat?”

“No, thanks. You can go if you like.” You told her, “I can’t believe you came back.”

She scoffs, and with a shrug of her shoulders she says, “Wanted to make it up to you and Janis.”

“I’m just going to be laying here, you know? Not gonna do anything. I’m too nauseous to eat and everywhere else hurts too much for me to even think about watching TV.”

“I can help you turn it on?” Regina states. “It’s a little quiet.”

“Yeah, whatever. That’s fine, thanks. Watch whatever you want. I’m gonna try and get some sleep before I need to puke again.”

Regina got up from the couch and went to look for something. You didn’t care what it was, as long as she didn’t burn down your house or break something. You turned your gaze to the TV, getting distracted when you heard some shuffling noise. “I’m just put this trash can here.”

“Okay.” You said quietly.

“So you don’t have to walk all the way to the bathroom.” She continues.

“Thank you.” You responded, glancing at her.

“Forgive my ignorance, but do you take any pain meds for it?” She asks after some silence.

“I do. They help, but the nausea and throwing up from how bad the pain gets is the main problem for me.” You answered.

“That sucks.” A soft sigh falls from her lips, “How long have you been dealing with this?”

“Oh.” You chuckled wryly, “A long time. I started having the symptoms since I was 13 maybe? Only got diagnosed with it this year, though.”

“Well now I feel horrible for that damn joke. I really could’ve said anything else or just asked if you needed anything.” Regina admits.

“I get it— okay? We just ate and I run off to the bathroom? Who would think it was endo the first thing?” You said back, “Annoyed me, but I…I get it. Janis is um, very protective.”

“I know.” Regina nods knowingly, “She is and rightfully so. I was being a bitch.”

Truth is, Regina wasn’t all that bad one-on-one. She’s never been mean to you or the gang the way she’s been towards other students at school. That was a flaw of hers to not just be kind to everyone most people, but she was working hard on changing for the better. This interaction proved it for you. The ‘old her’ would’ve left you completely alone like you’d asked.

When you sat up, she watches you carefully. “Do you want me to—”

You nodded, retching as she picked up the plastic trashcan, holding it under your mouth. Nothing comes out of it but your stomach was not happy.

“How about some ginger tea?” She suggests, “You wanna try?”

“No.” Your voice cracks, you cleared your throat composing yourself. You did not want to cry in front of her. “No, just leave me alone.”

“Yeah, nice try. And have your girlfriend strangle me to death?” She bites back a laugh, her palm rests against your back as she starts to rub circles on it.

“I do not have anything left in me. But I cannot stop this feeling.” You grumbled.

She didn’t know what to do, and neither did you. So you just laid back down and closed your eyes again to drift off to sleep. Regina stayed on the couch, quietly watching some TV to pass time.

Awhile later, Regina gets a text from Janis asking how you were doing.

When the sun began to set, the rest of the group returned home together with Janis. You were still asleep, much to Janis’ surprise. Honestly she would take you being asleep any day over being so nauseous and uncomfortable. “She’s been asleep since you texted me.” Regina told Janis while walking up to her.

“That beats her being nauseous. I’d take that as a win, at least she’s getting rested.” Janis shrugs, taking a peek at you stirring in your sleep hearing the noise of them returning home.

“I just…want to apologise again. It was really uncalled for, that ‘joke’.” Regina says.

“Now you know the real reason.” Janis replies, “Just don’t pull that shit again, and choose your words carefully. I should apologise too. i could’ve just told you to drop it and why she was going to the bathroom so much.”

“I deserved that yelling.” Regina laughs, “I hope you had a good time, Janis. If you ever want me to keep an eye on her again when you’re busy with work or just need a minute for yourself, you let me know.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Regina. No take-backs.” Janis bites back a smile, “Thank you, for apologising.”

“It’s the right thing to do. I’m working on it, and I hear you. I’ll be more careful.” Regina nods solemnly, “I talked to her, asked her about it all. And, she’s fucking incredible. This is no easy feat. She’s lucky to have you.”

“Well, I consider myself pretty damn lucky, too.” Janis shrugs.

Regina couldn’t help it but cracked a smile which she quickly concealed. “Anyway, she’s probably gonna be very hungry when she wakes up.”

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” Janis nods, casting her glance on you again. You were opening your eyes, sitting up soon after, “Oh.”

After the gang collected their belongings that they’d left here prior to heading to the bar, they quietly left after saying bye to you and Janis, and wishing her happy birthday. “Take care, y/n.” Cady hugs you carefully, being the last one to leave.

“Thanks, Cads.” You smiled, hugging her back. It was now just you and Janis, allowing her time to unwind and check on you. “How was your night?”

“It was fun. Had some good food, sang my heart out. Now I’m just happy to be here with you.” Janis smiles, very gently pulling you close, “Did you sleep alright?”

“Longest I’ve slept at a time in two days.” You nod.

She kisses you on the cheek, “Do you want something to eat? Maybe some soup and crackers?”

“Alright.” You agreed, getting to walk now that the pain’s eased up. You end up in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table while Janis heated up a can of soup for you. Thankfully, the pain stayed away until you’d finished eating. Then, it started to amp up again. Janis puts your bowl and spoon into the sink and took out a heating pad she’s left in the microwave after it was done getting warmed up. Holding onto it, she helps you upstairs and into bed. Once you were settled in, she hands the heating pad to you while she got changed into a new set of clothes. You were starting to feel absolutely shitty again and couldn’t wait for this flareup to be over. Janis joins you in bed, guiding you to rest your head in her lap. As always, she was very careful about whether or not she touched you. Because sometimes, you were aching just about everywhere, you couldn’t bear to be touched the slightest bit. You shifted uncomfortably, telling her, “God, the pain’s shooting down my leg. Fuck.” You moved the heating pad off your abdomen and placed it under your right thigh.

She doesn’t react, she doesn’t say anything. Letting you take it all out on her. Janis didn’t mind it. It helps you. Your eyes were screwed shut, you then started to take in slow breaths that you let out even slower all in attempt to calm yourself down so you wouldn’t burst into tears out of frustration.

“I wanna brush my teeth.” You sniffed.

“Sure.” Janis said back, “I got you. No worries, baby.”

The pain’s subsided just enough for you to move again. You groaned while Janis helped you up and walk the short distance to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth, she brushed hers. Then, you both were back in bed again. Eventually, you were settled on sleeping on your side, heating pad on your thigh while the same leg was rested up on Janis’ hip. She held you, admittedly a little scared to move and waking you up. So, she falls asleep like that. Couple hours later, she was up to use the restroom, you laying on your back by then. Heating pad away from your body now.

She couldn’t fall back asleep and she knew that. So, Janis stayed up. Reading, drawing, sewing and watching you sleep. That happens sometimes. She just couldn’t sleep no matter what she does. You woke up the next morning quite early, seeing as you went to sleep early last night. Janis had already made you your favourite breakfast, in hopes of cheering you up. And it did. “Thank you, Jan. This is so sweet.”

“Dig in.” She says, her smile mirrored yours. “I managed to get more Zofran, and the pain meds.”

“Have you been up all night?” You realised.

“Not all night, no. Just like, five hours. I woke up at three to pee, then I couldn’t fall back asleep. But I didn’t want to toss and turn and risk waking you up. You were sleeping so soundly.” She chuckles, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“If you say so.” You shrug, “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Taking care of me.” You said, “It’s difficult and I know it.”

“Just doing what I gotta do as a partner.” She smiles, giving your hand a squeeze.

“I heard what you said to Regina when she made that stupid joke.” You recalled, “I gotta say, if I wasn’t giddy from the puking up my guts and dehydration, I’d be making out with you like no one’s business.”

She guffaws, “Wow, really?”

“I love that about you, so protective.” You swallowed your food, “Very hot.”

She couldn’t stop the smiling, “If you say so, baby.” “Feel free to ‘make out’ with me whenever you want after you feel better.” She teases you, knowing that you meant more than that.

🏷️ Tag list

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭 A/N

Not sure what this is. A drabble? Idk. The ending was crap, and this was definitely too short but whatever. This was the idea so that’s all I did💀 I don’t even know what category this one falls under but it’s fine I guess