#lets hope one day... that i may complete this properly... and it will be somewhat beautiful

[deathbxnny]

hello!! platonic sunday, aventurine and gallagher with a teen!reader who is like nene kusanagi?

Hello Anon!! Thank you for the request, and I hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, teen reader, mentions of social anxiety, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

》AVENTURINE

Aventurine doesn't mind your shyness, nor your inability to talk to most people who aren't him or other people you know. He understands it and tries his best not to push you into doing anything you don't want to, ofcourse.

However, this doesn't mean that he won't help you get out of your shell slowly over time. Not that it would be hard to sometimes have to make you socialize whenever he was out on business with you dragged along as always. He'll do most of the talking though, so that he doesn't stress you out too much. He knows that the spotlight can be too harsh at times.

He adores your bluntness alot and even more that you care for him, despite how sharp your words sometimes can be. In a way, he finds himself lucky, knowing that you only open up to him in this way, which helps him over time open up to you as well. It makes him respect and appreciate you alot.

》SUNDAY

He understands your unwillingness to socialize completely, and luckily for you, there is no need for it with him. You most likely stay in his dreamscape estate anyway for your own safety and so most of your days are spent in peaceful solitude, other than the few times Robin or Sunday come to speak and dote on you.

He still makes you join him in some meetings, however, as he views it as important for you to learn his way of work. He knows that you don't like it and are too shy to actually speak with strangers properly, which is why he'll let you leave alot earlier, it he sees your social battery draining.

Your bluntness is one Sunday enjoys and appreciates alot because he knows you care deeply for him and his sister, yet simply have a very direct way of showing it. It's also like a breath of fresh air, from all the fake emotions and facades he has to put on daily.

》GALLAGHER

He may understand your shyness and reservations towards strangers, but that doesn't mean he'll let you off easy. Quite the contrary, in fact, as he'll definitely make you socialize in the best way he knows how, and that is by making you help him out in the bar. You can call him cruel for it, but he wants to toughen you up a little before the dark world outside does it.

You mainly just take orders and hand patrons their drinks, which eventually makes you start talking to them. It was a slow and even somewhat agonizing process for you, but eventually, you found yourself actually holding full conversations with them.

Your bluntness paired with your deep care for people made you a perfect little helper around the bar, as you became a favorite amongst the patrons to speak to and laugh with. Gallagher would watch you with a proud smirk from the back of the bar as he practically patted himself on the back with a happy nod.

I hope this was okay, Anon, and thank you again for the request!!<33

[ghostofskywalker]

hi again! Thank you for replying to my question 😊 I love your stuff so much! May I please request something with Tech and a female reader who is awkward or clumsy and doesn’t say much/struggles with conversations but really likes Tech and worries he won’t like her back since he is good with words and she isn’t. And then he does like her too? I hope that isn’t too specific! Please of course say no if you don’t like that idea 💕 tysm!!

here it is!! the prompt was so cute to do with tech, i hope you enjoy :)

Got There Eventually

words: 1,515

summary: Your feelings for Tech are a little more obvious than you first thought, and eventually it's Hunter who takes matters into his own hands.

clone troopers masterlist

You were seriously starting to think that your vocal chords were conspiring against you, because it never seemed to work properly whenever Tech was in your general vicinity. And this time it was particularly embarrassing, because your hands had apparently decided to get involved. 

The culprit? Tech’s warm smile and adorable wave when he walked through the doors, along with the way your name sounded as it left his mouth. 

Right as he finished speaking, the unmistakable sound of transparisteel shattering filled the space as whatever you had been holding made contact with the floor. Your eyes widened in embarrassment as you watched the drinkware split into hundreds of tiny pieces, and there might as well have been a shock wave that echoed across the room. But unfortunately, since you had not yet figured out a way to disappear at a whim, all you could do is look up to see all the eyes on you, including some gorgeously goggled ones. A weakly muttered “Sorry,”  meant that most had now turned back to their conversations, but not everyone let it go. 

“Are you alright? Did any of the material cut you?” Tech asked, immediately reaching over the bar to grab your hand while he checked it over. 

As his skin made contact with yours, your mind forgot that in recent moments, you had just been asked a question. “Yes-No, I mean,” you eventually managed to get out, hoping that the prior bout of silence hadn’t been too long or noticeably awkward. “I’m fine.” 

Tech didn’t look completely convinced, but he let go of your hand, and even though the action allowed your brain to work (somewhat) normally again, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feeling. “Are you sure?” he asked. “We have a first aid kit on the Marauder if needed.” 

“I promise, I’m all good,” you said, showing off your (scrapeless) hands. “Hopefully that doesn’t happen again.”

“I hope so as well,” he said. “Transparisteel like that can be dangerous.”

“I’m sure it’s not as dangerous as what you deal with every day,” you joked back. 

“Probably not,” Tech said, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his eyes moved when he smiled, and how you wanted to see that every day for the rest of your life.

Later, you watched him smile and laugh with his brothers in the booth they always sat in, and part of you kicked yourself for the way you acted. Tech was so much better at all this than you were, and for you, speaking in a way that didn’t sound ridiculous or awkward was sometimes a real challenge. 

You hadn’t even noticed the fact that your glances in their direction (which could probably be read more as staring, if you were being honest) had gotten obvious before the sound of someone clearing their throat entered your ears. When you turned, you could see Hunter approaching the bar with a look on his face that immediately let you know that you hadn’t been too discreet with your looks. “We’re going to pay our tab, don’t worry,” he said, before asking for another round of drinks for him, Crosshair, and Wrecker, since Tech and Echo were still working on theirs.  

His words didn’t really match the grin on his face, so you cocked your head to the side in confusion as you started to collect the bottles from under the bar. “What?” 

“You’re staring at us like we’re going to walk out without paying,” he responded. “Which, even if we did want to do, Cid knows where our ship is docked, so it’d be pointless.” 

You smiled at his joke. “Sorry,” was your response. “I didn’t mean to stare.” 

“That’s okay, with Tech you kind of have to be obtuse about it.” 

Now you were a little bit on edge. “About what?” you asked, trying to glean any information you could from his body language. 

“How you feel about him,” was the playful response, and he continued to speak as your mouth dropped open. “To the rest of us, it’s obvious, but Tech’s a little less observant when it comes to matters of the heart. You have to just say it to his face.” 

“I appreciate the advice,” you said quietly, stealing another glance at the table, where Tech was reaching for the datapad in Echo’s hand. “I think the trouble is going to be mustering up the courage to follow it.” 

Hunter nodded as he turned to leave with the drinks in his hand, but moved his head back towards you before he took the first step. “You can’t say it came from me, but his feelings are similar.” 

Your eyes widened as you finally finished processing this bombshell of information, but before you could question it any more, Hunter had already retreated back to the table. 

***

After that conversation, it seemed like something changed. 

You didn’t have anything to do with it, because you were still trying to come up with the perfect way to string the words together, but things were still different. Mainly, it was the fact that Tech seemed to be around you much more than normal, and he was always by himself. 

Before, when the boys would return from whatever death-trap mission they had been sent on, they would all step into the cantina to return the spoils and collect payment. Now, it seemed that only Tech would show up. 

Cid even asked if you said anything to them, because apparently they would also only return at times when you were working. You had simply shaken your head and told her that you had no idea why things were suddenly changing, even though you did have an inkling that a certain Sergeant was behind all this.

However, it was only after many rotations of telling yourself that you were actually going to say something to him about it that it actually came to pass. “So, do the others not like it here anymore?” You asked lightly, just as you finished wiping down the tables in the (now) empty cantina. 

“Not exactly,” Tech eventually said, his facial expression changing ever-so-slightly as he processed your words.

“If they don’t like me anymore, I don’t want to know,” you responded, a small smile crossing your face. 

But Tech didn’t seem to catch on to the joking manner you spoke in, because his eyes widened behind his goggles before he quickly tried to reassure you. “No, it’s not- they don’t-”

You cut him off before he could flounder any longer. “No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you laughed. “It was just out of curiosity I asked, because I haven’t seen everyone in a while.” 

“You can thank Hunter for that,” Tech said, and continued before you had fully processed the meaning behind those words. “He has picked up on my feelings for you and has apparently decided to take matters into his own hands.” 

Now it was your turn to wear a surprised expression. “Feelings?” you stuttered out, brain desperately trying to confirm whether or not you heard what you thought you had. 

“I really like you,” Tech said, his voice and face looking straightforward as it always is. “My brothers have been pestering me to say something for a while, but I never wanted to make you nervous or uncomfortable. I guess now I have no choice.” 

Another version of yourself might have been too nervous to speak this out loud, but hearing those words from him quelled any fears that began to take hold. “I really like you too,” you said. “And Hunter knows about it, so I don’t think it was just you that he was trying to get to confess.” 

“I can’t believe neither of us noticed,” Tech smiled, reaching out tentatively to take your hand. “I guess Crosshair was right when he said love was blind.” 

A quiet laugh escaped your mouth, and you hoped that he couldn’t hear the rate at which your heart was beating. “Why don’t we go to dinner sometime?” you asked. 

Your question was met with another smile, this time with a comforting squeeze to your hand. “I’d really like that,” he said. “Once I come up with a plan to make sure it’s done in complete secrecy, I’ll send you the details.” 

“What, you don’t want to tell your brothers?” 

“Unless you’d like our date to have an audience, we’ll have to keep it to ourselves,” he said, an exasperated expression on his face. 

You laughed once more. “I promise, my lips are sealed.” 

Right as it seemed the two of you were leaning closer to each other, Cid’s voice echoed through the cantina, calling Tech into her office to settle their latest job. But even though your little moment had been cut short, you couldn’t help the way you smiled and hummed to yourself for the remainder of your shift. 

Once you got to spend a little more time with Tech, you’d say something to Hunter, but right now, you just wanted to bask in your newfound happiness.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[userlofyy]

[AKNK] Butler Summer - Berrien Cliane

⚠️ Please note that I am by no means a professional and there may be mistakes/mistranslations along the way.

🚫 DO NOT use my translations for Machine Learning/AI training or repost them anywhere

来年もまた

Next Year Too

Episode 1

This is a resort area located in central land. Velis, the city of water. In this capital, a grand festival is held to which the aristocrats are invited. To protect the aristocrats enjoying the festival… the butlers and I were all visiting the resort And after the security job was completed successfully… We were able to stay here for a while longer.

 - One day at noon - 

While I was resting in the shade of a tree on the private beach... Berrien made some tropical juice and brought it to me.

Berrien: Arujisama. please take this. Please stay hydrated and be careful of heatstroke.

Aruji: Thank you

Berrien: hehe… oh, my. Please take a look, arujisama. It looks like all the young butlers will be split into two teams and have a swimming competition. It's good to have energy. Most of all, it seems like they are enjoying resort life ♪

Berrien said that as he gazed at the sandy beach with a gentle smile on his face.

Berrien: By the way, arujisama. Is it not hot? Actually, I found something good. This will help ease the heat a little.

Aruji: Eh? That is…

Berrien said as he pulled up a leaf shaped like a fan… He started to fan me. The wind feels very pleasant, but… I feel kind of apologetic Even coming to the resort… Berrien is taking care of me as always… Is Berrien himself able to rest properly? At least to not keep standing… I wanted him to sit down and rest.

Aruji: Berrien, why don’t you sit next to me?

Berrien: Sit next to the lord…? Hehe. Thank you for your concern. But, I’m fine as it is. Arujisama, please rest in peace. Relax more by lying on the beach… Oh, however… There’s nothing here that can be used as a pillow pillow… pillow.. hmmmmm Only my knees are here…

Aruji: Eh? Berrien’s knees…?

Berrien: Yes. If you’d like. Please use my lap as a pillow.

Aruji: A-as expected, that’s too much.

Berrien: There’s no need to be shy. I want you to relax, arujisama. Here, arujisama. Lie down and make yourself comfortable

If you offer it that much… On the other hand, I feel bad for Berrien if I refuse here. I timidly rested the back of my head on Berrien’s thigh… Berrien’s thigh has just the right amount of elasticity and is very comfortable to sleep on.

Berrien: How is it arujisama? My lap pillow… I hope it’s not hard to sleep…

Berrien is looking into my sleeping face. Berrien looks upside down… It’s a somewhat strange view.

Aruji: It’s very comfortable to sleep on

Berrien: hehe It seems like the lord likes it, which is great.

The upside-down Berrien smiles kindly as usual. Thanks to Berrien, I was able to spend a relaxing time…. Suddenly… I was wondering if Berrien himself was able to relax When I think about it, from the time we came to the resort until now… I’ve never seen Berrien play.

Aruji: Does Berrien not want to play?

Berrien: Eh? Me?

･──✽──୨୧──✽──･

Episode 2

Even when we came to a resort, is it okay for Berrien to not play?  That is what I asked…

Berrien: hehe. Thank you for your concern, arujisama But I’m fine. I’m enjoying the openness of the resort in my own way.

Aruji: Berrien’s own way?

Berrien: Yes. For example, like before… That…for example…  I offered the lord to use a lap pillow… Such a thing… I’m sure I wouldn't have been able to do it normally.

Berrien blushed a little as he said that Now that he mentions it, Berrien’s offer earlier… It may have been a bold move on Berrien’s part.

Berrien: Um… Then,  arujisama. I will be heading back to the villa soon.

Aruji: Eh? Already?

Berrien: Yes. I also have to prepare for dinner and clean up afterwards.

Aruji: Then let's work together…

Berrien: No, no. I can handle this much on my own. Besides, since this is a vacation… Forget the work of the other butlers… We want you to enjoy yourself to your heart’s content.

Berrien said with a kind smile again. He always does things for others. “I want everyone to forget about their daily work and have fun”.... Those words are his true feelings, but at the same time… I feel the same way about Berrien.

Aruji: Hey, Berrien

Berrien: Y-yes, what is it, arujisama…?

Berrien was taken aback when his name was suddenly called. I grabbed Berrien’s arm… and started walking towards the sea.

Berrien: A-arujisama? What happened?

Aruji: Let’s play in the sea together.

Berrien: The sea? But… As I mentioned earlier… I have a job…

 - Private Beach Shallow Waters - 

Berrien: It’s cold…

Berrien, whose feet were hit by the sea spray, cried out in surprise.

Berrien: I-I’m sorry. I made a strange sound…

Aruji: It’s okay! Let’s enjoy the sea more.

Berrien: But… I… Is it okay to leave work behind and have fun?

Aruji: Berrien should relax too.

Berrien: Relax? But…

Aruji: I want you to stay with me

Berrien: …! Arujisama… Understood. If you say that much…. The most important thing for a butler is to fulfill the Lord’s wishes. I… I will try to be more selfish.

Aruji: Yeah! Let’s do that

Berrien: hehe. Well then, arujisama… Together with me… Would you like to take a little swim in the sea?

 - A little bit later - 

For a while after that… Berrien and I enjoyed the sea… Eventually, the two of us lie down on the beach… quietly looking at the sky… There isn’t a single cloud in the sky not dyed in a reddish hue by the sunset… Only the sounds of the waves echoed in our ears.

Berrien: What beautiful scenery… This sea and this sky… I must have seen it many times… The view from here today is… even more beautiful…

Berrien muttered in a small voice, as if talking to himself. I don’t even have to answer that… I just stared at the sky and listened silently….

Berrien: Surely, it feels so beautiful…  Is probably because I get to see it together with someone important to me…

“together with someone important to me”... I was taken aback by those words… I couldn’t help but look at Berrien… and… Berrien too… He was looking at me, smiling.

Berrien: Such beautiful scenery… Next year too, I wish I could see it…

Berrien returned his gaze to the sky again… In a slightly quieter voice than before… He was whispering sadly.

Aruji: Let’s come here together again

Berrien:... arujisama?

I boldly, said to Berrien

Aruji: Let’s promise

Berrien: Yes, let’s do that… Let’s promise to come again next year, for sure… No, even beyond that… Let’s see lots of beautiful scenery…

Aruji: Yeah! Definitely

Berrien: fufu…. Thank you, arujisama… I… truly had some great memories today.

Aruji: Me too, Berrien.

[worldofsaia]

♰ the fluidity of existence. . .

I touched on this topic with my sister tonight, somewhat unplanned, but I felt I was at a level of understanding to properly explain it. I hope this helps those who feel attached to their current circumstances, to start that process of unravelling. I'll also provide a 'transcript' of our conversation for a more real-time pov of what I'm saying here.

✶ ONE

We often feel attached to our current lives because we've invested so much time, energy, and emotion into it and our relationships within it. This can make it difficult to let go, even when we know there's something beyond this experience, that's gentler or more aligned with our true selves.

We think we're abandoning something, when that's not true at all. It's also why you may continuously return to this experience after shifting. We are attached to goals, relationships, memories here, etc. and we think reality is rigid.

The key is actually in recognizing that reality is fluid and ever-transforming.

When we shift or manifest new realities, we grow. When you become an adult, did you abandon the child? We are like living alchemy, constantly transforming. In a rigid world-view, it's easy to think that the challenges and struggles define our lives/us.

So when we cling to problems/unwanted experiences, we cling to an idea of ourselves that no longer serves us.

Just as you grow physically and mentally, your experiences and realities grow with you. As your circumstances change, your core essence remains the same. It’s not about losing yourself, but about embracing the continuous unfolding of who you are.

Realities are less rigid, more, fluid, moments in time.

Like a continuous line. Each moment is a different point on that line, with each reality being just another moment of experience. Whether it’s this current reality or another one, both exist in the flow of your experience. The other reality could be one where you feel more peace, surrounded by love, and free from restrictions. This isn’t an alternate universe far away—it’s just a new moment of your experience.

✶ TWO

It’s easy to worry that shifting means leaving behind the people we care about. But this is something I call self-ish thinking; rigid, individualistic, egoic reality. It doesn't allow for self-less thinking, which understands that there are two sides to experience. The shared and the individual.

Even in this current moment, each person’s reality is inherently separate including yours and mine. What we perceive as shared realities with our families and others are, in fact, just Awareness choosing to interact with itself through our connected activities/moments.

In truth, we’re all part of one shared awareness.

You and your loved ones are always connected, whether you share a particular experience or not. Just as you don’t feel "separated" from your past selves, you won’t be disconnected from others just because you move into a new reality. You’re simply expressing a different aspect of that awareness, like how a TV can change channels but remains the same device.

I referenced the song "Everything Stays," from Adventure Time, in the original conversation. It's perfect here. When "you" shift, you will be gone, yes. But the "you that is a person" in this reality is still in this broader experience.

Another version of you will continue to experience this version of yourself. They just become parallel to "you"; tldr hypothetical/non-existent as [your] awareness is no longer focused on that version. Maybe that version of you may grow in different ways, complete a series of microshifts (manifestation) of their own, that are shared with the people appearing in their experience.

This is where the idea of a 'clone' came from back in the day, though the correct term is just 'version.' I made sure to put this into a microlens perspective for my sister as well.

ex. I am a 'clone' (version) of "siddhi" who lost her pets a few years ago. "siddhi" from a few years ago is right where she is, and several versions of her have stemmed from that point, it's only that 'I' am aware of this experience. That version of "siddhi" is aware of her own experience.

In the end we are all/one thing (awareness.) Appearing as many different things (past, present, future, different people etc.)

✶ THREE

Fear of letting go stems from the idea that we are as separate as we seem. But if we understand that everything we experience is just a projection of awareness, we see that there is nothing real to abandon.

You are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. When you shift, you’re not disappearing—you’re simply redirecting your awareness to a different version of the experience. Detachment becomes easier when you realize that nothing is truly "left behind."

It's the same with manifestation. It's about recognizing that the micromoment, within the macroexperience (I'm using labels to make it easier to grasp) is not permanent. You only think you should/are holding on to something.

Letting go of the need to "hold on" is one large part of the key to allowing manifestations, and shifts to come into your experience effortlessly.

✶ TRANSCRIPT

Her: I think I just have difficulty letting go. I mean, this life was hard. If I’m going to leave it entirely after working so hard, I’m not really sure why I’m here to begin with?

Me: Well, you 'leave it' every second, though you leave nothing behind. You transform. You are living alchemy. I think, like me, you think the problems define the life, so you don’t wish to let the problems go as a means of preserving the life? And life could also be what you think is "you," yeah?

Her: I know I’m not the self, but in a way I am? Everything is me in the end—3D, 4D, everything. I don’t understand how I could abandon it, even if it isn’t my true self.

Me: Well, why do you think you are abandoning anything? Ask yourself these things, inquire.

Her: But aren’t we abandoning it? In favor of going home?

Me: Do you think in growing up, you’ve abandoned your childhood self?

Her: Well… no.

Me: Then do you think the appearance changes and grows, but at its core, it’s still you?

Her: Yes.

Me: So, why do you think you’re abandoning yourself?

Her: It’s a completely different life and reality. It isn’t the same, is it?

Me: The channel changes; is the TV lost? The curtains are newer, nicer—does the sun die with the old ones? Think of it like this: this reality A, reality B and reality C are all in one continuous line. In one moment you're 'here', and the next moment is reality B. They’re all just moments of that line, and that line is experience. Reality B is just a moment in which my life is gentler, less restrictive for me. I’m surrounded by friends and family who are happy and are their best selves, enjoying lives they deserve. It’s not somewhere else.

Her: But you won’t be here anymore.

Me: Well, I’m not in yesterday either, right? "Yesterday me" is in yesterday with "yesterday you." I won’t be in this moment anymore, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean I’m gone away from you. Are you afraid I won’t be here with you anymore?

Her: Mhm. I know it’s really childish, but I’ll miss you. I don’t want you to be gone until I come home, in case I never end up going. I really miss you. I don’t know…

Me: Hmm, that’s something, but it’s more complicated than that. There’s a concept of separate, individualistic realities, and there’s a concept of shared realities. You think "Siddhi," the person, won’t be here talking to you if you choose to remain in this moment. In fact, our realities have always been separate, and it’s the activities within that seemingly connect them. "Siddhi" will be here, but she would not be "me." She might not have a goal of shifting anywhere. Depending on my/Awareness' will, she would be a parallel me, going about the experiences that occur in this moment called "reality A". Or she would’ve completed a series of microshifts that are still shared with you, like a ‘clone’ (hate that term). Putting that in a micro-lens: I am a ‘clone’ of "Siddhi" who lost her dogs.

Her: So, you’ll never really leave? It’s still you, just different?

Me: You know that Adventure Time song, "Everything Stays"? I won’t be here; in fact "I" am a version of "Siddhi" from this morning. But a version of me will be here, just like a version of you is in "reality B" with me. I think this gets people super hung up on detaching and stuff. At the same time, this goes deeper. We are not real; this interaction isn’t actually happening. "We" are awareness’ decision of this interaction occurring. Awareness wants "Siddhi" to speak to "Sister." Do you see it?

Her: So, there isn’t really anything to hold onto? Or be afraid of?

Me: Of course not. Don’t hold on to me—I’m everywhere and nowhere. I just understood this today anyway. For those who permashift, it’s not like they suddenly disappeared; they literally just make the conscious decision to no longer share an experience with another. Awareness decides no more—the story is done. This has been done in a myriad of ways, from as simple as just deleting their social media to as complicated as bodily expiration (a result of mahasamadhi is a documented example), even the whole fiasco of "shifters shifting to this reality and their old reality being so much worse, for clout" is a possibility when done legitimately. Similarly, this works with manifestation. The moment you are experiencing right now, in which you have or do not have, is not even occurring. You don’t have to hold on to it—it’s everywhere and nowhere too.

Her: Thank you. This is really, really helpful. I feel a lot better about this now.

Me: I think you’ve gone from self-ish thinking to self-less thinking tonight, yes? I know some people unknowingly keep their families suffering because shifting feels like abandonment. This is egoic. Shifting is literally just awareness deciding: a new lens on the same nothing. Because when "I’m" Siddhi B, Siddhi A does not exist. But hmm, if "I" ever want to be Siddhi A again, let’s make her a millionaire. Think Sims 4. Different save files for the same sim in the same game.

✦ siddhi

[stellar-skyy]

Hellooo!! May I please request Зима as a lover? Just sweet fluff with how he caught feelings, how he expresses his love, silly things about him, headcanons, etc. I hope this wasn't too confusing and I'm super sorry if I broke one of the rules, you can just ignore this if I did. Thank you so much nevertheless!!

WINTER ADRIFT — Zima x reader.

i. SUMMARY: Zima as a lover. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: Fluff, so fluffy, headcanons, gn!reader, 0.7k words. iv. A/N: Hiii anon!! I was really happy to write this, I love this silly little man. Thank you for the request! ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ

Zima is a very serious looking person. He doesn’t smile often, his words are few and far between, and when he does speak it is quiet and under his breath.

Despite this somewhat intimidating appearance, Zima is a very soft person at heart. He adores his little bird, his notebooks filled with scribbled poetry and other writings, and of course you. 

You, who appeared in his life as quickly as rainfall, bringing a certain light that he’d never experienced before. You, who split his life into two: the Before, and the After.

Before, he was a lonely poet wandering the Far East, with no one but wild animals to keep him from complete isolation. There was only his bird, his poems. It was a quiet life, one that let loneliness seep in far too quickly for his liking, but it was predictable and calm.

And then came the After. Before, he didn’t mind the solitude. But After—After, he couldn’t bear it, because he’d finally gotten a taste of what it was like to not be alone.

Zima’s days turned from sitting still for hours, writing diligently in his notebook, to walking alongside you through trees, watching the snow fall against his windows together, and baking bread in a kitchen far too small for two.

He fell for you very quickly, even if it took a while for him to realize it. It was only when he reflected upon his notebook and its contents, and noticed the sheer amount of writings dedicated to you. He doesn’t quite focus on his work after he’s penned it, so it was easy enough for the poems to be composed and then tucked away into his mind without realizing how many of them were a reflection on his feelings towards you.

By the time the two of you were properly together, he had already written enough to spill the contents of his heart ten times over.

He’s a very early riser, so he always ends up waking up before you. When he wakes up, he likes to look over at you; to watch your chest rise and fall in a careful rhythm, and observe the way your lips slightly part with every puff of breath. He’ll brush a hand over your forehead first, moving any loose strands of hair out of the way, before pressing a quick kiss to it.

Physical affection isn’t easy for him—in fact, he’s rather shy about it. He would prefer to hold your hand or chastely kiss your cheek rather than be overly affectionate, but if you ask for a hug or kiss, he won’t refuse.

(He gives amazing hugs. Just tight enough to feel secure without being restricting, and warm enough to keep away the winter chill.)

Even if he wants to shower you in sweet words and compliments, he isn’t flawless in the language and sometimes his speech fails him. Talking out loud is more difficult than writing, so the loving compliments he does give you are to be treasured.

Instead of words, he leaves you with gifts. A poem, dedicated to you. Wildflowers, picked from the snow and tied together with a ribbon. Baked foods, each more delicious than the last.

He’ll spend hours with you, not talking, just existing in the same space as him. If you sit with him long enough, you’ll be able to hear quiet mumbles under his breath as he becomes fully absorbed in his writing.

He knew he loved you as soon as the animals became as comfortable around you as they were around him. It began with his bird, who despite being all but glued to his side ever since they had met, decided to land on top of your head and settle in your hair. Next came the rabbits, and the ferrets, and then all of the rest of the creatures.

Those animals were his companions, his friends. It was inevitable they would love you just as much as he did, and seeing them warm up to you so quickly was only further proof that you were the one for him.

Seeing you sitting there, with his bird nestled into the crook of your neck, a fox curled on your lap and an elk resting at your side…

He can’t think of a moment where he’s felt more content.

“Hmm? What are you smiling about?”

“Ah… it is nothing… you simply look… perfect."

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[hollybattz]

God I hope my ask didn’t send twice but

What’s your interpretation of 035 and 049s lore together? Where do you take most of your inspiration for them from? (like sedition tapes, wiki, etc etc)

Dw, it only send 5 times including this one🫶

TY FOR ASKING BTW I DON'T REMEMBER WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME I HAD A CHANCE OF YAPPING ABT IT UNAPOLOGETICALLY. My lore for them is actually a mix of nearly everything, from sedition tapes to personal headcanons and Alagadda to fanfics I read YEARS ago as a new and innocent fan. Then I closed it all in bottle, gave it a good shake, and just let it sit in the back of my mind like wine.

So first of all, Alagadda of course works completely different from our world, so there 049's procedures actually work and he's able to return people from the death with little to no side effects. So if someone fucking dies in Alagadda, and one of the lords/ambassador/king is unhappy by it for any reason, 049 is the one who they call. This gives him somewhat important status in higher society, so he has an apertunity to chill around them, but he doesn't use that privilege very often because he just doesn't want to.

But there IS one lord that somehow managed to get close to him and slowly they both fall for eachother and become lovers. My boy my bbg my child I personally gave birth to 035. Unfortunately this fuck gets in so many conflicts with nearly everyone that it's just unsafe to let others know that he has someone he cares about (spoiler: that didn't help).

And then one day 035 gets fucking assassinated🩷🩷 (also keep in mind that I am NOT refreshing my memory about how Alagadda works so I may be wrong about it and in that case I'm sorry)

Under Ambassador's secret order, because in my head he's an evil fuck who wants all the power to himself, a group drags my boy to the sea and just drops him in there. The sea decomposes his og body and teleports him the fuck to Earth, this is also where his black shit originates from because as far as I remember it's also black. But that's not it, because ambassador sensed 035's closeness with doctor and decided to get rid of him too for a good measure. Idk what they do to him, plot holes are my hoes, but anyway he gets sent to Earth too.

But they had very different experiences with all that teleportation stuff because in the process 049 gets amnesia and doesn't remember anything about Alagadda or Dýo, even tho expects Earth work similar way to Alagadda subconsciously, and this difference and the fact that his procedures don't work anymore, with his anomalys way of sensing death on top, leads him to the pestilence as the only logical explanation.

Anyway at some point they finally met each other and Dýo is like "love! Omg I can't believe you're alive!♡" and Doc is like "who tf are you" and Dýo is DEVASTATED. Like honey we've been together for God knows how many decades fuck you mean no homo. He even thinks that doctor is just messing with him or mad at him for letting assassination happen, but unfortunately no and 035 learns that slowly and painfully. And unfortunately it leads to 035 following Doctor everywhere in hope to return his memories but from Doctor's perspective he's just being stalked by some weird dude that talks nonsense.

And so the same thing happens, they go back and forth about it, but unfortunately they both SUCK at communicating properly. And so Dýo is like "ok, fine, I'm fucking sick of you, I've never needed you anyway, chao" and he leaves and tries to live his own life and let go. And he's even being kind of successful, he can distract himself enough to almost forget about it, but his ass is doomed by the narrative. Every single time he practically gets over Doctor, they run into each other again. And every single time without a fail 035 can't help but get obsessed over and over again, drowning in all the memory and regrets and sleeping feelings waking up. At some he just gives up on returning 049's memories and tries to at least befriend his bird ass, and that's going at least somewhat successful. But not for long, at some point they get into argument again and one of them leaves. So really it's just "meeting again→sunny day before storm→storm→leaving and letting go→meeting again.." cycle of hell. But then Dýo gets locked in the crypt during one of these storms and he's found by foundation all this jazz.

They WILL tho one day get their happily ever after because I want these faggots to be happy and because they are meant for eachother, they're so bad separately that they're good together, but if I ever figure out how they will get there then I'll probably write a fanfic about it. Ty for reading all this yapp I could get idea across WAY shorter but I'll die if I not choose to get dramatic w my description 🫶

[faerunfaggot]

What happened with stitches? How’d he go from a scarecrow to A Man

Also how did everyone feel about it? (Including stitches) Especially Farimor, how did he feel about it?

ALRIGHT sorry about the delay in answering this. this is the big one. one of my favorite arcs. so i had to take the time to answer it properly LOL. for the sake of brevity i won't be going into CRAZY detail so feel free to ask followup questions on anything if you'd like! (my evil plan)

SO. somewhat of a tldr of the events leading up to this. aylith, the deity inside stitches, starts kind of slowly corrupting/influencing the members of his adventuring party. he has no control over this obviously, and is worried about his friends since her influence seems to be pretty negative.

worried that aylith will hurt his friends further, particularly farimor (though he's concerned about everyone, he's a good noodle) stitches tries to trick her by pretending to cede to her will. he then overloads himself with magic power, and knowingly destroys himself, hoping it will kill her as well. this is in the middle of battle, and in the confusion no one realizes what he's doing fast enough to try to stop him (though it may not have worked anyway). 

obviously, this is very traumatic for farimor. for most of his life he's made a point to keep his distance from others, for fear of getting close with someone and losing them or being betrayed. he finally let his guard down with stitches, perhaps a little unintentionally, but it was going well enough before this, so he's almost blindsided by the exact thing he feared this entire time finally happening the MOMENT it has the opportunity to. i won't get into it too much, but he's severely impacted by this and spirals. doubles down on his (already pretty bad) alcoholism, pushes away any other connections… just completely reclusive and depressed. he still takes work, kind of falling back in his old habit of surviving just for the sake of surviving with no real goals.

MEANWHILE stitches is kind of in a weird limbo death state. he can see what's happening still, and he's somewhat like a ghost, but because of the nature of his soul he can't really go anywhere. he stays like this for a while, unsure of how to solve this issue for himself. sadder still, he CAN see what fari's up to, so unfortunately he has to watch his decline.

after a while, aylith returns in her true form, to try to kill the remaining members of stitches' party. stitches obviously realizes that his sacrifice didn't work, and is reasonably freaking out. despite his distrust for deities, he ends up taking a deal with another different god in order to save his friends, WITH the exception that he owes the god nothing. all that is asked of him is that he kills aylith for good.

he's given a new form when he is returned to life to save his party, since the scarecrow form he took before was destroyed. he's an aasimar thanks to the the intervention of the god he's dealt with. his appearance is made in the image of his "ideal" self– an almost entirely stereotypical "hero" type. a handsome, golden god looking paladin with shining armor, that type of thing. this is how he always visualized himself in his mind LOL

obviously this is a huge change for stitches. he can't remember a lot of his past as a scarecow (though he retains memory in the form of his feelings- just his memory of specific events is hazy). it's scary at first, since he can actually feel pain now, and he's also capable of feeling a full human range of emotions, which is very overwhelming. like if your brain emotionally developed all at once LOL. he DOES get used to it eventually, though he IS still pretty naive and trusting and QUITE socially inept (and maybe kinda pretty dumb. but in his defense he just grew a brain 2 days ago).

farimor is initially just completely overwhelmed by the idea that stitches is back, since he thought he had lost him forever. he's already emotionally stunted as hell to begin with, so it's A LOT for him as you can imagine. his first reaction is to be angry with stitches for everything, but he quickly comes to his senses and realizes that it really wasn't his fault. they make up easily, stitches isn't the type to get angry, especially with farimor, and forgives him a lot faster than fari thinks he deserves. 

their relationship gets back to normal pretty quickly after this. obviously fari is glad to have him back more than anything, and kind of gets a better grasp on identifying and managing his own emotions in the process of trying to help stitches understand HIS newly formed nuanced emotions. they also get back to their usual lifestyle/adventuring work, stitches is eager to get back to hero-ing as you can imagine LOL. they travel a lot to work, but they're based in willowdale when they aren't. an actual house, rather than staying at the inn.

i fear i am yapping for too long about this so i will end off on this. trust it gets gay. LOL

stitches' newly unlocked emotions got him realizing he's in love with fari romantically, and of course fari has been feeling the same and burying/denying it much longer (in typical fashion for him). anyway i could elaborate on much of this but this writeup is already nearly two whole google doc pages long so i have to restrain myself, for this post at least. HOPE U ENJOY !!

[too-destiny-panda]

Wyllvember Day 27: Genre Swap - Sci-Fi

A/N: Only three days left in Wyllvember! Time passed by so fast! Some of you may notice I din't post anything yesterday, and the reason for that is that I decided to use that day as a break, since I began feeling a little burnt out. Plus, I already did a similar prompt during Wyllweek, and I felt like I would be repeating myself anyways, so it all worked out! I still made today's prompt slightly longer to make up for it, so I hope you like it! Tagging @sagscrib and @commander-yinello WC: 921

The alarms blared as personnel rushed through corridors, the overhead speakers almost completely drowned out by the various shouts and footsteps.

Attention, the vessel is under attack. All personnel please man your stations. Attention, the vessel is under attack. All personnel, please man your stations. Attention…

The robotic voice continued to repeat its automated sequence. You were rushing too, hastily buttoning up the front of your uniform to at least be somewhat presentable. If your body was destined to be found floating space, you would at least look decent damn it! Gods, why did this have to happen while you were sleeping? Though you supposed it made sense to target a mostly sleeping ship, but weren’t there at least AIs for some of these things? And you’re pretty sure the more important workstations, such as yours, has a rotation of staff. Ugh. If this happened because your shift replacement dozed off… Come on, sure, merchant ships have a tight budget, but surely, they can afford to hire reliable people to monitor communications and frequencies, right? Right.

As you sprinted down the hallway, towards the bridge, familiar footsteps joined you in tandem. Your friend, with whom you have been taking jobs since you graduated, is running alongside you, not nearly as panicky as the others you have passed, but definitely the grumpiest.

“One of the kids didn’t monitor the radar properly,” they huffed out, air beginning to be in short supply, as the dormitories were practically on the opposite side of the very big ship. “I swear, once I get my hands on the fucking walnut that didn’t turn on the stealth detection mode—”

A sudden, harsh impact, sent both of you sprawling on the floor, skidding to a stop a few feet in front of the bridge. Now the flashing lights turned on, their red colour signalling that someone unauthorized is currently trying to board the vessel. You hoped the airlock would hold for only a little while longer. You pull yourself up, hauling your friend with you and finally stumble onto the bridge, which is in even worse shape than you thought. The captain is nowhere to be found, multiple sections are arguing and blaming each other, it is utter and total chaos. You note with a sour scowl that your station, which should be occupied at all times, is conspicuously empty. You rush over to it, beginning to send out a distress signal, as well as shutting down and locking all doors leading to the airlock, hoping to at least slow down the pirates.

As that is all you can do, you check the register to see who was supposed to be here, only to find it empty, the slot blank. You blink, once, twice, before you realise that whoever was here was probably a mole. You groan. This is why you didn’t like merchant ships. Too cheap for their own good and they often don’t bother with the goddamn background checks. You yell towards another sector asking who was here before you. The answer didn’t disclose much, other than letting you know it was a new guy, scrawny and jumpy. At least you have witnesses you did everything right. And from the sound of it, you weren’t alone as your illustriously well-spoken companion began cursing up a storm about whoever was hired onto their position.

Panic grew as someone screeched that the airlock has been breached, now arguments were being made on who would get to leave in the escape pods instead. You were just about to cry out of both frustration and fear, when a booming voice carried itself over the commotion.

“Calm yourselves, my good folks, there is nothing to fear, for I, the Blade of Frontiers, will take care of the pirates and keep you safe!”

His words had an effect, the cacophony of sounds quieting down as everyone looked towards the young human standing in place of the captain (who no doubt already fled). You studied this new arrival sceptically. You didn’t really pay attention to the rumours about this new space hero, who would defeat fleets of pirates singlehandedly and end rings of slavers without breaking a sweat. Understandably, you doubted most of those things were true and therefore tuned out of any conversation that brough him up. Who could blame you? Such feats often couldn’t be accomplished by entire squadrons, let a lone a lone person, who by the looks of it was in his early 20’s. He was handsome enough to be a hero, you admit, and his charisma was undeniable. You wracked your memory as to how such a well-known person made its way onto the ship, before settling on the explanation you were probably too busy working to pay attention to gossip about passengers.

You watched as he gave a few directions, before turning to you.

“My good citizen, would you mind opening the doors leading to the airlock? You can lock the rest. Do not worry, I will take care of everything”.

You simply nodded at him and did as he asked, watching in disbelief as he unsheathed an actual sword and rushed head on towards the enemy. You could only shake your head, sharing a look with your friend as another crew member began displaying the camera footage of your potential saviour. You would find out soon enough that all the stories were true, and that this was not the last time you would work together.

[813ths]

JING.

ok. now i've read it. it's been almost a day since. but i'm still processing everything. it's not even done yet but everything has been one sick rollercoaster ride already. the worst one. (i mean this in the best way btw. because i feel like a crazy person for having several emotions at once.) i know i just had to set up a schedule for this so i can read it properly and digest everything well.as you already know, of course it's super obvious ...aside from the fact that you wrote it, both hyuck and mc are very annoying in the 1st part. a little less for hyuck though, he may be an absolute asshole but at least he has already made it clear that he's not interested in any commitments and all? BUT. he's still not off the hook ofc. as for the mc, as much as she frustrates me that i wish i could just jump into the fic and slap some sense into her, i can also kinda understand her. because i think i experienced something like this before lmaooo even when you're completely aware of the consequences of your bad decisions and choices, you know that it's just gonna keep hurting you - you still do it. you still come back. like there's something deep, deep into your mind that maybe something will change. maybe it'll actually be worth it. then you also try very hard that you'll stop after the thing and then it just becomes a cycle - a toxic one. especially if that someone is this haechan???? WHEW. he sets boundaries, he draws the line and everything but still does the opposite anyway. OF COURSE SHE GETS CONFUSED and that hope that's supposed to vanish just remains, grows even. i actually LOVED the last part of part 1 -- from the part where jeno somewhat talked some sense into her to her not showing up (i was actually REALLY GENUINELY GLAD but i read the 2nd part right after it so... yea. STILL GLAD THO ) my thoughts and rambles about part 2 will be coming shortly but let me just say this. I REALLY ADMIRE. LOVE. APPRECIATE. how you're great at fleshing out their personalities or -- how they act around each other v the rest, how personal n intimate their other interactions are.. which makes the ANGSTY MOMENTS even more hurtful than necessary. despite how stressful these characters are, you still managed to make us feel at least a bit of sympathy for them (lie, it's quite a lot esp and maybe only for our dear mc) ps (i know there's like. more to mc x js than mc x mk but. am i the only one rooting for mark more even if i know it's not gonna pan out at all lmao)

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 1 of 3

wc: 22k (!!!!!!!) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: loss of virginity, very soft sex (hand-holding during sex), lots of kissing, protected sex, haechan fucks...a lot, fingering, oral (f receiving), very faint corruption kink, JEALOUSY, possessiveness (marking, signing on your body), handjob, car sex, cumplay, spit, exhibitionism (!), slight dumbification, slight degradation, titty-sucking etc, sweet aftercare a/n: i worked a lot on this and i really hope u like it.... i really hope it's hot... i hope u like rockstar haechan...please let me know what u think... (fic playlists) | browse the fic tag :)

he's been staring at you all night.

the bass thrums insistent in your chest, overriding your heartbeat, as you cling onto the barrier between the stage and the crowd. lights flash before your eyes, almost blinding you with how fast they blinked, and you can barely make out the faces of the boys onstage as they play their last song of the night. the air is damp, excitement riding high over the crowd in waves of endless screams that never seem to stop. 

and the boy on the far right, fingers moving deftly over the strings of his electric guitar, hasn't taken his eyes off you for the last five minutes. 

a sharp smile tugs at his lips, smokey makeup making his gaze ever more piercing as he looks down at you through his overgrown bangs, hairs at the nape of his neck unruly and wild. the lights throw the features of his face into high contrast, the tattoos curling on his neck and hip screaming for attention, as do the glint of jewelry scattered everywhere on his body. you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze, something lewd about the way he runs his tongue over his lips, eyes practically undressing you. he never seemed to stop moving his body as he played, bouncing on his toes or letting his body lean away from the sound, the music fuelling and becoming one with his movements as if he were a dancer.

as the music crashes and swells towards the end of his solo, his eyes slide over to yours with a practiced precision, as if he had memorized your position in the crowd. swaying his hips from side to side, his eyelids droop just slightly into a half-lidded stare, as he ruts his hips playfully against his guitar. 

the screams of the other fans are deafening, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of your heartbeat in your own ears.

haechan finally looks away, a small smile on his face as he signals to his bandmates towards the song's ending. you feel almost empty as the weight of his attention lifts off of you, pressing yourself up against the railing on tip-toe to try and catch his eye again before sinking down and feeling like an idiot. 

he was just doing fanservice for an audience member, nothing more. you try not to find his actions endearing as he slings his arm around the lead singer, mark, his surprisingly boyish laugh making your heart flutter in your chest as he waves towards his fans one more time. 

people are leaving the venue, the sounds of their excitement getting further and further away, but you stand there, reeling, clutching onto the metal barrier, sure that if you took your hands off it you would fall. finally, glancing up at the stage one last time, you're just about to leave to find your friend, the only reason you were even here, when –

"leaving so soon?" 

the boy is sitting on the stage right in front of you, leaning forward so you can see his face clearly. up close, he's even prettier than before, delicate almost doll-like legs wrapped under ripped skinny jeans, leading up to thick and toned thighs, his slender waist shadowed under his large leather jacket ridden with buckles and straps. without the bright stage lights, you can see the moles on his skin, tracing a dangerous path under the collar of his shirt. 

at your lack of response, he raises his eyebrows. "i asked if you were leaving, princess." 

"i have to find my friend," the words come out rushed. "um…jaemin? your band hired him tonight as the photographer." 

"i remember," he nods. "so…you're not a fan?" 

"no." he nods, silence filling the space between the both of you. you can see him start to formulate a goodbye, his heart-shaped lips parting, but you don't want the conversation to end, you don't want him to stop looking at you. "- but…i really enjoyed your show." 

he looks a little surprised, and a genuine smile spreads sweetly across his face. "why?" he challenges. 

"what?" 

"what did you like about our show?" his eyes glint, and you know he's teasing you. 

"the songs were good," you mumble. 

"yeah?" he licks his lips, a slight hint of nervousness showing on his face as he clears his throat. "who was your favorite member?" 

"huh?" 

"your favorite band member," he repeats, tilting his head to the side. "jeno, he's our drummer, mark's the lead singer, jisung plays bass and i…" he waves his hand absentmindedly towards his guitar, on the stand, still onstage behind him. "i'm haechan," he adds. 

if you wanted to get to know him, it wouldn't hurt to show a little of exactly how much you liked him, would it? "you were my favorite," you admit. "you…you have really good stage presence," you blurt out. 

"stage presence?" 

"yeah. when i'm in the crowd…i can't really pay attention to anything else. and you…" you swallow, heat burning up your cheeks, but the way his eyes were looking at you with curiosity making you finish your thought. "you make the audience feel like they want to please you." the unspoken truth, that you, as part of the audience, wanted to please him, hangs in the air. 

your embarrassment, at saying something so suggestive and raw, is quickly washed away by the smile tugging at the corner of his lip, a smirk that quickly spreads across his face into a grin. you're so mesmerized by it, that you're taken aback by the way he suddenly shifts, hopping down the stage lightly and standing in front of you. 

"princess," he says, softly, placing his hands on the railing next to yours so the sides of your fingers barely brush. "do you want to come to a party?" 

you resist the urge to immediately say yes. "what party?" 

"there's one after every show. jaemin will have been invited, he can take you." the venue has emptied out, even his bandmates have left the stage. and yet, his voice is pitched low as he leans in, body warmth radiating off of him, and you are so close, you can see the smudged eyeliner on his lower lash line, can make out the grey of his colored contact lenses. "you can find me there." 

"but…" you feel lost. "why can't you just take me?" 

"if we show up together, it'll seem a little like we're dating, no?" his voice is quiet, but firm. 

hurt and confusion blossoms in your chest. was it really that serious? keeping your voice as nonchalant as possible, you ask, "would that be so bad? for…for us to date?”

but you know it's the wrong thing to say. 

he exhales slowly, a brief look of pain flitting over his features. he hated doing this, hated reaching the point in conversations where rules and boundaries had to be discussed. nights where he found his girls at the party were the easiest, letting body language and long glances do the talking, as few strings attached as possible. 

but today he couldn't stop looking at you, in the front row, couldn't help sliding his eyes over and checking to see if you were watching him, a pleased thrum burning in his chest every time his gaze found yours. it seemed logical, to spend his time with you tonight. but if he'd known you'd felt like this, he never would have waited onstage. 

"what's your name, princess?" 

"y/n."

"y/n, i'm not making you my girlfriend," he states, bluntly. "i can't, and i don't want to. you can meet me at the party later, but we'll just fuck – nothing else." 

his words make you feel small, his tone harsh compared to his previous meandering way of speaking. even then, the thought of letting him walk away, to never see him again, to end this story on this moment, made you feel worse than anything.  

at the look on your face, he softens slightly. 

"i'm sorry if you thought this was going to be more," he says, quietly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

"i do," you correct him. frustrated, he sighs, and you rush to clarify. "i'll meet you at the party. just…nothing else." your end off hesitantly, unwilling to echo his crude words.

"are you sure?" you think you see his gaze darken, the tension suddenly heightening as he places one of his large hands over your own. his guitar-calloused fingertips are rough as they slide against the back of your hand, drawing shapes that burn into your skin like tattoos. you nod, but he shakes his head — slowly, sweetly patient. "i need to hear you say it," he murmurs, and the words go straight to your gut. 

"i'm sure." your voice comes out as a whisper, but he doesn't seem to mind. he leans in, and just when you think your lips are going to meet, your mouth parting expectantly, he tilts his head and kisses you softly on your cheek. 

"make sure no one sees you, princess," he murmurs, low in your ear, before straightening up. "don't make me wait too long, hm?" 

—

"did anyone follow you up here?" 

haechan sits with his legs hanging off the edge of the roof, arms slung over one of the lower rungs of the railing. he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes another drink from his bottle of red wine, knowing that you're hanging onto his every word. 

"no," you reply, voice barely louder than a whisper. you repeat yourself again, louder, hating the way your voice shakes with hesitance. "no, i don't think so." 

he exhales, shrugging off the leather jacket that hangs large over his frame, his shoulderblades moving under his white shirt, veiny arms pushing the bottle to the side as he shifts himself backwards fluidly so he's further away from the ledge, his long legs stretched out. 

"well?" and now he turns to look at you, dark eyes framed with makeup searching for yours, his gaze heavy. the piercing on his eyebrow glints in the moonlight, and when he leans his weight back on his hands, his shirt rides up so that you can see just the hint of a tattoo curling low on his hip. "are you ready?" 

feet unsteady, you shuffle over to him, standing over him as he watches you through hooded eyes. unsure, you start to sit down next to him, but a hand quickly reaches out to touch your knee, dragging his touch up the back of your thigh, the cold scrape of his rings on your skin feeling rough and claiming all at once. his lips part almost mockingly, commanding you without words to stop. 

he flicks his gaze down to his lap, eyes flickering back up to yours. eyebrows raised, as if in a challenge.

slowly, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands hesitantly grasping for his shoulders. his arms come to steady your waist, slipping under your shirt and touching bare skin, feeling the way your body shifts and moves. it's only because your body is pressed up against his, his hands are roaming up and down your thighs, that he notices something which makes him halt his movements, licking his lips. 

"you're shaking," he murmurs, now brushing the hair out of your eyes, tucking a strand behind your ear as he studies you, taking in the way you're all tensed up, the uncomfortable way your legs are folded, goosebumps erupting every time his fingertips brushed your skin, muscles trembling.

you swallow. "i've never done this before," you admit. 

his eyes widen, now removing his hands from you entirely, letting them fall. "you're a virgin?" 

you nod, heart pounding in your chest. he's looking away, his jaw set, his gaze hardened. did he hate that you had no experience? or would he enjoy that? "i can…" the words come out in a jumble, "you can teach me, i want… i want to-" 

"no." with surprising gentleness, he motions for you to move off his lap, and you follow his actions mindlessly, docile under his touch. 

"do you think i won't be good enough?" you ask, hating the way your voice comes out wounded and achy, hating how weak he made you. 

he pauses, tongue poking into the side of his cheek, and you think you can see a flash of something deep in his eyes. 

"y/n…i can't be your first time." 

"but i want –" 

"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." despite his words, his voice is cold, and clear. "i don't do that." he dusts off his jacket, shrugging it back on as he takes another drink from the bottle, eyes closed, unwilling to look at you for another second. "go home, y/n. i'll see you at the next show." 

you don't move. you kneel there, next to him, eyes desperately searching for his. 

"go home, y/n," he repeats, harshly. 

"i want to stay here," you bite back, stubbornly, hurt making your voice brittle. 

"then you'll have to watch me fuck someone else." lazily, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his phone, and you can see him scroll through his messages, faces and names blurring as you barely decipher him type out another message. his fingers moving across the keyboard, as the anonymous responder sends a series of heart emojis, eagerness palpable through the screen. he locks his phone, the click sound startling you out of your daze, and he puts his phone down on his lap, the action somehow mocking.

"so?" he's still not looking at you, staring straight ahead into the night. "do you want to watch?" 

and as you make your way down the stairs, shame burning at your neck and tears burning hot down your cheeks, you can swear you feel his eyes follow you all the way down. 

—

the feeling of embarrassment curdles in your stomach, and leaves a sour taste in your mouth every time you look in the mirror. it's what leads you to skip the next show, making an excuse to jaemin about 'having other plans'. and then the other, and then the other. and then it's been a week, and your friend has finally managed to drag you to one of their after-parties, pushing you through the door with a little too much enthusiasm. he knows something is bothering you, and he wants nothing more than to help take your mind off of it — but he has no idea that the something is currently leaning against the archway leading off into the living room, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands, and brushing his hands around some girl's waist in a way that made you feel sick. 

jaemin introduces you to mark, out on the balcony. mark is sweet, and friendly, a regular boy-next-door who happens to have face gems twinkling next to his eyes and leather pants tight around his thighs. he asks you about college, and work. he talks about the songs he's writing on his guitar. he catches your drink when you almost drop it over the railing, an easy smile on his face when his fingers brush yours passing it back to you, and a shy grin when he reaches out to lace his fingers with yours properly.

"i'm really busy, but i'd love to talk to you more," he says, sincerely, as he takes your phone from your hands to key in his number. he texts himself so his contact is at the top of your messages, making you promise to text him when you get back. he looks at you meaningfully, squeezing your hand before dropping it to go back to his party. 

there's a moment, where you think to follow. 

but then all of it – every touch, every glance, every speck of light you counted reflected in marks' wide eyes, — all of it is wiped clean the moment you hear a familiar low voice.

"trying to get with my friends now, princess?" 

when the light illuminates his silhouette, hurt registers before anything else. 

hickeys bloom across the side of haechan's neck, trailing down to his chest. only a simple mesh top lies underneath his leather jacket, and you can see the shadows of a few more bruises on his torso when his arm shifts, tugging the jacket open just slightly. his hair is a mess, tugged this way and that by desperate hands, and you think there may be a smear of bright pink lipstick at the corner of his lips. you can smell the reek of flowery perfume, cloyingly sweet, all over his clothes, as he leans back against the railing, eyes turned towards the party happening behind the sliding glass doors.

"i thought you said i was your favorite band member," he murmurs, a mock expression of sadness on his face. "mark's nothing like me." 

"why do you care?" you will yourself to sound more confident, letting the hurt dissolve into defiance. 

"i don't." the pout has melted off his face, a burning intensity now in the way he stares at you, making you shift uncomfortably. a moment passes, where he studies your face, eyes flicking across your features almost methodically. "so am i?" 

"what?" 

"am i still your favorite?" his voice is bitter, as if he knows the answer before asking and he doesn't like it. 

"are you seriously asking me that?" 

"princess –"

he's interrupted by a chime from your phone. the both of you glance down at it at the same time, the text and the sender unmistakeable on your otherwise empty lockscreen. 

mark <3 : thanks for talking to me today :) let me know when you get home safe! 

there's a pause. 

"mark has a girlfriend," haechan blurts out, his voice coarse. 

"what?" you look up at him, trying to figure out if this was a joke, but his face is impassive. 

"he cheats on her all the time with girls from his parties. it's his thing." haechan's still looking at your screen even though your phone has turned off, resolutely not meeting your eyes. 

it takes you a moment to gather yourself, every one of mark‘s actions and words suddenly flashing before you like a flipbook, sweet memories crumpling into dust. "are you lying?" you ask, shakily. 

"why would i?" he finishes his beer, veins shifting on the back of his hand as he crushes the empty can, the crunch of metal dissonant against the warm summer night. his next words are just as rough. "whether or not you get with mark means nothing to me. i don't care. i don't even know you." 

his words ring true, as he pushes off from the railing, leaving you alone on the balcony without another word. the abrupt end to the conversation has you turning, eyes following him as he steps back into the party, looking away a little too late as you see him gesture someone over with a flick of his fingers, her long hair covering both their faces when their lips meet. 

jaemin finds you crying on the balcony, but he can't figure out the reason. you delete mark's contact off your phone the moment you get home, and jaemin promises you he's never taking you to any other show or party with the band ever again. 

—

"there should be an empty room somewhere." the man lets go of your hand, at the foot of the stairs. "can you wait for me inside one? i'll find you in a minute." 

it's only when you're halfway upstairs, when you realise that you're really about to give yourself to a stranger for your first time. 

he has a bright smile, sweet dimples showing each time his lips turn upwards, each time he calls you baby. he's not much older than you, but there's an easy authority in the way he takes your cup from your hands and tells you to stop drinking, getting you glasses of water instead. his body dwarfs yours in size, and when you put your hand on his thigh, you see something shift in his expression that tells you he may not be as gentle as he seems. 

and when you tell him he'll be your first time, his throat bobs as he swallows, eyes dragging up and down your body with a newfound hunger. 

you've never really cared about who you lost your virginity to, not considering it a big occassion or anything to make a fuss over. your mind flits back to two weeks ago, when some boy had cared way more about it than you did. 

"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." 

anger flares in your chest at the thought of it, as you climb up the stairs two steps at a time, and it's just when you're just reaching the first landing, when you suddenly coming to a crashing halt because —

the sound of microphone feedback makes you put your hands over your ears, instinctively, the shrill sound piercing the air. 

a loud bass suddenly starts up, vibrating under your feet. did they hire a live band? the song that booms from downstairs is familiar, and with a jolt, you realise that you know it a little too well. 

that honey-sweet voice, the bitter bite to his words soothed over by the sweetest of tones – drifts up from the speaker, a haunting melody that echoes up the empty staircase, punctuated by a screaming crowd.

as if to further prove it was him, he lets out a laugh at the end of his line, the tone of it dark and sarcastic, the crowd going wild at the sound of it. 

was it a studio recording? it must be, because there was no way this band was downstairs, performing live at this random birthday party, there was no chance…

… except now mark is speaking into the microphone, greeting the audience, asking for the birthday girl. unease stirs in your stomach as you trace your steps back down, a dread that fills you up as the makeshift stage comes back into view, where the DJ had been just a moment ago. 

to where haechan stood, guitar on its stand, eyes already trained on yours, an expression of white hot anger on his face. 

—

"him? really?" 

you can still feel his touch on your arm, from how he dragged you into the bedroom. 

you're frozen on the steps. 

haechan signals to mark, ignoring the questioning looks from the members and protests from the boy as he steps off the platform, making a beeline for the stairs. his brows are furrowed, his teeth gritted as he glares at you. 

"you wanna go upstairs that bad?" he murmurs. "lead the fucking way, princess." 

he starts towards you, and you take a step back, body colliding with the door. the sound seems to ground him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, finally turning away to sit on the bed, the space allowing you to relax just slightly.

"i thought," he starts, patiently, swallowing hard. "i thought i told you to find someone to take care of you, for your first time."  

the reminder of his words feels like a stab in your chest. "i thought you didn't care," you shoot back. 

he ignores you. "did you come here with your friends? where's jaemin?" 

what the fuck was wrong with him? "who are you to tell me what to do?" 

his lips part, but no words come out. sighing, he rubs his face with his hands, still trying to calm down. "y/n," he starts again, voice pained. "i don't want to see you get hurt."

"how do you know he would've hurt me?" 

his eyes meet yours. "did you tell him?" he asks, quietly. 

"tell him i was a virgin? yes." anger seeps into your tone, as you glare at him. "he reacted very differently from you." 

"y/n that's not a good thing!" he stands up, his voice raised. "are you that desperate to get fucked?" 

you step back in alarm, tears forming in your eyes. fear, of the situation you almost put yourself in, of the boy in front of you, makes your throat close up, and you can't help the way your body tenses. the cruelness of his words settles in a little too late, an acidic burn in your chest. 

haechan feels the tips of his fingers go numb as you start to cry, guilt flooding his mind in a way he rarely felt. his face crumples, and he does't know what to do when you curl in on yourself, every sound you make feeling like a punch to his ribs.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, reaching for you tentatively. when you don't pull away, his arms circle around you, and he makes sure to leave enough space for you to breathe or break free if you wanted to. "i'm sorry," he repeats again, as you sink into his chest, needing his warmth as much as you hated his presence. 

"take it back," you mumble. "take it back right now."

"i take it back," he says, immediately. "i didn't mean any of it. i'm sorry." 

"you don't get to reject me," you start, voice shaky, "and control who i choose to be with."

he sucks in a breath, gripping onto you a little tighter. "y/n –" 

"it's…it's fucked up," you hiccup, fisting at the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it in your fists in frustration.

"i know," he breathes. "i know." 

his hand comes up to stroke your hair, and you hate how it really does manage to comfort you, your breaths steadying as he pats your back clumsily. when you think you've calmed down enough, you place your hands on his chest, and he backs away instinctively, looking down at his feet. never meeting your eyes.

"i'm tired, haechan," you whisper. "i don't want to play whatever game you're playing." he doesn't respond, so you continue. "you don't want to fuck me, but you don't want anyone else to." 

"i do." his response is so quiet, you barely catch it.

"you want other people to fuck me?" 

"no, i don't." he lifts his head, his expression conflicted. "i…i want to be your first time." 

"what?" 

when he doesn't respond, you sigh, agitated. "haechan, i already told you i don't want to play your games anymore –" 

"not a game," he cuts you off, softly. "i'll take care of you." the gentleness of his voice makes you feel small. it's almost overwhelming, the way he looks into your eyes, without his usual apathy and bitterness. 

"i thought you said you don't do that?" it takes you all your willpower to not give in. 

"i don't," he breathes. "but with you i will." he's starting to think he has no choice – that there's no one else in the world who's going to take care of you the way he knows you need. he doesn't know when he decided to give in, in between watching you place your hand on that man's thigh, and you standing in front of him now. all he knows is that he either had to do this, or make you disappear from his life entirely. 

the words hang in the air. even now, feeling so torn and hurt and tired, your body can't help how much you want him, hyper-attuned to the little details in his appearance: the messy black nail polish scrawled on his nails, smoky eye make-up that makes his gaze all the more intense and devouring. there's a heady smell hanging onto his skin and clothes, rich and indulgent vanilla and musk, filling up your senses with a giddy desire. long legs in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, his thighs stretching out the fabric in a way that almost looked like it hurt. 

"okay," you mumble. his lips part, but you answer him before he has a chance to ask. "please take care of me." your voice is small, yet each word seems to catch fire, incinerating the air between you. 

his tongue darts out, wetting his lip. "yeah?" 

you nod. finally giving in to the pull of your body, you take a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. 

"i'm sorry…about all of it." he murmurs. "thank you for trusting me, still." 

you can't think of anything to say, so you nod again. it feels like your heart is in your throat. 

he swallows. "do you…you shouldn't…" his eyes dart around the room. "we shouldn't do it here. in…in some strangers bedroom." gently, he touches your arm, looking at you hesitantly. "would you feel comfortable if we did it in your apartment? or i could bring you to my shared apartment with the band…they wouldn't be back yet. but we might have to be quick…"

your head feels like it's spinning. 

at your lack of response, he rambles on, eyes focused on yours, trying to discern your thoughts. "w-what do you think? or…if you really want to get comfortable i don't mind booking a hotel, it's a little last minute but-" he bites his lip. "do you want to meet somewhere else or i could take you in my car? i haven't drank much, i swear, but if you don't trust me-" 

"stop," you blurt out. 

he freezes, the hand grazing your arm dropping to his side, fingers playing with the rips in his jeans. 

"i'm sorry," he says, softly.

"no, i mean…stop asking me questions." you exhale. "i trust you," you repeat, softly. every word of it was true — despite everything, you were still the same person sitting on his lap up on the rooftop. "just…take care of me, however you want." 

he swallows. "you sound…" exhaling, he shakes his head to clear it. "okay. is your apartment empty?" 

"yes," you whisper. "jaemin's away for tonight." 

"i'll drive," he murmurs. and now he takes a step closer to you, until he's all you can see, the room melting away. "but before that…can i kiss you first, princess?" you nod, transfixed by him, as he leans in. 

haechan kisses soft. 

his lips are plush, and soft, taking your bottom lip between his own sweetly. he tilts his head slowly as if he's afraid he'll overwhelm you by moving too fast, his lips parting as he invites you to do the same, his hands going to the back of your head to guide you. a soft sigh escapes the back of his throat when your lips part and he can taste you, and you can taste him — vanilla like how he smells, with the slight bite of alcohol. your hand comes up to touch his round cheeks, surprisingly soft too, and he smiles into this kiss. 

he's the one to break apart from you, with a patience that feels rehearsed. he's taking care of you, as he leans in so your noses brush, your breaths mingling. 

"haechan…" he hums, encouragingly. "i…you know this isn't…my first kiss, right?" 

a pause. "i know," he murmurs. 

"so… so you don't have to be gentle." you squirm slightly as his touch grows heavier, eyes darkening at the implications behind your words. 

he backs away from you, hands pulling you with him as he sits down on the bed. his eyes flick down to his lap as he lowers his gaze, before dragging them painstakingly up to yours again. 

"sit, princess." 

this time, when he feels you tremble against him, your knees caging in his hips as you straddle him, all he does is lean in and kiss you — just as sweet as he did the first time. 

"i'm gentle with you because i want to be," another kiss, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip. "not because i have to." his fingers guide your chin upwards, baring your neck to him as he leans in and leaves a kiss on a spot under your jaw. and then a longer, more lingering kiss. and now he's making his way down your neck, each press of his lips on your skin longer and rougher than the last, and now you're sure he's sucking marks onto your neck, especially when you feel a slight sting of teeth. 

you're shifting against him restlessly, body hardly your own as you fall under his touch. you don't know how long you spend there, in his lap, as he works on your neck, taking breaks to kiss you on the lips, his sighs echoing into the cavern of your mouth as it falls open with need. it's when he sucks lightly on your tongue, almost boyish in the way he backs away with a small smile, when a soft sound escapes your lips. 

"yeah?" he murmurs, leaning in again, letting the tip of his tongue brush against yours gently. "you like that?" 

you nod. 

"you sound so pretty," he breathes, as he slots his lips with yours again, humming against yours as you let out another small whimper. 

"haechan-" you mumble, and he draws away, looking at you expectantly. "i think i'm ready." 

"really?" his hands on your waist give you a light squeeze. "you want me to take you home now?" 

you're still giddy from the heat radiating off his skin, your lips craving his contact again now he's stopped kissing you. you nod, and he smiles, gently guiding you off his lap as he unlocks the door. 

he's gentle the whole way down – as he leads you away from the main staircase so you wouldn't be seen, the crowd still distracted by the band. he cradles you carefully against his side all the way out of the back gates and into his car, and when your breath catches as he leans over to buckle your seatbelt for you, he's gentle even as he presses into you for a spur of the moment kiss, tongue licking into your mouth with more fervor. 

it's not a song that plays in the car as he drives and you try to remember the way to your apartment, but rather it's a low and sultry beat — bluesy harmonies stretched out over pulses. part of you wonders if he played it on purpose, because imagining his voice set against it already had you melting against the leather seats.

it would all be rather sweet – how gentle he's being, the soft way he smiles at you in the dim lights of your lift lobby, the way he holds your hand and lets you lean against him as you head higher and higher, the space around you feeling like a vacuum of trapped adrenaline and lust. 

but there was also no denying the fact that he jolted at the slightest sound, his grip on you tight and slack all at once, the tenderness in his eyes here one second and gone the next. a hurt you could almost taste on your tongue, that you were holding onto something so fragile, and that to him it seemed the worst thing that could happen would be if he were found with you.

—

but all of it changes, when you're alone in your room. the weight of his attention, that you'd felt even as one person amidst a screaming crowd, seems to intensify tenfold as he lets his jacket slide to the floor, eyes on you. 

he reads the apprehension in your body, the way you hover near your bed, waiting for him to guide you. 

"let me know if it's too much, okay?" he murmurs, as he pulls you in for a hug first, feeling you warm against him as you cling on to his embrace. "you can tell me to stop whenever, and i will." his hands rub circles up your waist, teasing on the silver of skin between your top and your skirt. 

you nod, but he shakes his head – a thumb brushing across your cheek. 

"use your words," he murmurs. "so i know you mean it." 

"okay," you breathe, now guiding him to the bed yourself, curiosity getting the better of you. you had almost forgotten, in the midst of everything, why exactly you went to the party, and the familiar need sparks back to life in you. 

haechan sits down against the headboard, pulling you into his lap, the movement feeling even more natural now. he can see that you're nervous and eager at the same time, hands fumbling with the soft material of his shirt, unsure what to do as you shift around on top of him. 

"can i kiss you?" in the soft lamp light of the room, the sharp-cut edges of his face seem to blur, large doe-eyes looking up at you kindly. it makes you want to lean in, so you do — slotting your lips with his boldly, kissing him the way you wanted from him. it surprises him, the way you press your lips against him harshly, the gentle graze of your teeth against his plush lip. 

he lets out a small laugh, and kisses you back just as fiercely, the atmosphere in the room melting as temperature skyrockets, until it's almost unbearable to be separated from you by layers of fabric. 

"may i-" he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, and when your voice chokes out an affirmative, he's quick to yank it over his head, movements rough, exposing beautiful skin, his body warm and solid under your palms as you lean into him. 

your cheeks warm, and he notices – a small smile on his face as his hands cup your cheeks, and he gives you a sweet kiss, abruptly different from the others. suddenly, it's almost too tender, the way he looks up at you with endearment in his eyes, kissing you chastely, and you sink into it a little guiltily, enjoying the innocence of it. 

when you feel your heart reach its boiling point, your own hands go to the hem of your shirt, and you pull it over your head. you don't mean to slow down your movements, not meaning to tease or entice, but the way his eyes darken looking at your body made you wish you did it on purpose. 

"pretty," he praises, head dipping to press a kiss between your collarbones. and another one, lower done, almost reaching your cleavage. the bra you had chosen mindlessly that morning was a thin bralette, and it did little to hide how aroused you were, your nipples poking stiff peaks through the fabric. 

but still, he doesn't make any move to remove it, peppering kisses on your bare chest, over the slope of your breasts, almost slobbering at your skin, lips dewy and wet. his arms are firm around you, meeting each one of your movements and steadying you, helping you rock your hips into him as desire surges in your body. 

"haechan, –" his name had never sounded so breathless falling from your lips.   

"yes, baby?" 

the term of endearment makes you feel smaller in his lap, the only thing making you feel better was the way he was just as heated as you, his breaths coming hard and fast. he wanted everything to be perfect, he never wanted to rush you into anything you weren't comfortable with, his hands staying firm on your lower back. 

you tug at the bralette covering your chest impatiently, the fabric never feeling more uncomfortable on your skin. 

"you want me to take it off?" he asks, head nuzzling into your neck as his fingers wander up your back. you feel it loosen around you, his finger expertly fiddling the clasp open, dragging it down and accidentally brushing against your hard nipples, making you hiss.

"i'll make you feel good," he promises, softly, lowering his head, kissing down the slope of your breasts. he makes eye contact with you, searching your eyes for any form of discomfort.

"be gentle," you murmur, nodding for him to continue. "they feel sensitive." 

"of course," he mumbles, before starting to lightly kitten-lick at your nipple, the feeling all at once new and arousing, making you pulse against him in his lap. he circles his tongue around your areola, being as gentle as possible, opting not to flick at your nipples but rather suck one into his mouth, heart-shaped full lips sinful against your chest. the heat between your legs is overwhelming, as he switches to your other side, his hand coming up to knead your breast, warm palms moving over skin and making you giddy. 

"please," you whimper, as he laps at you. "please, i need you, please –" 

"you have me," he murmurs, one of his hands reaching out for yours blindly, scrabbling against the back of your hand from where it's pressed against his chest, flipping it over and interlocking your fingers. "i'll take care of you. lie down for me?"

he moves you off his lap, guiding you onto your back, propping up pillows you can rest against. the familiar feeling of your bed is only faintly there, your senses filled with the sweet heady smell of haechan, from the perfume and lotion clinging onto his skin, as you watch him remove the numerous rings on his fingers, placing them carefully on your bedside table. 

haechan kisses his way down your body, suckling on your skin, leaving longer, lingering bruises on your hips, finally reaching your thighs as he lowers himself down. he guides your hips up with a heavy hand, sliding a cushion carefully under as he situates himself between your legs. you're so sensitive, that the feeling of his long hair against your skin has your thighs sliding together, squeezing around his head accidentally. 

"you okay?" he murmurs, as he kisses your thighs again, patiently easing your thighs open. 

you suddenly feel shy, knowing he was about to see you so intimately. even when you had agreed to let him take care of you, even as you trusted him completely, you had never imagined seeing him in between your spread legs like this, somewhere you hadn't even explored much yourself. would he be disappointed or disgusted? what if he didn't like what he saw or felt? 

"baby…." he rubs a hand carefully on your thigh, tips of his fingers slipping just under the hem of your skirt. "is this okay? do you want to stop?" 

"i don't want to stop," you admit, and you find that its true. 

haechan looks at you, studying your face. after a moment, he crawls back up your body, brushing the hair out of your eyes before he brushes his lips against yours softly, as if asking for permission. you grant it, lips parting as his warm mouth meets yours, a welcome taste in your mouth that's become familiar. you kiss for a while, his hand finding yours in the mess of sheets and intertwining your fingers, until you feel confident enough to slip your other hand to the zipper of your skirt. 

you tug it off your legs, haechan breaking away from the kiss to help you, moving down your body. 

"i'll take care of you," he whispers, his hand never letting go of yours. "these are so pretty, baby," he whispers, a finger tracing over the lacy pattern on the front of your panties. you've never been more aware of your own arousal seeping out of you, as he places a kiss low on your hip, and then another just on the waistband of your panties, and suddenly, you want nothing more than for them to come off. 

your fingers tug at them impatiently, and he takes hold of your hand, kissing your fingertips lightly. "let me," he murmurs, and you hear something low and raw in his voice, something that maybe wasn't there before. sitting up slightly, he pulls your panties down your legs, assuming his position as quickly as he'd left it once the fabric was out of the way, rearranging your legs so they're spread open for him. 

the tension in the room fills your lungs up like smoke. you barely mumble his name, beg him to do something, before you feel a soft touch against your clit, making your hips jolt and you let out a sharp exhale. 

"let me hear you," he encourages, gently, as he starts to rub circles into your sensitive nub, dipping down to your entrance and spreading your wetness all over your cunt. your hips keep shifting around, so he pulls his arm around to press down into you, keeping you still for him as he slowly pleasures you.

"t-this feels…" you start, lost in your own head. you've touched yourself before, but the sensitivity seemed to be heightened to an exaggerated amount once it was someone else touching you. he looks up at you, face still wickedly beautiful, the gentlest look in his eyes laced with something like desperation.

"can't believe i got so lucky," he murmurs, suckling a kiss close to your heat, high on the soft skin of your thigh. your legs clamp around his head, and it makes him groan, breath heavy against your cunt. "you're pretty everywhere, baby. can't believe i'm the only one." 

the words flood your veins with a dark thrill, the idea of being his, of him taking all your firsts. "hypocrite," you mumble, cutting yourself off with a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit. 

"maybe a little," he admits, shyly, as he dips his head back down and flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, his fingers sliding down to your entrance instead. 

you cry out at the foreign feeling, the wet muscle of his tongue stroking your clit expertly while his slender finger slips past your entrance. his name, strung along by curses, echoes from your mouth as he teases his finger in and out of your entrance, tongue lying flat and wide as he laps at your clit in a way that made you feel like you were already close. 

stiffening his tongue, his flicks your clit with the tip, humming into you just as he curls his finger against your walls in a come-hither motion. he knows when you cum — back arching as you seemed to chase for stimulation above you, your walls sucking tightly around his finger and kneading it eagerly, making him groan as he imagines the feeling of you tight around his cock. he lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, his nose bumping your clit and eliciting another drawn out whimper, tongue teasing your entrance. 

when your hands push at his head, he backs away easily, once again making his way up your body to check on you, the warmth of his bare chest against yours making you feel safe. 

"good?" he kisses you, tongue moving against yours, inviting you to take a taste. "did you like that, sweetheart?" 

you nod, gasping. "haechan…"

"you did perfect for me, baby." his hands run up and down your sides as he kisses down your neck, enjoying the way your body wraps yourself around him, arms pulling his weight down into you. 

"i still need you," you murmur. the pleasure from before had only satiated you for a little bit, and the feeling of his hard length poking at your thigh was making your head spin with a whole different level of desire, as you grapple for his belt. "please, i've been good-" 

"you're perfect." he comforts you with a kiss. 

he guides your hand away from him gently, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants slide onto the bed as you lie back down on your pillows. tugging his underwear down, you swallow as he squeezes his thick length, the pink tip leaking clear liquid. he watches you watch him spread it on his length, pumping himself slowly, drawing out the pleasure as he moans, a sweet tenor sound that rings lewdly in the air. you watch, mesmerized, as he thrusts his hips forward a few times, stroking himself with a slight twist of his wrist before letting go abruptly, letting his cock slap up against his lower stomach. 

fishing around in the pocket of his discarded jeans, he takes out a condom wrapper, opening it quickly and rolling it onto his cock. you're sure you're making a mess of the sheets, you can feel your arousal and his saliva on your thighs, can feel another gush of wetness seep out of you as he lowers himself over your body and slides his cock against your folds. 

he grinds himself on you, hoping to get you wetter so it may be less painful when he enters you. his fingers find your clit again, this time he rubs it urgently, with just the correct amount of pressure to have you shaking and lifting your hips into him. 

"stop me anytime," he reminds you, as he lines himself up to your fluttering entrance. "you have to relax for me, baby." he pitches his voice lower now, and you can't tell if he's comforting you or if he's slowly being pulled under by lust too. he makes soft shushing noises, nipping at your lips with gentle kisses as you whimper, feeling the bulbous tip of his cock slowly stretch you open, his fingers resuming his movements. the head of his cock still feels shallow inside you, when it suddenly brushes against a sensitive spot, and his fingers on your clit glide just right, making you cum, hard. he feels you clamp down tightly around his tip, and he hisses, eyes squeezed shut. his mind wiped clean for just a second as pleasure thrums through his entire body, an aching pain that makes his mouth hang open.

"'m sorry," you whimper, tears prickling to your eyes as you interpret his expression as annoyance. "i'm so sorry, it just felt so good —" 

"baby…" he looks at you, his face morphing into panic when he sees the tears in your eyes. "don't apologise, please, you have nothing to be sorry for." 

you still look unconvinced, so he reaches for one of your hands, holding it in his and kissing your fingertips. "you are so pretty when you cum," the filthy words sound sacred the way he says them. "and you felt so fucking good around my cock," he murmurs, voice sinking low again.

you begin to relax again, sniffling slightly as you adjust your legs around his waist, feeling him slide a little deeper into you. he coaxes you into taking more of him, kissing you sweetly as he slips in further and further, until finally the both of you are groaning, his body shuddering slightly against yours as he feels your warm gummy walls tight around him. 

"so tight," he groans, cursing again under his breath as he circles his hips, drawing a moan from you as your thighs tense. "how are you so tight?," he panted, tone still teasing despite him trying desperately not to buck his hips into you. "has no one ever fucked you before or something?" 

you don't have it within you to tease back. 

"only you, haechan." the words are reverent, hushed. it strips him of any of his cockiness, his teasing, his boldness — his features softening at the way you look up at him, trying to maintain eye contact even as the ache between your legs drove you insane, not wanting to waste a single moment of this, in case it never happened again. 

"haechan…" your nails rake against his back, drawing him out of his daze. "please fuck me." 

"fuck," he breathes, as he slowly starts to move in you, obsessed with the way the words sound in your voice. his thick length drags against your walls, heavy inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal seeping into the room. you feel full and stretched out, sated by having him so close to you, it feels like you can feel him deep in your gut the way he's thrusting into you, especially when he hikes your legs higher on his waist, drawing a long moan from you as he manages to stimulate a spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

he changes his pace, now barely pulling himself out of you as he nudges the head of his cock against your sweet spot. licking a long stripe from your neck up to your ear, one hand tangles itself with yours, while the other ghosts over your sensitive nipples. 

"i'm cumming," the words come out rushed as you barely hold onto your senses, cumming harshly for the third time, your body thrown into pleasure as your muscles tense. he succumbs to the feeling of your walls kneading his length and squeezing tight around him, eyes going unfocused and hazy as his lips part, a moan drawn out from his lungs without conscious thought. he's aware of the way your muscles tense as he fucks both of you through your highs, relishing in the sting of your fingernails on his back as he slows down his movements. he draws out both your highs by leaning in and sucking on the mark he'd left behind earlier that evening, letting his moan buzz and fizzle on your skin. 

you feel dazed and tired, arms never letting go of him, legs unwilling to unwrap from his waist as you cling to him. he rolls you both onto your sides, caressing your body sweetly and stroking your hair, mumbling questions and concerns that you can't register, nodding to everything in a blur. the weight of him feels good, his body warm and solid against your back, and once again that feeling of safety, that feeling of complete trust, washes over you. it makes you feel whole even as he pulls out of you with a wince, discarding the condom in the trash by your bedside. 

you cling to him, and he knows you need it — so he doesn't let you go, heavy hands patting your back clumsily, slightly rough and out of rhythm, just like the way your heart beats against your ribcage.

when he feels your arms loosen, relaxing finally after the high of hormones and adrenaline, he slips away quickly to the bathroom, putting on his underwear as he goes. he grabs a towel, turning your tap on to warm water and checking the temperature with his wrist as he washes his hands, his face, cleaning himself up. running the towel under the water and squeezing it dry in the sink. his movements methodical, as he slips out of your room and into the kitchen, looking around for a glass of water. 

he immediately races back the moment he hears a sound from your bedroom, shutting the door behind him just as you sit up, your expression clearing once you see him again. pulling his shirt from where it's discarded on the floor, he slides into bed, kissing you on the cheek. 

he cleans you up with soft strokes, the warm towel soothing on your skin even though he hadn't really been rough. he makes you drink from the glass of water, watching you drain it carefully. finally, slipping his large shirt over your frame, swallowing at the way it envelopes your body, a feeling stirring in his gut that he ignores. 

"y/n? are you with me?" when you don't respond, wide eyes looking up at him, he touches his fingers to your cheek. "baby?" 

each brush of his skin against yours felt like trails of fire, lingering warmth even after he pulls away. every look he gave you through his lashes, the slight pout to his lips when he broke away from a kiss, made you feel like you were caught in a riptide, your pulse out of your control. you wanted to crawl into him and make a home in his chest. you never wanted him to look at you again with his shuttered eyes, to have to dream yourself into the skin of someone else as he touched them. 

you had to tell him. "haechan…haechan i…" you reach for him, and he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you softly. you try to speak again, lips parting, but he envelopes your lips in a gentle kiss, nipping at your mouth each time you part, swallowing all your sounds with the sweep of his tongue. 

"princess…" his voice sounds raw, and coarse. "don't say anything you don't mean." 

"but-" 

"you don't know me." was it regret in his voice, or your wishful thinking? "you don't know me at all. what you're feeling right now…" he touches a hand to your chest, brushing a kiss on your cheek. "it's because of the sex, alright?" 

you shake your head. 

your next words come out slurred, your eyelids starting to droop as sleep begins to tug at your mind, threatening to pull you under. "but…why can't i know you?"  

he takes a deep breath. "i don't want you to."

"but i don't want this to end." 

he holds you tighter against his chest at your words. 

"this?" he questions, quietly. he keeps his voice light, but it still pierces your heart like a shard of glass. "there isn't a 'this' princess. this isn't happening again." 

"why?" 

"i don't want you to get attached." he cradles you even more carefully against him, freckling mellow kisses onto your forehead, the contrast between his words and his actions ringing dissonant in your ears. "besides… why would i spend the night with the same girl twice, hm?"

sleep softens the hurt from the words he's saying. his voice fades slightly, his touch against your skin roaring ever louder in your ears. "you know i won't be here when you wake up, right?" his fingers brush against your forehead lightly, pushing hair away from your eyes. 

you knew. 

but you still cried in the morning all the same — the golden-orange sunrise beautiful and terribly cruel, just like the boy you were perhaps falling in love with. 

—

you spend the weekend alone. 

you spend the weekend wondering if haechan thought of you at all, after he left. thinking if what he said was real, and it was just adrenaline and lust, then why did your heart ache at the thought of him? at his face on posters outside the small concert venue, inviting you to a show next week? why did you always turn at the slightest hint of his voice? 

you try to forget him. you try to tell yourself he wasn't worth it. but deep down all of it, a part of you still hopes, which is perhaps why you were letting jaemin drag you past the poster of haechan, into the alleyway that led backstage.

"are you sure you need me there?" you pull at jaemin's sleeve, your other hand holding onto his spare camera carefully as he guides you into the venue.  

"i do," he insists, pushing through a set of doors leading to the stage. "mark wants extra photos for their social media page and i can't be doing all of that at once." 

you can hear the boys talking just around one of the curtains, sprawled out onstage, a cacophany of sounds as they absentmindedly plucked at their instruments. you were going to see haechan again. you can't tell if it makes you want to run towards them, or go back home. that familiar sense of hope, the kind you experienced in the crowd that first night, on the balcony, in the bedroom and in the moonlight, fills you up slowly, sweet and light. maybe, if he just saw you again…

"y/n-" jaemin puts a hand on your arm, stopping you gently before you could rush onto stage. 

"yes?" you prompt. 

"i know i dragged you here, but if you're feeling uncomfortable," he starts, and you start to slip away, but he only tightens his grip. "let me finish — if you're feeling uncomfortable, or if any of them are hurting you, let me know okay?" 

you hadn't told him about haechan, something close to shame seeming to rise up and choke you whenever you tried to bring it up. all jaemin knew was that the last two times you had come into contact with the band it had upset you badly, and as your best friend and roommate he never wanted to see you crying on the balcony again. 

"what would you do? beat them up?" 

"i would leave." his serious tone doesn't change, unaffected by your attempt to lighten the mood. 

"but the money –" 

"no job is more important than you being okay," he insists. "i don't want to work for them if they hurt you. okay?" 

"okay." 

even though he looks unconvinced, his grip on your arm loosens and he takes your hand instead, pulling back the curtain with his other. 

you can hear him say something to mark about today's shoot, hear him greet the rest of the members. you guess that mark is rising to greet him, hear something like jisung and jeno standing too, but everything fades to white noise when the sight you're looking at clicks in your mind, the one member of the band who's voice you hadn't heard, who hadn't bothered to turn around at jaemin's arrival.

or rather, the one boy who was too pre-occupied to — considering he had his tongue in a pretty girl's mouth. 

haechan was facing away from you, away from the rest of his bandmates, you could really only see his broad back under his denim jacket, but the careful tilt of his head as he kissed her was all too familiar, as was the movement of his arms around her waist. and when she shifted in his lap, his hands pulling her hips down unto his, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, a sharp pain searing at your chest in emotions you couldn't pinpoint. 

"fuck, sorry about that –" mark's voice is flustered, and now a tall boy, the bassist, jisung, is stepping in front of you, blocking your view of him. 

"sorry," he echoes, and you're momentarily caught off guard by how deep his voice is - husky and quiet. you blink up at him, fog slowly clearing in your mind, and he smiles shyly. "he doesn't usually do that." 

"who?" 

"um, haechan…" he looks back briefly, and you see haechan helping the girl to her feet, her body crumpled into his like she couldn't bear to be separated from his touch. you feel a wave of second-hand shame again – was that what you had looked like? 

and then jisung turns back to you, towering over you again and blocking everything from view. "he usually only does this after the show, but today…" 

"it's fine," you say, faintly. 

jisung looks at you, carefully. "you're jaemin's friend y/n, right?" 

you nod, half your mind still on what could be going on right now. behind jisung, you see mark pull haechan, now alone, towards a corner of the stage, whispering angrily at him. haechan is slouched lazily, picking at his nails with all the look of someone who couldn't care less about what was going on. 

"i saw you at our last show," jisung continues. "i was going to…i was going…" he breaks off, a little embarrassed, fumbling with his words. "are you sure you're okay?" 

"i'm fine, jisung." you repeat, your voice a little more firm, as you finally look back at him.

he blinks. "you know me?" 

jisung still looked worried, but there was something sweet about the way he shrunk a little under your attention, eyes darting all over your face and around his surroundings, blush tinging his cheeks.

this you were comfortable with – something completely different from the way haechan's eyes always tried to drink you in, or the way your vision would go blurry at the edges when he would stand in front of you. talking with jisung was easy, the confidence that haechan drained from you seeping back and settling in. 

he had meant it, when he said you shouldn't get attached. you just had to learn it before it brought you more hurt you couldn't justify.

"jisung," you emphasise. "of course i know you. you play bass, right?" 

"y-yeah," he stammers, pointing unecessarily at his dark blue bass guitar on its stand. "i don't know, i guess i always thought people didn't really know me even if they knew the band." he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, black hair falling over his eyes. "people usually choose to stand where haechan or mark are." 

"you usually stand on the left?" 

he nods, bashfully, and a smile tugs at your lips. 

"i'll make sure to stand there, later during the show." 

"wow, okay." he pauses for a moment, steeling himself. "how about after?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"would you want to meet…after the show?" he hesitates, voice soft. 

your brow furrows slightly. "do you mean the party?" 

"we don't have to go," he blurts out. "i don't mean…i don't mean like what haechan usually does after the show."  

his name is an unwelcome sting, but the way jisung sneaks glances up at you from where he looks down at his feet makes it a little easier to forget. "then what do you want to do?" 

"w-we can get something to eat." he says it like he just suggested robbing a bank. 

oh. "like a date?" 

mortified, his lips part, and you can tell that he's frantically trying to read your tone, trying to figure out if the idea of it made you uncomfortable, whether you were suggesting because you wanted it. it's so endearing, watching him start his sentences and stop them, the hem of his shirt crumpled and worn out by his nervous fingers. 

eventually, he takes a deep breath, and settles for a question. "d-do you mind if it's a date?" 

did you? 

was there any hope in waiting for haechan, when he had made it so clear that you would never have him again?

jisung is still looking at you like you have all the power in the world to hurt him. 

"i don't mind," you say, softly, feeling a hum of satisfaction in your chest at the way it makes his lips part in blissful surprise. a beat. "do you want it to be…?" 

"yes," he blurts out. "please," he adds, shyly. 

the awkward silence between the two of you feels good, the lightness of it familiar and giddy, like a schoolgirl crush. jisung can't stop smiling, biting his lips slightly as he turns to face mark, who's crossed to the front of the stage to speak to them. 

" — jisung, jaemin will start with your photos first. we'll just be shooting the rehearsal process today, so there's no need to-" he breaks off, brow furrowing. "jisung why are you so red?" 

"i-it's w-warm in here." 

"well you should cool off before jaemin takes your photos." jisung nods, flustered, and he walks offstage with jaemin to prepare. jeno too, strolls away with a wave to mark, leaving him alone at the front of the stage. 

with you. 

mark glances over at you, his eyes darting over your face, trying to read your expression. you can almost hear haechan's voice from that night, the ghost of the hurt still palpable in your bones. but the moment you take a step back, thinking that you should find jaemin and jisung, mark seems to have made up his mind — his face set, he starts to walk over to you, and you find your own footsteps falter.

"um, y/n, can i speak to you for a second?" 

you take a deep breath. "is this about the photos for later?" 

"no…not exactly." he clears his throat. there's a pause, as he seems to pick his words. "y/n, did i do something wrong?" 

you blink at him. "what do you mean?"

"i mean, i know it was a while ago, but i thought we were getting along fine at the party," it feels like he's rehearsed this to some capacity, or perhaps it was just the confidence of being a lead singer. "but then since then every time i saw you…i feel like you've been avoiding me." 

"i haven't been avoiding you." you take a deep breath. "mark, do you have a girlfriend?" 

his eyes widen. "are you…are you asking me out?"

"what?" you balk. "no!" 

"oh." his face falls. "i mean…i just thought…"

"that's just too bad, markie." 

it’s practically deja vu.

haechan stands behind you, his body radiating warmth, and you inhale sharply. surprisingly, he doesn't smell saccharine, the way he always does with the girls he chooses — his skin smells like baby powder and fresh linen. your body is doing that thing again – where you hone in on his presence and the whole world dissolves, and you're hyper attuned to the way his arm hovers near yours, his breath on the back of your neck. anything you were about to say to mark completely lost in your brain. 

exasperated, mark runs his hand through his hair. "haechan…don't be difficult." 

"i'm not." you feel almost numb when his hand touches your elbow, sliding down to hold your hand tight in his grip. "y/n and i have to talk about something." 

"can't it wait?" 

"it's urgent," haechan says, sarcastically, giving you a sharp tug towards him. your feet stumble as haechan starts to walk off, and you turn one last time to see mark standing there, looking a little forlorn, suddenly small under the bright lights of the stage. 

"sorry, –" you mumble out. mark frowns, starting towards you. 

but now haechan really pulls you along, yanking curtains aside and accessing a short flight of stairs. you can feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him in waves, making it a little hard to breathe as you try to keep up, afraid of what he'll say if your hand slips from his grasp. 

he guides you along a corridor and through a doorway, stepping into the warm light of a dressing room, the door slamming shut behind you as haechan pulls you in. 

you're almost afraid to look at him, but you do anyway. 

he's slightly breathless from the walk down, stooping slightly to lock the door with careful hands. when he straightens and steps towards you, the lights hitting his features, you can see that he's covered up the hickeys on his neck with makeup. something mark made him do, no doubt. 

"haechan -" 

"park jisung? really?" he sneers, backing you into the dressing table. 

 "what?" 

"don't lie to me," he demands. "i saw you." 

"really?" you fold your arms across your chest as he moves in closer, planting both hands on the table on either side of your hips, caging you in. "you looked busy. where did she go, hm? did mark send her away, or did you?" 

haechan rolls his eyes. "that's none of your business." 

"jisung said you don't usually bring girls to the rehearsal," you continue, watching the way his tongue pokes into his cheek in annoyance. "what happened?" 

"you two talked about me?" he demands. "what else did you do? make plans to fuck after the show?" 

"i'm not a virgin anymore," you remind him, your voice laced with a warning. "i thought you only cared about my first time." 

haechan groans. seeing you talk to jisung out of the corner of his eye, seeing your hands brush and his friend's head duck shyly to the side, gave him a weight on his chest which grew heavier each time he took a breath, each time he had to hear one of jisung's small laughs. 

"if you want to have mediocre sex then i couldn't care less," he snaps. "just know that you're going to have to fuck a lot of people before you forget me." 

you can see that you're losing him, the familiar closed-off look coming back to his face, anger dissapating into indifference. 

"what is there to forget?" you ask, hurt and anger making your voice shake. 

haechan is staring at you, his face now so close to yours if you leaned in just slightly your lips would brush. 

"you don't mean that," he says, quietly. 

and just like that, all the fight drains out of you. 

"haechan, jisung just wants to take me out on a date." his features tense, and he bites his lower lip harshly. "would you ever ask me out on a date, haechan?" 

he doesn't respond.

"would you?" 

"i told you," he breathes. "i don't do that." 

"you told me you didn't want to be my first time, and you took it back," you remind him, quietly. 

"that's different." you can't help the disappointment that wells up inside you, and you know he can see it from the way his face falls too. 

"don't look at me like that, princess." he sinks into your touch easily, warmth once again circling your body.  

you don't know if you wished haechan was a liar, or if you wished he wasn't. if he was telling the truth about everything, it would be easier to let go of him, to walk away from someone who could only cause you pain, from someone who played with you over and over again. 

but maybe if he was lying it would all make sense – the way he said he didn't want you and yet kept showing up, the jealousy and the conflict in his voice, all of it would have some sort of plausible reason, one that would mean that maybe he cared for you. 

"i don't want to do this anymore," you mumble, hands placed on his chest. you only push at him lightly, but he backs off all the way to the opposite wall, your words feeling like salt in his wounds. "i can't do this with you, haechan."

"y/n-"

"you have a show soon," you mumble, turning around to look in the mirror. you comb your hair with your fingers, trying to calm yourself down. behind you, haechan's eyes flash with frustration, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows drawn together as he looks up at your reflection. 

"i'm trying to talk to you." 

"are you?" it's a genuine question, and it makes him falter, a response half-formed on his lips. when it's clear he won't finish his thought, you close your eyes. 

"you need to go," you say again, quietly.  

"will you be there?" 

you don’t respond, and he repeats himself, urgently. 

"will you be there? at the show?" 

"i will," you say, hesitantly. 

"i'll see you then." his voice is controlled, and steady. somehow it feels like the calm before the storm. 

but before you can turn around to try to talk to him, persuade him to calm down, ask him what's wrong, he's already left the room, the sound of his heeled boots echoing down the hall. 

—

"is everything okay?" 

"why are they taking so long?" 

"are they late?" 

unease settles in the pit of your stomach as you stand in the crowd, the voices all around you whispering anxiously. it had been 15 minutes since the show was scheduled to start — but the lights on the stage were dim, and the pre-show playlist had just restarted for the second time. you had situated yourself on the left side of the stage, where jisung usually stood, and you bounced on your toes, hoping that everything was alright backstage so jisung could come out and see that you had kept your promise. 

and then there's a low rumble, as lights finally flood the venue, the crowd sighing with relief as jeno and mark appear – jeno waving at the crowd, his drumsticks in one hand, while mark smiles reassuringly, walking over to the mic and checking that it's at the correct height. he apologizes lightly for the delay, looking to the side of the stage nervously as he murmurs a quick introduction of the band into the mic.

haechan strides onto stage, electric guitar slung around his neck, as the crowd's screams reach an all-time high. he stops abruptly at the left side of the stage, right in front of where you stood, nodding at the crowd and cocking his head from side to side, as if preparing for a fight. he keeps his face level as his eyes find yours, that same burning intensity you felt in the dressing room unwavering as he held your gaze.

and then jisung appears, footsteps faltering where haechan stood, the grip on his bass going slack.

"haechan." jisung's voice is soft, you can barely hear it from where you stand so close to the stage. you can tell that the crowd behind has no clue what's going on, but some fans are looking at each other confusedly, pointing at the two boys, and the position on mark's left where haechan usually stood, now empty. 

"yes?" haechan's not looking at jisung, fingers running phantom chords up and down the fret board. 

"w-why are you standing here?" jisung whispered, embarrassment evident in his tone. "aren't you supposed to be on mark's left?" 

haechan's eyes briefly flick up to yours. "not today." 

distressed, jisung makes a sound. "haechan." guilt fills up your lungs like smoke, making it difficult to breathe, a twist in your chest as jisung looks over at you, lost. 

"run along, jisung," haechan murmurs, softly. "don't want to keep the fans waiting." 

mark, not wanting to draw attention to them, keeps smiling at the crowd, starting to ask them a few questions. jisung only tries a few more times, haechan resolutely ignoring him, before finally accepting defeat, casting his eyes over to you — his gaze wounded and confused, as he walks off with his bass. he assumes haechan's position, and the crowd cheers encouragingly. the boy manages a smile. 

when mark starts to introduce the first song, haechan finally looks up, a faint smile playing on his lips as his eyes lock with yours again. just like the day you met. 

and just like the day you met, you felt yourself fall under his spell, yet again. 

—

"haechan, i think we —" you gasp out, in between the kisses that haechan is pressing to your lips. 

he gives a non-committal hum, his legs framing your body as he holds you close to his chest. his lips are warm and soft, tasting slightly of cherries, as he opens you up little by little, chaste kisses turning into open-mouthed ones, his tongue darting out and gently licking into your mouth in a way that was intoxicating. 

you grip onto his arm harshly, trying to ground yourself, and he inhales sharply, breaking away. 

"haechan –" you pant. "we should-" 

but then he's kissing you again, smothering your words with his lips and his tongue. his hands rub at your lower back, guiding your movements as you shift against him, his hips grinding upwards almost lazily. 

"jisung, –" you start, but now he gives a groan, rumbling through his chest almost like a roar. slumped back against the car door, he glares at you, touching the corner of his wet mouth with his thumb.

"you did not just fucking say my bandmates name while you're on me." 

"we should apologize to jisung," your words come out in a rush. 

"for?" he catches the look on your face, and rolls his eyes. "fine," he mumbles. "i'll talk to him." leaning up towards you, he starts to pepper kisses down your jaw, sucking a little harder on the mark he had left before. "kiss me?" he mumbles, and you have to stop yourself from caving in. 

"haechan," you press on, as haechan licks boldly at your collarbone. "haechan –"

"keep saying my name," he murmurs, hands roaming up your shirt, teasing over the clasp of your bra. 

"mark, —" 

"fuck." breaking away agian, haechan tips his head back, lips stretched out and puffy as he tongued his cheek. "you want me jealous princess? is that it? because it's fucking working –" 

"haechan, we keep hurting people." you place both hands on his chest, trying to calm him down. 

"what?" 

"today we hurt mark too. although, i don't really know why–" you break off, thinking about how he looked as he tried to follow after you and haechan. how jisung's cheeks burned red as he walked across the stage. "haechan, they're your friends." 

"you wanna hurt jeno too?" he raises his eyebrows, his own hands now mindlessly scraping against yours. "you can lead him on, and then we can fuck while he watches. although he'll probably like that –" 

again, he takes in the way you frown. "fine. sorry. jeez." 

"i don't want to hurt people because of us," you say, softly. 

"well," he exhales. "they're only hurt because they can't have you, princess." he tucks your hair behind your ear from where its come loose. "there's nothing we can do, hm?"

you shake your head. "you're not being fair," you whisper. 

"how so?" his hands slide down. there's something possessive in the drag of his palms, the way he squeezes your waist. 

"you don't call me yours…but you also don't let them near me." your voice is small, but it rings loud in the silence of the car all the same. the streets outside were empty and deserted, and you think you can hear your heart beating in the still air as your palms stay pressed on his firm chest. "haechan…i need you to choose."  

it's a long time before haechan responds. he's tired from the show and all the adrenaline, you can feel it in his slow breathing, in the way his eyes blink slowly up at you like an afterthought. but his eyes are what give it away – his gaze is sharp and calculative as his eyes roam your body, his touches not quite as drowsy as he appears, fingers tingling against skin. 

you wait, your heart in your throat. you wait and you hope. 

his full lips part, his eyes meeting yours. 

"so…this is our last time together?" 

of course that's his choice. the disappointment spreads like cold, an ache deep in your bones. "if that's what you choose." your voice is flimsy. "haechan, —" but nothing leaves your mouth, just a wounded sound. everything rushing up inside you like a waves breaking over the shore, memories flooding your senses. 

the hurt on mark's face. haechan's hands on your skin. the blush that burned at jisung's skin as he watched haechan pull you to his car, his figure growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. haechan's lips against your ear as he held you. 

"shhh," his arms hold you against his chest, smoothing down your spine as he comforts you as if you were a baby, you clinging on tight to him as if he were going to disappear. "it's okay," he murmurs. "we'll just have to make it count, hm?" gently, he guides your face out of his chest, relieved when he realizes that you're not crying yet, at least. kissing your cheek gently, he brushes his thumb against the apples of your cheeks. "are you alright? do you want me to take you home?" 

"s-stop it." you manage to steady your breathing enough to repeat yourself. "stop being gentle with me, haechan. stop leading me on." 

"stop getting hurt," he replies, a little teasing, but his tone aches. 

"kiss me?" 

this time you do, letting him guide your movements, as he pulls you down into his body as if he were trying to pull you all the way through him. 

his kisses are slow and sweet, tilting his head almost shyly, the tip of his nose bumping against yours as he leans up into you. his tongue carefully slides over your bottom lip, before he's nudging your lips apart with his own again, tongue gently moving over yours, pulling away with a small smile when you chase after him, tongue stuck out slightly, chasing the warmth of his mouth. 

"cute," he mumbles, and you pull your shirt up over your head just so he won't see the way your cheeks burn in the dark. 

his movements become a little more urgent as he unclasps your bra, letting it slide to the floor of his car as he surges towards you. his lips begin to suck marks onto your chest, hands now squeezing your soft breasts, mapping your body indulgently. his tongue licks slowly around your right nipple, before giving it a gentle flick with his tongue, your body shifting restlessly against him as it sends a wave of arousal down to your core. he hugs you against him to steady your movements, lapping at your nipples and guiding each roll of your hips down into his. 

your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him away from you. before you can tell him to stop teasing, he's kissed you again — placating. sweet like he knew everything you were about to say, before you even said it. 

you raise your hips as his hands smooth over the pleats of your skirt, before flipping the soft material upwards. you hadn't worn anything special, not having the courage to, but the way he looked at your simple white panties, thumb running carefully over the pink bow in the middle of the waistband, made you feel warm all over. you hurry to pull them off, just to break the moment, but he catches them right before you tug them off your ankle. 

"can i keep these?" his doe-eyes blink up at you. you can see the brown in his irises, almost gold in the light. you nod, and he lets out a laugh, kissing you through his smile as his fingers wander up your thighs. 

he starts with slow circles on your clit, stroking the nub gently, feeling the way your hips shift at the feeling. when he speeds up his motions, fingers teasing along your slit and catching at your entrance a few times, your hips begin to pick up a steady rhythm, rocking into his hand. 

"do you just want to cum like this?" he asks kindly, placing a bit more pressure on the tips of his fingers. he wants to be inside you badly, his erection almost painful from the lack of contact, but he knew that it might do more for him than it did for you.

this was how he wanted you to be taken care of for your first time, for your second time — this is why he didn't want you to slip away from him into rooms with men who wouldn't know what you needed, wouldn't care what you wanted.

or at least — it's what he tells himself to keep him sane. 

"'m close," you mumble, your movements uncoordinated, neediness driving your hips into his hand, pleasure that you didn't quite know how to handle. "feels so empty, haechan, please –" 

he slows down his movements, a hand sliding over your waist to rub at your lower back, eliciting a warm sound from you that radiates into his chest. he slides a finger into your tight entrance, feeling the way you tense around him, slowly slipping the finger in and out, curling against your walls carefully. his thumb comes up to press your clit, and you inhale sharply as the pressure in your abdomen builds. 

"more…" 

"baby, you're doing so well," he praises. freckling careful kisses on your neck to distract you, you feel another finger catch against your entrance, his hand breaking its rhythm to carefully slide in, stretching your hole out even more. with a lewd suck on the base of your neck, he curls both fingers against your walls, a slick finger slipping on your clit, and you feel yourself crash headfirst into your high, thighs clamping around his hand in sensitivity as you moan. he murmurs praises against your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly between each one. 

he removes his hand from your core with a wet sound, and you drop down into his lap, feeling weak at the knees even though you weren't standing. he lets out a groan, feeling your wetness and warmth through his jeans, and he can feel his cock twitch under the fabric. but still, he waits until your breathing evens out, using his cleaner hand to stroke at your sides, humming lightly under his breath, the reassuring sound filling the car. his breaths sync with yours as you come down from your high, and together you let out a shaky exhale. 

"do you mind?" he asks, quietly, hands going to his belt slowly, trying not to startle you. "we don't have to have sex. i just really need to take care of this now…" you nod, flustered, crawling backwards down his legs, and he leans forward to kiss the crown of your hair. against the soft sounds of your breathing, the sound of him unbuckling his belt, letting it drop into the shadows, and the rustle of fabric as he tugged his jeans and underwear down as much as he could, were endlessly arousing. you felt yourself begin to pulse with need again, your thighs squeezing together when he pulls out his cock, thick and heavy against his palm, the tip blushy and leaking. 

he gives himself a tentative stroke, spreading pre-cum over his length before squeezing the base and hissing at the feeling as he tries to stop from cumming too soon. as if in a trance, you reach out towards him, your hand curiously wrapping around his shaft. he groans, low, as you give him a tentative stroke, although the sound is cut off by a high whimper when your fingers rub the head of his cock, silky under your fingertips. 

"baby, you don't have to –" he's cut off by another moan as you squeeze his length, applying more pressure as you stroke. "fuck, jus' like that," he mumbles, weakly, as you twist your wrist a little on a downstroke, palm slippery with pre-cum. after a few more strokes, watching haechan's head loll this way and that, twisting with pleasure, you pay more attention to his tip, thumbing just under it, fingers rubbing his slit. haechan's hips are restless, thrusting into your hand, his body shaking and the muscles on his abdomen clenched tight. you give him a few more strokes, and his whines fill up the car, raspy and sinful in a way that made you crave him even more. 

mimicking his movements, you slide your hand back down to his base and squeeze. he blinks hazily up at you, lips still parted, panting breathlessly. 

"baby…" 

"i need you," your voice feels broken, desire pulsing through each syllable. "please haechan," you add, as he swallows harshly, his cock twitching slightly against the warmth of your hand. 

pulling you towards him, he kisses you again, fingers wandering down to your heat and stroking your folds. "so wet from touching me, baby?" he teases, smiling against your lips as he slips a finger in, and then another, your walls sucking him in easily. he finds your soft spot immediately, your thighs shaking around his hand as you whine. it's a sound embarrassing to your own ears, but it's like music to haechan's ears, as he lets out a low groan. 

"it's too bad it's your last time with me," he murmurs, lightly, as he takes a condom out from the glove compartment, his hands moving swiftly as he tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. "i would love to record your pretty sounds…" your voice lets out another small whimper, as if proving him right, as he adjusts you on his lap so the head of his cock lines up with your entrance. slowly, you sink down on him, clutching onto his body for support as you feel him fill you up tightly. 

"breathe," he coaxes, letting his own head sink back against the seats, the hazy feeling of you wet and warm around him intensifying as you take all of him inside you. he continues on, trying to distract you by peppering gentle kisses all over your cheeks. "would you like to hear your voice in a song, sweetheart? all the girls in the crowd wondering who's pretty voice is on the track, wondering who's making her feel this good…" he hisses, when he feels you pulse around him. "you want that?" 

your lips part, stuttering out jumbles of half-sentences, yes-es and nos. "'m just teasing, baby," he coos, as he thrusts his hips upwards experimentally, bouncing you on his lap. you lean into his body, feeling muscle firm under your palms as you raise your hips and grind against him, sensitivity making your thighs shake as the movement stimulates your clit. 

responding to your need, his arm loops around your waist while his fingers wander towards your clit, stroking and rubbing it expertly as he continues to thrust up into you, the car jolting with his movements. his strong thighs tense as he moves, barely pulling out before stuffing himself into you again, your walls kneading his length in a way that makes his body feel hot with need, chasing his climax. your soft sounds each time his tip grazes your soft spot are an aphrodisiac, and he feels himself growing impossibly harder inside you, so aroused it almost hurts. 

"haechan, i'm cumming," you moan, and his fingers put more pressure on your clit, as you bounce on him, eager for release. 

"keep saying my name," he breathes, pulling you close, your bodies moving frantic and unsteady against each other, as you cum, mouthing his name against his skin. he empties himself into the condom soon after, hips still jolting as he helps you ride out the aftershocks of your climax, your breaths echoing loud in the car.

you almost wanted to ask for round 2 — and you were sure he would give it to you, if you had asked. instead you stay silent, feeling emptier than ever as he pulls out, your body draining of his warmth as he cleans you with wipes from his glove compartment, kissing you sweetly whenever your eyes met. the water bottle he procured from the passenger seat of the car making you wonder if this was his plan all along, as you sipped quietly, as he put your address in his phone to take you home. 

—

you can feel him slip away from you on the drive back. 

a sea of red and green lights move across the planes of his face as you watch him drive, one hand on the wheel and the other touching your hand softly on the centre console. you give his fingers a faint squeeze and he smiles, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your fingertips. 

when you reach the next intersection, he pulls his hand from yours and puts it back on the steering wheel. 

when he makes his next turn, his shoulders start to tense and the easy, relaxed expression on his face morphs into a stony one. 

and when he finally pulls up in front of your apartment building, turning to face you, the glowing streetlights illuminating the outlines of his face do nothing to soften the blow of seeing him like this again — looking at you with half-lidded eyes, almost lazy in his power. 

"are you coming to the next show?"  

"i want to," you respond, your voice small. "...should i?" 

"it doesn't really matter to me." his fingers tap against the wheel, restlessly. "i just hope you know you shouldn't wait around afterwards." 

you bite your lip. "i know." 

he nods. "so you know this is over?" 

"i know." 

"good girl." it feels like a punch to the stomach, and you inhale, sharply, hands gripping the handle of the car door. waiting for him to dismiss you, as he always did. 

but then he's speaking again, breaking the silence. his voice is softer, a little more hesitant – "do you need me to walk you up?" he's not looking at you, eyes trained on his dashboard. "will you be okay?" 

it's cruel, the way your heart stutters in your chest. you take one last look at him, trying to memorize everything — the sharp line of his jaw, his collarbones, the joints of his fingers, the way his pinky finger crooks slightly to the right. the faint smell of vanilla and something darker, mixed with his warmth. you try to memorize it because you're sure this is the last time you'll be so close to him again, both in proximity, and in the way his voice aches with something close to tenderness. in that moment, you know if you told him you needed him, he would turn off the engine and open your car door, holding you safe against his chest and walking you up to your apartment. but what for? for him to shut off on the way up the elevator, and turn into a stranger at your door? 

"it's fine," you murmur, and you don't wait for a response before stepping out into the warm night. 

—

your ribs press against the barrier, and you wince slightly. the crowd screams loud in your ear, as the boy in front of you looks up from his guitar at the crowd in front of him, dark gaze sliding over faces, tongue poking at his cheek and puffy lips stretched. 

his eyes briefly meet yours, and your heart skips a beat. 

and then he's looking back down at his guitar again, lips pursed in concentration. 

the next time he glances up, the familiar glint is back, eyebrows drawn together. there was something strange about the way he was looking at you, not exactly meeting your eyes. was he looking at your clothes? your hair? or… 

"oh my god!" 

you shoot a brief glance back, at the girl who's just let out a squeal. she claps her hands over her mouth, eyes shining as she stares adoringly at haechan, unblinking. you don't have to check to know he's staring right back — you know the look on her face a little too well. 

the disappointment and jealousy weighing on your chest is entirely unjustified, but you feel it heavy in your bones, anyway. 

he had meant every word: it was truly over. 

–

"did anyone see you?" 

"no," you whimper, as he mouths over the seat of your panties, tongue lapping at your folds through the fabric. 

"good girl," he pants, letting out a satisfied groan when he tugs them down your legs, burying his face in between your legs with a lewd moan. 

but if it was truly over, why did he find you after the show last week, – slipping by you to tell you to meet him in the upstairs master bedroom, where he fingered you open in front of the mirror?

if it was truly over, why did a stagehand stop you from leaving after the next show you went to, passing you a note that told you to wait at the back entrance of the venue? 

"fuck fuck fuck-"

and if it was truly over, why was he currently in between your spread legs, his mouth and chin covered with your juices as you lay on his bed?

"need you now, princess." his fingers brush your clit, and your thighs shake with overstimulation. "are you okay? i can wait-" 

"don't wait," you plead, pulling him towards you. he follows, propping himself up on his arms as his face reaches yours, his lips gently nudging your own apart, letting you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you. his sticky hands stroke your sides, leaving trails on your skin. "haechan –" 

he interrupts you with another kiss. freckling more kisses down your neck, he smiles against the mark he left days ago, fading slightly now. "i missed this," he murmurs, and your heart stings, a collection of memories surfacing in your mind – of his eyes avoiding yours at shows. of him waiting onstage for someone else. of him smiling at you cordially, face blank as if he were greeting you for the first time when he talked to you in front of other fans. 

"did you really?" 

he doesn't respond, latching his lips to your skin with a hum, hands cupping your breasts in one swift motion, fingers teasing over your nipples and making your body arch into his touch. 

"haechan…"  

"what do you want, princess?" he wanders lower, licking at your cleavage. your mind threatens to blank when he circles a fingertip around your areola, puffy wet lips closing around a nipple and sucking wetly. "hm?" 

"want you to fuck me…" your voice is shaky, but you press on. "like how you were gonna fuck that girl."  

his hands still for just a brief second. you can see your words hit him, understanding and lust flickering in his responding laugh. he focuses his eyes back on your face, hands now coming up to brush your lips, caressing your cheek, smoothing over your skin almost lovingly.

this is how he was going to fuck her? 

"open up," he murmurs, fingers pressed to your bottom lip. as if stuck in a trance, your lips part. 

a wet mess of saliva, still mixed with traces of your arousal, drips down from his tongue into your mouth, connecting your lips with his in a glossy sheen. his lips tug into a smile as he sees your blown-out pupils, arousal completely overriding his every thought. 

his fingers trace your jaw. "swallow," he commands, sweetly, and as always you do exactly as he says. 

you feel something shift against your upper thigh, your hips rising on instinct to buck against his hard length, still trapped behind his ripped jeans. 

his low groan is interrupted by a sharp rattling of the doorknob, followed by a thud against the door. both of you still, eyes focused on the locked door, straining your ears to hear the voices outside. 

"are you sure no one saw you?" haechan asks, quietly. "did jisung see you? mark? jeno?"

"i don't think so," you mumble. 

that was the arrangement you had come up with a little over a week ago, discussed in heated kisses and bliss-induced haze. you could keep seeing haechan, as long as you never saw the rest of the band again. on nights when he knew he wanted you, you would slip through crowds like a ghost to make your way into warm beds and cold bathrooms, saving him from the jealousy, and saving you from the questions. 

of course, there were a few nights where no message would find you, where he wouldn't grab your wrist as you brushed past him in a hallway, his hands distracted with someone else. those nights used to make you cry, your entire being aching for his attention, his indifference just as bruising as his care. 

the doorknob rattles again, and there's a knock on the door. 

"haechan? are you in there?" 

mark's voice. 

"they're back early from the party," haechan mumbled. to your shock, he ignores them and tugs off his shirt roughly, revealing delicate tanned skin dotted with moles, looking soft-to-touch. 

"haechan," mark's voice is exasperated. "i thought we agreed not to bring girls to our apartment." 

haechan rolls his eyes as his hands go to his belt, ridding himself of his pants and underwear. you can see the muscles in his thighs tense as he makes his way up the bed, hands holding your hips.

"you wanted me to fuck you like the other girls?" he murmurs, low so only you can hear. "well. on your knees." 

"but mark is –" you break off, seeing the way his eyes narrow, something dangerous flickering in his pupils. "but…but they're outside," you whisper. as if to prove your point, mark bangs on the door again. 

and then jisung's voice, low and urgent comes through the door. "who is he even with? the girl he left the show with was alone when i saw her."

"god, are they all outside the door?" haechan grumbles, focusing his attention back on you when you let out a small sound of distress. "forget about them," he soothes, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. his mouth moves over yours searingly, possessive and all-consuming in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth. "on your knees," he commands, quietly, against your mouth. "i won't ask again." 

a thrill runs down your spine as you flip over, his large hands adjusting you so your back arches, head pressed into the pillows as he holds your hips up. he presses a kiss to your back as he reaches off the bed for a condom, rolling it onto his hard length with a soft groan. you look over your shoulder, see him stroking himself, mouth hanging open. 

"hurry," you plead. you can feel slick on your thighs from the way he ate you out earlier, growing wetter from anticipation. "please." 

he ignores you. "can you be quiet for me?" he mumbles. outside, you can hear the boys discussing something heatedly, voices low so you can't make out the words. "don't want anyone else to hear you."

"yes," you promise, meekly. 

"good girl." he lines himself up to your entrance, reaching around to rub your clit as he runs the tip of his cock against your folds. you let out a shaky breath at the feeling, trying hard not to let it catch your vocal cords. 

one hand on your hip and the other stroking your lower back, he pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to his girth. you feel a sting as he stretches your walls, filling you up deeply while burying himself inside you. he murmurs for you to relax, listening to you take shallow breaths, the way your hole flutters around his length making him want to thrust forward, relieve his own ache. 

"haechan, are you asleep?" 

there's a sharp rap on the door, and haechan curses as it makes you tighten around him, gummy walls gripping him like a vice, as if begging for his cum. 

"you liked that, baby?" his voice is low, and mocking. you whimper. "you like the idea of them coming in and seeing you like this? letting me take you like a slut?" 

"haechan, we know you're in there." now it's jeno's rough voice, devoid of its usual warmth. "we saw the shoes at the door. we need to talk." 

haechan pulls out until only his tip is still inside you, and slams back in aggressively, filling you to the brim. he starts to build a rhythm, thrusting deep and slow inside you, letting you feel the drag of him against your walls as he strokes your clit with his fingers. he was taking his time with you — pausing to lean forward and press kisses to your shoulders, mouthing messily over your skin. 

"haechan, please -" you try to keep your voice quiet, but he chooses this time to fuck you a little harder, picking up the pace, and your mouth hangs open as your aborted whimpers turn into drawn out moans.  

"hm?" he prompts, faking nonchalance. but you can feel that the pace is affecting him too, his breathing growing heavier as he speeds up a little more. 

"harder," you mumble, words feeling thick and slow in your mouth. "faster. fuck," 

a bang on the door. the loud sound makes you jolt, and haechan hisses as you clench down on him harshly again, your thighs inching closer together, creating a tighter fit around his thick cock. 

"i wonder why they're not coming in yet." his voice in your ear is low, sultry. the kind he uses on-stage when he's teasing the crowd. 

"i-isn't the door l-locked?" 

"sure…but it's a really old lock. i know mark could open it if he really wanted to. he's done it before when i'm late for rehearsals, ah fuck-" he's slamming himself into you, barely pulling out before pushing in again, wet sounds filling the room. "fuck, you must really like that. how do you just keep getting tighter and tighter, hm?" 

"haech–" 

"maybe i'll ask them to come in…" he muses, his tone sickly sweet. "i just know you'll cum hard on my cock when they open the door, right? let them see how filthy you are?" 

"don't –", you choke. 

"should i tell them not to come in?" 

"no," you gasp, and he laughs, darkly. 

"no, i should tell them to come in?" he asks between breathless pants, pace unrelenting as the lewd sound of skin against skin fills the room. "you want me to talk to them baby?" 

you let out an incoherent mumble, no longer sure of anything. 

he coos at that. "dumb already, princess?" his hand wanders up to your chest, blunt nails haphazardly scraping across your nipples. your hips push back onto him instinctively, fucking yourself onto his length, your hips chasing pleasure from the sensitivity as you cum. 

"haechan, i'm not leaving until you open the door." another thud, as mark sits down. 

"fuck…" haechan's only half listening to mark as he throws his head back, murmuring curses as he feels you clench around him, milking his cock. it takes all the self control he has to place his hands on your waist, stilling your movements as he pulls out of you. he's so hard that it hurts, and he knows his release is close, but he still shifts your body until you're lying on your back, and he can see your tear-streaked face, drool smeared all over your chin. 

you mouth his name soundlessly, fresh waves of tears gathering on your waterline as you see him move away from you, and you try to sit up to keep him in your line of sight. 

"haechan, –" 

"i'm here," he murmurs, one hand immediately finding yours and squeezing, the other grappling for the water bottle on the bedside table. he unscrews the cap with one hand as he moves towards you, helping you prop yourself up against the headboard. "drink." 

he holds the bottle up to your lips, but you shake your head. "want you," you whisper, even though your mouth feels warm and sticky, your throat dry from moaning. you can't focus on anything except for the emptiness inside you, your clit throbbing whenever you shift your thighs together slightly. you're focused on his hard length, the slope of his shoulders down to his slender waist. you shake your head again, knocking the bottle against your lips and spilling a little bit of the water onto the sheets. 

"don't be a brat." his voice is low, a dangerous sort of patience in his tone. "drink, or i won't give you what you want." 

you swallow, his voice washing over you, pulling you under. this time when he raises the bottle to your lips, you hold it with shaky hands, letting water trickle down your throat. his own hand comes up, touching two fingers to your neck gently, making sure you were drinking instead of pretending by feeling for the movement of your throat.  

"done?" he watches you lick your parted lips, dewy with water and saliva, and takes the bottle from you, placing it back on the stand. "do you want to keep going?" 

you nod, slowly. 

"use your words," he commands, quietly. 

"please don't stop," you plead, shuffling towards him. it feels like the fog has cleared slightly in your head, the water making the heat haze dissipate. vaguely, you're sure that mark, jisung, and jeno must know what you were doing – must have heard the headboard thumping against the wall, haechan's low groans and your breathless whimpers. 

you wonder what mark is thinking now, outside, not leaving and yet not breaking in like haechan said he could. it sends a wave of arousal down to your core, some part of you wanting him to see the way you break for haechan, completely and wholly his. your way of rejecting him without having to see his face – your way of explaining why you ignored him whenever he caught your eyes during shows and after-parties. 

haechan reads you easily, observing the way your eyes flicker to the door. he's torn between opening the door himself — letting mark see you on his bed, fucked stupid by him, or stepping outside and telling mark to leave because no one should see or hear you like this but him. 

"do you want me to tell mark to leave?" 

"n-no," you hesitate. "don't."

he raises his eyebrows. "why?" 

"w-want him to know that i'm yours," you mumble, a hand wrapping around his thigh and squeezing. 

haechan's eyes darken. “mine?” he echoes, quietly, almost gently.

you're so focused on the shift in his features – the set of his jaw, the way he tenses, that you barely notice he's sliding off the bed and picking you up effortlessly so that you cling to his upper body, legs gripping his waist. his lip curls into a smile, head tilted mockingly as he starts to walk, strong arms holding you up.

your back hits solid wood, and you gasp. 

"haechan?" mark's voice is crystal clear on the other side of the door. 

haechan adjusts his grip, pushing you against the door as he slides his tip along your dripping cunt, making you squirm in his hold. 

"be good, hm?" he whispers, as he pushes into you, eyes squeezing shut and jaw dropping open at the feeling of your walls sucking him back in, pulsing along his length and making his cock throb. when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, and you can see that this situation is heightening his arousal, causing his thrusts to be sloppy and unfocused as he chases his own high. each time he pushes into you, the weight of his hips snapping against yours pushes against the door, and you hear it jolt a little, the lock jiggling.

mark's shouted expletive rings against your ears, mirrored by haechan's own as he captures your lips in a kiss. the feeling is familiar and new at the same time, his tongue sliding languidly over yours, swiping against your bottom lip. at the sight of your parted mouth and wet lips, he moans again, and without hesitating he spits into your waiting mouth, sloppy and messy, causing it to dribble past your lips and down your chin. 

the rhythm against the door is unmistakable, and you can hear footsteps as mark runs off. haechan laughs, a pleased hum in his chest that vibrates against your own as he leans into you, and he mouths down your neck, biting at your shoulder and letting his low groan scrape against his throat as a growl. you cum when your stiff nipples brush against his chest, the tiny bit of stimulation just enough to throw you over the edge into your orgasm, your thighs clenching around him as you sob, your core aching. 

the feeling of your walls rippling around his length is too much to bear, and he barely lets you ride out your orgasm on him before he's pulling out of you and carrying you back to his bed. haechan tugs off the condom urgently as you lie there, tired and spent, watching as he strokes his length, fast, eyes fluttering open and shut with lust, his hips thrusting forward uncontrollably. his thumb ghosts just under the head of his cock, and then he's cumming all over your stomach and chest, sticky white spurts pooling on your skin. 

you watch him out of half-lidded eyes as his breathing slows, collapsing next to you in a heap. the high from the sex hasn't faded yet – the consequences of being heard by all his bandmates hasn't hit you, as you bask in the temporary glow of being his. 

a finger traces along the cum on your stomach, haechan transfixed by the sight. curious, your hands grab for the small mirror on his bedside table, and he comes out of his daze, handing it to you wordlessly. 

in the moonlight, the marks he's made on your skin blur with the shadows. no part of you looks untouched — your tear-streaked face and kiss-swollen lips, bruises on your hips and the sting of the bite mark on your shoulder. your hands tremble a little as you focus the mirror on where his fingers play with his drying cum on your skin, tracing lines and curves. 

"'m yours," you mumble out. 

"yeah?" he chokes. "mine?" 

dazedly, you point to your neck. "yours." 

he groans, just watching you, eyes roving over your body. "you're beautiful," he whispers. you think he means it.

"more." your voice is quiet. 

"no more, baby," he murmurs, looking up at you with concern. "it's too much for you." 

you shake your head. "these could be from anyone," you point at the marks on your neck. his body tenses, hands stiff on your skin. "i want to be yours." 

slowly, your words settle over him. he looks at you with an unreadable expression, the kind you see right before he strikes his first chord, the moment his eyes find yours in the crowd. a dark sort of determination, in the way his holds your gaze. 

he reaches over, and opens a drawer. you can hear the sound of things knocking around inside as he roots his hand around, finally emerging with an eyeliner pen. through the mirror, you can see his hands splayed out over the space just under your breasts, pulling the skin over your ribcage taut. his tongue pokes out into the lower corner of his mouth as he places the tip of the pen to your skin. 

he loops once. skids the pen downwards. jerks it up harshly, ending off with jagged motions, each brush trailing ink on your skin. 

when he's done he leans backwards, raising his eyebrows, asking you wordlessly if this was finally enough. his signature on your body, next to the bruises and marks and last remnants of his cum on your skin. 

—

"haechan?" 

he doesn't respond, but a part of you expects it already – you've memorized the way he leaves. 

"why didn't you fuck that girl tonight?" 

he takes his time, taking a long sip from his bottle of wine. from where you lie on the bed, you can just see the broad frame of his back, his side profile as he looks out of the window and at the moon, bright in the sky, the milky glow illuminating his skin. without his makeup, he looked like just a boy – pretty features almost dainty on his face. it's his hands which break the facade, calloused and rough, with veins that make your head spin when you think about them for too long, holding the bottle up to his lips. 

"didn't feel like it." 

you think about his answer, blinking slowly from the sleepiness. "why did you fuck me?" 

he faces forward, away from you. "felt like it."  

"why?" 

"i'm beginning to question that too," he replies, bluntly.

hurt aches in your bones, as silence rings loud in your ears. "if you don't want me here i can just go," you say, softly, and you're sure your voice sounds as wounded as you feel. "you've cleaned me up. i can leave if you want." 

you can see him stiffen, his shoulders tensing up. 

"where's jaemin?" 

of course. sitting up, you wince at the ache between your legs. "he's probably asleep," you answer, bitterly. "but i can just call a cab –"

his back muscles tense, and then he's shifting from where he sits on the edge of the bed. sliding into the space next to you, he rests back against the headboard, legs stretched out over the sheets. a hand wraps around yours. 

"ask me easier questions," he mumbles, turning your palm over so he can lace your fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze. 

your breath stutters. 

"what did you talk about? with the band?" 

after cleaning you up and tucking you into bed, haechan had finally stalked out of the bedroom to talk to mark, jisung and jeno. he hadn't said a thing when he returned, holding a bottle of wine, placing it on the bedside table before stepping into the bathroom wordlessly to remove his makeup. 

haechan blinks down slowly at your intertwined hands. "they asked me what was going on." 

"what?" 

"i've been losing focus," he mumbles. "during shows and during rehearsal. and jeno noticed i kept ditching girls at parties, said it wasn't like me to not be fucking around at all." 

a beat. 

you bite your lip. "you're…you're losing focus?" 

but he just shakes his head. "they're wrong." 

you can see that the topic is upsetting him, so you rush to ask another question. "do you write any of the songs that the band play?" 

he raises his eyebrows. "so you care so much about the band now? does that mean you're a fan?" 

he ignores your mumbled excuse, squeezing your hand again to let you know he was teasing. "mark usually writes the songs," he answers. "i don't have much to write about." and then, with a little more force, "ask me questions about me, not the band."

"what does this tattoo mean?" you place the tip of your finger just below his ribcage, where there's a small doodle of a bear paw. 

"people say i look like a bear," he mumbles, a little shy. even in the moonlight, his pouty lips and round cheeks are evident, his shoulders broad as he slumps against the headboard. 

"i see it," you confirm, and a smile flickers on his face. 

"yeah?" he looks over at you, and his free arm loops around your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. his affection buzzes in your veins, as you try to divert his attention with another question. 

"and what does this tattoo mean?" your other hand comes up again, now to trace at the sunflower peeking out from the base of his neck, trailing down to his shoulder. 

he takes a deep breath. "my sister picked it." 

"sister?" 

"baby sister," he adds, softly. "she just turned six. this is her favorite flower." 

"oh." 

"why?" he tilts his head, bumping your own gently. "do i not seem like an older brother?" 

"i think…" you hum, contemplating. "not when you're onstage," you decide.

"do you think i'm different? from when i'm onstage?" 

"i don't know you enough to judge," you say, truthfully. aside from the sex, and from the brief moments right after when it felt like he was truly there, holding you, the haechan you knew was mostly the one flooded with stage lights, the kind of boy you had to beg to earn his attention. 

haechan goes quiet, his hand on yours stilling, and you turn to look at him. tension is filling up the room, slow and thick like a fog, and you can't breathe against the weight of everything — the weight of his gaze, the almost boyish way his eyes flick down to your lips and back up to meet yours. 

"do you want to?" 

you bite your lip. 

maybe two weeks ago your heart would have leapt, maybe you would have begged for the opportunity to have him closer. 

but your body has already had time to learn disappointment, to defend yourself against his callousness and his cold, learning the art of slipping in and out of intimacies. every line crossed, every boundary blurred. 

"do i want to?" you echo, and you see him falter. 

maybe his own words held more weight than he'd anticipated. 

"you don't?" 

or maybe he was just scared to hear your answer. 

"will you let me?" you reflect the question back to him. his fingers twitch against your shoulder where he's still holding you.

there were some nights where it felt as if he was taking his adrenaline out on your body, or where he was making you forget the fear of being caught by overriding your senses with pleasure. there were others when you fell so deep into a headspace, that he would care for you gently, something romantic and tender in the negative space between your bodies. 

and ultimately all of these nights ended the same – the same curl of his lip, his face closed-off, his voice too steady and unfeeling.

"how would you let me know you?" it's only when he flinches when you catch the harshness to your tone, your own words leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. "by barely letting things slip every night?" 

"y/n…" it's not meant as a warning. your name is spoken softly, with an ache in it that makes goosebumps rise up your arms. "i thought you were fine." 

"i am," you insist, feeling defensive. "i'm fine with you pretending you don't know me, or when you disappear on the drive home." 

"y/n, –" 

"just…don't say things if you don't mean them," you finish, mumbling your words to mute the hurt in them. 

there's a long silence. 

and then, his voice, so delicate and fragile, like he was afraid his words would bruise the space between him and you. 

"we're playing at a bar this friday." 

you make a sound of confusion, and he continues on. "it's only for a few fans who won some sort of a lucky draw. they get to talk to us and get autographs." 

"i didn't enter," you cut in, but still he continues on, as if he was trying to get the words out before he lost his nerve.

"i'm inviting you now. and….and afterwards i'll leave with you and we can go to my place." he swallows. "my real apartment. not this one i share with the band." he lets out a shaky breath. "i don't… i don't usually bring girls there, if you can't tell."  

"but…" the wheels in your head are turning slowly, as you try to catch up with what he's saying. "but if i'm there… and it's such a small crowd…the band is going to see that i'm there. 

"they will," he confirms quietly. 

"they're going to know you invited me. because i'm not a fan." 

his lips twitch. "but you like me, no?" 

"i do," you concede, absentmindedly. "but i thought you said…the band…" 

"i don't think i really care about that anymore." his thumb dips low, brushing over the space under your ribs where his name is temporarily tattooed against your skin. "i…" he hesitates, before his thumb swipes against your skin again, and he takes a deep breath. "i told them about you. just now." 

you feel like you're falling – a sense of vertigo making your head spin.

"what did you say?" 

"just that…there was a you," he finished, lamely. "that we see each other more, but it's nothing." his hand squeezes yours, a gentle pulse. "nothing yet, anyway."

"i'll take it," you murmur, holding his hand clasped in both of yours and kissing him lightly on his fingertips. his face crumples, his chest caving in on itself with the weight of the tenderness he feels for you in that moment, and he leans in, tilting his head, eyes fluttering closed. 

he kisses you like it's a promise, close-lipped and earnest. it feels almost like the two of you are finally on even ground. 

— 

"what are you trying to do?" 

you jump, as the light in the small kitchenette flicks on. dirty dishes pile up in the sink, mugs scattered over the countertop, and the boy leaning against the fridge focuses his gaze on you. his voice is gentle, a mellow sort of sweetness undercut by the deepness of his voice. not in the way jisung's was deep, but a bass to it that gave it authority, one that the boy seldom had to use. 

"what do you mean?" 

jeno tilts his head. "y/n, do you know why haechan likes to fuck girls after his shows?" 

the sweetness on your tongue from haechan's kiss decays into bitterness. 

jeno doesn't seem to care. "he gets high off the feeling of the crowd. it's something he doesn't want to let go of, so he finds someone who adores him and makes them prove it." his eyes bore into yours, unblinking. "he doesn't care who he's with, y/n. he just likes the way they sound, screaming his name." 

"but why doesn't-" you choke. it  feels almost like you're betraying him. "why doesn't he date?" 

jeno raises his eyebrows, and you feel pathetic. it’s a long time before he finally answers.

"all the girls are only after the version of him onstage. it's him they like, and haechan's just extending the performance. would you want to date someone who only liked one side of you?"

"but i don't just like that side of haechan," you protest, weakly. even then, you don't know what other sides you're alluding to — was it his gentleness with you? how he always held you after? the one who let his baby sister pick his tattoos?

"y/n?" 

a soft voice sounds out from the corridor leading off into the bedrooms. sleep-ridden syllables mumbling out into the still air, calling your name. 

"where are you? is everything okay?"

jeno's looking at you with someone like pity in his eyes, the way your body turns towards his voice like an instinct. "haechan isn't even his real name, did you know that?" 

he crosses over to you, and places his mug into the sink behind your back. "try not to get too loud," he murmurs. "we're all tired." 

and as haechan pulls you into his warm embrace, palms wandering over your skin, you bite your tongue and keep as quiet as possible.

—

haechan's head snaps up as he sees the door swing open again and more girls wander into the bar. there are excited squeals and shouts as they spot the band, he can hear mark's warm laugh and see jisung's wave out of his peripheral vision. behind him, jeno's methodically checking on his drum kit, and haechan can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, as if he knew. 

his eyes scan the crowd again, praying he was wrong. but deep down he knows he would recognise your voice anywhere, be able to spot your features even in total darkness. 

and right now, you weren't there at all. 

his body goes on autopilot, muscle memory kicking in as he plays the chords, does his solos, nods along to the music. the crowd is frenetic, watching the way his eyebrows are drawn together, tonguing at his cheek, his lips downturned — the anger tense in his body making them whisper to themselves, wondering why this was part of his performance today. he keeps his expression slack as he signs autographs, nodding curtly towards fans as they bid him goodbye timidly, intimidated by his stormy gaze. 

he doesn't understand why it makes his insides twist, each time he searches the crowd and darts his eyes back to his guitar. maybe he'd just gotten used to seeing you front row at his shows. maybe that was all this was — and you were a bad habit he should have broken. 

it's what he tells himself as he lets his hands brush against the girl's as she holds her poster out to him, smiling a close-lipped smile, eyes dragging up and down his body excitedly. he lets her think it's a part of the performance, as he rails her in the bathroom of the bar, his eyes squeezed shut as she moans his name into the sink, trying to ignore the way her body didn't react at all like yours did, that his hands couldn't find purchase on her skin at all, and her voice made him want to crawl out of his skin. 

you were a bad habit he should break — at least that's what he tells himself to keep him sane.

-> part 2 here!

taglist: @neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @simpforarmihn @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @smwhrinthehaze (sorry there were q a few i couldn't tag!)

[slasherhaven]

Can I get some angst with Thomas where in the beginning of their time together when reader is still pretty unsure about Hewitts and their situation with them, Hoyt sees reader and Thomas start to become friendly and he starts telling the reader that Thomas is like the other Hewitt men and is only being nice to the reader to lower their guard and assault them. While reader doesn’t fully believe it, they do start to not spend as much alone time with Thomas just to be safe. Then one day Thomas catches Hoyt in the act and confronts him.

Warnings: illusions to rape and sexual assault (no assault actually happens or has happened to the reader), Hoyt being a creep, illusions to cannibalism

Hoyt trying to convince you that Thomas Hewitt is only planning on taking advantage of you:

Ever since 'joining' the Hewitt family and becoming somewhat trusted within the walls of their home, you had been given your fair share of chores. As they had put it, everyone had to pull their weight. You never understood why they didn't just kill you, why they let you live, but you never felt thankful for it. What were you other than a hostage and a maid?

You were working through your list of chores, being halfway through cleaning the kitchen, when Hoyt walked in. You did your best to ignore his presence, as you usually did, but he never made it easy. No Hewitt made you feel as uncomfortable and on edge as Hoyt did.

"Tommy's took a shine to ya" Hoyt commented, not being deterred when you ignored him, "get real friendly, you two."

You just shrugged, not wanting to properly engage with the man. He wasn't wrong about you having been spending some time with Thomas.

The adjustment to your new life wasn't easy, it still isn't, but you had accepted it and accepted that you weren't leaving any time soon. After accepting that fact, you tried to make it as bearable as possible. You tried to get along with people, to become a valuable member to the household.

Luda May became kinder as you accepted your fate and started putting effort into being a part of the family, into making yourself useful and polite. Monty was as unwelcoming as ever, only growing more bossy with you about your chores. And Hoyt, well Hoyt was just as threatening towards you as he had always been.

Thomas had been an intimidating member of the family, and you had admittedly been afraid of him, but as you spent more time in the household you realised that he was different to the other men. He was quiet, kept to himself, always gave you space as if he was worried about making you uncomfortable, while nobody else seemed to care about that stuff. He was easier to grow close too since he gave you the space to do so, even if that hadn't been his intention, and now you found yourself spending more time with Thomas than any other member of the family.

Still, that didn't mean that you had completely become use to your new life.

"Can't believe you're fallin' for it" Hoyt chuckled to himself.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment before turning to him. He wanted attention, a reaction. "What do you mean?" you hoped that if you have him what he wanted, you would leave you alone sooner.

"Tommy's little shy act. You can't tell me you're buying it" Hoyt continued, a spark igniting in his eyes now that he had you listening to him. "He might act all nice and timid around ya but he's still a Hewitt man, he ain't all that different to us" he informed you.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, growing impatient and more uncomfortable by the second. Especially when he walked up to you.

"He isn't immune to some pretty little thing that comes around here" he told you, reaching out to caress your cheek. You instantly cringed away from his touch and stepped back, away from him. "He only wants the same thing from you that I do. That any man would" he followed you, stepping towards you with every step you took away from him.

"You're lying" you shook your head, not believing that Thomas was anything like his relative.

"You think you're the first?" Hoyt scoffed, making you frown as your back made contact with the kitchen counter. Blocking any escape from Hoyt. "You ain't the first nice piece of ass to come around here, you ain't the first thing to catch Thomas' eye. He ain't no better than me, he's just convinced you he is. He's just getting ya to trust him, to let your guard down, to willing be alone with him and unsuspecting. He's waiting for ya to make yourself an easy target, probably take ya down in that basement, the screaming gets muffled down there...you're just too naïve to see it" by the time Hoyt was finished with his warning, he was looming over you, his face far too close to yours. You could smell the alcohol and smoke on his breath, causing you to turn your face away from him.

"You'll see soon enough, Sweetheart" he assured you with a sadistic smirk, squeezing your shoulder in a mock-friendly manner before turning and leaving.

Once you were alone in the room again, you let out a breath and dragged your hands through your hair before trying to focus your attention on your chores again. If you could finish cleaning you could hide away in your room for a while.

Could Hoyt be telling the truth, could Thomas have the same intentions as him? You couldn't believe it, you didn't want to believe it. Of course Thomas had done terrible things, unforgivable things, but ever since it was decided that you would be staying with them he hadn't so much as threatened you. He just...didn't seem like the type. Though you supposed people said that about plenty of disgusting people...were you just being naïve? Did Thomas just want to hurt you for his own gratification?

A few days passed and Hoyt's words hadn't been forgotten. You didn't fully believe them, you couldn't, but you had become more cautious around Thomas. Putting more distance between you both than you usually would, tensing slightly when he got a little too close, noticing his glances, catching him staring. You used to think he was just socially awkward and trying to figure out the best way to approach things, not used to having other people around, but now you wondered if something more sinister was going on in his mind.

Now when you were left alone in a room with him, you became uncomfortable. Luda May had asked you to fetch him from the basement and you froze at the top of the steps, remembering Hoyt's words.

The screaming gets muffled down there.

So, you had shouted down, hearing the panic in your own voice, before scurrying back to the kitchen.

Of course Thomas had noticed your behaviour and it confused him. If this was how you acted from the beginning, he would understand, you had every right to be terrified of him. However you had apparently become somewhat comfortable around him, even being friendly towards him, and now you were so clearly avoiding him and seeming uncomfortable in his presence.

He spent too much time trying to think of a reason for your change in behaviour. Had he done something to upset or offend you, had he done something to scare you? Thomas couldn't recall anything out of the usual. Just that one minute you were as comfortable as you could be, considering your situation, around him and the next you seemed afraid of him again.

It hurt. Thomas knew he had no right to be hurt by you, you should be afraid of him, you should hate him after everything you had experienced at the hands of his family but it hurt him.

Thomas was making his usual journey down to the basement, passing by the lounge door. From that door, he heard Hoyt's voice and something about his words made him pause. Normally he wouldn't care for what he was discussing, most likely with Monty, but what he heard just seemed...strange.

"He might be quiet but his mind is loud, just like mine, just like Monty's" Hoyt's voice taunted, making Thomas frown, confused as to what he was talking about and who he was talking too.

"Do ya think he's having innocent thoughts when he's watching ya? Do ya think he's sweet on ya or something? He only wants one thing and he's gonna get it. Ain't seen many people able to fight him off" Hoyt continued as Thomas inched closer to the lounge door, peering into the room to not be seen.

"Stop it" you begged, wrapping your arms around yourself and shaking your head at Hoyt's words.

"Stop what?...Telling you the truth? It's hard to hear, isn't it?" Hoyt laughed, mocking you. "I've told ya, he just wants to use ya and once you're all used up, he''ll get rid of ya" Thomas was disgusted by Hoyts words but even more disgusted by the implications. Was he really telling you that Thomas meant you harm, that he was going to...use you?

"You meant it...there were...others?" you asked, seeming to finally give in to Hoyt's taunting. Thomas felt like he had just received a punch to the gut, were you believing Hoyt's threats, his lies? He couldn't even blame you for it...

"Oh, plenty" Hoyt nodded. "We don't put them in the stews though, they're dirty. Ain't in no state to go in once Tommy is done with them" he explained, a smirk tugging at his lips when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

You could only watch the man through watery eyes, horrified by what he was telling you. Was this the truth? Was that your fate? All you knew was that you would try to avoid such a fate for as long as you could, maybe Thomas wasn't the friend you had needed in this place.

By that point, Thomas had heard more than enough. The door slammed against the wall, making you flinch, as he entered the room.

"Thomas, there you are, boy. I was-" Hoyt didn't have time to finish his sentence, he fell silent as Thomas was already standing inches away from him, looming over the older man with a hard glare. His silent warning more than clear.

"What's got you all worked up?" Hoyt huffed, but even you noticed the way he backed down.

Thomas pointed at Hoyt and then at you, telling him exactly what had angered him.

"They're a nuisance, I keep telling you that" Hoyt rolled his eyes, apparently he didn't know why they had decided to keep you around either.

Not wanting to hear another word from Hoyt, Thomas turned to you. Instinctively, you took a step back. If he wasn't so furious, Thomas would have been more sensitive towards your obvious fear but he wasn't thinking straight.

A large hand clasped your shoulder, the grasp firm, as he escorted you out of the room.

"Looks like your time is up, Sweetheart" Hoyt chuckled to himself, warning you of your apparent impending doom. The way Thomas' fingers flexed and dug into your shoulder wasn't easing your mind at all.

As Thomas opened the basement door, you forgot how you breath. No, you forgot how to breath when he locked the door, the clicking sound ringing in your ears.

Without removing his grip, Thomas guided you down the stairs, making sure to keep you on your feet when you stumbled over the steps and your own feet.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he led you over to a table and finally released you. Though, breathing didn't become any easier.

"Please, Thomas. You don't have to do this" you pleaded, tears wetting your cheeks and blurring your vision.

You were barely even conscious of him scribbling something down in a notepad and holding it out to you. As he pushed the notepad towards you, you slowly came to your senses. He was trying to tell you something.

After wiping the tears from your eyes, though it didn't stop them from falling, you took the notepad. As your vision came into focus, you could read the words on the page.

'I have never. I would never' the handwriting was messy and the spelling imperfect but you could read it.

"Would never what?" you asked with a sniffle.

Cautiously, Thomas took back the notepad. You slowly began to calm down as you watched him write something else down. This time he left the notebook flat on the table, moving to the side so you could see it.

'I would never hurt you. I am not like him'

"He said...he said you've...that you've raped people...down here" you could barely even form the words, not wanting to voice them, to make them a reality. You could see that Thomas looked genuinely disgusted by the claim.

Turning his attention back to the notepad, he wrote, 'I would never do that'. He looked back at you and looked almost embarrassed for a moment before continuing to write, 'I haven't been with anyone'.

His response seemed honest, either that or he was a master manipulator. 'Hoyt wants you to be scared. I'm sorry he did that' you watched as he messily wrote across the page before taking a moment to think.

Of course Hoyt was lying. He was threatening you, trying to make you scared, to turn you against Thomas because you were practically under his protection these days. Hoyt wanted you to feel afraid and isolated...god, you were so stupid to believe him.

Thomas didn't think you were foolish in the slightest, however. Of course you were afraid, of course you would believe everything anyone said in order to protect yourself.

Feeling overwhelmed by the previous horror and sudden relief, fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. Thomas wanted nothing more than to comfort you but he didn't want to scare you further.

"I knew he was lying" you muttered as you uselessly wiped away the new tears. You had known it the first time he mentioned it but you let him get in your head.

"I'm sorry" you couldn't help but feel bad for believing he could do those vile things, especially after befriending him to an extent.

Feeling the need to comfort you, Thomas tentatively reached out and gently pet your hair. He knew it wasn't the best way to comfort you but he didn't want to push too many limits. He wanted you to knew that you didn't have to apologise to him, he understood why you believe Hoyt's lies, you were just trying to protect yourself. He hoped he could earn your trust.

Instantly, with the thoughts of Thomas being a monster expelled from your mind, you moved towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. He was a little startled by your actions but still wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his shirt as he stroked your hair.

"I'm scared, Tommy" you confessed quietly, feeling like he was the only person you could be honest with around here. If you had said that to one of the older men, they would use it against you, scare you more. If you had confessed it to Luda May, she would turn on you, treat you with more suspicion again. But Thomas understood.

And Thomas' heart did ache for you. He knew how afraid you must be, how confused and lost you must have felt.

He reached behind you with one hand, grabbing the pen and quickly writing something down. You didn't budge as he grabbed the notebook and brought it between you both, getting your attention.

With a small sniffle, you pulled away and looked down at the cluttered page. 'I'll keep you safe' was written with a heavy hand, deep lines making the words stand out to you.

"Thank you, Tommy" you whispered before practically melting back against his chest.

Thomas tossed the notebook away and returned to just holding you, focused on just comforting you. You hadn't realised how much you needed something as simple as a hug, some comfort, a feeling of security. Now, Thomas was giving it to you and you felt like you never wanted to let go.

There was a reason you could never believe Hoyt's claims, Thomas had been your only feeling of safety since you started staying in this place. He still was.

[sniping-sharko]

okay so i know i insinuated i wouldn’t be doing much actual posting on this site in my description but apparently i’m already contradicting that statement very strongly so i might as well make one of these for convenience in the future. complete text under the cut

hey, i'm sharko. he/they/it/ve. 20+, pan. diagnosed audhd, undiagnosed lethal amounts of swag. still figuring stuff out but as of now i'm fairly sure that i'm a guy who likes men lots and lots. i have a tendency to be very blunt and somewhat aggressive, so if i say something properly out of line at all please let me know. i won’t be posting outright wank material on here but occasionally may post suggestive/nsft content from time to time (tagged appropriately, i’m hoping)

mostly a blog for twiddling my fingers and snickering to myself abt my interests i have like 2 or 3 very intense interests right now but they're verrrrry very secretive i bet you totally won't be able to guess them at all. im very normal and quiet about them (lie)

art tag is #sharko’s stuff (link doesn’t work on app fsr) i mostly do sfm things but one day when i’m not terrible at drawing i might start posting something 2d every once in a while. quick note: nearly all reblogged posts will be queued bc i'm very mentally sound and healthy probably

character tags will have a prefix of the fandom they're from (e.g. "#tf2 soldier", "#tfp optimus prime"). ensemble cast posts for tf2 will be tagged "#whole team tag" and ensemble posts for tfp will be tagged with #team prime and/or #decepticons. tf2 shipnames will be straightforward portmanteaus w/ names in order of class numbers (e.g. #sniperspy and #soldierdemo) for consistency but tfp shipnames are just. whatever idk the most common one i find. "#actual game tag" for posts involving tf2 gameplay

original textposts will usually be tagged under "#it can talk" along with posts where i have anything of substance to say in the tags (with posts by other people that i consider befitting of the term textposts just tagged #textpost), resources and generally helpful things go under #useful, and other miscellaneous/non-fandom stuff goes under #sharkoposting. rbs are tagged #reblog and art i find will be tagged #art because i do not have the energy to be creative about the tagging of those, 3d stuff tagged appropriately (though if it isn't sfm, it'll probably just be #3d).

do not involve me in pro-ship or anti-ship discourse. i do not have a dni and don't plan to have one in future, but for both our sakes i do not want to talk about that. i don't give a flying fuck what other people ship, and i would highly appreciate if nobody attempted to argue with me about the ethics of mashing fictional characters' faces together like barbie dolls. thank you and have a good night tri-state area

[messers-moony]

Divorce | J.P

Paring: James Potter X Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Reader goes through divorce with her arranged husband but sees her Hogwarts crush almost two years later at her Potions shop in Diagon Alley

Divorce sucks. There is no other way to say it. There is no amount of sugar to properly coat the words to make them seem better than they are. Instead, they’re pure salt– pure acidity. An arranged marriage for purebloods was typical. That doesn’t mean that everyone technically agrees they work. Some speculate that arranged marriages work more than chosen marriages. Y/n wouldn’t be one of those people.

Her family was a part of the sacred twenty-nine. The L/n’s, to be more specific. Y/n was a model child, an only child at that. She was sorted into Slytherin with not a consideration of any other house. Immediately at the age of sixteen, she was engaged to another man called Zenix Flores, another family of the sacred twenty-eight. Zenix was sweet, but he wasn’t her type.

Throughout her years at Hogwarts, Y/n stared at another. His name was James Potter. A star Quidditch player for the Gryffindor team. The best Chaser. Y/n’s lingering stares and dreamy look didn’t make it past Zenix. Fortunately, Zenix had eyes for another as well, Sirius Black, the best friend of James Potter. They bonded over that. They bonded over being in love with people they couldn’t have.

Everyone dies eventually. Immortality is not reality, and once Y/n’s parents died. Divorce was in order. However, they didn’t love each other like they should’ve it still sucked. They were close friends. But did close friends have a child together? Leo Flores, the product of Y/n Flores and Zenix Flores, was only eight years old when they went through the divorce. Leo was a token to show that Zenix and Y/n fell in love. An illusion.

It took months, but after the process was complete, Y/n left. Leo was to be in her care for the rest of his life. Zenix would send some of his profit to them to help, but he would never see his son again. Granted, he didn’t treat Leo well. Always so harsh, so strict on the little boy. The first words out of Leo’s mouth were ma’am and sir. Not momma or daddy. Instead, they were formalities.

They lived in an apartment in Diagon Alley. It wasn’t huge, but it was enough. Y/n changed her last name, and Leo’s back to L/n. Another long process but worth the wait. Y/n worked at a Potions shop in the Alley. Sometimes her old friend Severus would visit and buy some ingredients, but no one else she knew ever came into the shop. Not until he showed up at the door.

James Potter came waltzing into the Potions shop like it was nobody’s business. Unknown to the woman working the shop, he had been watching her work from afar. Just across the street was a bookstore where Remus would visit. During one of those visits, James caught sight of her. Granted, James didn’t think he’d find love after Lily ran away after his proposal claiming he wasn’t enough but that all changed when he saw her.

The feelings came back like it was yesterday she was gazing at him from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Y/n’s cheeks were set ablaze, and her stomach was placed into a frenzy of a million different feelings. Her heart made it seem like she ran around the Quidditch pitch one thousand times. Unbeknownst to her, he felt the same way.

Eventually, he made his way to the counter, “ Um- Good Afternoon. “

“ Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you today? “ Y/n asked despite her racing heart, “ I need some help brewing a complex Potion. “ James confessed, fiddling with his hands.

“ What Potion, sir? “ Y/n inquired, “ Wolfsbane. “ James answered.

Her eyebrow quirked upward, “ That is a difficult Potion. It could have awful defects if made incorrectly. “ Y/n explained, looking at the ingredient list, “ How about this, I’ll make you the Potion instead of you possibly messing it up? “

“ How can I trust you won’t mess up? “ James questioned, smirking teasingly, “ Well. If it helps any, I received O’s on all of my Potion examinations, even in N.E.W.T level. “ Y/n quipped.

“ Well. I suppose you know your stuff. “ He replied as he crossed his arms, “ I suppose I do. “ Y/n retorted with a smile.

So James decided that she’d make the Potion. He would’ve paid her a million Galleons if he was just allowed to sit in the shop and stare at her. She was a beauty and moved so gorgeously. She moved with a purpose, with determination and ambition. Sirius and Remus had begun teasing him as James stared longingly at the Potions shop across the street.

“ Do you know her name? “ Remus asked, standing beside James now, “ No? “ James stated.

Remus chuckled; of course, he didn’t, “ Y/n L/n. She was a Slytherin in our year. Amazingly brilliant she is. Apparently, she was married to Zenix Flores but got divorced two years ago. “

James and Sirius stared gobsmacked, “ Did you stalk Prongs’ future wife? “ Sirius accused, and Remus shrugged, “ I was curious. Plus, I knew her at Hogwarts. She was a Prefect. We had a lot of rounds together. “

“ She was a Prefect? “ James queried, “ Mhm. You were too busy drooling at Lily to notice her. “ Remus nodded.

Now James felt incredibly stupid. All those pranks on the Slytherin house made him feel exceptionally stupid, knowing that she could’ve caught the backlash on some of them. Not only that, but she was a part of the sacred twenty-eight. James had never felt more idiotic, and he had gotten rejected after proposing to his girlfriend. That was saying something.

A month had passed, and the potion was ready. So once again, James walked into the Potions shop. This time she had a messy top knot present on top of her hair. Her eyes held extreme tiredness, and she moved almost sluggishly. James was worried. But Y/n saw him enter the shop and her cheerful smile glazed her face. Two bottles were now present on the counter for James to take.

He stood at the counter and pressed ten Galleons on the table, “ Sir, they’re only three Galleons. “ Y/n stated, “ Take the extra. You look exhausted. “ James replied.

“ Th- Thank you. “ Y/n smiled, “ Thank you, Y/n, for making these. “ James said gratefully.

Y/n blushed, “ I- Um- You were a Slytherin Prefect in my year at Hogwarts. “ James stammered, “ I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before. “

“ It’s okay. Divorce can do that to you, Huh? “ Y/n laughed bitterly, “ Well, when I proposed to Lily, she straight up told me I wasn’t good enough so, that was almost like divorce minus the paperwork. “ James added.

“ I’m- I’m so sorry. “ Y/n apologized, “ No, no. I’m okay, trust me. It’s been about three years. “ James replied.

Before Y/n could speak again, steps were heard from the second story, “ Mom! Mom! “ Leo’s voice called as he rushed down the steps.

“ Mom! “ Leo appeared from behind the counter to see James and a blushing Y/n, “ Oops, uh, sorry, mom. “

“ No, it’s fine. Come here. “ James beckoned, and Leo hesitantly approached, “ What’s your name, little man? “

“ I’m ten! “ Leo announced proudly, and James chuckled, “ That’s awesome! “ James smiled.

Y/n turned to her son, “ What did you need, Leo? “ Despite being embarrassed, she was calm, “ You accidentally placed my quills on a high shelf. I can't reach them. “ Leo confessed, slightly embarrassed.

“ I’ll be up in just a second, but- “ Y/n began, but James stuck out his hand, “ I’m James. “

“ I’m Leo. “ Leo accepted the handshake and smiled at the adult man, “ If your mom doesn’t mind, maybe we could chat? “ James inquired, looking toward Y/n.

Leo looked hopeful at his mom, “ Please? “

“ Sure. You can go. “ Y/n allowed, and Leo hopped over the counter.

Before James could leave the proximity of the counter, Y/n grabbed his wrist, “ Please. Take care of him; I'm trusting you blindly here. “ She pleaded, and James smirked, “ Of course. “

The rest of the day went smoothly. Y/n had closed shop and began restocking items when they showed up. James' unkempt brown hair was more unorganized, but his hazel eyes glassed with mischief. Leo’s black hair was blown away from the rain, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. James beckoned the ten-year-old back upstairs while he approached Y/n.

“ So? Have a nice day with my kid? “ Y/n teased, and James chuckled, “ He’s fantastic. “

“ I know. “ She replied, “ I took him for ice cream, and we went shopping for a little. “ James informed.

Y/n melted at the adoration present on James' face, “ Do you need any money back? I can- “

“ No. Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ve got it covered. “ James interjected, “ I just saw him, and he had this look. He looked trapped. He needed to leave and just let loose for a couple of hours. “

“ I- I really love him. “ James confessed, and Y/n smirked, “ You’re in love with my son but not the woman who created him? “

“ If we're being honest. I’ve been watching you from the bookstore across the street. I thought you were gorgeous. Remus was the one who told me who you were. “ He admitted nervously, “ But being with your son today. If you’d like, could I take him out more often? “

She stepped down from the ladder and stood in front of him, “ How about you stay forever? “

“ I- I mean that is if you want. I know that I’m a pureblood, and- and my son- you probably don’t want to have a child right now. He’ll be going to Hogwarts soon, and quite frankly, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. But- But his former father wasn’t amazing, and I’m not sure you want that responsibility- “

Y/n was cut off when James grabbed her by the waist and placed his lips on hers. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles on her skin through her shirt. Y/n’s hands went through his unkept brown tuffs and his glasses slightly fogged from the heat of the kiss. They pulled apart but rested their foreheads on each other. They were still somewhat breathless from the soft kiss.

He held her chin in his hand, “ I’d love nothing more than to stay forever. “

[filipinoizukuu]

hello mr simp do you have any thoughts on the leeks 👀

FIRST OF ALL. THEY CAME SO FUCKING EARLY??? BRO I WAS ASLEEP

SECOND OF ALL

holy SHIT YALL

Okay, it's no secret that I'm an All Might stan. I LOVE All Might. Very very much. Not just as a simp, but genuinely, I enjoy his character SO MUCH.

--And unlike what some people may think, I'm not totally blind to his flaws. I know he sucks as a mentor and that he's done way more harm to Deku than good. He's.... not perfect. in every sense of the word. The whole point of AM's character is that he is a DEEPLY FLAWED individual— but at the end of the day, still good.

This new chapter gave me SOOO many new feelings. I'm not gonna lie to y'all and say I was a Stain apologist beforehand because I wasn't. I disliked Stain to a certain degree, but I also knew he was morally grey enough that I was able to still quite appreciate him as a character. This chapter was about EVERYTHING to me because I honestly did NOT expect Hori to go in this direction and for things to happen the way they did. It was too good to be true! Too fanfic-y! The disbelief I felt when I read what happened was on par with when Bakugou and Deku had that apology and kinda-hug in the rain!

But this disbelief is not because it was a bad thing.

I think the writing in Chapter 326 is phenomenal. The moment that All Might was really beginning to lose hope in not just himself as a hero, but himself as a PERSON... we finally hear the opinion of someone who would abso-fucking-LUTELY make or break the last of his spirit.

Stain is, as much as his views are pretty agreeable and his label is that of a vigilante, still a pretty shitty guy. He's tried to kill literal kids who got in his way, even if said kids made pretty dumb decisions. AM hearing what he has to say is absolutely mind-boggling to him because he knows all of that. He knows Stain is a shitty person and that his worldview is perhaps terribly skewed. He knows Stain has spent a hot minute frying his brains down in Tartarus and isn't good at making judgment calls. Knows that for all intents and purposes, Stain's opinions are not to be trusted.

But the thing is... Toshinori also knows that Stain, regardless of the soundness of his mind, is telling the truth.

Regardless of how fucked-in-the-head Stain is, we as readers are able to acknowledge that he isn't blinded by hero worship. Sure, he's bitter, cynical, and quite the absolutist--but Stain is still clear-headed enough to be able to see AM's flaws for what they are and accept them, ultimately proving to Toshinori that the power of All Might was never his own but rather the legacy that he inspired.

The society MHA takes place in is flawed. We all know this. Heroes, as a concept, had been corrupted into being purely about good and evil. Purely winning fights for money or fame or the abstract concept of victory (coughs Endeavor and the no.1 spot coughs), making heroism as we know it about flashiness and power instead of mercy and the desire to help others.

All Might symbolizes the ideal version of the Hero Society. He represents doing the best you can. Being a hero until you reach your limits, and then going even past that. He symbolizes pure intention and the desire to be a hero not for material gains but because of the pure want to make society a better and safer place. Stain refers to Kamino Ward and the statue as a "holy land" because he believes that through and through, AM's only had the purest of intentions and morals. To him, Toshinori was like a deity that had no fault in making society what it was in the present because that accountability fell on the generations of heroes that failed to fulfill his legacy.

The point being, Stain understood that All Might was fundamentally not about 'being there' for everyone 24/7, but rather the message his presence had sent.

All Might's monologue at the beginning of the chapter essentially boiled down to the ideas that:

A. He regrets not being there properly for Deku

B. His image was a delusion that ultimately led to the downfall of hero society.

To break this down, his problem with Deku is his inability to be a competent mentor. It shows that he has led him down dangerous and horrible paths (Deku's stubbornness to do things by himself and his 'dark' arc post-war), and is unable to bring him back into the light even if he tries. It was only when Class 1-A had intervened that they were able to get Deku to rest and let people tag along, after all, which is why Toshinori was far too embarrassed to follow him into UA's walls even after everyone had come out with umbrellas.

Stain disproves this in two ways.

First, he says that it was never about All Might's ability to actually be there for people. The whole point of what inspired Deku to be the inherently good-hearted "true hero" he is today is because of the values that AM's brand had instilled in him as a child. AM's biggest positive impacts came from behind the screen where he was used as the proof that true heroes can and do exist. Deku does want to be exactly like All Might, yes, which is why we see Toshinori leading him down the same path that he walked--but the underlying message of this is that the very first thing All Might gave him even before OfA was the courage to help fix society.

I do believe Deku is an innately compassionate person. Most people in the series are. However, what makes All Might's smile so uniquely impactful to what it did to Hero Society is the way it gave people courage to help people. Less hesitation. Less bystander syndromes. The ability to move without thinking. Because you can feel the want to help a person, but the courage to be nosey and actually do it? That's portrayed as something AM's image teaches people.

The second way he disproves AM's insecurity of dragging Deku down is that he makes it clear that this pain is somewhat of a necessity in reforming society. He says, interestingly enough, that this is but the 'middle process' in reforming society. This spills over to how he addresses Problem B, but what Stain is essentially saying here is that this sort of brutality and isolation that Izuku faces is impermanent. A phase. It implies that even if Deku is struggling and Toshinori is unable to help him, it is something that needs to happen before they re-realize the ideal heroes All Might's image is meant to create.

The second problem in regards to how All Might feels about current society (how it's collapsing because of him, etc. etc.) is more interestingly addressed. There are many things that Stain says--like how Toshinori doesn't need to actually be the one to fix society with his bare hands. The current society is not his fault because of the fact that it is not finished developing. I'm not sure if I can go so far as to say that Stain means this in the sense of the Scorched Earth method of tearing everything down to build it back up better-- but I can say that Stain still has faith in society to rebuild after this period of chaos.

This rebuilding starts with the old generation of heroes correcting what they messed up (i.e. Endeavor v Dabi) and more importantly, paving the way for a better generation of heroes that was inspired by All Might's image. Heroes that are led by people like Deku, who is defined by his proclivity to help without thinking. The violent deconstruction of society is about exposing society to the raw truth of All Might's image that not everybody can be as strong as him-- which is why we have to take care of each other.

When the lady comes in to remove the sign and start cleaning the statue, it's symbolic. It's a clear metaphor that the past few chapters are the turning point for society as a whole, and how people are starting to remember what real heroism is. From the distrust that was seeded in society ever since LoV had surfaced, we are seeing that trust being returned TEN-FOLD now that people can see not only the mask of a hero's smile, but also the person underneath.

I think it's some really neat symbolism here too about how Deku, who's metal mouth guard was literally all about representing All Might's smile, is shed.

This is hero society dropping their masks. Letting people see them for as they are. Toshinori revisiting the statue in this form makes all the more impact because he shed his mask ages ago during the Kamino Bust, so this is him coming face to face with the image he's created and seeing the differences between them, and how his image continues to live on even after he's almost completely Quirkless. The lady cleaning the All Might statue shows off the fact that things can be repaired again--that society can be clean (hehe stain pun) again.

It's interesting to me here how Stain offers the information from Tartarus.

He doesn't care anymore about his life. It's evident. He disagrees with what the LoV is doing, but believes enough in Deku to think that it's time for him to retire the mantle of 'Stain'. Unless this is another test, it's very odd for me to hear that Stain is offering a blade and his life to someone he isn't even sure is All Might.

But the impact of this action reads loud and clear.

This is Stain taking pity on All Might. This is him realizing that All Might too is a person behind the hero. That Toshinori Yagi is incapable of doing anything past the image he had already created. By offering that knife and information on Tartarus, Stain is giving control back to Toshinori. He is giving AM the chance to do something big again to help society's reconstruction. To be a part of the revolution that he so badly deserves to see. That knife is essentially an exit ticket from the sidelines, and one last chance for All Might to be able to see what his image has done for people.

I personally think that the main reason Stain is willing to die then and there by Toshinori's hand, despite not being sure that he is All Might to begin with, is because of the final impact it creates that it isn't about Toshinori Yagi's true power as a person, but the image of All Might. It is because he looks like the symbol of peace, that Stain (the literal HERO KILLER) feels comfortable laying his life in his hands and giving away valuable information.

If that isn't a great testament to the power of AM's image, I don't know WHAT is.

I guess all I have to say is I absolutely love what Stain did in this chapter. Everything felt so incredibly symbolic and emotional and as someone who absolutely ADORES All Might and what he stands for in the story, this felt like a cool balm after seeing Deku tragically reject his bento box a good few chapters ago. I have a few more opinions about symbolism, and how I think Deku's generation of heroes is going to stray from the old gen, but I think that's a discussion for another time.

Thanks for reading 'til the end!

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena let out an undignified squeak as she grabbed hold of the bookshelf beside her in an effort to not land on her face.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Lena turned, wiggling her foot back into her heels properly, before freezing, eyes widening at the caped figure now scrambling to her feet.

An array of books and magazines were spread out on the floor, presumably the culprit of her latest near death experience. It was as though National City’s newly revealed superhero had been sitting in between the bookshelves on the library floor… studying?

Lena clutched the cheesy romance novel she had been too busy reading to her chest as Supergirl looked at her in concern.

“Miss?”

Lena’s brain finally restarted and she cleared her throat, straightening her blazer. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Supergirl was wringing the edge of her cape in her fingers, looking far too nervous for someone who was suspected to be the strongest being on Earth by several sapphic blogs that Lena most definitely did not read.

“I’m fine.” She reached out to put a hand on Supergirl’s forearm in an impulse comfort gesture. “I promise.”

Supergirl seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension seeping from her shoulders. She held out a hand. “I’m Kara.”

Any tension that had left her immediately returned tenfold, eyes widening in panic as she froze.

Lena bit back a smile and took Kara’s hand, shaking it despite Kara’s lack of movement. “Lena. And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Kara deflated, running a hand through her hair. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena laughed and patted Kara’s bicep (definitely the strongest being on Earth). “Maybe you should stop saying names now.”

Kara grimaced. “Oops.” She looked like she was about to say something else but stopped and looked at Lena again. “Wait… are you Lena Luthor?”

Lena straightened up, careful mask falling into place to try to hide the way her heart sped up and her throat constricted. “Yes.”

But before she could launch into her speech about how she was different from the rest of her family and only wanted to help, Kara lit up, crouching down to shuffle through her piles of literature until she came up with an issue of a science magazine from a few years ago.

“I just read your article about sustainable building and how we can introduce cost-effective eco-friendly measures to construction to reduce the damage done to the environment and promote a symbiotic relationship with nature.”

Lena blinked.

Kara almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just thought it was really interesting. You’re probably tired of people asking you about your work.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “No I… I don’t mind.”

Kara smiled and Lena found her heart racing for an entirely different reason. She redirected her attention to the books scattered on the floor.

“So what’s National City’s resident superhero doing studying civil engineering, first aid and… veterinary science on the floor of the library?”

Kara blushed and knelt down to start scooping up all her things. “Sorry - I know I should have been at a desk I just got carried away.”

The pile of books was up to Kara’s eyebrows when she stood up and Lena laughed, taking the top third of them from her. “And I shouldn’t have been reading and walking. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Supergirl shrugged, toeing at the worn carpet with her red boots. “I’m new at the whole superhero thing. I don’t know where to freeze breath a building to hold it up or how to save someone who’s got water in their lungs from almost drowning. The other day I rescued a snake from a tree and tried to wrap it up in my cape to keep it warm and the owner told me ‘thanks, but reptiles are cold-blooded so they don’t warm up like that.’” She pouted at Lena. “The owner was a ten year old.”

Lena bit back a smile. “So you’re trying to learn how to be a better superhero?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

Lena considered her for a moment. “You know, I happen to have degrees in a few different kinds of engineering. And I made everyone at L-corp, including myself, take a first aid course when I took over.”

Kara looked as though she was trying to contain her hopeful expression. It wasn’t working very well, although that probably wasn’t surprising since her motto was ‘hope, help, and compassion for all.’

Kara bounced on her toes excitedly. “Would you help?”

Lena grinned and gestured to the left with her head. “Come on, I know which desk is the best in the library.”

———

It became somewhat of a routine after that. Every Saturday, Lena would go to the library as normal, pick out a new cheesy romance novel for the week and some kind of thick science book to hide it underneath, and then meet Supergirl in the back corner of the library, at the desk hidden behind the spare computers from the 90s where no one would find them.

Kara would normally already be there, pouring over texts and making notes in coloured pens and highlighters. Lena had bought her a rainbow of folders and dividers for each of the aspects of superheroing she was trying to improve in, and they had spent one very unproductive but fun day labelling and decorating them. They were now covered in random doodles, squiggly multicoloured patterns, and stickers that Kara had found in a rotating rack by the front desk, immediately claiming were essential for her learning.

During the week, Lena would keep an eye on any news of Supergirl, getting some strange looks from Jess when she walked into her office to see Lena cheering as Kara did something they’d worked on together. At the weekend she would listen to Kara excitedly retell those same events until the librarian came over to shush them. She seemed to be the only person in National city that wasn’t completely charmed by Supergirl, and it always led to half an hour of Kara pouting and asking Lena why the librarian didn’t like her.

It was a few weeks before Lena got there first. She frowned, checking the surrounding isles of books for any caped figures but they were all empty as usual.

She sat at their desk and opened up the book she had randomly grabbed off a shelf, putting her latest romance novel inside it to covertly read. It was called ‘Lost and Found: A Love Story’, the back of it claiming it was about a woman who ‘drops her scarf at a train station but ends up finding something much more meaningful in the woman she bumps into at the lost and found.’ It was exactly as awful as it sounded.

Kara bounded up to the table about 20 minutes later, a coffee cup in each hand and a satchel slung over her shoulder that made her cape bunch up awkwardly. She beamed at Lena and set a coffee down in front of her.

“Guess what I just did.”

Lena slammed the books shut inside each other, scrambling to put her arms over them and rest her chin in her hand casually. “What?”

Kara either didn’t notice or didn’t care, rounding the desk and putting her bag down on it with a grin. “I laservisioned the supports of a broken crane back together using some metal from a billboard and now it’s totally fine for use again.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to the crane in the first place?”

Kara’s cheeks heated and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she mumbled, “I may have flown into it a little bit.”

She scowled at Lena as Lena started laughing but it was undermined by the way her lips tugged up.

“Oh!” Kara lit up and started rifling through her bag. “I brought you this.”

She held out a book with a bright smile. Lena’s eyes widened as she looked down at the cover of what was very clearly another cheesy romance.

“It’s my favourite love story. It’s a bit like the one you’re reading at the moment but better, in my opinion. I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Lena scoffed. “I wasn’t reading a romance. I was reading…” she glanced over to check what book she had picked up, internally filling with regret as she read the title, but she had already committed to the facade. “The rhyming dictionary.”

Kara was very clearly trying not to laugh. “Ok. Well I’ll just leave this one here. And in case you didn’t know,” she leaned closer to Lena’s ear as she climbed into her seat, and whispered, “I have x-ray vision.”

Lena blushed, refusing to look at Kara’s smug grin. She cleared her throat and moved her books off to the side, along with the one Kara had put down, as casually as possible, and attempted to change the subject.

“So you remembered about weight distribution in support structures?”

Kara paused in taking folders and notes out her bag to turn to Lena excitedly, rambling on about her save, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Lena picked up her coffee as she listened with a soft smile, absentmindedly taking a sip.

She frowned down at the cup. “Is this my usual?”

Kara paused in her rambling. “Yeah. Does it not taste right?”

Lena shook her head, staring back down at her perfect coffee, cheeks heating at the heart drawn in latte art that Kara probably didn’t even have anything to do with. “No I just… I didn’t know you knew my order.”

Kara grinned, raising an eyebrow (Lena should never have taught her how to do that). “Perhaps you’re not as elusive as you think, Lena Luthor.”

———

Lena arrived at the library one Saturday to find Supergirl staring at the front doors like she might set light to them any moment.

“What’s wrong Supergirl? Lose a fight with a door handle?”

Kara turned to her with a pout, pointing at a sign hanging on the other side of the glass. It read ‘Library closed until 23rd due to water damage. Apologies for the inconvenience.’

Lena sighed.

“Where am I going to get my books for this week, Lena? I’m never going to understand civil engineering without them.”

Lena bit the inside of her cheek, the rational part of her brain at war with the part that was helpless to the superhero’s pout. It had to be one of her superpowers because Lena would never admit she was actually soft.

She tore her gaze away, trying to seem casual. “I actually have some engineering textbooks at my apartment. I guess you could borrow them if you wanted.”

Lena squeaked as Supergirl crushed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Lena laughed, trying to turn it inconspicuously into a cough when a passerby gave a slightly shocked and confused look at the sight of a Luthor and a Super laughing on the library steps. Kara dropped her back to her feet, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. She turned to go but as she went to gesture for Kara to follow, her hand caught against Kara’s. Her brain misfired and decided in the split second where her index finger hooked onto Kara’s pinkie that the best course of action was to commit to it and simply hold hands. In an attempt to make it seem less affectionate and more practical, she walked off quickly, dragging Kara along in the direction of her apartment.

She could feel Kara’s smile like rays of sun behind her. At least her hair was down to cover up the heat that was creeping up the back of her neck.

Her apartment was only a few minutes from the library. She had to slap Kara’s hand away from the elevator buttons before she pressed them all, marveling at how many floors there were.

“So this is where you live?” Kara looked around the hallway, panicking when she snapped a leaf off of a decorative plant, while Lena unlocked the penthouse door.

Lena pretended not to see her discreetly dropping the leaf into the plant pot but raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Supergirl. I just decided we should come and stare at this random person’s door.”

Kara ignored her, walking past into her apartment and looking down at the city below through the large floor to ceiling windows. “Nice view. I should take you flying sometime - it’s even better from up in the clouds, especially at night.”

Lena closed the front door, trying not to think about romantic flights and being cradled in strong arms. “I’ll go get the textbooks.”

She moved towards her home office, Kara trailing behind in interest. The engineering textbooks were over in the left corner and she scanned the alphabetised section for the ones she wanted.

Kara ran her fingers over the spines of books until Lena was done. She smirked at Lena, letting her hand trail teasingly down the bookshelf before she left. Lena blushed as she realised why. Kara had found her fiction section, over half the books in which were very clearly a certain genre.

Lena groaned and followed her out.

They spent the entire afternoon on the floor around Lena’s coffee table, going through the textbooks, laughing over Kara’s constant puns, and eating the seemingly endless supply of snacks Kara produced from her bag. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that Lena realised how long they’d spent simply telling jokes and stories.

It was alarmingly easy to just be around Kara. Strangely, Lena didn’t think she minded.

———

Lena frowned as someone knocked on her door. It was a Saturday morning and she was just about to leave to meet Supergirl at the library.

She only grew more confused as she opened the door to see a fluffy white cloud panting happily at her and squirming in her direction. A head poked out from behind it, looking just as happy.

“Lena, hi! Sorry to just turn up but the mean librarian lady threw me out because apparently you aren’t allowed to play fetch in the library.”

Lena stared at the woman currently holding a large puppy in front of her, familiar blonde curls pinned back and glasses slipping down her nose. “…Kara?”

Kara blinked at her for a moment before she seemed to realise. “Oh! Right. Sorry - this is what I look like normally. When I’m not being Supergirl I mean. Alex said I wasn’t allowed to wear the suit all the time because it had to be washed.”

Lena nodded slowly, trying to reconcile the image of this Kara with Supergirl and to not think too hard about the implications of Kara being comfortable enough around her to show her her civilian identity. “Right. Why do you have a dog?”

Kara lit up. “I saved an animal shelter from a fire and they let me adopt this guy. Isn’t he adorable?”

Lena looked at the matching faces of excitement. “Very cute. But why is he here?”

Kara shrugged. “Well I couldn’t leave him after I’d just adopted him so I thought he could join us for our study session?”

Lena crossed her arms and Kara pouted. It was somewhat undermined by the puppy licking her face and making her giggle but Lena was still helpless to resist.

“Ok but he better not mess up any of my stuff.”

“Yes!” Kara grinned, wiggling the puppy excitedly, his ears flopping about.

Kara kissed her cheek on her way into the apartment and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The puppy licked her in an attempt to join in but even that didn’t stop the way her heart raced.

They settled on the couch, facing each other as Lena quizzed Kara with flashcards. The puppy alternated between curling up in Kara’s lap and zooming around Lena’s living room, falling over his own paws.

“Ok, last one. How do you treat a sprain?”

“Ice it with my freezebreath, wrap it so it’s compressed but not cutting off circulation, keep it elevated.”

Lena grinned proudly. “That’s it! Done.”

Kara threw her hands in the air in delight, squealing as she propelled herself forwards to tackle Lena to the couch. She pulled back just as quickly, pushing up to brace herself over Lena.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

All the breath had deserted Lena’s lungs and she stared up at Kara. A light flush rose on Kara’s cheeks, pale pink against the deep blue of her eyes, bringing out the freckles that dusted her skin.

The flashcards slipped from Lena’s grasp as she surged up to meet Kara’s lips. Kara’s arms almost buckled but she caught herself. And then she was kissing back.

Lena’s hands slid up Kara’s back, practically pulling Kara down on top of her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads rested together.

Kara was smiling softly down at her when she finally opened her eyes. She had shifted to hold herself up on one hand and one elbow, her free hand gently stroking back Lena’s hair.

She looked like she was about to say something when she did a double take over the armrest of the couch behind Lena and her soft look turned into a wince. “What was it you said about the puppy not messing up any of your stuff?”

[echodrops]

The Promises I Made (2022)

...Aha ha ha...

Well, at least that’s over, I guess? I feel such a bone deep exhaustion I don’t even know what to say about this last year. Does anyone? One more year older, I suppose. Last year at this time I felt like I really needed to take it easy on myself going into 2022, but that just led to me drifting aimlessly through this last year as if stuck in a bad dream. Things really are still very rough...

2023 seems to be gearing up for another year of “Who knows?” Will it be better? Will another disaster strike? Let’s hope the former, and not the latter!

This year, like every year, there will be a new set of 50 promises to keep (or break), but in the mean time, here’s how I did on the promises from 2022!

Promises I Made (2022):

1) Get the Utah house chimney repaired before it falls down.

Status: Kept. It doesn’t look “brand new,” but it is properly sealed now and with new mortar between the bricks. Crisis averted.

2) Get both bedroom floors sanded in the Utah house upstairs.

Status: Broken. The Utah house needed a lot of improvements and unfortunately this wasn’t one of them that got done.

3) Get the Utah house sprinklers up and working ALL the way for this summer.

Status: Broken. I literally tried so hard to get someone out to work on these damn sprinklers and not a single person got back to me on this. Guess I’ll have to try again next May...

4) Actually get the back fence fixed up and the greenery back there trimmed and managed.

Status: Broken. I hate those goddamn vines so much. I HATE THEM.

4) Get an official exercise routine including walking/jogging, please.

Status: Somewhat kept. Most of the year I was pretty bad on this; however, I have a new puppy and she is learning to walk so I do got 4-5 miles a day now that she’s managed to work up to that.

5) Related to that, lose at least 20 pounds. 2020-2021 was not kind to me and the stress eating was real.

Status: Ugh, broken. See the above “sat around and did nothing but work for 3/4s of the year.”

6) Successfully set up and use the Roomba my family got for me to hopefully cut down on allergies.

Status: Broken. Okay listen. I was all ready to do this, then I got a P U P P Y. Who chews everything. The Roomba would not survive. It’s stationary until she gets a bit bigger and stops chewing.

7) Keep up with the specialist appointments that my doctor is making for me. No more getting confused on dates and missing…

Status: Kept. I actually managed to get in to see the RIGHT specialist this year who actually diagnosed my issues correctly. Too bad the recommended treatment is surgery that will be several thousand out of pocket...

8) Go see the dentist again because I think I broke/chipped one of my old fillings and it is not feeling good.

Status: Kept. The old filling was indeed broken, but it has been fixed!

9) Finish all the books I received as gifts from 2020 through 2021. It’s rude not to finish books people gave you out of love.

Status: ...Ahahaha. Broken. More books appeared, rather than disappeared, from the list.

10) Organize my documents (especially student papers)—my desktop and documents folders give me nightmares just looking at them.

Status: Damn, broken. I could have done this, but I didn’t think to do it before I left town for the holiday, and now I’m not on my home computer to do it. RIP.

11) Get my new SSD hard drive fully installed and working before going back to work.

Status: Kept.

12) Get a decent paper shredder to shred old mail.

Status: Broken. I completely forgot I made this promise. I do still need a shredder though. D;

13) Get the fucking post office to STOP delivering other people’s mail to my house. 90% of the mail that comes to the mailbox isn’t even for me and it is driving me C R A Z Y.

Status: Broken. Jesus fucking Christ. I am trying so hard. I talked to the postmaster TWICE and they still won’t stop delivering other people’s mail.

14) Get the Texas house dishwasher fixed… I’m so tired of washing dishes by hand… How do people do this, oof.

Status: Broken. I could have and I just didn’t.

15) Get a plumber to stop the dripping spare bathroom faucet and also check behind the wall in the side bathroom… This is gonna be expensive, ugh.

Status: Kept. It was fucking expensive.

16) Talk to an HR rep about my retirement savings so that I can consolidate my retirement accounts. I have been putting this off for like five years now.

Status: Broken. I completely forgot I made this promise. But damn I also still need to do this, lol.

17) Do at least one artwork to actually use that new paint program I bought.

Status: Broken. Oof.

18) Pay my credit debt down by at least $2000. I’m still paying off the hell year but I hope I can make progress on this.

Status: Broken. I was doing so good for a while there, then my car had a major issue that cost over $2000, my back fence blew down in a storm and cost $1700 to re-fence, and I had to pay over $800 for the above-mentioned plumbing fixes... Back in debt again. Fuck you, 2020s.

19) Be a super prepared boss and be ahead of the game on all major requirements for the semester, rather than feeling like I’m playing catch-up all the time.

Status: Broken. Spring 2021 was really good. I thought I did really well that semester. Fall 2021... was a nightmare. Just a complete disaster. I felt so far behind on everything from Day 1. I’m just praying I can do better this year.

20) See a groove-billed ani. This will be the year!

Status: DUDE, I kept this promise so hard that I no only saw a groove-billed ani, I ALSO saw a smooth-billed ani, which is like 100 times rarer. I saw some great birds this year!

21) Make it to 3500 followers on tumblr. You should follow me. I’m awesome. :D

Status: Broken. Despite the porn bots best efforts in November/December, I did not, in fact, make it to 3500. I would have had to POST something to get new followers, after all.

22) Update HaaH at least once. I will do this, no matter what.

Status: Broken. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so bad at this.

23) Finish streaming all the new Marvel stuff with Kacchan.

Status: Broken. I was REALLY, REALLY close to caught up. Then Marvel released like 50 new movies and 500 new TV shows and I am very much giving up on this lmaooo.

24) Save up to finally buy one of those Ember heated tea mugs.

Status: Kept. My family bought me one for Christmas!

25) Do a better job of working with and representing the other disciplines in my department. I’m really good at advocating for English, but Communication and the foreign languages under my department need more support, and I need to step up for them.

Status: Kept, though mostly by necessity. All our full-time Spanish instructors retired so guess who had to help redo all the Spanish curriculum despite not speaking Spanish???

26) Use the sugar scrub Echo. Just use it. Pamperrrrrr yourself for once…

Status: Broken. It’s RIGHT THERE. Every day, I look right at it, and did I use it? Not even once.

27) Help my parents save money on their bills by consolidating their services and making some calls to retention of these companies for them.

Status: Somewhat kept? I honestly did try very hard on this one and was prevented from succeeding by my parents just being completely unwilling to change, even to save themselves money. Oof.

28) Bird watch in at least three brand new locations this year. I have a tendency to just go back to the places I know, and I’m probably missing some really great birding sites.

Status: Broken. I bird watched one brand new location this year, but alas, only one.

29) Keep up my medicine prescriptions successfully without letting them lapse.

Status: Kept. The new medicine is like the one thing standing between me and death, so I don’t usually forget it anymore lol.

30) Play with my dog and cat more often. They’re bored because I’m working too much, I know.

Status: Somewhat kept. I tried this year to cut down on the amount of work I brought home, but other situations made it really difficult to do so. My poor cat in particular definitely needs more attention.

31) Call an exterminator to finally get the ants that keep coming in from somewhere actually dealt with, instead of just spraying them with bug spray even other week and calling it good.

Status: Kept, in that the ants are gone? After I went away for the summer, there was no water running in the house, so the ants stopped coming in, and even after I came back at the end of summer, they just never came back? So I’m counting that as a promise kept?

32) This is super nerdy, but my bro got me the FFXIV cookbook and made me promise to actually use it, so I guess I’d better at least try to make something from it.

Status: Ooops. I forgot I made this promise. Broken.

33) Speaking of FFXIV: This year, I’ll obtain every in-game orchestrion roll. I’m already 80% of the way there.

Status: Broken. See, the issue with this promise is that they keep adding MORE orchestrion rolls... Not sure what I was thinking lol.

34) Get a new rose bush for the front of the Texas house and keep it alive.

Status: I did not do this. Broken.

35) Get King’s prescriptions moved to the closer vet so I don’t have to keep driving two hours away each month to get his medicine.

Status: Kept, in a sense. I was able to move his medicine over to the new vet, but unfortunately, there didn’t end up being any point to it. At the end of January in 2022, he was diagnosed with throat cancer. He lived until April 2022 and then passed away. My beloved boy...

36) Buy the Noragami volumes I am missing from my collection and do a full re-read of the series so that I can write meta about it again. Right now it just feels like there are so many things I can’t properly remember…

Status: Broken. I still greatly want to do this, but at this point, I’m kind of just waiting for the end of the manga so that I can officially catch up and re-read it from start to finish.

37) Go to Zion National Park with Derby.

Status: Kept. We hiked so much.

38) Go horseback riding on the island. I’ve never ridden on a beach before!

Status: Broken. I did not do this, RIP.

39) Eat healthier. Maybe cutting out snacks is too much to ask, but at least replace some average meals with salads, etc. and overall make an effort to actually eat better. Sometimes the fact that I feel garbage is my own fault.

Status: Mostly broken. The stress was so real this year.

40) Related to feeling like garbage: NO MORE WORKING AFTER 9PM. If it’s a real emergency, okay, but otherwise, it is time to set a boundary about working from home after hours.

Status: Broken. I must have been on crack when I made this promise, because honestly there is no way I could possibly have done the job I have without working to midnight many nights of the year... Someone save me...

41) Get a new office chair, an actual nice one, and some plastic to go under the chair to make it easier to move around.

Status: Broken. I... probably should have remembered to check in on the promises more than a few times this year because I also totally forgot this one.

42) Finish decorating the main office. I’ll feel better if my workplace reflects the level of professionalism and school spirit that I envisioned it having this year.

Status: Broken. I know exactly what I want to do with the rest of the office that isn’t decorated, I just never got around to it. T_T

43) Ensure our department successfully meets all its IEP goals this year.

Status: Kept! We were the first department to confirm completion of all goals!

44) Try to be more comprehensive with giving feedback to students. I’m always good at providing detailed comments on essays, but I’d like to spend more time commenting on smaller assignments too this year.

Status: Broken. I was trying in Spring 2022, but in fall, I was double over-loaded on courses on top of all the administrative work I had and could barely keep up grading at all, let alone give more feedback.

45) Write an FFXIV fic. Even if it’s just a one-shot, write something for this series. I need to express my love…

Status: Kept! I wrote a whole bunch for #FFXIVWrites and even received an art prize for participating! <3

46) Be more proactive about the cleaning. No more accidentally forgetting to take the trash can out to the curb. At least once a month do a full dust and vacuum of the house, not just the one room I spend the most time in (my office lol).

Status: Surprisingly, kept. I don’t really know why, but my house was somehow much cleaner in the latter half of this year. Did I unlock the secret stress cleaning routine?

47) Participate in NaNoWriMo. Even if I don’t finish, just participating again will feel great.

Status: Broken. There was zero chance I could have done this while overloaded on courses.

48) Get a screen door put on the side door of the Texas house. This really needs to happen and I can’t believe I just remembered.

Status: Broken, although not for lack of trying. I did actually have someone come to try to measure for a screen door, but it turns out the door is not a standard size and it would be way too much money to get a custom screen door made.

49) Don’t forget anyone’s birthday or any other holidays this year. (I forgot a close friend’s birthday last year due to being stressed with work and I’m still upset with myself over it.)

Status: Mostly kept. I did better this year--not perfect, but better!

50) I will keep my promises!

Status: OOF. Mostly broken promises this year. 2022 was another hard one. I’m on the struggle buss.

Kept: 16

Somewhat kept/somewhat broken: 3

Broken: 31

Good luck, 2023′s Echo!

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || BONDED FOREVER

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna ft. itadori yuji and fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and some graphic/violent actions

| form : imagine 

| word count : 1749

| published : 03 december

| request : Can I a request a imagine where it’s super fluffy for Sukuna? I was wondering it can have a story of how he had a wife and she had reincarnated into someone who’s a powerful sorcerer? But she’s the soulmate for Sukuna..does this make sense at all? I hope you know what I mean😭😭

| barista’s notes : hey hey hey guys~ sorry for the really sort upfates, i’ve been having som difficulties writing some of these imagines due to a lack of ideas and writer’s block ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ but i hope you all had a good day today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but for me, other than coming home at around 5pm in the dark winter night, i had a decent day ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ also i don't think i answered this request properly, so i really do apologies ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come back soon!

The sweet aroma invaded your sense of smell, as you blissfully admired the array of flower petals that surround you in the warm water that you were sitting in right now. Gently, you glided your hand across the water, watching the petals also softly move with the direction of the current causing some of them to stick to your hand like a tattoo. However, before you could even move your hand again to keep you somewhat entertained, you felt an unexpectanted grip on your wrist, only for the same hand to be pulled up as the person behind you placed a kiss within your inner palm causing you to turn around to see what your husband was intending to do.

The man behind you, who still has his lips on your palm, opened his eyes to showcase his charming scarlet eyes as he looked down upon you only for him to smile softly at you - a rare smile that he only reserved for you and you only. Smiling softly back to him, you took the opportunity to caress his cheek as you admired the black markings that were permanently painting on his skin.

To him, at this current moment in time, you were at your most beautiful state as the water glistened beautifully on your bare skin with some of the petals stuck on to you, making you look like a painting made by the greatest artist with your hair stuck upon your neck due to it being soaked with the water that you and him were in right now.

“What’s going on in that little mind of yours?” Sukuna quietly asked as he leaned forward to place a heavy kiss upon your lips, leaving you no room to answer his question as you were so concentrated on the euphoric feeling to which then you felt his arms slowly wrap around your small figure, entrapping you in his embrace, leaving you no choice but to completely turn your body to face him as you then placed your leg on either side of him causing some of the water to overflow over the wooden bath, but that left no concern for you or the King of Curses.

“Nothing,” you answered him with a heavy breath once your both pulled apart, but still this little thought of yours was still plaguing your mind. “Don’t lie to me little one, you know better than not to lie to me ever,” Sukuna muttered, as his hand snaked from tracing your collarbone to having a light hold on your neck. However, it wasn’t the usual hold he would have against his opponent where his grip would tighten to disturb the airflow leading to the suffocation the unfortunate victim but rather a comforting gesture as his thumb moved up and down, expressing to you that you were able to open up to him about anything that was troubling your mind.

“When I pass, I came to the realisation that it won’t bother you at all,” you admitted to him with a soft smile, as you run your hand through his dampened hair. Although, the curse himself, exhibited the opposite reaction to what you were expressing right now making him wonder what caused you to question your importance to him. 

“Little one, when you state that absurd comment, it does nothing but infuriate me,” Sukuna voiced out to you as he leaned forward towards you - to the point where you were chest to chest - before leaving a few kisses upon your jawline. “When you pass, I will have no idea how to control myself. I may be sadistic in nature but you have calmed me down to extreme lengths that sometimes I am scared to admit. When you pass, I have nothing left to hold, no other person can take your place. Ever.” Sukuna expressed to you as he then leaned back to look at you in the eye, only to see your surprised express to his admission, “don’t ever, let that ridiculous idea come to plague your mind again Y/N, you are mine for eternity as I am yours, there is no escape from it, we are bonded forever,”.

“Forever ha?” you repeated him in a light breath, only for him to pull you into another heated kiss as his hands began to wonder around your body as if he was tracing everything to memory. Your body, your heart and your soul was entirely bonded to him as the same goes for him to you. As he said, there was no escape from it.

                                              ꕥ

“Sorry, but he’s not coming back” 

Stood frozen, you didn’t have the strength to look back on who was behind you nor did you want to lose sight of Fushiguro, knowing out of the both of you, he was in the most danger. 

“Don’t be so frightened, I’m in a good mood right now, since I get to physically see you again Y/N, so let’s chat for a bit” Sukuna cunningly commented, causing you to widen your eyes while the cold sweat behind your back began to intensify, fearful on what the King of Curses intended for you.

‘I need to quickly get Fushiguro to a safe place….but how? Damn it! How?’

However, before you could even move, the King of Curses decided that he would move for you to present himself to both of yours and Fushiguro’s view. “This is what he gets for trying to use me without any kind of pact, feels like he’s having some trouble switching back,” Sukuna stated as if he was explaining on why Itadori couldn’t gain control even after showcasing back in Sendai that he could.

“Still, though it’s a matter of time,” Sukuna continued to talk as he casually ripped off the top of Itadori’s uniform, showcasing the black markings on his body. On the other hand, what happened next caused you and Fushiguro to widen your eyes in terror as Sukuna suddenly viciously stabbed himself in the chest with his hand before slowly taking out the beating heart that was inhibiting Itadori’s body.

“I’m taking this brat hostage”

Finally having the guts to move your body, using the extremely little gap of time you had, you swiftly grabbed onto Fushiguro’s sleeve before speedily using your curse energy to form a protective sphere around his body leaving you alone in the open to any attacks the special grade curse could use on you now.

“Y/N!” Fushiguro shouted while beginning to violently bang his arms on the orb that you had manifested around him, trying to obtain a crack or a weak spot to let him out. “What are you doing you, idiot?!” Fushiguro then questioned you in a state of panic, trying to gain some understanding of what you were planning. However, you didn’t answer.

“Your goodwill stayed with you even after 1000 years, there’s nothing more than I expected from my little one, though I am frustrated at the fact that it isn’t reserved for me” 

Still somewhat fearful but now confused, you quickly used your curse energy to construct a black katana out of thin air, before raising up to point the tip to Sukuna’s neck. “Oh?” Sukuna expressed before smiling at you with such pride expressed on his face, “it’s been such a long time since you have threatened me like that Y/N, you were powerful in words back then but now you gained powers of a sorcerer, what a magnificent discovery,”.

‘What can I do? I have a limit of summoning 20 weapons at the same time but is that even enough to even get a single scratch on him?’ 

“Do you not remember me? Little one, you look as beautiful as you did that night, your hair wet from the rain and your skin still beautiful glistens then the water hits your face” Sukuna playfully commented, as he took a step closer to you causing you to take one step back.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you finally spoke to the man in front of you, only for him to smirk even wider. However, before he could even get another single word in, you immediately summoned another 19 weapons - maximizing your limit -  from spear, swords and axes behind him, only for all of then to immediately come down with a powerful strike causing a large explosion to erupt as dust from the ground suddenly flared up, blinded your view as well as Fushiguro’s causing his anxiety to heighten on what was going on and where you were.

“You always somehow impressed me, little one. There is never a day where I am disappointed,” a deep voice commented, causing you to widen your eyes once you saw Sukuna standing right in front of you with an uncharacteristic soft smile on his face - leaving you in an extreme state of confusion once a blurred image of a man smiling at you slowly constructed in your mind.

“Why?” you question yourself in a perplexed tone.

‘How?’

“Why do I suddenly feel like I've seen you smile at me like that before?” you quietly questioned, still engulfed in the dusty smoke that was surrounding the both of you. Slowly and gently gripping on to the wrist on your other hand, Sukuna slowly raised it up before placing a small kiss within the palm of your hands causing an almost unnoticeable tiny electric current to travel up your arm to the kissed palm - as if it was something that your body suddenly remembered.

“We are bonded forever, remember that little one” Sukuna declared to you in a softer tone than he had expressed earlier before the black markings slowly started to fade indicating to you that Itadori was steadily coming back, causing you to drop your katana and open your arms once you felt his heavy body fall upon yours.

“Itadori?” you quietly called, still hoping that he was alive somehow even without the use of the vital organ that was now out of his body.

“Y/N?” Itadori called out to you just in time as the dust around you began to fade, “I’m almost done for, but I guess I don’t have to worry you, Fushiguro, Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei anymore, live a long life,”, but before you could even get a single sound in to tell him that he was going to be okay, you felt his body slowly go limp indicating to you that he was now gone.

“Bonded forever?”