#tried to make this like the process of growing up kinda

[asoftepiloguemylove]

and i don't wanna be my mom's least favorite only child anymore

unknown / Destiny Fieldplate Gauntlets Description / Cheekface I Only Say I'm Sorry When I'm Wrong Now / Tanaka Mhishi Literary Sexts /@/grievng (on tumblr) / Mary Lu The Young Elites / Marie Howe After the Movie / Mary Oliver North Country / unknown / Susan Sontag excerpt from As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980

i. unknown

[ "young, corrupted by tragedies of war and exile / alone in spite of himself / boy made of ash and a honey soaked dawn / rust on his hands, in his throat, in his lungs / bright-eyed, rough edges, scraped raw and twisted with time / where is his soft epilogue?" ]

ii. Destiny, Fieldplate Gauntlets Description

[ "Ignore every instinct to flee. Remember: you are a monster too." ]

iii. Tanaka Mhishi, Literary Sexts

[ "I am fragile and unholy. / Open. Ravage. Eat." ]

iv. @/grievng

[ "im so fucking angry that no one ever protected me and no one was ever in my fucking corner when i was a kid its not fucking fair" ]

v. Marie Lu, The Young Elites

[ "So. Tell me, little wolf. Would you like to punish those who have wronged you?" ]

vi. Cheekface, I Only Say I'm Sorry When I'm Wrong Now

[ "You're no longer fine / With the way that things are / Your heroes are dead / And so I guess you are the hero now" ]

vii. Marie Howe, After the Movie

[ "My friend Michael and I are walking home / arguing about the movie. / He says that he believes a person can love someone / and still be able to murder that person." ]

viii. Mary Oliver, North Country

[ "and gorgeous. You listen and you know you could live a better life than you do, be softer, kinder. And maybe this year you will be able to do it. Hear how his voice" ]

ix. unknown

[ "What happens when you get older / is you get over it. You buy flowers / to set on the table. You say your prayers. // You learn to live alone / the way you learned to love / everything // not dead."]

x. Susan Sontag, As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh

[ "I suffer from a chronic nausea-after I'm with people. The awareness (after-aware-ness) of how programmed I am, how insecure, how frightened." ]

[onim5]

The worst conversation

Portgas D. Ace x pregnant reader.

But it's not really about that. It's more about ASL brothers.

Warnings: Just read at your own risk.

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

Ace stood proudly before everyone, as they all cheered. It was just such great and unexpected news.

"I'm gonna become an uncle!" Luffy yells happily. Ace nods and finds Luffy giving him a bone crushing hug. Sabo joins in and gratulates Ace.

"So where's the baby?" Luffy asks, looking around.

"Uh, it's still in Y/n's stomach." Ace answer, as they all broke lose from the hug.

"It's in her stomach! Did she eat it?!" Luffy yells.

"No, no, Luffy, don't you know how babies are made?" Sabo asks.

"Not really. How are they made?" He asks. Sabo and Ace look uncomfortably around. Before taking Luffy to another room, where they could speak in private.

"Ace, how did you and Y/n get a baby?" Luffy asks innocently, making Ace blush and look away.

"It's, it's um, complicated." He stuttered out.

"What did you two do?" Luffy asks, curious. Ace blush darkened.

"Um, well, when two people love each other." Ace began, but Luffy interrupted.

"Like brothers?"

"NO!" Both Sabo and Ace practically yelled.

"Like food?" Sabo face palmed while Ace groaned. They had both assumed Luffy had figured this out himself a long time ago.

"Not like food either. But like one you wanna spend your life with and such, get married." Sabo tries to explain.

"Wait is a wedding the process to get a baby?" Luffy asks.

"No, it happens more often than not, after marrige." Ace shrugs uncomfortably.

"But what do you do? How did the baby end up in Y/n's stomach?" Luffy suspiciously asks.

Ace sighs. And figures that he need to tell him. "When two people spend the night together and love each other, very, very much. Nine months after that, a baby will arrive." Ace explains, waiting for Luffy to come to the crushing realization.

"Wait, don't you and Y/n sleep with each other every night? Do you guys have a lot of babies on the way!"

Ace choke on his own spit. His face turned deep red as he heard Luffy's question. "Luffy, no, the hell we don't. That's not how it works!" Sabo stood at the side and covered his cheeks. This was embarrassing, to say the least.

"But you and Y/n love each other, very much. And you sleep in the same bed every night." Luffy points out.

"Listen, Luffy, I do not get Y/n pregnant every night." Ace clearifies. Secretly cursing his little stupid brother.

"What's the difference?" Luffy asks, confused.

"It only happens when we want it to." Ace answers.

"And what do you do then, some kind of ritual?" Luffy asks curiously.

"Um, kinda." Ace answer while frowning.

"A ritual huh. . . . . Can I come next time?" Luffy asks innocently. Ace and Sabo feel like a brick slammed to their heads.

"Absolutely not!" Ace almost yells.

"What, why, I can be on the side." Luffy suggests with a pout.

"Just, no, no, no, no, no." Ace states clearly while blushing madly.

"But why?! I wanna see the ritual. What if I want a baby one day. You need to show me how to make one if you wanna become an uncle." Luffy uses as an argument.

"I can also make Ace an uncle." Sabo mutters, embarrassed. Ace groans and looks at Sabo for help. Not whatever that was.

"Anyway, Luffy, it's not some kind of spirit summoning ritual. Do you know how plants grow from seeds?" Sabo asks.

"Yeah, but we aren't plants." Luffy answers.

"No, but it's kind of the same idea. You need two people to make a baby, like you need two parts to make a plant grow - a seed and soil." Sabo explains.

"So . . . . Ace has a seed?" Luffy asks, his face scrunched up in thought.

Ace face turns bright red, his hands coming up to cover his face. "Sabo, I hate you for this."

Sabo chuckles at his brothers misery. "Not literally Luffy, but kind of, yeah."

"So you and Y/n planted a seed? But why did you plant it in her? I'm sure we have a pot here somewhere." Luffy says, looking around.

"It's not literally a seed." Ace repeats, still blushing in frustration.

"Can you give me one? I wanna try." Luffy states. Ace face turns beat red, and at this point, he might as well bang his head on the wall. Sabo bit his tounge, he really shouldn't laugh.

"Wait, aren't I'm supposed to have one too?" Luffy mumble, more to himself. As he walks away, he grabs a pot and puts a strand of his hair in it.

"Luffy, if you think a pot will help you make a child, I smack you on the head." Ace mumbles. Then glance at Sabo to see him just as dumbfounded.

Is he for real about to shove a strand of hair down a pot and expect a child from that? They both think.

"I wanna try." Luffy answers, confirming he actually thinks that.

"First of, it won't work. Second, I give up." Sabo sighs.

"So do I," Ace says, smacking Luffy on the head.

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

"I don't know what this is. Comment if you want."

Masterlist

[itneverendshere]

you and your sister going out to the store, and milo’s so wiggly in the cart and you over hear your sister tell him “go hang with uncle rafe” and he zooms to rafe and it’s so cute to see

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 it's so cute watching them all grow up/old together it kills me

i'd give up everything - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

It’s almost golden hour, and the parking lot of the grocery store is lit in that perfect, warm light that makes everything look prettier than it is. You’re pushing the cart while Monica’s next to you, holding onto Milo’s hand as he bounces with energy he clearly stole from the depths of kid’s chaos. It’s like he never stops.

You can’t remember the last time this kid sat still.

“Why did we even bring him?” You laugh, watching as Milo keeps trying to wriggle out of her grasp. "It's like he's allergic to being still."

Monica sighs, throwing you a half-hearted grin. “I know, right? Kid’s got more energy than I did in college.”

Milo makes a break for it, slipping out of her hold and darting towards the cart. He’s got this wild grin on his face like it’s the most fun game in the world. And to be fair, it kinda is. His growing legs are sprinting towards the cart before Monica can even react.

“Come on, Milo!” she calls after him, rolling her eyes but not too mad about it. She’s used to this routine by now.

You scoop him up, plopping him back into the shopping cart with a laugh, wheezing in the process because wow he’s grown now. “I got him,” You say, but he’s already jumping, trying to climb out like some mini escape artist. His hands grip the edge, feet kicking out as he tries to launch himself toward freedom.

“You know who’s better at wrangling this kid?” Monica says with a smirk, like she’s got the perfect plan up her sleeve.

“Don’t say it,” You warn, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Go hang with Uncle Rafe,” she sing-songs, like it’s the solution to every kid problem in the world.

And, of course, the second the words leave her mouth, Milo’s entire face lights up. He lets out this high-pitched squeal, the kind that only a soon to be six-year-old can make without bursting their vocal cords, and he’s off. He shimmies out of the cart like a squirrel, landing on the pavement with all the grace of a tiny athlete.

“Milo, wait!” You laugh, but honestly, you don’t even try to stop him. The kid’s determined, and you all know where he’s headed.

Rafe’s leaning against the hood of his truck, looking way too cool for a grocery store run. He’s on his phone, completely oblivious to the tornado zooming his way.

Milo barrels into his legs with full toddler force, grabbing onto his jeans like his life depends on it. “Unca Rafe!” he shouts, voice so full of excitement it makes your heart flip. 

Rafe looks down, caught off guard, but then his face softens into this smile that’s...it’s so unfair how cute he is. How does he manage to go from looking like the most intimidating guy in the world to this softie in two seconds flat? It’s criminal, really.

“Well, hey, little man,” He says, tucking his phone into his pocket and crouching down to Milo’s level. “What’s up? You causin' trouble already?”

Milo giggles, throwing his arms around Rafe’s neck in the clumsiest, cutest hug. Rafe lifts him up with ease, like he weights nothing, holding him against his chest like he’s done it a thousand times before — which, honestly, he kinda has. 

You lean against the cart, watching the whole scene unfold, and you can’t help but smile. It’s such a simple thing, but the way Rafe is with Milo always gets you. Like, he’s got this side to him that not a lot of people see, this soft, caring, protective side that only comes out when he’s with the people he loves. And watching him with your nephew? Yeah, it makes you feel things. Big, mushy, embarrassing things.

“He’s obsessed with you, you know,” You say as you walk up to them, folding your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow.

Your boyfriend gives you this cocky grin, holding Milo with one arm like it’s nothing. “Can you blame him?” he teases, winking. “He’s just like his auntie.”

Even though you roll your eyes at his teasing, there’s no denying that he’s right. Milo is kind of like you—especially in the way he seems totally infatuated with Rafe.

You can’t blame him.

“I don’t know who you think you’re flattering right now,” you reply, smirking as you grab a few of the grocery bags from the cart. “But fine, I’ll give you that. Kid’s got good taste.”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm, while Milo tugs at the collar of his t-shirt, trying to get his attention again. “Unca Rafe, can I go in the truck?” Milo asks, bouncing with the same boundless energy that’s been following him all day. You really miss the days he called him Rafey.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you for approval like the responsible uncle he pretends to be sometimes. “What do you think? You wanna let him play around inside?”

You shrug, already giving in because, let’s be real, there’s no stopping Milo when he’s this excited. “As long as he doesn’t drive off, I’m good.”

“No promises, baby."

Before you can say anything, Rafe’s already tossing Milo into the air, earning a high-pitched squeal that echoes through the parking lot. You can’t help but watch, feeling that familiar tug of affection as he catches him effortlessly, setting him down in the open passenger door of his truck.

Milo immediately starts pressing all the buttons, making the truck beep and flash like he’s setting off a mini-light show, but Rafe doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He’s leaning back against the side of the truck, crossing his arms as he watches Milo with the prettiest smile on his face. 

Monica finishes loading the last of the bags into her car, and she glances over at the scene unfolding in front of you with a smirk. “He’s a natural, huh?” she says quietly, nudging you with her elbow. 

You try to play it cool, even though your heart’s swelling in your chest. “Yeah, he’s alright,” you joke, but the truth is written all over your face. You’re totally, hopelessly in love with the guy standing there, pretending not to care that Milo’s probably activating every feature his truck has to offer.

Your sister gives you a knowing look, like she can see straight through your attempt to be nonchalant. “Milo’s lucky. He’s got you both wrapped around his little finger.”

You laugh because, yeah, that’s probably true. Milo’s got this charm that no one in your family can resist, and Rafe’s just as guilty of it as you are.

As if on cue, Milo pops his head out of the truck window, eyes wide with excitement. “Unca Rafe, can I honk the horn?”

Rafe shoots you a glance, “Should I let him?”

You sigh dramatically, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Go ahead. Just don’t blame me if he thinks he can do this every time.”

Rafe laughs, reaching over to ruffle Milo’s hair. “Alright, little man. One honk. Make it count.”

Milo slams his tiny hand down on the horn, the loud sound blaring across the parking lot, and you wince even though you knew it was coming. Rafe’s laughing, Milo’s giggling like he’s just pulled off the prank of the century, and you—well, you’re just standing there, taking it all in, wondering how you got so lucky.

It’s moments like this that make you realize how different things are now. Two and a half years ago, if someone had told you that Rafe Cameron—golden boy, Kook prince, with a reputation for being that guy—would be standing here, playing the perfect role of doting uncle to your nephew, you probably would’ve laughed in their face.

But here he is. 

And here you are, watching the two most important boys in your life bond over something as simple as honking a horn. Rafe catches your eye again, his grin softening as Milo scrambles back into the truck, happily babbling to himself about how loud it was.

“Think he’s ready to drive it for real?” Rafe jokes, stepping closer to you.

“Absolutely not,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But thanks for getting him all wound up right before we’re supposed to head home.”

Rafe shrugs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “What can I say? He’s fun to mess with.”

You roll your eyes but lean into him, enjoying the warmth of his touch. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with him next time he demands a honk.”

Rafe chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both watch Milo crawl back over to the driver’s seat, completely mesmerized by the truck’s dashboard, “You know I love it.”

You glance up at him, and for a second, you feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude—like you’ve somehow stumbled into the best version of your life without even realizing it. This is the guy who has seen you at your worst, dealt with your stubborn streak, and still chooses to stick around. And not just stick around—he’s fully here, present, loving your nephew like he’s been part of your family all along.

You can’t believe he only left rehab a month ago. 

“Okay, but seriously,” Monica says, glancing between you and Rafe, “How am I ever going to survive without seeing you being in love every day? It’s sickening.”

You can’t help but snort, nudging Rafe with your shoulder. “Sickening, huh?”

“Pleases,” she rolls her eyes but is smiling. “I can’t believe you’re moving together.”

“Moving in?” Milo suddenly chimes in, his head popping out of the truck window like a jack-in-the-box. “Are you gonna live with Uncle Rafe forever?”

You share a look with Rafe, and he raises his brows in mock surprise. “What? You don’t wanna share her?”

Milo’s eyes widen, contemplating this monumental decision as if it were the biggest thing he’s ever had to think about. “Will I get to come visit?”

“Every day if you want,” Rafe assures him, still grinning as he crouches to Milo’s level again. “You can help us cook and make all the noise you want. We’ll even have a trampoline in the backyard. Sound good?”

Milo claps his hands, clearly sold on the idea. “Yes! And can we have pizza every Friday?”

You chuckle, glancing at Rafe. “I think we can manage that.”

[cameronspecial]

Rafe x reader where they are friends since in diapers, he’s always been super protective of her and when they were younger he acted super though while she was shy, he was kinda like a shield for her. Has they grow up, puberty hits, and obvi Rafe start to get together with girls but he’s still protecting her from guys that she could potentially get with. One day an argument sparks up and he admits he loves her.

Can't Deal With Your Shit

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

They’ve always been there for each other, from diapers to braces to the stress of waiting for university decisions. As Y/N started to enter puberty, Rafe became more protective of her. He hates if she is alone in a room with another man and always tries to intervene when that happens. The mention of her name in any male group gets questioned by him and he won’t let go until the other males promise to let her be. Hypocritically, he lets himself be all over other girls with or without Y/N’s presence. Y/N appreciated his protectiveness as a pre-teen; however, she is now in her early twenties and has never been on a date before because Rafe keeps scaring everyone off. She brings up this point with him a few times, but he always brushes it off saying that she needs his protection from the asshole guys out there. However, she has met her breaking point. They are at a party that his fraternity is hosting and even though he is making out with a girl, he still takes time to send a glare to any guy, who tries to approach Y/N. She decides it is time to make her thoughts clear to the boy and storms over to him. 

When he realizes she is coming over, Rafe sends the brunette he is kissing away. Y/N grabs the back of his collar and starts pulling him upstairs to his bedroom. The door thuds with her harsh shove. She finally lets go of his shirt with a cross of her arms. “I can’t deal with your shit, Rafe. Your protectiveness isn’t cute anymore and it boards on smothering. I’m twenty-one and I’ve never kissed anyone because any guy who so much looks at me is chased away by you!” she screams, annoyance dripping from her voice. Rafe shakes his head, “You don’t get it. Those guys don’t have good intentions. They just want to hurt you.” “No! You don’t understand how it makes me feel so unwanted. How I feel so lonely because while you are off galavanting with all your girls, I am by myself. How you make me think that I’m naive and stupid because I can’t care for myself,” she cries in a raised voice. Her frustration is on display with the tears forming in her eyes and Rafe stands there. His mouth hinges open while he is processing everything his best friend just told him. He can’t believe this is how he made her feel and he is kicking himself for being the reason for her tears. 

She watches as he steps forward to take her into his arms. He presses a kiss to her forehead, resting his chin on her head, “I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way.” He pulls away from her and holds her at arm's length. He pushes her hair away from her face so it rests behind her ear. “I really have been an overbearing asshole, haven’t I?” he begins. “But I need you to know that you aren’t unwanted. That you don’t have to be alone and that I know you can take of yourself.” She looks at him with glossy eyes, “Then why do you do all that?” “Because I’m selfish and can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else, but I also know that I don’t deserve you so I can’t do anything about how I feel about you,” he explains. She takes a step forward, pressing her chest against his, “And how do you feel about me?” “Like every time I look at you, the world stops turning. Like I can’t let any air into my lungs unless you send me your daily good morning text. Like I would burn down the world if you asked me to,” for his last confession he brings his mouth close to his ear. “Like I love you more than anyone in this world.” 

He can see the desire in her eyes and decides to put her out of her misery, connecting their lips in a warm embrace. Her arms wrap themselves around his neck to bring him impossibly closer. She is so glad that she has never kissed anyone else before because it makes this one ten times more meaningful to her. Not only is it her first one, but also the catalyst for her new story with Rafe. One with a little less envying other girls and a little more being the envy of other girls. One where she gets to stand by Rafe’s side as he scares others away, instead of watching him do so from the sidelines.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

[itsmarsss]

a great thing [Miguel Diaz x Fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

(~from the vault~)

He left you a voicemail telling you he had news less than an hour before he was kicked down the second floor.

Word count 3,060

[ . . .]

Exhausted was the word.

For exactly two weeks and two days, you slept on the unbelievably uncomfortable couch in Miguel’s hospital room, adamant about doing so no matter what anyone told you.

And everyone tried to tell you something.

Carmen, Rosa, Sensei, Demetri, Hawk, Aisha (through phone), even Sam. Nothing made you budge: you were staying until he woke up and that was final.

You’d wake up in the morning, have lunch with Carmen and Rosa, talk to him in hopes that he could hear you, go home, take a shower, change, get back and repeat. Every single day.

Every day was harder.

Every friend that came to visit with that look on their face, every visit from Sensei, every time his mom would break down crying and beg for him to make it through, every prayer from his grandma, every one-sided conversation you’d have with him as he stayed unconscious. Everything was harder these days.

So yeah, you were exhausted.

Sometimes Hawk would bring you lunch for you to share, and he’d distract you with conversation that he’d occasionally include Miguel in with a “you hear that, man?” or something of the sort, which made you smile.

Or Demetri would bring you comic books to keep you entertained, staying a couple hours at a time and silently reading beside you to keep you company.

Aisha called every day to check in and Sam visited once in a while. Sensei Lawrence visited all the time, his mom and Yaya were obviously always there, even Daniel LaRusso visited once. But nothing really felt like real company when Miguel was there but not really there.

You’d been spending day after day without your best friend and you were starting to grow a sort of anger towards everyone and everything, replaying the fight over and over in your head and growing more and more irritated as the days went by. God help Robby Keene if he ever got face to face with you.

And then Miguel woke up.

After two entire weeks and almost everyone around you losing hope, he woke up, while you were asleep. You woke up scared, groggy, confused about all the noise: the loud beeping, the yells, the motioning, the sudden amount of people in the room, Carmen yelling Miguel’s name- oh no, was he… no, his mom wasn’t yelling out of despair. She was happy.

And you realized it: he was awake.

He was awake!

He was awake and trying to talk and god damn you couldn’t see a thing through the tears and it was like you were paralyzed, unable to move as you processed the situation, barely believing what was happening. This had to be a dream, it had to be, but it wasn’t!

The day after that, you slept in the hospital room yet again. In the same unbelievably uncomfortable couch, but you slept way, way more comfortably than the nights before. The usual ‘good night’ directed at him every night was met with a smile this time.

The day after that one, you went home. For the first time in two weeks and three days, you slept in a bed. Your two-week suspension was already done with, but you let yourself sleep well into the afternoon.

Everything that happened during the days after that was a blur, nothing short of a rollercoaster. You cried silently while Miguel and you watched as a doctor told his mom he would maybe never be able to walk again and you hugged Hawk tight when he told you he’d gathered money to help pay for the medical costs and you went back to sleeping on the couch in the cold hospital room after the surgery.

And then the day came. Miguel was finally out, and you couldn’t even believe it.

He deserved a great thing, for a change.

“Holy shit! You haven’t seen actual sunlight in so long! How’s it feel?”

“Yeah I kinda feel like a vampire,” he remarked, covering his eyes from the sun with his hands. Carmen and Rosa walked within a distance behind the two of you as you pushed his wheelchair forward.

“You know you don’t have to push me?”

“Yeah but it’s fun.”

“Not more fun than being the one riding the wheelchair.”

“Oh we’re bragging? Push yourself then.” You pretended to be mad and retrieved your hands from the handles, crossing your arms in front of your chest in fake indignation, and he turned the chair to face you, feigning offence.

“Wow I thought you’d go easier on me after everything!”

“I would never go easy on you.”

“Wait! I just had the best idea.”

“Okay?” You said as for him to go on, not entirely trusting him.

“Sit on my lap.”

“What?” You ignored the burning feeling on your cheeks, blaming it on weirdness of the proposition, not what he was telling you to do.

“Sit on my lap! If you’re so jealous I’ll take you with me.”

“No way.”

“Why?”

Yeah, why? “Because- because we’re so gonna fall!”

“No we’re not! Do you not trust me?”

“I don’t, actually!” You let out a laugh.

“Shut up!” He exclaimed, smiling that smile of his.

Yeah, that one. Could you really say no to that? “Oh, my God,” you muttered, but did as he said, carefully sitting yourself down on his thighs.

“Okay, ready?”

“No?”

“Wrong answer!” He pulled on the wheels fast, picking up speed, and you had to support yourself by wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Miggy! Don’t do that!” His mom yelled after you, and you both laughed, out of breath with the adrenaline, when he stopped.

You waited as Rosa and Carmen walked up to you, only noticing you were still on his lap when Rosa shot you a funny look.

[ . . . ]

“Oh my God, Carmen, this is so good!” You exclaimed as you ate, Miguel agreeing with you eagerly by nodding his head.

“Thank you, mija! I missed having dinner with my baby,” she added, smiling at Miguel.

“We’ve had dinner together every day since I woke up!”

“Not proper dinner at the table! Different things, Miggy.”

As dramatic as it sounds, you couldn’t help but think about how utterly alive Miguel made all three of you.

You finished the food quickly and took off to Miguel’s room. You both laid on his bed on opposite ends, both facing the ceiling, in a comfortable silence that came after about an hour of talking about random things.

You propped yourself up by your elbows to face him. “Do you want me to stay over?”

He tilted his head to look back at you. “What?”

“If you want me to. I know it’s your first night out and all-”

"Why wouldn’t I want you to?” He smiled, and you couldn’t fight a smile yourself.

Then there was a knock on the door. “Guys?”

“Yeah mom?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah!”

With that, Carmen opened the door immediately, smiling at the sight of the two of you. “Just making sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, mom,” he laughed. She’d been checking in way more often than usual, but Miguel understood. He always understood.

"Just asking,” she smiled. “Do you need me to take you home, sweetheart?” She asked you, and you turned to Miguel, sharing a look that silently told him ‘I’m not the one asking her!’

“Um can Y/N stay over tonight? Just tonight?”

“Yeah of course! Sweetheart you know you can always stay over. I’ll bring you some blankets, we can-”

“Anything’s fine! Really.”

“Oh honey I’m sorry you won’t be comfortable-”

“It’s alright, promise!” You reassured her, and she was back with about 5 blankets in no time, laying four on the floor right next to Miguel’s bed for you to lay on and handing the fifth to you for you to cover yourself with, along with a pillow too.

[. . .]

You were both stupidly tired-- and reasonably so- but neither of you could sleep. You tossed and turned around on your make-shift blanket mattress but just couldn’t seem to find a comfortable enough position, sighing in frustration at the empty tries.

“You okay?” Miguel spoke up in a whisper, scaring you. Wasn’t he asleep?

“Did I wake you up?”

“No. Was awake.”

“Can’t sleep either?”

“Is it the floor?”

“No, it’s fine-”

“You wanna come up here?”

“What?”

“I think there’s room for the two of us. I’m not that ripped, you know, I don’t take up that much space” he joked.

You chewed on your bottom lip, unsure if this was a good idea. "You sure?”

“Yeah it’s fine.”

As you went silent, deciding on what to actually do, you head Miguel shifting his body around to try and make room for you.

“Just- just climb up here.”

You got up and did as he said, struggling to make yourself fit in the bed with him. "This isn’t gonna work,” you commented.

“Yes it is, wait,” he moved your shoulders, turning your back to him, and scooted closer to the wall to make more space for you.

“Isn’t this uncomfortable for you? It’s gonna give you pressure sores.”

“How do you know about pressure sores?”

“I pay attention to what your doctors say!”

“Stop worrying!” You could hear him smiling as he whispered to you. “My legs are positioned right, if you wanna know so bad.”

“Fine. But you better not be lying.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’m… not gonna invite you to my ninth birthday party.”

“Okay that’s way too low even for you.”

“Yeah so I’d be careful.”

“Copy that.”

It was all peacefully quiet for no more than about twenty seconds before he started moving his arms around.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where to-” he moved his arm around, settling on placing it around your waist, carefully. “Is this okay?”

You felt yourself inhale a sharp breath. It should be okay. Right? It should be completely and totally chill and fine and normal. “Yeah it’s fine.” You didn’t know if he had heard the hesitation in your voice, but he questioned you again.

“Is this weird?”

“What do you mean?”

“This? We’re kinda cuddling.”

“Why, is it weird for you? I- I can go back to the blankets-” you were already moving to stand up but he pulled you closer to his body by your waist.

“No! I- I mean- it’s not. I’m just asking. Cause I don't want you to be uncomfortable. This is fine.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure you’re not uncomfortable? You know you don’t have to lie right?”

“No, I'm not! I promise. This is… nice. Uh- you know what I mean.”

You didn’t, exactly. “Yeah.”

Silence again.

“Did you actually sleep on that couch every night?”

"Why are you thinking about that?"

"'Cause we're talking about being comfortable and that did not look comfortable."

You laughed. “Yeah it wasn't exactly the best sleep of my life."

“Was it better than my bedroom floor?”

You let out a loud laugh and elbowed his chest slightly. “Your mom was very nice for setting that up for me!”

“Hey don’t hit me! I just got out of the hospital!”

“Oh that’s very sweet of you to think I care.”

“Oh I know you care! ‘Cause someone slept in the hospital for two weeks for me.”

“Okay, okay, let’s get back to talking about your bedroom floor.”

“No take backs! You were worried about me.”

“Yeah no shit.” Your tone wasn't playful anymore.

He paused. “I’m sorry I scared you like that.”

“Dude, you’re the one who got pushed down the second floor. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yeah,” he let out a weak laugh. “I guess.”

God, these silent pauses were getting unbearable. “What were you gonna tell me?”

“What?” He questioned, clearly confused.

“You left me a voicemail. Before- you know.”

“Yeah. Right.” Was his heart actually beating a little faster or were you imagining it?

“I know it’s probably something stupid that probably doesn’t matter now, that’s- that’s why I didn’t mention before but-”

“But?”

“It’s stupid.”

"You can tell me.”

“I uh. I replayed it a lot. While you were- you know.”

“You did?”

You couldn’t believe he sounded so surprised. Was it that surprising that you wanted to hear his voice again while was in a coma for weeks?

“I mean it was kind of the last thing you said to me before it happened. I didn’t actually talk to you that day so.” When he didn’t say anything, you tried to lighten up the mood, cursing yourself for bringing it down. “I’ve even got it memorized!”

“No you don’t,” he laughed.

“I do!”

“No way!”

“Do too!” You fake-gasped feigning being offended, turning around to face him- startling yourself for a half-second when you realized how close your face was to his, causing you to turn a bit more to lie on your back so you could face the ceiling instead of him, though he very much hadn’t let go of your waist in the process.

You once again set your mind elsewhere to avoid thinking about it too intently, clearing your throat dramatically before imitating the way he spoke.

“‘Um. Hey. Sorry I didn’t walk with you today. I’m not- I’m not ignoring you or anything. I just- I figured something really important out last night and I- I was gonna tell you like… 10 minutes ago but I didn’t- shit I have five more seconds anyway I’ll tell you at lunch bye-’ and then you got cut off.”

“Holy shit. I don’t even remember what I said word for word like that.”

“You had other things going on,” you joked, looking at him (though not turning your body to face him again yet) for a moment before averting your eyes to the ceiling again.

“You replayed it every day?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s cute.”

“Shut up. So… what is it? You made me wait for weeks, you need to tell me!"

He shifted a bit. “Uhhhh-”

“Come oooonn, you seemed excited about it!”

“Yeah but it’s not- it’s not that big of a deal.”

Now you’d gained back enough composure to actually turn your head to look at him. “You said it was really important!”

“I… didnt?” He tried.

You only quirked an eyebrow up at him. He sighed.

“Did you actually get back with Sam? Is that it?”

“What?”

“I mean Tory was obviously pretty pissed. And the same day barely half an hour before all that happens you tell me you’ve got big news?”

“I’m not back with Sam.”

“I’m not gonna judge you if you are! Well I am actually. Obviously. But not that bad!”

“I’m not with Sam!”

“So Tory really did all that for nothing?”

“I mean, kind of? I did break up with her the night before. Right before Sam found me. And then Sam kissed me and guess Tory saw it but- we didn’t- we didn’t get back together.”

“What was it you wanted to say then?”

Silence.

“Did you get yourself in something? Is it bad?”

“I- I’m in love with you.” He was so quiet you almost didn't hear him.

“I mean it seems-” wait. “what?”

He let go of your waist, pushing his body up so he could sit down, you doing the same. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t gonna tell you like this. That’s- pretty obvious, but- I even. I left sensei a voicemail about it too-”

Non-stopping rambling from his part, complete silence from yours.

“I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you like this and it’s- it’s fine if you don’t-”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“Shut up. Just- for a second.”

“Oh- okay.” He stopped the rambling, but his widened stare kept itself trained on yours, as if trying to pry your thoughts out of your head through them.

You took a deep breath, trying to rationalize out loud what he’d just told you. “You’re in love with me. That’s what you were gonna tell me.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know?"

He seemed taken aback by the question. It was understandable that it was not the first think he would've imagined you to say in return of his confession. “How do I- know? I guess. I guess Sam kissed me that day. And I tried to kiss her back to see if there was anything still there, but there… wasn’t. And I had like just broken up with Tory for that exact same reason. I was dating these girls I didn’t have feelings for and I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t have feelings for them.”

“'Cause you’re in love with me,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

“I mean- yeah. I’m sorry. I can- I can sleep on the couch if you want-”

That snapped you out of your trance-like confused state. “I’m not making you sleep on the couch, idiot!”

“But-”

“Are you sure? Like 100%?”

“Yeah, but-” It was impulsive, and you knew you probably should’ve said something before doing it, but what better way to show him you liked him back- as you’d just figured out yourself that very moment- than kissing him? So you did just that: you kissed him. In the dark, in his room, on his bed, with a million different problems to deal with, but that little moment, with him smiling against your lips, that was yours. A tiny little great thing in the middle of the chaos around you.

Yet another silence followed after you slowly pulled away from him, but this one was comfortable, content.

Miguel smiled at you. “So does this mean you like me back ooor?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, smiling too, before pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again. You could definitely, without a doubt, get used to this.

“We’ve been friends for years and we haven’t done this before?” He asked, out of breath, when you pulled away again and you laughed, feeling light as a feather.

“We should go to sleep, Diaz." You teased. "Your mom’s gonna get mad at me if you don’t sleep enough.”

“I am so in love with you.”

“Aw you have a crush on me? that’s embarrassing.”

“Shut up!”

"Yeah, yeah I'm in love with you too or whatever."

Maybe you deserved a great thing for a change too.

[rottingparts]

If you've seen the 2018 Bumblebee, could you do Bumblebee's reaction to his s/o being scared of him after seeing him get angry and his eyes turn red in that one scene where he fights those army soldiers and shoots everything. After Bumblebee turns back to normal, and reaches for them, His s/o backs away from him out of fear not wanting to go near him and runs away. ( temporarily from being scared and needs to collect themselves) how would Bumblebee react to seeing them be afraid of him?

I love scary Bee... he is scary and that's kinda hot... I wrote headcanons and also a fic that is under the read more!! Reader is GN!!

Bumblebee... Is devastated!

He didn't want to scare you... he was worried you were going to die and ew can't have that!

When he reverts to normal and grabs for you and you flinch back... Oh boy does he realize what he's done.

When he sees you running away his spark stops.

You're freaking out, wondering what went wrong (military found you, that's what went wrong...) and then see Bee crouched a little ways from you.

He is so willing to do literally whatever to make you feel better.

He reaches for you again, and you reach for him this time.

Never wants to make you this upset again. The absolute fear in your eyes?? Never wants to be the cause of that again.

When you get inside his alt mode, he will let you talk about what happened. He lets you vent and tell him how you felt. So receptive and understands why you were afraid.

Genuinely so sweet and tries his best to make you feel better.

-_-_-_-_-_-

“It’s okay!” You reassured the military surrounding you. “He isn’t going to hurt anyone!”

Your arms were up and you were trying to be calm. Your voice cracks were giving away your fear.

“Step away from the robot!” One of the men shouted.

You didn’t budge. Instead, you stood there motionless. Fear had kicked in fully, and instead of running or fighting… you were frozen. Your eyes widened even more when you noticed them closing in on you.

You were snatched up from in front of Bee, who was still being polite and quiet. Like you had asked of him in case anything like this were to ever happen.

“Remember, my love,” You would point up at him, “If anything ever happens, we have to stay civil! I don’t want something happening to you…”

So, he would be civil. For now.

You struggled slightly, your head turning towards Bee. When you saw other soldiers pulling out weird rods, you were growing panicked.

“No!” You screamed, “I promise! He isn’t hurting anything- He won’t hurt anything!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, the soldiers began to electrocute him. A scream ripped from your throat, and your struggling became more violent. You kicked and screamed and your foot hit hard against the soldier's shin. Suddenly, you were flung from the soldier’s arms and you hit the ground hard.

You let out a loud cry and looked over at Bee, who was being held down by the soldiers. You looked back up at the soldier who had been holding you down, and noticed he had something in his hand. A taser.

“Fuck.”

Briefly, you were unable to move. You were processing and it wasn’t computing. When the soldier was over you, fight or flight really hit, and you were fighting. Violently. You grabbed the soldier's wrist and tried to redirect his hand. Your knuckles were white in an instant and you felt like you were fighting for your life.

“Please!” You screamed, hoping he would hear you over all the commotion, “We were just hanging out in the desert!”

When the soldier grabbed your wrist with his free hand and broke your grip, you were sent into a bigger panic. You began to wail. You were pleading for release. For the military to leave you alone. And then, Bee’s name left your mouth. A loud, unmistakable shriek for Bee. For your boyfriend.

That’s all it took.

Your eyes shut tight, and you waited for the taser to hit your side. The shouting around you turned into screams of terror and suddenly you couldn’t hear the loud cracking of electricity anymore. You swallowed hard and when the soldier above you yelled, you opened your eyes and saw the soldier was gone, and Bee was standing over you. His gun pointed at the military and his stance was firm. Your eyes met his, and your stomach turned.

His optics were red and his brow ridges were furrowed. He was pissed. With good reason. And, you were terrified. Also with good reason.

“Bee…” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

He did not listen. He began to blast the soldiers surrounding the two of you. Their vehicles became caught in the crossfire. Bee moved himself over you and became a shield between you and the soldiers. They were dying, their vehicles were bursting into flames, and all you could do was think ‘It’s okay! He isn’t going to hurt anyone!’.

“Bee!” Your voice was louder now. But he was still shooting. Shooting at soldiers who were definitely retreating at that point.

“Bumblebee! Stop!”

Your voice was sharp. It was loud and full of command. Bee came to a halt. The remaining soldiers got into the remaining vehicles and promptly left. You stood up, your gut wrenching and your legs barely holding you.

Bee turned towards you, optics still red. You blinked up at him. And briefly wondered if he, your cute alien robot boyfriend, was about to murder you. His optics go back to blue and you take a step back. He leaned down and began to reach for you.

Once you flinched back, Bee did too. He retracted his servo and cocked his head at you. Adrenaline was still going strong, and fight or flight was still kicking, and you were not about to fight Bee.

You took off running in the opposite direction. The desert really didn’t have too many safe places to hide, but you did find a large rock. You pulled out your phone, a special one Optimus had made for you. You could reach the bots at any given time.

“Optimus!” Your voice was hushed, and you were trembling. “Please! The military found us! I don’t-”

The sound of metal beside you caught your attention and you gulped. Bumblebee was a few feet from you. He wanted to give you space, but he wanted to be close so badly. He was crouched down and his optics watched you closely. They were still blue.

“Is everything alright?” Optimus’ voice came through the phone.

You wanted to say no, instead you hung and looked at Bee. Your back was against the rock. Your breath caught in your throat, and suddenly you couldn't swallow. You knew deep down Bee was not going to hurt you, but watching him fire at those men, that was fear inducing. Watching him become someone you didn't know was terrifying.

“I- Won’t hurt you.” Bee switched through his radio channels to talk to you.

He reached out for you, once more, his movements slower and slightly more mindful. You inhaled sharply and reached out for his servo. Bee seemed to beam when you reached for him. He gently pulled you up, helping you stand. He was quick to dust you off, sand covered your back and butt.

“Hey!” A yell came from a few yards away. You looked towards the direction the voice came from. Crosshairs… “What happened?”

You blinked a few times and looked back at Bee. “We were trying to have a date.”

“Date doing what?” Crosshairs examined the destruction. “Blowing up military vehicles?”

Optimus and Drift rolled in behind Crosshair, quickly transforming from their alt modes.

“Are you alright?” Optimus neared you and Bee, “You sounded scared.”

“I’m-” You paused, “We’re okay... Thanks to Bee.”

“Glad to see you are both okay… We’ll need to figure this out… Also,” Optimus looked at you, crouching down, “never hang up on me again.”

Bee moved himself in between the both of you and you only nodded.

“We need to get back to Cade’s.”

“I’ll go with Bee.” You looked up at him,and he made a beeping noise, almost a chirping sound.

“Obviously,” Crosshairs rolled his eyes, “you two are-”

“Shut. Up!” Drift interrupted. “I don’t want to know what they do!”

Bee transformed into alt mode and his door opened. You were quick to get inside. “Can we talk about that back there? I think I need to process all of that..”

[swans-chirping-in-the-distance]

Can we stop with the myth that Keefe runs away every 5 seconds. He ran away twice. Literally twice.

The first time was because the abused (he didn't have stability growing up. The best was from the vackers who seemed TOO perfect to Keefe and it was kinda like they were rubbing their perfection in his face from his pov. Also- he met them when he was like 10ish) 14yo (he wouldn't be allowed to get his permit yet if he were a human!!) found out his mom (the "better" parent) and his idol were part of the kidnapping awful gang willing to torture children and he was so desperate to find a way to try to stop them and so guilty about it that he tried to infiltrate them from the inside. It was stupid, it was reckless, but can we not hate him for it? He was a guilty child.

Second time was when his mom (who he still feels guilty about!!) experimented on him (again) and kidnapped his friend and forced him to help (the process was excruciating!!) and it gave him freakish abilities he couldn't control (that could make someone listen to him by word of mouth) and so he left to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt anyone, while also making use of himself by trying to figure out more about the murdering gang. He was like 16 btw.

Like yeah they weren't the right decision but seriously he was a child and he feels bad and honestly I feel like he wasn't far off the second time.

[queer-n-here]

HEY

ITS THE ANON THAT ASKED FOR FYODOR X MUSCULAR READER

ERMMMM

IF ITS OKAY CAN I HAVE THAT NOW BUT SMUT

PLEASE

( im not desperate i promise )

-🦅 ( eagle emoji anon cs rahh america )

Yeah brotha, ofc!

Also, welcome to the anon fam. Here we go, Fyodor smut. (And guess what? I'm writing this in my mom's school so like... pray that I don't caught)

Also, I'm gonna do your Kunikida req, too, just gimme like a day or two, yeah? Hope you like it, even though it kinda got OOC.

Contents: You walk in on Fyodor fingering himself to the thought of you, and then you fuck the poor anemic man.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, nipple play, OOC Fyodor.

Fyodor was almost ready to get on his knees and beg.

It was probably the first time in his entire life that he'd ever been so desperate.

It had all started that one day when you'd picked him up for the first time, and ever since then his skull could only contain one thought: you. Any and all attempts at a distraction were futile. After trying for weeks, Fyodor gave up on them.

His only solace was the handful of hours when he'd be asleep. Lately, however, you'd started haunting his dreams, too, plaguing them with thoughts and images of you that grew filthier and filthier each time. Gods, what were you doing to him? And how were you doing it? Was this a part of your ability? To hypnotize someone and make them lose control of their senses?

Even know, rutting pitifully against the pile of blankets in your room, Fyodor's glazed eyes could see you. Your huge form, towering over his own. Your ginormous hands tracing his skin, gripping his waist and rubbing his nipples.

His naked chest came in contact with the bed sheets, and he threw his head and moaned, pathetic dick rubbing back and forth against the soon to be stained sheets.

But it wasn't enough. It wasn't even nearly enough.

Fyodor licked his fingers slick, then reached back to insert the first one into his achingly empty hole, trying to convince himself that it was your finger his hole was fluttering around. He shut his eyes, seeing you against the back of his eyelids instead.

Pre-cum dribbled down his shaft as his shoulders shook, his free hand clenching desperately at the sheets. Gasps and moans spilled from his red and bitten lips, and all of a sudden his fingers hit a certain spot.

Fyodor's back arched, a particularly loud moan leaving his mouth. He slipped in a second finger, hand moving faster now. He bit down on the sheets beneath his head, muffling his cries against the fabric as he found himself tipping over the edge soon. As his cum hit the sheets, so did his body. His poor anemic body couldn't hold for any longer.

He rolled over onto his back instead, dazed eyes opening slowly, and taking a moment to process what they were seeing.

You.

For a moment Fyodor almost believed that he had now gone insane. But it was too real to be an illusion, you were too real.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to grab the sheets beneath him and try to cover himself with them. You were faster, though, ripping the sheets out of his grasp and letting them fall onto the floor.

This was going to be fun.

Not that you had expected to see Fyodor like this when you opened the door of his room. I mean, sure, maybe you could blame that on your habit of not knocking, or maybe even his of not locking his door. But you were glad you two did that, how else would you have ended up in his room, smirk growing on your face as you took in his condition.

Fyodor was still trying to reach for the sheets, but you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head, making him fall onto the bed on his back with a huff.

"Fyodor," Your eyes had an unusual darkness to them, one that set the alarms blaring in his head. "What were you doing?"

Fyodor tried to struggle out of your grasp, his weak body fighting against yours to no avail as a deep red blush rose through his flesh. "...It's none of your business!"

"Isn't it?" You tilted your head, face inches away from his. "You said my name."

Fyodor froze. "W-what?"

"You called for me," You repeated. "And you were loud, too. I thought you were hurt somewhere."

His pale skin reddened further, and he turned to look away from your blazing eyes, but you grabbed his chin and made him look at you.

"Were you thinking about me?" The smirk had returned to your face, and your eyes were hungrily roaming over Fyodor's body. "You were fucking your hole with your fingers like a little bitch in heat; were you pretending they were mine?"

Fyodor's breath hitched. Being caught like this before he had even come down from his previous high was intimidating, but also strangely arousing. He let you loom over him, your huge body almost completely hiding his against the bed.

"Answer me, Fyodor," You said.

And he couldn't do anything but nod, cheeks flaming. You leaned forwards and kissed him, smiling slightly. He gasped again, surprised, eyes wide and hands falling limp in your hold. You let them go, placing your hands on his waist instead as you pressed him into the bed, tongue invading his mouth.

"W-what are you doing?" Fyodor pulled away just long enough to ask.

"Hmm," You hummed against his lips, pulling back and sitting on the bed to take of your clothes. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Fyodor's breath hitched, his skinny body shifting against yours. You finished stripping, leaning down to kiss him full on the lips again, this time more passionate. He fisted his hands in your shirt, pulling you closer weakly.

You sighed softly, reaching forward to trace the curve of his neck, the dip of his collarbone. Pulling away, you lowered your head to kiss there instead, leaving marks in the wake of your fingertips. Fyodor moaned, screwing his eyes shut against the feeling of your lips on his skin.

"[Name]," He panted, biting his lips to stop himself from moaning too loud.

"Hmm?" You pulled away from his collarbone, raising your head to look at him. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

Fyodor's eyes widened slightly at the pet name, but he wrapped his arms around your neck all the same. "Please, fuck me..."

And who were you to deny him?

He'd prepped himself just fine, and, aligning your tip with his leaking hole, you were able to slide in your member relatively easily. You started slow, thrusting into him gently at first, trying to give him time to adjust himself.

"[Name]." Fyodor moaned, brows furrowed. "Nggh, f-faster, please!"

You obliged him, speeding up considerably as you lifted his legs, wrapping them around your waist before placing your hands on either side of his head. Fyodor was clenching around you with each thrust, each nudge of your tip against his soft and tight walls making his toes curl.

Your hips snapped against his, and his back arched, thrusting his nipples up into your face. You kissed them readily, licking and biting and teasing to your heart's content as the man beneath you squirmed and panted and moaned.

"Fyodor," You said, teeth gritted against the feeling of Fyodor around you. "Does it feel good, hmm? Tell me, d'you like it when I fuck you like this?"

Fyodor's eyes were blurred up with tears, his eyes blown out and wide, making him look like he wouldn't be able to process anything but your cock in his ass for the life of him. Still, he nodded frantically. "S-so good, hah! Mmph, [Name]! Feels so... so good..."

You rolled your hips, pounding into him with a rhythm so heavenly, it had Fyodor seeing stars. One thrust in particular hit somewhere so soft inside him, he cried out, and you shifted to hit that spot again. His grip on your shoulders tightened, head falling back to expose his beautiful neck.

You leaned down to kiss it, rolling your hips and bullying his prostrate. His nails were burying into your skin, moans growing louder and louder by the minuted in a way that told you he was close.

And sure enough, pretty soon Fyodor was trying to speak through his lewd noises. You understood his meaning even when his words were barely coherent. Speeding up, you bit his shoulder, making him cry out in a mixture of pain of pleasure so intense all other thoughts were wiped out from his brain.

He reached his orgasm, hips bucking up into yours as a cry ripped itself free from his throat. You slowed down to a stop even as your cock throbbed at the feeling of Fyodor clenching around you so tight it almost made you lose control.

He huffed and panted beneath you, using one hand to cover his face. You gently pried it away, planting a kiss on his forehead. You waited for him to come down from his high, peppering kisses on his face softly.

He raised a hand to place on your chest to stop you, giggling softly. "You..." He hesitated slightly. "You haven't finished yet, right?"

You had been ignoring your throbbing dick for a while now, trying to remain still despite the desire building in your gut.

You shook your head.

Fyodor flushed slightly. His arms had fallen limply onto the bed when he'd came, and now they rose to wrap themselves around your neck again.

"Go on, then. You can... do it till you cum."

And being as restless as you were, you immediately began moving again.

[archangeldyke-all]

OH MY GOODNESS, so trans Sevika yes yes, AND READERS FIRST TIME AND THEIR LIKE not to deep in the relationship but still kinda early so sevika is like soft and stuff. AND WHEN THEIR DONE READER TURNS AND IS LIKE “I love you sevika, your the prettiest woman ive ever seen” AND SEVIKA IS TAKEN BACK. Considering how hard trans women get it in society and how rarely they get compliments and are excepted. PLS 😆

She’s so pretty 🫣😮‍💨

FUCK yes omg. gonna combine this with another ask!

Can we get more reader strapping needy Sev 🥺 your club mom fic was so hot

🍄 anon

(also hiii mushroom anon it's been a minute babe hope ur doing good!!)

men and minors dni

"do you, uh..." sevika trails off, her eyes getting caught on your lips.

you guys have been making out on her couch for about an hour now, messily moaning into one another's mouths as you try to get impossibly closer to each other.

"do i what?" you ask, licking your lips as you take in the beautiful sight of sevika beneath you. she's flushed, her chest heaving, her hair messy and shirt wrinkled from your hands. she looks beautiful.

sevika huffs beneath you, her eyes darting away. you realize you'd said that compliment aloud, whispered under your breath. "do you wanna... go to my bedroom?" she asks quietly.

you grin.

you've been dating for four months now, but sevika's never been with someone beyond a quick hookup, and in an effort to do it right and avoid overwhelming either of you, you both agreed to take it slow.

it's been torturous for both of you. but, totally fucking worth it. especially now, as you grin down at your girlfriend and watch her smile start to grow.

"like... for sex?" you ask.

sevika snorts. "yeah, babe." she giggles.

you jump off of her, sprinting toward her bedroom. sevika cackles as she jogs behind you to catch up.

you push her onto the bed and jump on top of her again, moaning against her mouth as you settle your weight on top of her. sevika's hands find your waist, pulling you until you're flat against her, chest to knees. she's hard against you, and you shuffle around on top of her, giggling at the way she whimpers.

"how do you wanna do this, baby?" you ask. sevika's eyes are hazy with lust, and it takes her a second to process your words. when she does, a flash of bashfulness taking over her features for a second before she hides it behind a look of false bravado. you know her well enough to see right through it, and lean down to kiss her again before she can answer, biting her lower lip, relishing in the way she shivers beneath you. "don't fuckin' lie to me." you grunt against her mouth.

sevika's face screws up, and her hands drop from your hips to claw at the sheets below her. you watch her mentally fight the urge to put on her 'brave face'-- something you've been working on together. it's cute seeing the way she slowly relaxes as she gives up her fake confidence.

"...i, um." she starts. you duck down to kiss her cheek, encouraging her to continue. "i've only ever topped, before." she whispers. you kiss her forehead.

"i know." you say. "that's not what i asked."

sevika gulps, and you kiss her lips, encouraging her. when you pull away, she blinks up at you with stars in her eyes. "i prepped before our date." she whispers, her voice cracking halfway through her sentence. you grin, and let her slip her tongue past your lips on her reward-kiss this time.

"so?" you ask when you pull away. sevika glares up at you, and you smirk. "you still didn't answer my question, sev." you tease. she groans, then flips the pair of you over, pinning you to the bed and pressing her lips to yours. you chuckle, wrapping your arms and legs around sevika's body as she tries to buy herself time from being vulnerable. god forbid.

eventually, though, she pulls away with a gasp, her cheeks and tips of her ears rosy as she blinks down at your collarbone. "i want you to fuck me." she mumbles.

you smile so big you think your face might split in half. sevika groans, flopping down to bury her embarrassed face against your tits.

"i wore my strap-harness under my pants." you admit. sevika's head pops back up for her to gawk down at you and you giggle, shrugging. "just had a feeling."

(you've actually been wearing your harness to the past ten dates you and sevika have been on, just in case-- but she doesn't need to know that.)

sevika's blush gets even redder and she groans. "fuck!" she whines against you. "babe, shut up." she whines as she starts pawing at your pants, trying to see for herself. you giggle, lifting your hips up and helping her strip you. sevika freezes when she pulls your pants down, gulping at the sight of the straps hugging your hips peeking out of your underwear. "fuck." she whispers. "c-can i get you naked?" she asks.

you grin and nod, and sevika wastes no time stripping you. she presses kisses everywhere, no inch of your skin goes untouched, and you can't stop laughing. you're so happy you could die.

when she's got you naked sans the strappy harness on your hips, sevika's takes a second to just... look at you beneath her. you let her, smiling up at your girlfriend's sweet expression.

then, like a flip's switched, sevika's eyes go from soft to dark, and a smirk quirks up on her lips.

she jumps off of you, running over to her dresser to pull open the bottom drawer. you sit up on your elbows to watch her, giggling as she curses and rummages through the drawer in search of something. then, she gasps, jumps up, and grins as she presents you with her treasures.

in her left hand, she holds a bottle of lube. in her right, a dildo.

you burst into giggles, making grabby hands as sevika crawls back on to the bed with her prizes. "...this is my favorite one." she admits shyly.

you examine the dildo, bright purple and curved up a bit. a click floats through the room, and then the dildo hums to life. you grin.

"that's hot." you giggle. sevika grins.

"can i put it on for you?" she asks, nodding at your harness. you nod.

sevika gets distracted. her gentle, nervous fumbling with the straps of your harness turn into her caressing the skin beneath it, which turns into her forgetting the dildo completely and pressing a trail of kisses on your inner thighs, which of course, inevitably leads to her blinking up at you with glittering silver eyes and asking in a voice that's so raspy it gives you shivers: "can i taste you?"

"fuck." you answer, your heartrate skyrocketting. "yes."

sevika grins, then dives forward to taste you.

she groans the moment her tongue is on you. you gasp, your hands flying down to tug at her hair. it only makes her groan more.

"shit, sevika--" you whine as she sucks on your clit, one of her hands traveling up your body to play with your tits. "i-i thought i was gonna be f-f-fuckin you." you whine as she starts to work her tongue inside of you.

sevika pulls away with a quick gasp to smile at you again. "we'll get to that. i've been wanting to do this for months." she grunts, spitting on your cunt.

the action makes you so horny you get lightheaded.

worried you might cum before you even get sevika shirtless, you give her hair a harsh tug and pull her back up your body. she pouts at you as you try to catch your breath and find your words.

"f-fuck." you whimper.

"why'd you stop me?"

"'cause i was gonna cum on your fuckin' face after, like, a lick and a half!"

sevika bursts into laughter, and you grin up at her smiling face. your heart swells, and you reach up to cup sevika's cheek, adoration coursing through your body. "i'm going back down there when we're done, y'know." sevika says. you grin.

"well, i look forward to it baby. now, if you don't mind, will you please help me put my cock on?" you ask. sevika snorts, gives you a quick peck, and then reaches out to do just that.

with the dildo on, your focus returns to your girlfriend. you gently push her shoulders, and she flops onto her back easily, her eyes tracking your every movement as you crawl on top of her.

you love her. you've known this since your third date, when sevika asked you nervously if she was 'holding your hand right,' worried that she was somehow doing it wrong, having never done it before in her life.

but you've never felt it as much as you do right in this moment.

"god." you whisper in awe, bending down to kiss her forehead. "i'm so fucking lucky, sevika." you mumble, starting a trail of kisses down her body. the next stop is her nose, then her lips. you linger here, kissing away the insecure look that flashes over her face at your words, before continuing your path.

a kiss to her chin. a kiss to the center of her throat, where you can feel the skin vibrate with her gentle hum. one to the soft patch of skin between her collarbones, and then you pull away and look up at her. "k-keep going." sevika whimpers.

you smile, unbutton the top button on her shirt, then continue your path.

a kiss to the top of each of her tits, one to the pretty little bow decorating the center of her bra. another button undone, and a dozen kisses to her ribs and stomach. another button, and you let a shaky sigh out at the sight of her happy trail, before trailing your tongue all the way up, circling her bellybutton before gently nipping her tummy.

sevika squeaks, jumping, and then you're both giggling.

you sit up to help her out of her shirt and bra, then take a second to ogle her tits.

"baby." sevika groans.

"fuck." you whisper.

"c'mon! you've seen my tits before!" sevika whines, tugging at the strap on your hip, impatient. you giggle.

"and it rocks my world each time, baby." you tease. sevika grunts, rolling her eyes and doing a horrible job of hiding her fond smile. you take mercy on her, continuing your path of kisses.

a few at the soft skin above her waist band, then the button of her jeans popped open in your hands.

sevika's squirming beneath you as you slowly unzip her fly. your eyes are trained on her bulge, and as the firm denim fabric of her jeans gets pulled away, it starts to twitch in her boxers. your mouth salivates.

"can i kiss it?" you ask.

sevika squeaks, and you look up at her, concerned.

you have no reason to be. sevika looks like she's just run a marathon, and her eyes are so big and excited she looks like a dog that just heard the word 'walk.'

"yes." she whispers. you smile, tug her boxers down, and groan when her cock springs out, smacking her abs before twitching in time with her heartbeat.

sevika's up on her elbows, clawing the sheets as she watches you lean forward and gently kiss the tip of her cock.

it jumps beneath you. you giggle, then give it another kiss, a little lower on the shaft. she's leaking onto her stomach as you trail feather light kisses down her cock, before you reach the base. you give it a long lick, root to tip, and sevika groans.

"fuck me." she whimpers, collapsing against the bed. you giggle, before kissing one of her balls. she squeaks, her cock twitches, and then she's pushing you away from her with her hand.

"what's wr--"

"fuck off-- i'm not trying to cum before you get inside me." she grunts, flopping over onto her belly so you can't touch her anymore. you burst into laughter, smacking the delicious ass that's been presented to you and delighting in the moan it pulls from her.

she gets her revenge the next moment, when she lifts up onto her knees, presenting her hole to you and shaking her hips tantalizingly.

you almost black out.

instead, you bite sevika's ass cheek, reach for the bottle of lube, and get to work.

with one finger inside her, sevika's quiet, humming against the sheets sweetly with your thrusts. you take your time, trying to figure out what she likes.

"more." she requests. you give her another finger, and she shivers at the stretch. she's much more vocal as you begin pumping two fingers in and out of her, and when you crook your fingers just right-- "there!" she screams. you grin.

"sev, you're so fucking beautiful." sevika groans, burying her head against the pillow beneath her. but you can feel how she clenches around you at your words, so you don't stop. "just perfect. can't believe i'm the first one to do this to you-- 's so fucking hot."

"more." sevika whines. you add some more lube, then work in a third finger.

sevika collapses against the mattress. squelching sounds start up as you continue fucking her, crooking your fingers against her p-spot on each thrust, trying to memorize the cute way her thighs are shaking. tiny, pathetic moans are escaping the pillow she's pressed her mouth against, and you hinge forward at the waist to pepper kisses over her muscular back. "shit, sevika, i love you."

time freezes. sevika goes completely still underneath you, and you still inside of her. your heartbeat's hammering in your ears, and embarrassment is starting to creep up your spine.

but then, "i need you to fuck me right now." sevika gasps, pushing herself up on all fours and pressing her ass against your strap. "please, please, baby, i can't wait anymore, i need you so fuckin' bad--"

you think she might be crying. you don't mention it, you just sigh against the knob on her spine, pressing a quick kiss to it as you lube up your cock and line it up with sevika.

at the feeling of you bumping against her, sevika sinks backwards, taking you in one go.

this time you actually do black out a little at the sight of it. when you come to, you've collapsed on top of her, buried balls deep inside and nuzzling her neck.

she's giggling under you. "you okay?" she asks.

you just grunt, kiss her cheek, and push yourself off of her to start fucking her.

sevika gasps, reaching back to grab your hand where you're holding her hip. you let go to intertwine your hands, and sevika whimpers as you swipe your thumb over her knuckles.

"fuck, fuck, sevika, you're so fuckin' beautiful--" you gasp as you watch her take you. she's letting out the cutest whines, no longer coherent enough to feel embarrassed by them.

"you feel so good." she whines. you groan and smack her ass again. sevika giggles and collapses against the bed. you follow her, not letting up on your fast pace.

"shit, wait--" you gasp out suddenly. sevika lifts her head up from where she was drooling, looking over her shoulder at you to pout when you pull out of her. you click the tiny button on the base of the dildo, and sevika's pout turns into a grin at the sound.

"this is gonna be over way faster than i wanted." she whines before you can push back inside her. you laugh aloud, half at her words, half at the vibrations of the base of the dildo against your pubic bone, then sink back inside of her.

you both whine.

you have no coordination anymore-- you're laying flat on top of sevika where she's sprawled out on the mattress, just writing against her with pathetic little humps. she doesn't seem to mind much if the way she's whining and clawing at you is any indication.

"you fuck me so good, baby." sevika whines. "fuck me so much better than i could ever fuck myself."

you bite your lip, desperate not to cum before sevika, but so fucking close. you taste blood. you don't stop.

"sevika, baby, you're perfect, honey. you're so fuckin' pretty, you drive me fucking crazy, i love you so fucking mu--"

"f-fuck!" sevika shrieks as she cums beneath you. you grin, biting her shoulder and finally letting the pleasure drown you out now that you know she's gotten hers.

it's one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had, and when you finally stop shaking and grunting against your girlfriend and open your eyes again, everything looks pink and sparkly.

"fuck." you sigh. sevika giggles, then smacks your hip.

"the vibrator." she grunts.

you pull off of her just enough to press the buttons and let the vibrations cease, then collapse back on top of her, still buried inside of her. sevika giggles underneath you, then reaches out to gently pat whatever part of you she can find first. it ends up being your elbow.

"hey." sevika whispers. you start to flop off of her, assuming she's going to say she can't breathe or something. but she gasps when you peel yourself off your back, her hold on your elbow becoming a death grip. "what?! stay!" she demands. your heart soars in your chest, and you collapse back on top of her, nuzzling her neck.

"sorry. thought you were gettin' tired of cuddles." you mumble.

sevika snorts, then mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, 'i'll never get tired of cuddles with you.' then, she clears her throat and speaks loud enough for you to hear clearly. "i love you too."

you grin, thrust your hips against sevika's ass just enough to make her squeak, and then burst into laughter. "i hope you're comfortable, because you're never getting rid of me now. i'm just gonna cling to your back like this for the rest of your life."

sevika giggles. "with your cock inside me or...?" she asks. you snort and bite her neck.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 26 (Aphrodisiac)

Blaidd x Male!reader

You sat on your bedroll near the crackling campfire as you tinkered with your materials. You sighed deeply while attempting to craft a Bloodboil Aromatic. The alluring scent of flora wafted through the air. Blaidd had been gone for some time, hunting for fresh meat. Your fingers were stained with various potions and ingredients, but there was still something missing – Land Octopus Ovaries.

You huff as you look through your bag again. You stop when you see you still have beast blood from those Monstrous dogs you had slain in Caelid. You bring the glass vial to your nose and sniff it. It almost smells the same as the ovaries. You wonder if it could serve as a substitute.

Fuck it. You pop the cork and pour the thick blood into your mortar.

As you mix the substances together, you hear rustling of leaves from the woods. Suddenly, Blaidd exits the treeline and heads over to your campfire. He's carrying a large piece of raw meat. He drops it beside the fire and gives you an exhausted smile before collapsing onto his makeshift bedroll next to yours.

"Did I miss anything?" he asks groggily.

You shake your head slightly. "Nothing much, just trying to make something," you say nonchalantly as you carefully pour the contents of the mortar into a new vial. Instead of the usual deep red color associated with Bloodboil Aromatics, the liquid inside has taken on a faint pink hue.

Blaidd raises an eyebrow and approaches you curiously. He takes the vial and uncorks it before taking a whiff. His eyes widen in realization.

"That doesn't look like any Bloodboil Aromatic I've seen before," he remarks, eyeing the unfamiliar color of the potion. "What did you use instead of the Land Octopus Ovaries?"

You shrug casually. "Just beast blood from those big doggies we fought back in Caelid," you explain. "I figured they might work since they're kinda similar, right?"

Blaidd hesitates for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Well, I suppose so... But I don't think anyone has tried using dog blood instead of octopus ovaries before. This might be interesting."

Nodding firmly, you grab the vial containing your concoction and raise it to your lips. "Only one way to find out!" you declare boldly.

Blaidd looks worried. "Are you sure? We don't know what effect this will have—"

"Too late".

You swallow the entire contents of the vial without another thought. Immediately afterward, a strange sensation begins to spread throughout your body. Warmth fills your veins, followed by an mild burning sensation that seems to radiate from every cell in your being. Sweat breaks out on your forehead as you feel like you're on fire from within.

Gasping for breath, you drop the empty vial and lie on your bedroll.

Blaidd rushes to your side, concern etched across his features. However, upon closer inspection, he realizes that rather than experiencing pain, you appear to be... enjoying yourself? With each wave of heat coursing through your body, you let out soft moans of pleasure.

Your hands stretch out towards him, desperately seeking contact. Confused yet intrigued, Blaidd tentatively allows himself to be pulled closer. Your arms wrap around his waist and pull him close.

Puzzled by your behavior, Blaidd leans in closer to get a better whiff of whatever is causing such a reaction in his mate. As he takes a deep breath, his eyes widen in surprise. That familiar scent – one that sends shivers down his spine and causes his heart to race – emanates from you. Arousal.

Somehow, in place of creating a Bloodboil Aromatic, you had managed to craft up an aphrodisiac!

As Blaidd continues to process the situation, you begin to grow impatient. Moaning louder now, you attempt to draw him even closer until your faces are mere inches apart. Your lips part slightly, begging for a taste of his mouth.

He quickly comes to the conclusion that perhaps the beast blood played a role in changing the outcome of the potion.

Frustration bubbles within you as Blaidd remains lost in thought. Unable to hold back anymore, you release a whimper, demanding his attention.

Finally, he snaps out of his daze and gazes down at you, taking in your flushed face and pleading expression. Understanding dawns on him – you need him now, more than ever.

Blaidd lowers his lips to meet yours in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Intoxicated by the potion's effects, you throw caution to the wind and devour Blaidd's lips with fervor. Your hands move restlessly beneath his armor, eager to touch bare fur.

Blaidd chuckles softly between kisses, finding your aroused state highly entertaining. Yet, despite his amusement, he cannot help but crave more contact with you.

Reluctantly pulling away from your lips, Blaidd starts to remove his armor piece by piece. Hearing your plaintive whines, he gives you a playful grin. "Patience, mate," he coos teasingly.

Eager to join him, you hastily shed your own garments to relieve yourself of the heat overtaking your body.

Stripped bare, you settle back onto the bedroll, legs spread wide open in invitation. Your hard member stands proudly erect, pulsing with desire. You can't help but give into primal instincts, letting out a series of heavy pants that echo through the campsite.

Blaidd's ears perk up at the sound, his own arousal growing stronger by the second. With swift movements, he joins you on the ground, his tail swishing excitedly behind him.

Chuckling softly, Blaidd watches as you continue to behave erratically. Could the beast blood be responsible for bringing forth these animalistic behaviors? To test his theory, he reaches out and gently strokes your belly.

The instant his hand makes contact with your skin, you arch your back and let out a mewl of delight. Your canine nature seems undeniable. You emit a low whine of approval, prompting Blaidd to continue exploring further south.

Encouraged by your response, Blaidd delves deeper into his exploration. His fingers dance across your inner thighs, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You writhe beneath his ministrations, unable to contain the building pressure within you.

It doesn't take long for his hand to brush against your twitching cock, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. Your hips buck wildly, urging him to keep touching you.

Teasingly, Blaidd wraps his large hand around your throbbing erection, squeezing gently as he begins to stroke you. The sensations send shockwaves through your body, eliciting a series of whining moans.

"Such a needy little mate," he murmurs affectionately, unable to resist leaning in for another kiss.

Fueled by the aphrodisiac, you lose control entirely. Whimpering and reaching for him, you manage to capture his head between your palms. Pulling him closer, you devour his lips once more, turning the kiss into a messy affair filled with slurping sounds and saliva.

Beneath the influence of the potion, your speech devolves into babbling, but one word rings clear amidst the chaos – "please." Over and over again, you beg for release.

Growling low in his throat, Blaidd responds to your pleas with increased vigor. His tongue delves deeper into your mouth as the pumping on your cock picks up speed.

Abruptly, Blaidd tears his lips away from yours and slithers down your torso. Without warning, his warm tongue swirls around the tip of your member, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Sucking you whole, he begins to bob his head rapidly, eliciting loud cries from your parched throat. You buck your hips into his maw.

"Mmmm... fuck... yes..." you mumble, completely overcome by the pleasure. As Blaidd works your cock, you dissolve into a mass of incomprehensible moans and mumbles. Your body temperature skyrockets due to the aphrodisiac, leaving you covered in sweat and borderline delirious.

The intensity builds within you, threatening to break the dam holding back your release. With a pitiful cry, you finally succumb to the waves of pleasure crashing over you. White hot cum shoots from your cock, filling Blaidd's waiting mouth. He opens his maw wide, allowing you to witness your semen splattering the walls of his throat.

Without missing a beat, Blaidd switches his focus to your quivering hole. He presses his tongue flat against your puckered entrance, circling it with practiced ease.

Overwhelmed by the sudden stimulation, all you can muster is a weak protest mixed with a whine. "Blaidd, wait, I... fuuuuck."

Blaidd lifts your legs over his broad furry shoulders, giving himself unfettered access to your hole. He raises your ass off the ground a bit. He presses his nose against your crevice, inhaling deeply the musky scent of your arousal.

Slathering his wet tongue over your asshole, he digs his furry snout deeper into your crack. All the while, he growls his appreciation, letting you know exactly how much he's enjoying your flavors.

"So...good," he rasps between licks. "You taste so good, my mate."

Blaidd drives his long tongue deeper inside you. Each thrust feels impossibly filthy, yet incredibly exhilarating. As he forces your body to accommodate his size, he lifts your ass higher, forcing you to balance awkwardly on your shoulder blades.

Unable to form coherent words, all you can offer in return are helpless whimpers.

After a few minutes, Blaidd withdraws from your depths and surveys his handiwork. Your hole is loosely open, glistening with wolf saliva. Even in its relaxed state, it still seems hungry for more.

Seeing how well you've taken his tongue thus far, he praises you. "Good boy, such a good, responsive mate."

With a gentle tug, Blaidd guides you back down to the ground, positioning you just right to receive his thick wolf cock. Its massive girth slaps against your now flaccid member, reminding you that there's still much more to come.

Despite your exhaustion, you find the strength to beg for more. "Please, Blaidd... I want it... please fill me up"

Blaidd teases you mercilessly, pressing the tip of his massive member against your gaping hole. Instinctively, you clench your inner muscles, trying to entice him further.

"Be patient, mate. We have all night." His words leave no room for argument, though they do little to quell your burning need. He pushes the very tip inside before retreating once more.

Frustrated by Blaidd's slow pace, you throw caution to the wind and wrap your legs around his waist, attempting to pull him deeper inside. Unfortunately, he proves too strong for your feeble efforts.

A deep rumble escapes his throat as he laughs heartily at your bold move. "So eager," he remarks playfully. "I like that." Undeterred, he continues to plunge the head of his cock in and out of your eager hole.

Finally, Blaidd decides enough is enough and slides an inch deeper inside you. The sensation sends you spiraling into another wave of ecstasy.

Growling in approval, he claims possession of your body. "Feels so good having me inside you, doesn't it?"

Unable to formulate words, you simply nod frantically, lost in the haze of desire. Satisfied by your state, Blaidd takes hold of your hips and plunges the remainder of his monstrous, canine cock into your body.

Once Blaidd bottoms out, he allows himself a moment to revel in the connection. "Mmm, perfect fit," He mutters as his furry balls nuzzle against your ass.

Instead of immediately thrusting, Blaidd opts for something slower – grinding and gyrating his cock inside you. Grabbing your hands, he pulls them around his torso, locking you in place as he sets a leisurely pace.

In the midst of your passionate coupling, Blaidd suddenly pulls out completely. Before you have time to protest, he slams back inside with a single forceful thrust.

Your cries of surprise morph into pleasured mewls at the sudden intrusion. "Shhh, there's a good mate," Blaidd whispers tenderly, knowing full well how sensitive you must still be from the potion. "Sweet boy".

Nestled within the comfort of his embrace, Blaidd resumes his measured strokes. With each powerful thrust, his heavy balls slap rhythmically against your exposed rear end.

Taking advantage of your closeness, he presses his nose into the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths filled with your scent.

Overcome by your intoxicating scent, Blaidd cannot help but comment on it. "You smell amazing, love. Maybe we should make some more of that aphrodisiac for next time." His words send a fresh surge of arousal coursing through your veins.

Urged on by your growing excitement, Blaidd picks up his pace, fucking you harder than before. His tongue darts out to trace the edge of a prominent scar adorning your neck – the mark he gave you when you both became mates. His thrusts become erratic, bordering on feral.

Wrapping his arms around you possessively, Blaidd's voice lowers to a primal growl. "Oh gods, I want to flood you with my cum so badly, mate."

Hearing these words ignites a fire within you, prompting you to beg for it. "Yes...cum in me," You mutter in a daze.

Encouraged by your words, Blaidd doubles his efforts, driven solely by primal urges. Every powerful thrust of his cock elicits a mix of squelching and squishing sounds from your ass.

As he nears climax, his knot swells dangerously close to bursting point.

Giving into his most basic impulses, Blaidd sinks his teeth into the flesh surrounding your bonding scar. You cry out as you hold him tighter. At the same time, his bloated knot forces its way past your ring of muscle with a wet pop, locking you together. Finally, he releases his load deep within you, filling every crevice with his cum. You whine as you feel his cock twitch and throb with every pump of cum.

With both of you trembling during the comedown, Blaidd cradles you gently in his arms, offering words of solace and praise. "That was incredible, mate. You took me so well... so perfectly."

You let out a content sigh. "Yeah, that was amazing," you say as you kiss the side of his muzzle.

Sensing your improved mental state, Blaidd cannot help but remark upon it. "Seems like the effects of the aphrodisiac have finally worn off, eh? Good thing too, otherwise we wouldn't be able to stop ourselves from fucking all day."

Locked together at the hips, you manage to summon a small smile. "Sounds like a plan for another night. I think I might need to write down that recipe." Your words are met with amused chuckles from Blaidd.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, where it's kinda inspired by the song 'Stacy's Mom', where Reader is friends with Charlie and they have a crush on "Charlie's Dad"?

Charlie's Dad has got it going on~

Sure! Doing it in bullet point format because I am LAZY

You met Charlie when you started staying at the Hotel

Did you believe people could make their way to Heaven?

Hand-wavy.

Did you believe people could be better?

Still hand-wavy

But you wanted to try

To see

So you checked in

Also. Like. The Hotel was probably safer because of the demons who resided in it

Like The Radio Demon

The Princess

Former-overlord the Gambling Demon

Some lady named Nifty who killed Adam

and. Also. The King himself

Charlie you found it easy to be friends with

She was such a sweetheart and you were so easily attached to people like that

Funnily enough, Lucifer actually caught the feelings first

He tried to keep it hidden but Charlie saw through it pretty easily

Luci had been lonely since his divorce with Lilith. The king himself silently wondered if their love was anything true at all.

Cause. Like. The only other option was Adam.

So was she just settling?

With you, Lucifer felt wanted.

Not that Lilith didn't make him feel wanted

Lilith was important to him. And he still loved her. But not as much in a romantic sense

Regardless, his romance-ability skills were kind of rough around the edges

Seduction was no problem

But that's not the kind of thing he wanted with you

not yet

and even then, only if you wanted

Charlie felt rather torn about it. She still loved her mom and deep down she wanted her parents to stay together how she knew them growing up

Still, she didn't find anything wrong with it outside of her own thoughts.

But when she found out you thought of Lucifer the same way...

She was still conflicted!

But!

You were her friend!

And!

She wanted you AND her dad to be happy!

She would legitimately never call you mom though!

Charlie'd try her best to be subtle about nudging you two together

Unfortunately you and the king were frustratingly oblivious

Or maybe just in a constant state of self doubt

Maybe both

Evventually she'd just end up blurting it out, ending it with 'ok now i'm gonna go before this gets weird byeeeeeee'

The two of you take a moment to process

"...so. uh. you free friday?"

"...yeah. you wanna go out?"

"sounds good."

[diorcities]

strawberries & cigarettes

pairing: haechan (donghyuck) x reader. genre: angst, smut towards the end, fluff? content: enemies to lovers, slow burn, college au, boyband, boyband!haechan, love triangule, kinda?, karina as jeno's s/o, ningning. they're on a play. haechan's a dick, reader's a dick. a lot of cussing. female masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), virginity, unprotected sex, breeding kink. mention of alcohol, marihuana, sharing bed. wc: 15,9k readproof taglist: @sundamariis — @smwhrinthehaze <3

summary: the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.

"stop!" your voice reverberates on the four walls of the school of arts' auditorium, leaving everyone present perplexed and immobile; they believe that any movement might trigger armageddon. not that you aren't already upset. "tell me it's a joke. jisung, tell me it's a joke," you ask your assistant, who is more useful for carrying your things than assisting with important matters.

"it's a..."

"shut up, i don't want to hear it." your gaze sweeps the room, and as it passes, their eyes avoid yours, refusing to make contact. a sigh escapes your lips as you glance at your wristwatch. it's 22:48. "i don't have time to repeat for the thousandth time what you have to correct, you..." you pause, waiting for the girl in the middle of the stage to remind you of her name.

"yeji," she says. "sure," is her only response. "jisung, who's next?" you ask, watching the boy nervously scan the character list. "benvolio," he replies, trembling more than usual. you give him a bored look before instructing him to bring in the next person. "uh... i'm afraid renjun isn't here," he explains.

"renjun is...?" you repeat, having no idea who he is. "benvolio. he's the guy who plays benvolio," he blurts out, speaking so quickly it takes you a moment to process his words. jisung looks up from the ground and is likely convinced you've lost your mind. you're getting there. "alright," you manage to reply, your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw. "and the next one?" you ask, "the character, jisung," you insist, preventing him from mentioning another name you can't remember. "well... romeo and juliet are missing," the boy informs you tensely, your unnerving calm unsettling him.

"did you call them?" the boy nods, "they aren't answering." jisung awaits your response, which comes without delay. "can anybody tell me where everyone is!?" you explode, provoking a range of reactions. jisung covers his head with the list as if the ceiling were about to cave in, the spotlight assistant accidentally shifts the spotlight, and the girl in the middle of the stage lets out a shriek.

"it's almost midnight, it's friday," he tries to explain. "the play is on monday," you remind him, pointing a finger. the girl's voice captures your attention. "what did you say?"

"i said they're at the dream society party." those words hold no meaning for you. the idea that you should be aware of such events only fuels your growing anger. "can you explain what the dream society is?" you ask, using all your willpower to avoid shouting. "it's the band, the rock band," jisung explains. you look at him disapprovingly. "the entire school is there; it's the party for their new album," the girl continues. "renjun, benvolio, romeo, and juliet are probably there."

you contemplate for a few seconds, chewing gum furiously, almost able to hear jisung's heart pounding as he waits for your reaction. "okay, we're going to that party." the boy's eyes widen. "do you know where it is?" you ask. "y-yes, yes. it's in..." he stops suddenly, his eyes wide in recollection.

"what now, jisung?" you ask, heading for the exit. "lights off! you can go home," you inform, hearing the relief behind you. "well, uh...," you hear him say. "no stuttering; you know i hate it," you interject. the boy clears his throat before continuing.

"well, the dream society... the band... the party. you're going to kill me if i don't tell you."

"i want to kill you already," you mutter, encouraging him to continue. "it's made up of students, from the art school," he says. "okay, you're not telling me anything," you mumble, walking down the halls toward the parking lot. "you know some of them," he insists. "i doubt it."

"jeno," he mentions. you try to remain composed as you search for your car keys. "chenle, mark, and... donghyuck," he blurts out just as you find the keys. his sigh of relief quickly turns to annoyance. jisung must be joking. "there's more..." he continues, nervously. you spin on your heels and stare at him. jisung knows how cautious you are about any mention of donghyuck; you'd react with rage if you heard his name. one of the rules he must adhere to is not to make contact with donghyuck. if he did, you had several options: ignore him, curse him, or your favorite, punch him in his pretty face. but you're not in the mood to scold him for mentioning donghyuck's name, even though it's forbidden, so you push him to continue. "go on."

"the party is at his house."

act one.

"look up romeo and juliet. i'll go for benvolio," you order jisung as soon as you park. by now, you have become fed up with the party unfolding outside of your comfort zone (your car): sweaty bodies, music blaring in your ears, people, and forced conversations. it has become a hotbed for your patience. you take a couple of breaths before leaving.

you follow jisung to the entrance of the house as a somehow shield to the world; no one expects you to be there, and so making an appearance at your enemy's house could lead to a whole misunderstood, something you don't want to feed on. you need to get out of there soon. once inside, both have gone in different directions to cover more ground and, therefore, get out of that place as quickly as possible and go back to the well-being of the auditorium. your eyes look in all directions in search of the lost characters in your work, and also in case you see someone in the crowd. As you move towards the house's entrance, the music becomes louder, and more people start crowding. the smell of weed reaches your nose, causing you to wince. your hand quickly covers it when you collide with jisung's back. "hey!" you yell at him, about to tell him to focus on the target when your eyes flick from his body to the person blocking the way.

lee donghyuck.

"look who we have here, the lap assistant, and the movie star," he whistles. you notice jisung clench his fists ready to step out for you (which you don't thank him enough) before you move him out of the way and face him. the approach has to be friendly; it's his house. if you want him to let you in, both will have to leave the feud for another day. "look… you," you name, causing the boy to shrug. "you didn't call me an idiot; that's progress," he says. you take a breath of air before continuing. "we only want to look for the boys from the drama club, nothing more. let us in, and we won't bother you," you explain, with wounded pride that you have to give in. but sometimes, you have to give in to win.

"those from the drama club," he repeats. "yes, benvolio, romeo, and juliet," you reply. donghyuck frowns, "who?"

you grit your teeth and look at jisung for support. "karina, renjun, and jeno," the boy explains. donghyuck raises his eyebrows in realization, bringing a hand to his chin. you look at him reluctantly, feigning a grimace that doesn't reveal your annoyance. "it's not possible," he says finally. you're stunned for a few seconds, watching him look at you with amusement. "pardon? how is it not possible?"

"we'll play in a few minutes; jeno is our bass player. you can't just take him with you and leave like that," he explains. "dnd Renjun?" jisung asks. "ah..., i don't care about renjun," he says, shrugging.

"okay, okay. you keep jeno," you resolve, looking at jisung, seeking support in your decision. "we'll look for renjun, then," you add, nodding. "well, nice to see you, but we're going." you say your goodbyes, exhausted from being nice, taking jisung's hand and pushing him towards the house, being stopped by the fact that donghyuck doesn't move an inch to let you pass. "yeah… there's a little problem for you guys," he blurts out, looking suddenly embarrassed. "you're not invited to the party."

"you must be kidding," you finally mumble, making donghyuck smile triumphantly. "can't you stop being an idiot for a moment?" you feel jisung's hand on your arm, warningly. the friendly approach: forget it. your tetra: forget it. The possibility that he would let you into the party: forget it. "okay, there are things more important than your stupid band and your fucking existence." donghyuck looks at you with fascination. "there it is, the real yn."

"fuck off." it's too late. you're furious beyond fuming, rabid. you could explode right now and bring everything down. donghyuck's laugh makes you angrier. without being able to avoid it, your hands go to his chest, pushing him. however, the boy doesn't stop laughing. "you're a childish, dipshit jerk," you say, with each push. "fuck off!"."

"you've already said it."

"i hope you enjoy your damn party, you jerk," you spat, noticing jisung's grip on your arm, turning away from the boy with an amused look. "have I told you how cute your eyes look when you're angry?" his comment only makes you angrier. you release jisung's grip only to flash your middle finger in response, letting him finally lead you to your car. "idiot," you mutter, covering your face in an attempt to calm down. "maybe we should go ho…" you hear the boy next to you say. "break in," you interrupt, defiant. jisung nods slowly, exhaling. "break in, understood."

your eyes light up as an idea occurs to you. the trick is that nobody recognizes you and wants to alert donghyuck. "take off your jacket," you order. "and i need you to take my car," you add, causing jisung to stop his movements to do as you requested. sometimes you're grateful that the boy is willing to do whatever you order. among all the chaos, you like him. but you would never tell him. you snap your fingers for him to react. "he must think we left for my plan to work," you explain. "you will take my car for about two blocks. when i find benvolio, we'll meet there," you continue. "understood?"

jisung nods quickly before offering you the jacket. you rush to put it on and hand him your car keys. jisung gives a lucky thumbs-up before you approach the party again. you let your hair down to make the perfect curtain to cover your face, and with jisung's jacket, it's impossible for people to remember you. after all, no one knows you. spending time in the auditorium between classes and breaks in high school made you almost invisible. besides, your foul humor made it impossible to make friends. you knew the drama club. that was your social circle.

you're able to crash the party without regard. you almost jump with excitement if it weren't for the fact that you have to continue with the act until you find benvolio and drag him out of that place. his irresponsibility makes your jaw ache from grinding your teeth so much. the sweet desire to shout at them encourages you to search carefully. "yn?" someone takes you by the shoulder and gently turns you around. juliet's face looks at you, confused.

as if looking at you brings back her memory, she gently taps her forehead. "crap, i forgot. the drama club."

"yes, the drama club," you repeat with difficulty. "i know the lines, seriously." you doubt it. "it's just… jeno." that name. "is performing today, and i wanted to come to support him." jeno. jeno. jeno. juliet and jeno, best friends and neighbors. with those odds, you just couldn't compete. "are you okay?" she asks, concerned. maybe your face has turned red. "great," you blurt out. "now, if you'll excuse me," you say goodbye, stopping suddenly as you remember something. "you haven't seen me, is that clear?" you watch her nod before continuing to search.

okay, juliet: no. romeo: neither. benvolio, then.

you slip through the crowd, going unnoticed, hardly. people look at you strangely every time you take them by the shoulder and turn them around, hoping to find Benvolio in one of them. it seems like you're playing a game of turning over the cards until you find your match. back here, it's not benvolio. back there, it's not romeo. you find him later talking to donghyuck in a corner, and like a repellent, you go to the opposite side. you wait the time it takes for that conversation to end, and you follow him to the drinks bar.

"yn, what are you doing here?" jeno looks at you quite confused when you approach him. being at a teen party was one of the last places he'd expect to find you. honestly, he's right. "oh, i don't know," you mumble, exaggerating every word. "perhaps looking for answers as to why my characters are at a party and not in the auditorium." you watch jeno nod slowly, though he doesn't look at all guilty of that recrimination. "i apologize," he says, "but since you're here, you can stay. i'll make sure to dedicate one of our songs to you as a form of apology." you would have given in at that moment and place, except for one: you don't like rock, and two: someone catches jeno's attention.

"hey jeno!" you freeze as you hear someone calling romeo through the music. jeno waves somewhere behind you, purely by coincidence or fate, where you have seen donghyuck chatting with a girl. "this isn't over, romeo," you threaten, ready to leave before finding out if the person approaching you is donghyuck.

as you turn and flee, your face collides with a smooth yet hard surface. you caress your nose (two time in one night? it must be a record), looking up at the rest of the chest that you hit your septum on, meeting a pair of eyes that seem to shine. "oh shit, are you okay?" he asks, looking concerned. "great," you hiss. the boy moves with a spasm. "i'm really sorry." sure, he is. he looks at you for longer than usual, as if he remembered something. "wait, romeo?" he asks.

"mmm…" jeno nods. "we're in the drama club," he explains. the starry-eyed boy hisses. "i guess you're juliet," he says in your direction. "you guessed wrong," you mutter. even though that answer would have been enough to deter people from talking to you, the boy finds it funny. his laughter is heard above the music, and consequently, jeno starts laughing too. thus, you do too. "she's our director," jeno mentions. the boy nods several times, weighing the words of the black-haired man. "impressive," he says at the end, raising his hand above his head to simulate an imaginary ladder, "very impressive. my congratulations."

"thank you," you reply, suddenly feeling weird. no one has reacted like that. as if they take it for granted that it's impressive in and of itself. the star boy shrugs as if it's nothing. as if it's easy for him to spontaneously compliment people. "wait, if you're the director, that would make you…"

"shakespeare," you both say in unison. genuinely smiling is not common for you. you can see it; jeno has to look at you twice to make sure you're actually smiling. on the other hand, the star boy must think you smile often, go to parties every day, and that jeno is your friend. "have you seen renjun?" you ask jeno, remembering why you came. you watch him think before his gaze gets lost in the ocean of people. his eyes widen slightly as he finds something in the crowd. he points his finger behind the starry-eyed boy, and your gaze follows the path until it falls on renjun, talking to donghyuck, a few meters from you.

as if your gaze can sense it, donghyuck returns your gaze, at first distracted, without recognizing you, until you can feel his brain alerting him to look a second time. however, you react automatically, grabbing the boy by the shoulder, and he instinctively leans forward, within reach. your face moves closer to his, lips going to his lips.

first, there is no reaction. just your lips touching. your body is completely tense from being so close to finding benvolio, when a sudden movement causes your thoughts to shut up. the boy's lips begin to move on top of yours.

he's kissing you.

uour hands are still on his shoulders, and his hand goes to one of them, taking it between them and guiding it to his neck, before slipping out of your hand, onto your shoulder, resting on your back, drawing you closer to him.

his eyelashes tickle your cheeks, and his lips, soft, kiss yours. slowly. your head tilts to the sides when they change position. the spell of a kiss is broken without warning when his lips move away from yours. your eyes widen quickly as donghyuck takes him by the shoulder and pulls him away from you. finally, his death glare falls on you.

donghyuck gives jeno a look before taking your arm and dragging you toward the exit. you try to wriggle out of his grip, but the boy is pretty strong, and his grip is pretty hard. "i can find my way out on my own, cretin," you hiss at him, trying to get rid of him to no avail. "you are a jerk. i want you to know that." you keep ranting as he leads you to the exit. "you bumbling buffoon, always have to mess things up. how i hate you," you blurt out, seeing that you're past the exit.

your hand instinctively goes to his arm, feeling it tense under your touch.

"the exit is that…"

"shut the fuck up," he hisses, leading them into a desolate hallway. he drops you between the wall and him. he looks quite angry, his hands are clenching and unclenching into fists, and his breathing is rough. his eyes finally look at you, burning with rage. "what the hell are you doing?" he releases. "shit, are you like this because i snuck into your part…?" you say before he interrupts you. "what were you doing kissing mark?" he asks. you're afraid he will release fire at any moment.

you find yourself not knowing what to say, watching his hardened features and shadowed eyes looming over you. without noticing it until that moment, you fall into the account of their bodies, almost brushing against each other. your arguing breaths intertwining in the air in between. your gazes trying to pierce each other. so close you can smell his cologne, mingling with his marlboro breath. your gaze travels to his lips, as if you could visualize the cigarette between them, exhaling smoke through his plump, heart-shaped lips. reacting quickly and cursing for what it looks like you're doing, returning to meet his gaze, only to find that he is doing the same, looking intensely at your lips. only you never smoked.

you make an effort to go back to the here and now, remembering that because of him, your characters are there and not in the auditorium. that he surely did it on purpose, just like in the past. donghyuck watches you cross your arms. "what do you care?" you ask, causing him to react by rolling his eyes in annoyance and taking a couple of steps back, putting distance between the two of you. "the world doesn't spin around you, pretty girl. i don't give a shit who you kiss." his voice sounds rather bored. "just don't kiss mark," he adds.

your laughter fills the air, a stark contrast to the boy's attitude. "you don't tell me what to do, idiot," you finally say, looking suddenly serious. "certainly, who or whom i can't kiss," you say, sentencing. a muscle jumps in the boy's jaw. "do what you want," he mutters, his face coming dangerously close to yours, a contest of who murdered the other with a stare begins. "but do it out of my damn party," he whispers, his breath tickling your cheeks.

"good!" you answer, dodging him on your way to the exit, "and just for your information, maybe you should shower, you stink like cigarettes! bet your groupies wont like it."

"bet they do."

fuck romeo. fuck juliet. and fuck lee donghyuck.

you walk across the front lawn toward the street. a voice calls you over the music. mark appears out of the night, smiling in your direction. "hey, shakespeare, where are you going? are you okay?" he asks quickly.

“yn,” you utter in a low voice, resuming your march in search of jisung. "i know," he replies, earning you a look. the question about how he knows your name pops into your mind, and you answer it almost immediately. jeno.

“um… are you leaving so early?” he asks.

“yes, i… i have things to do.” of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that donghyuck doesn't want you at his stupid party like you want to be there anyway. “good luck with your presentation,” you tell him. “ah, and…, i'm sorry I kissed you,” you add, ending that fateful encounter between the two of you. that night has turned out differently than you imagined. you want it to end.

you feel mark's hand take yours, stopping you. "i don't." he watches you hide your perplexity at that confession, raising his eyebrows expectantly. you can't help but look into his eyes for a longer time, those that seem to contain fireflies. “you will,” you assure, and you wait, fearful for him to turn around and go back to the party, for him to give up so quickly, for him to agree with you. but that does not happen.

instead, he takes a step toward you, and then another, and you hold your breath. maybe he does too. his hand goes to an unruly lock on your face, pushing it away gently. “i doubt it,” he utters, just for you to hear.

act two.

the auditorium begins to empty out as students carry the romeo and juliet sets backstage. as one by one, the pieces are removed, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach; your last work of the cycle. the last play before you graduate. the memories are inevitable to stop, and suddenly, your vision blurs. you've been doing works since you realized that you could have your own criteria. you've been doing them since you were little, in the safe space of your room, but not interpreting them, directing them. seeing everything from the outside, always expectant. you've never wanted to play a role until that moment when you watched the stage empty.

"all set, boss," jisung shows up unannounced. “i can't believe this is the end,” he comments, without giving you time to recriminate him for the scare he has given you. “ugh… i didn't realize how much i liked working at the drama club,” he says, looking around the auditorium. you chuckle, causing the boy to look at you curiously. "even when i was yelling at you for not doing your job right?" you ask, wanting to sound disinterested but dreading the answer.

jisung simply replies, “that was the best part.” smiling. “it was a pleasure to have been your assistant,” he pronounces, his gaze softening with honesty.

“jisung,” you call as he walks away. the boy raises his eyebrows, waiting, patient, as if he knows. “you weren't… that bad,” you blurt out, trailing off each word, hoping he finds sincerity in your words. he nods, smiling, causing you to add “don't get used to it,” in the process. “uh, by the way,” he says, remembering something, “the principal wants to see us when you have time,” he reports.

you watch him walk away, deciding to pick up the art school principal on your way home. slowly, you walk toward the exit of the auditorium, pacing the room slowly, wanting to remember the scent one last time (excluding the smell of sweat and hairspray). all the auditions, all the plays, the moments when you eat quietly on stage, your gaze lost between the audience seats, with the dim reflector and your ideas traveling at a thousand kilometers per hour as the only company.

"hey!" a high-pitched voice screeches as you accidentally trip over his body. “ah, yn, i was looking for you.” renjun looks at you, his frown replaced by a smile, mysteriously looking glad to see you. “i just wanted to apologize for playing a lousy benvolio role. i'm really sorry, i should have taken your play seriously. you put so much effort into it and put your trust in me, and i'm really sorry,” he says, vomiting the words without breathing, his features contracted into a pained grimace. “you probably hate me,” he adds.

you look at him, breaking the silence with a sigh, "i don't know if i hate you more than i like you." the boy doesn't look the least bit offended. he shows you one of his best smiles, which lights up his face. “oh, i'll take that as a good thing,” he comments. "you know? even though everyone thinks you're evil, you turned out to be quite nice."

"who thinks i'm evil?" you question, catching him off guard. his eyes widen as if he had said something he shouldn't have said, suddenly avoiding your gaze. despite the fact that you had initially said it as a joke, the boy's reaction makes you take his words seriously. "was it your friend?" you continue, "donghyuck?" renjun denies it several times. “i was referring to the drama club,” he confesses, “well, apparently…everyone hates you.”

“old news, renjun,” you declare. you couldn't be friends with everyone, especially when the weight of directing a play fell on you. obviously, there was going to be discord, but as long as the play was perfect, you didn't care if the world ended up hating you. glory was born from hate. however, why did you feel a sting to think that lee donghyuck was behind all of that? he had said worse things in the past. their enmity went back years. their hatred, full of spite and resentment, could be felt if you shared the same room. the tension hanging in the air, making your blood boil and you hold your breath. just thinking about the other made your bodies stiffen, and a knot settle in your stomach.

renjun had said goodbye when you informed him that you should go to the principal's office. jisung had gone ahead and waited for you in the waiting room. when he saw you approaching, they entered the office. “good news,” was the first thing the man in the suit said. next to him, a woman took a seat in the chair where the director used to sit.

someone had seen the work and wanted you to present it at the art show in town. you listened intently to the woman talking about the details of the event. unlike jisung, who would blurt out “oh” and “wow” in every sentence the director said.

they wanted you to present romeo and juliet, again. all the creative protocol was in your charge. a play in the theater of the city, with five thousand people. with a lot of luck, the hundred seats in the auditorium of the school of arts managed to fill up, but the theater… it was another thing apart.

you both said goodbye to the woman and left in silence towards the already desolate corridor of the art school. both took a few steps, walking away from the office, before jisung cheered excitedly. "wait, you're going to say yes, right?" he stammered, looking concerned. your lost look found his, trying to contain a smile to no avail. you nodded several times. yeah. jisung returned to his victory chant.

your steps guided you towards the exit of the art school. as your eyes swept the parking lot, jisung announced that he was on his way out. "do you want a ride?" he asked, as your eyes found what they were looking for. “i'm fine,” you stated in a whisper, watching the boy lean lazily on the side of his car. brown eyes meeting brown eyes. smiles appearing shyly. the warmth of a hug impregnated with its aroma of amber and wood.

his lips left short kisses all over your face, and your hands put distance between the two of you, remembering where you were. “we're in the art school,” you muttered, causing the boy to chuckle. "i'm sorry," he apologized, her eyes flashing with a million emotions, “shall we go?”.

mark had attended the day of the play, and since then, something had blossomed. your heart beats faster when he's near, and an electric shock jolts through you when your eyes meet. however, you haven't kissed since the day of the party. waiting. it's something new for you. him. what you're feeling.

you catch mark staring at you. a nervous laugh suddenly attacks you. "what?" you ask, seeing him raise his eyebrows. “you're very happy today, that's all,” he reveals, turning his gaze to the road. “i'm happy,” you concede, reaching your hand up to her hair. "do you know the play?" you continue, hearing mark nod, "they want me to present it at the theater in town." you watch mark raise his eyebrows in astonishment. "wow, that's…impressive." his hand goes to the hand that's combing his hair, bringing it closer to his lips and leaving a kiss on it. “impressive,” he repeats again, in a whisper.

you smile, meditating. mark leaves another kiss before interlocking your hands and resting them on the panel in the middle of their seats. “this calls for a celebration,” he declares. "wait, what?" you ask between laughs. mark joins them.

the car falls into a pleasant silence. the evening breeze ruffles your hair. the sweet feeling of being this way numbs your extremities. why didn't i meet you before? you think aloud, quickly realizing your serious mistake. however, mark takes it seriously. "i don't know," he simply replies, "fate works in mysterious ways." "do you think it was fate?" you ask, curious. “surely,” he declares, drumming his fingers on your hand. you give him the reason probably was.

as soon as mark has parked the car, both run into a furious donghyuck.

"where the fuck were you?" he bellows, stopping to give you a fleeting glance. you can see how the fact that you were there answers his question, which makes him angrier. "we have to show up in a few hours, and you think of running away with your girlfriend?" he spats.

"well, at least you know what it feels like," you counter, crossing your arms. mark looks at them both, not knowing what to do or say. jeno, who had been observing everything from a distance, makes an appearance to calm the waters. "it's already here, isn't it?" he tries. donghyuck rolls his eyes at his words. “you can't expect us to waste time while you're being romantic, lee,” he complains, “you have responsibilities, abide by them,” he sentences, before walking away into the house, entering the garage.

jeno raises his eyebrows and half-smiles apologetically, before following the dark-haired man's footsteps into the house. you sigh, feeling your muscles tense, as mark stands in front of you, looking quite affected. "hey..." he starts saying. “he's an asshole,” you mutter, imagining pulling that runny tongue out of him. "sometimes." every time, you mean. "maybe, if..." you discover his intentions before he can formulate them. “never,” you settle, “mark lee, never,” you repeat, emphasizing each word.

“i'm not asking you to become friends,” he explains, “just…don't insult each other,” he requests. "at least try." you look at him, reluctant to do as he asked, easily giving in to the way he is looking at you. "fine," you hiss. and with that, you both head inside.

the garage is mainly decorated by the band's instruments. the battery is in one corner, and at the other end, two sofas (a large one and a small one) surround a box that serves as a coffee table. the walls are decorated with posters and license plates, and the lighting is rather dim. jeno is tuning his bass on one of the sofas, while karina is whispering next to him. donghyuck is on his back talking to a girl who is trying to calm him down, putting her hands on his shoulder and hair. just looking at him makes you feel tense again. mark notices, pulling you close and placing a chaste kiss on the crown of your head.

the girl who is chatting with donghyuck finally looks at you at the entrance, raising her eyebrows in surprise. donghyuck gives them a doggy look before leaving the room. “you must be yn,” she says, reaching out and holding out a hand. you don't know if you should smile or not, so you just don't. “yn, this is our vocalist, ning ning,” mark introduces the girl, “and you know chenle. he's in our course.”, he points to the guy at the keyboard.

“my pleasure,” the girl greets, “will you come to our gig?” she asks. and honestly, you don't know what to answer her. mark hasn't invited you. carrying your thoughts a few minutes ago when you told him about your work, the thought that mark hasn't even told you that he's going to play today causes the knot in your stomach to tighten. the possibility that he doesn't want to spend time with you invades your thoughts.

“i…” you start to say, before donghyuck interrupts you. “she doesn't even like rock,” he says, referring to you. consequently, four pairs of eyes watch you. you glare at the boy, remembering afterward to be nice. “that is to say…, i have not been able to appreciate the genre. but it's never too late,” you confess. the truth is, there's no real reason you hate rock. at least, not one you can remember at the time. you've never taken the time to listen to it, so to say you hate it is pretty extreme. it's easier to say that you hate it than to have to explain that you have no reason to do it other than donghyuck likes it, and therefore, you repelled it.

you feel mark leave another kiss on the crown of your head in the form of support, under the brown-haired gaze. a staring contest over who can break contact first begins. "uh... shall we start the practice?" ning ning asks, getting the boy's attention, who just gives a short nod. mark walks away towards the white guitar resting on the support, and with him, the warmth that emanates from his body. not knowing what to do, you do the most sensible thing: sit next to karina, who pats where jeno had previously been.

“should we play…?” chenle asks, being interrupted by donghyuck. "it doesn't have a name yet, no." is all he says. “lovesong,” ning ning proposs. donghyuck nods and everyone goes to their places, mark strums the strings of his guitar, and in response, donghyuck counts out with his drumsticks.

«i know i love you.

이 제로의 세계 속. in this zero world.

i know you're my one and only.

이 끝이 없던 어둠 속. in this endless darkness.

like oh my god, so holy.»

you watch in fascination as mark plays the guitar with nimble fingers. the enveloping melody of the song puts you in a state similar to ecstasy. the way in which the instruments complement each other, producing an absorbing sensation. jeno's bass with mark's guitar makes the perfect duo, and the drums give it the touch it needs. and ning ning's voice, in perfect harmony, manages to unite everything in a melody that resembles a siren's song. ning ning is like that, bewitching. you can notice how her presence attracts the rest to herself, like an anchor.

you help mark with the cables of the amplifiers while chenle, jeno, and karina are in charge of loading the things into ning ning's van, who is smoking a cigarette outside next to donghyuck. both in a pleasant conversation that is alien to your ears. you watch donghyuck laugh and joke, and restlessness seizes you; the image being quite strange, almost intimate. you look away finding mark paying attention to the same panorama you are looking at. “it's not fair that they're not helping carry things,” you complain, suddenly feeling annoyed. mark chuckles, pinching one of your cheeks, "i think that's my punishment for being late."

“oh,” you say. "you should do it, then." his face twists into a grimace, “what? but it's shared fault,” he argues.

"why's that? i'm not in the band."

“but you're dating a member of it,” he accuses. you open your mouth and nothing comes out of it, while mark looks at you deeply. your body suddenly rises in temperature, making it difficult to breathe regularly. "uh..." you stammer, not knowing what to say. the words melt on your tongue, the heat reaches your neck and cheeks. you are blushing

“pretty,” mark declares, taking in your face. his gaze softens, his eyes widen slightly. you share glances for a few seconds, before he remembers something that causes their features to change. "hey, about today's gig."

“don't worry,” you request, brushing it off. maybe mark has reasons for not inviting you to his little concert. whatever the reasons, you aren't upset about it. maybe a little discouraged. “i have things to do and…” you say, leaving the words hanging because the reality is that you have the night off, and you expect to spend it with him.

“oh, i…,” he reacts deflatingly, “well, i was going to ask you if you wanted to see me play tonight, but…” he explains, fixing his gaze on the floor, looking interested in the carpet, and anywhere in the room except you. “i don't want you to think that i'm inviting you because ning ning told you that we were going to play. i was actually going to ask you when we were packing, but i messed it up, right?" ends with a question, waiting. studying your features. “we can drop you off at your house, on the way to…”.

“i have nothing to do,” you quickly confess, catching the boy off guard. you deny several times, not believing how foolish and desperate you sound. however, there is no going back. “i mean, i remembered that…,” i have nothing to do, you want to say, “i want to see you play,” you finish.

his brown eyes caress yours, before sliding to your lips. her mind meshes thoughts, his face gives them away. your gaze travels over his tanned skin. eyes, nose, mouth. lips parted, holding a prayer. you lick your lips in an involuntary gesture, returning to his gaze, shadowed. his eyes search yours, pupils dilated, asking for permission, before leaning dangerously towards you. your lips almost brushing against each other, your mind evoking the sweet taste of liquor in his mouth on the day of the party.

“okay, guys, we're leaving now,” ning ning announces, clapping her hands several times, drawing everyone's attention. the atmosphere of the moment breaks. mark sends you a pained look, before taking the last cable and encouraging you to follow him outside. the look of donghyuck throwing knives in your direction.

the journey is quite pleasant, the opposite of what you expect. the atmosphere is loaded with jokes and laughter between them, and you as if seeing everything from the outside. laughing, but not interacting. mark has noticed that you are thinking, and has put an arm around your shoulders, drawing you to him. “oh god, i remembered something,” ning ning says, in the front seat, “mark, thank god you decided to show up. donghyuck was about to pull his hair out with his bare hands,” she reports, emphasizing with her hands. donghyuck, next to her, snorts.

"well, it was for a good cause," the black-haired man defends himself, "i was celebrating something."

karina gets interested, “wait, you're dating?” she asks, astonished, before immediately hitting jeno's shoulder. “you owe me twenty dollars,” announced. you are stunned by their interaction, listening to ning ning whistle and share a look with mark, who laughs, waving a hand. “no, not that,” the boy replies, searching your gaze for approval, “yn will present his play at the theater in town,” he finally announces.

there is a reaction shared by the band members. chenle raises his eyebrows slightly, jeno and karina let out a "wow." and ning ning whistles again. "that's great, yn!" congratulates the girl, "don't you think so?" she asks the boy next to her, who simply says “quite a lot.” glancing fleetingly in the rearview mirror. "hey! watch out for the driver,” he protests when ning ning smacks his arm, joking.

you finally arrive at the place where they will play tonight. a bar on the outskirts of seoul. inside, loud music plays in surround style. drinks come and go. mark hands you a beer, which you swallow with difficulty. “yo-dream,” they roar, clasping their hands in the middle of the circle, preparing for the introduction.

the lights dimmed as the band take the stage. the crowd erupt in cheers. ning ning's voice greets the audience, and before long, the band start playing. all attention on her, ethereal. it fits perfectly with the music. chenle joining as second vocalist.

«i know it's real, i can feel it.

난 문제 투성이 love sick. i'm full of problems.

길이 없었어. there was no way.

죽어도 좋았어. i wish i could die.

i'm a loser in this game.»

they have the audience spellbound. singing the lyrics as if they are in a spell, and ning ning is the cause. with her pale skin, with a siren voice. she even catches the eyes of the band members. captivating. chenle glances in her direction, jeno sometimes looks at her, before turning back to the audience, donghyuck, hidden behind ning ning, seems to be staring at her, even though for a moment you think he is actually looking at you.

«please use me like a drug.»

your eyes go to mark, surprising you to see them already looking at you. it feels fascinating to watch. he has donned a tank top, which shows off his chiseled arms and collarbones. his black hair falls to all sides, which he combs back from time to time, leaving his forehead free. the lighting frames his angular features. his wet lips from constantly licking them part, in concentration, while his fingers strum notes on the guitar. the muscles in his arms tensing under his smooth skin.

you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to touch them. soft under your touch, warm. steady, as it looms over you. staring at you, from above, before bringing his mouth closer to yours. his pelvis rubbing against you. donghyuck's suspicious look on stage takes you off guard, taking you out of your thoughts.

your breath quickens at your thoughts. blurring look. you pull yourself together by casting glances around you, thankful that they can't read minds and your wild guesses.

the band eventually says goodbye. you go behind karina to the backstage, looking for mark. you find him keeping his guitar in the lining, a smile blooming on your lips before donghyuck appears in your way. you are about to hit his body if you aren't faster. your eyes meet.

the malicious desire to reprimand him for watching where he was going grows at the base of your throat. however, you remember that you will try to be nice to him for mark's sake, so you clear your throat, in an attempt to prepare yourself. “it was fabulous,” you admit, making no effort to lie. the truth is, it has been wonderful, but saying that to donghyuck would cause his ego to grow.

you watch him frown, and you almost want to roll your eyes. “hey… i guess for both of us's sake we can try being nice,” you ask expectantly, watching him take his hands out of the pockets of his leather jacket. one holds a cigarette box, and the other he holds it to you. the rings on his long fingers send chills from your hand to the rest of your body.

truce.

“congratulations on your work,” he says, before breaking hand contact. “it was obvious that they were going to want to present it at the town theater. i liked it,” he adds, causing you to look at him in disbelief. “you haven't even seen it,” you object.

donghyuck is silent as if debating whether to say it or not. in the end, his lips part and he pronounces “yes, i did.”.

you take his confession seriously when you reply “i thought you hated them,” accusing him, unable to avoid it. "what makes you think that?" he asks calmly. "because you said it. you hate them the same way you hate me,” you reply, “remember?” the memory flashes across his face, finally laughing through his nose. “so you do remember,” you mutter. “something i said in fourth grade? of course,” he sneers.

"that doesn't mean you didn't say it."

“i was a boy, yn,” he pronounces. “sometimes kids talk nonsense,” he continues. “like saying they hate something when they really like it,” he finishes, fixing his gaze on you, taking your breath away. "i have never hated you."

there it is, again. that unknown sensation seizing you, confusing your senses. your mind blurs, and nothing coherent is able to form, under the penetrating gaze of the boy, absorbed in his own thoughts. his eyes, which always look like strong coffee, melt like a shot of expresso. an exhalation leaves his lips, snapping you out of your reverie.

“well…, your comment started our feud,” you expound. “mmm…” he mumbles, looking right through you. “just the result i didn't want, i'm afraid,” he says, before gesturing to the cigarette box in farewell and moving on to ning ning. you, in response, go to mark.

“hey… have you seen…?” he inquires when he sees you approach, however, he stops mid-sentence when you take him by the shoulders off guard and bring your face closer to his.

your hand goes to his neck, soaked in sweat, drawing him towards you, merging your lips with his. kissing them testing them. his hands go to your lower back, closer. his mouth opens slightly, deepening the kiss.

you hang on his neck when you feel his tongue slide into your mouth, impregnated with beer and mint. moving your face for more access, his movements turn from cautious to agitated. suddenly feeling watched; across the room, someone looking back at you. you break the kiss against your will by running out of breath. you hear mark swallow slowly, before directing his lips to your cheeks, leaving a trail of kisses. your eyes turn away from donghyuck as your hands, still on mark's neck, close in a hug, breathing in his scent. “wow,” he sighs, “i think i'm getting used to being kissed off guard,” he teases, circling your waist.

after the concert, you go back to the garage of donghyuck's house: the band's refuge. jeno and karina are in a corner, where jeno is trying to teach her how to use the bass. mark has taken a seat on the single sofa, with you on his lap, chenle is on the long sofa, stretched out and staring up at the ceiling with the beer can on his stomach, and donghyuck has taken the coffee table

“tell us more about your play, yn,” ning ning urges, sprawled between chenle's legs, before taking a swallow of her drink.

“oh, it's romeo and juliet,” you report, “the contemporary version,” you add. “great,” ning ning admits. “by the way,” jeno says, walking over to the group and forcing chenle up to give him and karina a seat. "you haven't told us if we want to be in it again, did we do so badly in romeo and juliet?" he asks, sharing a look with karina.

"no, you do great," you confess, feeling nervous. it's true that you should ask your characters if they want to continue being part of the cast for the presentation in the theater, but the truth is, an unconscious desire has stopped you from doing so. "the truth is… I want to be in it for the first time before, you know, graduate," you admit, "i'm not sure I'm going to direct a play again, and...".

"don't say that," mark demands. "you're wonderful at directing," he assures, giving you a stern look.

"you'd do well as juliet, i bet," karina says, glancing back at jeno, who nods. "i'm willing to play romeo if you wish," he agrees.

"or..." chenle's voice comes. "mark could be," he opines, shrugging his shoulders. mark's eyes widen in astonishment. "wait, are you serious?" he stammers. ning Ning shrugs. "just saying." his brown eyes search yours for answers. "if Shakespeare accepts me, my answer will always be yes," he concedes, a peculiar twinkle in his eye.

you don't know why you feel horrible.

act three.

"benvolio? are you playing?" jisung's eyes widen in a battle of emotions. disbelief. emotion. intrigue. ecstasy.

you nod several times. "mmm..." you state. "you're the ideal candidate. you know the lines, and you almost defeated renjun at the auditions," you explain. "i still don't know why i didn't get the role..." he comments, meditating. you touch his shoulder gently. "that's because you were ideal to be my assistant. call me selfish," you confess.

the fact is that the work is next week. the fact that jisung is playing benvolio has nothing to do with the fact that time is not in your favor. the boy knows the lines and has been renjun's substitute in the last play. honestly, he is the perfect benvolio. also, you have to focus all your attention on teaching mark his lines. it's quite a difficult process because you both spend more time making out than practicing the scenes. it's hard to avoid it. look at his lips as he recites the words of romeo. his hands, with long fingers, touching his chest covered by a linen shirt. it's hard to contain the urge to kiss him right then and there. more difficult to contain the thread of your thoughts about that transparent garment.

"wow, being an actor is really hard," he decides on the way home, letting out a whistle that he accompanies by shaking his head. "i see why you're always in a bad mood," he confesses. the car is silent for a few seconds as you give him a reproachful look before his laughter fills the air. "i was kidding," he admits. "lousy, by the way," you comment before stroking his hair, smiling. it's your favorite thing. running your fingers through it. combing it. especially for what usually comes with it: mark's little moans into your mouth when you kiss.

after the first kiss, you're doubtful about the next step. you find yourself sinking into the depths of your thoughts while looking at him. the desire warming your chest, feeling your heavy tongue when someone decides to talk to you in those moments. and you know mark thinks about it too, yet every time a kiss escalates in intensity, mark stops.

you both want it to be special.

"you haven't played anymore?" you ask when he falls silent. "yes, small places," he explains by tapping on the flyer, "but i thought you didn't want to go since we've been busy with the play, and performances are late at night. i thought you deserved to sleep." you observe his profile, and you lean in to leave a kiss on his jaw. "i always want to go," you whisper in his ear. you hear him chuckle slightly. "really?" "mmm..." you mumble. your lips leave kisses on his ear, down his jaw and neck. you hear him swallow hard, his breathing becoming ragged.

after seeing them play that night, you find yourself wanting to see it again. it's the first time you've experienced something like that, the emotion, the ecstasy of the moment. especially what comes after each presentation. the intimate moment in donghyuck's garage, where they chat about anecdotes and joke with each other while low music sets the scene. friends. that's how it feels.

now that you and donghyuck have declared a truce, everything is more enjoyable. your body no longer tenses, the knot in your stomach is almost imperceptible. the atmosphere is no longer tense between you. finally, both are beginning to realize that it isn't so horrible to be in each other's company. watching him laugh so easily while joking with chenle. maybe it isn't as terrible as you imagined.

"shit," mark growls seconds before the car stops moving. he manages to park it on the side of the highway, both stunned, gaping at the car slowly lifeless. mark tries to start the engine, to no avail, cursing under his breath. "wait here," he speaks before opening the door. "do you want me to call a mechanic?" you propose, sticking your head out the window, and watching him head for the hood. "no need," he mutters, glancing over. "although…," you watch his face light up as he comes up with a solution. "could you call donghyuck?" "i don't have his number," you reply, watching him approach the passenger door and holding out his phone to you in response.

you take the cell phone in your hands, not believing what you're about to do. the phone rings three times before the boy's voice floods the line. "you're late. again," is the first thing he says, in a monotone. "uh…, it's yn," you clarify. you take your silence as a hint to keep talking. "hey, mark's car broke down on the highway on the way to your house," you report. "mark said to call you," you finish.

"tell mark i'm on my way," he replies. you thank in a low voice, ready to hang up when his voice stops you from doing so. "why didn't you call from your phone?" he asks, a tone that reveals curiosity in his voice. "i don't have your number," you reveal, feeling embarrassed. you hear his laughter fill the earpiece. mark becomes interested when he hears you laugh. "did he answer you?" he asks, leaning over the driver's door. "he said he'll be here in ten minutes," you reply. "we're really sorry," mark apologizes to the other members.

mark returns to the space inside the car, leaning back in the seat, and blocking glances. your hand reach for his cheek. the passing headlights of cars on the freeway illuminating his profile. “well, this is humiliating,” he mutters, referring to the accident. you deny, smiling, however, you could tell that he was hesitating. you lean in and place a small kiss on his lips, in an attempt to reassure him, lifting your body from the seat when it increases in intensity. mark welcomed you into his lap as you climbed in, tilting the seat back for more comfort. his hands going to your hips, while yours traced circles on the soft skin of his neck. feeling him under you.

leans towards you, leaving several kisses on your lips. you laughed without avoiding it. “mark,” you point out. “mmm…it's addictive,” he apologizes. “your lips always taste like strawberries,” he confesses, and you feel yourself swoon as you lean in to kiss him.

a sigh leaves his lips as you slowly moved your hips against him. your pulse soaring in your ears when you could feel it. getting hard against your crotch. you move over him again, back and forth, your lips parted with the sensation. the bulge in his crotch pushing against you. your face contracting as a wave of pleasure hit your body. "mark..." you moan.

two sharp blows sent them both into a spasm. as promised, donghyuck looks at you through the car's tinted glass. you rush down from mark's lap, as the boy lowers the window. “hey,” he greets. donghyuck looks down at both, arching his brow. he knows.

he clears his throat, glancing at the highway, disinterested, before opening the driver's door, prompting mark to get out of the car. the black-haired man gives you a short look before getting off.

you cover your face once you make sure both guys aren't paying attention to you. embarrassed, ashamed. fearing that he has heard you. fearing that he has seen them through the glass.

they return to the car minutes later. finally come to life. by the time they start back toward donghyuck's house, the sun has gone down.

"we're really sorry," mark apologizes to the other members. the breakdown has taken up the time they were going to allocate to practice. although the apology is directed towards everyone, donghyuck responds.

"it doesn't matter," he replies.

they end up playing jealousy, jealousy and shinunoga e-wa. the way home is quite silent. no one is joking, and no one is chatting. you even come to believe that they are avoiding you. mark doesn't even notice when you tell him about it when you get to the garage. "maybe we're all exhausted, we've been playing various places the last few days," he tries, but you don't buy it. "i'll go talk to him," you inform him before heading out to find him.

the marlboro trail leads you to it. and ning ning. you fear you are interrupting the hectic conversation they are both having, ready to talk to him at another time. after all, neither of them has noticed you. however, one word catches your eye.

"what will you do when she sees us, huh?" hisses ning ning. "you can't help it forever, hyuck," he adds, taking a short silence that he uses to take an inspired drag on the cigarette in his bony fingers.

you hear donghyuck complain. "she's going to kill me," he assures. "she'll still kill you if you don't tell her."

that conversation is not making sense to you. you are hesitating between interrupting them or leaving, noting that the conversation is heading towards private territory. you don't feel good eavesdropping, especially if that conversation turns out to be a confession between them. but a million unknowns float in your mind. who are they talking about?

"we just reconciled a few days ago. you can't expect me to tell her and have her hate me again. i don't want to ruin it," his confession catches you off guard. the tone of his voice reveals the effort it takes to say it out loud. reconcile with whom?

"she's going to find out sooner or later," ning ning states.

you don't have to connect the dots to conclude that they are talking about you. however, you can't find out about what.

"what do i have to find out?" you ask, finally stepping out of the darkness. donghyuck seems to have seen a ghost, and ning ning simply disappears into the house. "what don't you want to tell me?" you reformulate.

he recovers almost immediately, getting up from the wall where he was leaning and approaching you, menacingly. "who do you think you are, sneaking into conversations that don't concern you?" he accuses, towering over you. "don't try to change the subject." you threaten, discovering his intentions. "what is it that i can't find out?" you ask again.

donghyuck ignores your questions and enters the house, with you on his heels and recriminating him. it's true; you aren't going to give up that easily. with every step donghyuck takes, the chances of finding out what he and ning ning are talking about go with him. you can't let it happen.

donghyuck stops abruptly when you stand between him and his path of escape. your hand instinctively closes on his jacket, preventing him from moving. you look at him sternly, causing him to shoot daggers at you with his eyes. the discussion catches the attention of the others, peeking into the hallway where you and donghyuck are having a staring contest.

"listen to me," he says. "it's a huge opportunity," he begins, and as he explains, your brow furrows more and more in confusion. "i couldn't say no, okay?" he urges, looking at you with pleading eyes.

the realization hits you in the stomach as you realize where the conversation is heading. you feel his hand put on yours, but you break the contact as if it burns. “you… idiot,” you declare, feeling your voice burn in your throat.

you push past him on your way out of the house, hearing him call behind you. you turn a deaf ear to their calls, your mind plunging into the purest anger you've ever felt in your life. how could you have let your guard down? how could you think that you and donghyuck could be friends?

"yn, please."

"leave me alone!" you roar. “i… i'm a fool,” you continue, watching him deny. "yes, I am." you agree. "i should congratulate you; you've won, okay?" you admit.

"what's going on?" mark's voice comes from behind them, causing them to turn their attention to him. “let's give him the good news,” you propose. “dream society will be performing at the town theater,” you inform, feeling donghyuck tense. “his leader wanted to give you the news, but he thought it would be better to wait until I left so i wouldn't find out until the day of the presentation,” you conspire. "probably because he wanted to see my stupid face when i saw you."

mark looks at you, and the absence of surprise weighs heavily in your stomach. "you knew?".

"yn..." he tries to call you, tries to pull you out of the hole you've fallen into, the one you've been pushed into, by his hands, by donghyuck's, by everyone's. he looks at you and you feel like dying, but it's his voice from behind that make the execution.

"yn..." you interrupt him, accusing him with your finger. "you always have to take everything away from me, huh?" you spit “whatever you wanted to prove, well done, you proved it,” you add before walking away, not looking back.

act four.

“you're leaving in ten minutes,” the av assistant reports, peering into the dressing room.

the truth is that you are more than ready. you have fixed yourself in record time, just to be able to review and coordinate with others. the scenery is on stage, the seats are filling up. extras are in their costumes. everything is going smoothly, except for one thing.

it has been a week since you last went to a dream society presentation. mark seems to understand why. just seeing donghyuck's face makes you want to vomit bile. the best thing you can do is break all contact with him, in hopes of extinguishing that knot that oppresses your chest.

jisung comes out from behind the screen to show you his outfit. you tilt your head, watching the boy before reaching over and combing his hair. “better,” you declare.

you look at your phone for the fifteenth time tonight. no notifications. no messages from mark. romeo is not there.

"seven minutes!"

“shit,” you mumble, drawing the attention of the people in the dressing room. the last thing you want is for them to get stressed knowing that a major part of the work is missing, so you smile.

he is not answering the phone either, and boy did you do it more times than you wanted to admit. he has simply disappeared. a part of you begins to fret, plotting the most terrible thing you can think of. mark would have to be on his way to the theater if he is going to perform with the band afterward. it is unlikely that he would not come when he should. if it is not for the work, for the presentation of his band. a thought surges, like poison. what if donghyuck is behind all this? what if mark being romeo was donghyuck's plan to humiliate you in front of the whole town? you are on the verge of collapse.

"five minutes!".

"shut up!" you receive shocked looks from everyone in the dressing room.

without saying a word, you leave the room. you do not notice jisung following you. "something happens?" he asks. finally, you break down, “romeo…mark doesn't show up,” you correct. your gaze clouds; a moan tears from your throat even when you try to stifle it. jisung pulls you closer to him in a hug. "not a biggy." he reassures. you hear him hum, thinking. "jeno?" he suggests.

“it will take more than five minutes to get here,” you comment. besides, if donghyuck and mark are behind all of this, jeno is surely behind it too. “renjun,” he utters. you walk away, compiling yourself. it is not like you to whine. you must be looking for solutions. “he only knows benvolio lines,” you recall.

“huh,” you hear jisung utter. although when you look for his gaze, it is at a point behind you. your eyes go to the place where he is looking, holding your breath.

“mark's car broke down.” donghyuck approaches carefully, as if a sudden movement could break you.

“three minutes!”.

“we need mark,” you say in his direction. “he's not going to make it, yn,” he says, studying your features. “shit, shit.” jisung raises his hands to his head.

"is he coming?" you ask, fearing the answer, "or is he the final piece of your plan?" he tries to maintain a neutral expression, but you know him, you know when your words hit home, and this is one of them. however, you don't find victory in it, much less comfort. "i don't think mark would do anything to hurt you," he says sincerely. "and you?" you say without thinking.

"two minutes!"

“wait,” jisung says, drawing your attention. "you…" he hesitates to look at you when his eyes land on donghyuck. “you've seen the play a couple of times. in rehearsals, right?" both gazes fall on donghyuck, waiting for the dark-haired man's response.

donghyuck just nods slowly.

do you know the lines of romeo?" you ask, trying to hide your astonishment. "yes, i've read something."

"they're out in a minute!"

"jisung, take him to the dressing room. we have to improvise a bit," you announce. jisung steps forward, showing him the way to the dressing rooms, but you stop donghyuck before he gets away. "if this is another one of your jokes, you bet i'll go for your head," you hiss, watching him nod, looking at the bottom of your face to avoid looking at you.

«these violent delights,

have violent ends.»

the play starts, and the whole time, you are holding your breath. you force yourself to take slow breaths and stay calm. even if it goes wrong, it's not the end of the world. in any case, it would be the end of your career. nothing to worry about. you come out in your scenes and deliver every single line you know by heart. it's nothing new to say them; you always knew them. it's the experience, for the first time in front of the public. your body feels light, the moment feels unreal.

your body tenses when jisung and donghyuck come on stage almost halfway through the play. they exchange a dialogue.

"are you in love?" jisung asks, looking at donghyuck. you bite your lips, thinking of a prayer. "out," he replies. "of love?" jisung inquires benevolently. donghyuck's gaze goes to the boy. his features show nothing more than the ghost of a lament. "the one that i love doesn't love me back," he utters, his words emitting sadness to the public, his look causing a pang in your heart.

the scene changes to another. one by one, the work is coming to an end. you can glimpse the band members in the audience. jeno and chenle give you thumbs up, and you have to try not to laugh right then and there.

until the scene you had practiced with mark comes. many times. in rehearsals. backstage. in your car.

donghyuck delivers each of his lines to perfection. it's a little contradictory that he would have remembered them all just by reading the work once. although you don't underestimate it. donghyuck is pretty smart, you know that, and he knows many topics. you've seen him chat with the members when they're relaxing after a performance. so when you witness the emotions he inspires in each of his words, you can't help but believe that he really means them.

then he leans towards you, and impulsively you do too. he has removed the rings from his fingers when he places his hand on your cheek, his face moving closer to yours. your eyes close, feeling his breath mix with yours. your lips finally meet, and he explodes in your chest.

donghyuck kisses you slowly, and you feel your body melt into the other's mouth, savoring the kiss. his body hovers over you, causing a shadow, hiding the desire of the public. feeling his silky lips against yours, you find yourself wanting more. but the kiss doesn't last more than five seconds, and the moment comes to an end when donghyuck's body moves away from you, and you fall into the realization of your thoughts as you kiss him.

and like some sort of magnetic feeling, your eyes travel to a dark corner of the theater. a single figure stands there, as if heading backstage without being seen by the audience, but stops at the last second to witness this exact moment.

you both leave the stage, avoiding each other.

"well done," jaemin congratulates, in the role of mercutio. "it's not over yet," you both answer at the same time. jaemin stares at you, hiding his amusement. "break a leg," he wishes, watching you go off in opposite directions.

shit, what just happened?

the work finishes wonderfully. mark appears backstage, apologizing until he's breathless. he explains that on the way to the theater, his car breaks down, and he has to call a tow truck. his phone dies after calling and notifying donghyuck, with no way to contact you. you can tell that he really feels it. you reassure him that you aren't upset and that it isn't his fault. the last thing you want is for him not to do his best in his presentation by thinking about that kind of nonsense.

the band goes up shortly after the play. those from the drama club watch the performance from the wings, deciding that the views are the best. as always, ning ning introduces the band. her harmonious voice is heard through the speakers of the town theater. "this song is called 'strawberries & cigarettes,'" she announces.

act five.

your body feels like it's floating with mark next to you. the van is full of glee and ready to burst. jisung, jaemin, and renjun have joined in the celebration, causing them to be crammed into the seats. finally, the wars and disputes have ended.

the entire school of arts attends the celebration to bid farewell to the last semester.

the dreams have gathered in the patio of the place, toasting with beer and laughing. "i dreamt a dream tonight," you're surprised to hear donghyuck recite romeo and juliet. jaemin replies, "and so did i," before taking a drink of his beer. "well, what was yours?" you ask. "that dreamers often lie," he utters.

that little scene makes you remember something that had surfaced in your mind after the presentation of his song. your attention goes to the boy next to you. mark has been silent since they left the theater, his face reflecting nothing more than sheer absence. lost in thought, you leave a little kiss on his cheek; you don't want him to continue to torture himself thinking that he failed you in the play, so you come up with something. "by the way," you hear a small "mmm…" before muttering, just to him, "strawberries and cigarettes?" you ask, funny. your attempt to get his attention pays off. "mm…" he agrees, absorbed. "donghyuck named it," he declares, looking at you as if he wanted to find something before looking away, perhaps finding what he was looking for.

you stay hanging, in automatic mode, with a lost look. looking for donghyuck by inertia. their eyes meet, transmitting endless emotions without labels.

the night takes its course, but you get stuck at that moment. watching everyone have fun, toasting, dancing. mark has broken away from your side at one point, and at another, someone handed you a beer that you declined as best you could. the party fades until the members scatter again in the place where you stayed all night.

by the end of the night, everyone is all drunk, except you.

you help jaemin pick up the empty cans and put them in a garbage bag. jeno has taken renjun inside the house when the boy fell asleep on the grass. chenle is throwing up in a bush, and jisung doesn't let go of ning ning for a second, who is smoking calmly next to him.

"have you seen mark?" you ask him. she just shrugs. "i think i saw him leave in his car," she comments.

when the temperature begins to drop, they all go inside the house. "okay, let's divvy up the rooms," jaemin proposes. in the end, chenle and jisung take the giant sofa in the living room, and jaemin settles for a sheet and a cushion on the floor. donghyuck appears just at that moment. "you can take my bed," he offers in the direction of you, ning ning, and karina; jeno says that she will sleep in the van, and by default, donghyuck takes the sofa from the garage.

once everything is decided, everyone goes to bed.

to your and ning ning's surprise, karina has been asleep since before the party ended. in a deep sleep, it's hard to wake her up. you and ning ning lie down on either side of her motionless body.

no matter how hard you try to fall asleep, it's impossible. you can barely get into the bed, not a very comfortable position, and ning ning and karina have taken over the sheets. you stare at the ceiling in silence, debating whether you should just try to sleep or stay awake, considering that it's almost dawn.

however, you end up ruling out both options. your feet take you to the corridor as if they have a life of their own, although deep inside you know that they are paying attention to your deepest desires. trying not to wake anyone, you stop in the middle of the room, realizing how pathetic and desperate your decisions make you look.

"are you going to stay there and watch me sleep?" donghyuck mutters. you see his silhouette sit up on the sofa. it's too late to regret it. "don't you have another sheet?" you ask, watching him sit on the couch. the light hardly enters to see his features, but you can feel his gaze crushing you. "i'm afraid not; i've given them to the dreamies," he explains.

"oh, okay. i'm sorry; i'll let you sleep then," you say, making the move to leave.

"stay." you hear him say clearing his throat before continuing. "uh…we can share mine."

“i don't think it's a good idea,” you think aloud. “you're drunk,” you point out, quickly clarifying, “i didn't mean you're going to do something; i'm just saying it because you'll regret this in the morning.” when you can see him stir.

“i don't think i'm going to regret making sure you're okay,” he says.

there was. the dilemma. to leave. or to stay. donghyuck or…

“okay,” you whisper.

you close the distance between them, watching donghyuck make room for you on the sofa. he passes the sheet over your bodies before laying his head next to you. your bodies so close. legs trying not to get tangled. your hands brushing his chest. “you're shaking,” he comments. you don't know if it's just because of the cold. "i'm sorry," you apologize.

you feel his hand looking for yours under the sheet, taking them to his lips, expelling his warm breath. you are disconcerted when you don't smell a trace of liquor, coming to think that perhaps accusing him of being drunk had been your pathetic excuse. "better?" he asks. you nod slightly. the dim lighting barely reveals his smile. his eyes close sleepily, and you fear that this is the last chance to say it; he would slip out of your reach.

“donghyuck,” you call. his eyes widen again, warming your insides. "i…" god, why did it cost you so much? “it's okay,” he says. “i want to say it,” you murmur. you see him pay attention. “i'm sorry to tell you all those…things. i'm a stupid. it was a giant opportunity, and i just ruined that special moment with my attitude and… i'm so sorry.” your gaze clouds over with contained tears. “it's okay to hate me for the rest of your life,” you sob.

your words are followed by silence, coupled with donghyuck's rhythmic breathing. you feel his lips rest on your forehead. “i thought you would know by now,” he murmurs. you look up to meet his gaze. dark, as if the stars of the night sky had been swallowed. “i could never hate you,” he confesses. his eyes close by inertia under your gaze. “after all, all my love songs are for you,” he reveals, so low, for your ears only. he keeps his eyes closed, as if afraid of finding rejection if he saw you.

your hands go to his cheeks, prompting him to look at you. you study his features, scanning his face in the dark, although you don't need to see to know where his moles paint his face. "careful," he warns when your gaze lingers on his lips for a longer time.

your mouth imagines what they taste like this time if you try them. marlboro. beer. sweet.

a gasp escapes your lips unconsciously, catching donghyuck off guard. your tongue holds a plea, which doesn't need to leave your mouth when what you ask for is fulfilled.

donghyuck's lips devour your mouth fervently with hungry kisses, wanting to appease a long-held desire, wanting to stop a flood of suppressed emotions.

your hands run through his chest, shoulders, and neck, eventually getting into his dark hair, hearing a moan die in your half-open mouth. his body hovers over yours, your legs wrap around his waist, a flame burning in your chest, numbing your common sense, letting yourself be carried away by desire. him, all your senses scream. him. him. him.

his movements become erratic, clumsy, desperate, trying to melt into each other, trying to kiss everywhere, touch everywhere. his hips thrust into your hips in an unexpected movement, feeling his erection against your belly.

your gazes meet between gasps.

"i don't..." you start saying, seeing him open his eyes with blows. “shit, forgive me,” he hastens to say. the very thought made your hands shoot up his arms, stopping him. “no, no,” you utter, making what you meant to say clear. “i…want…i want you to,” you confess, relieved that he hadn't brought up the intrinsic drawback you were both aware of.

“i just…” you continue, “it's the first time i…, you know, i've done it,” you finally say, waiting for his reaction. all you got was donghyuck's deep look. "it's also the first time for me," he answers.

the confession caught you off guard, sitting up on your elbows, almost impacting your foreheads. he had caught you off guard. you never would have imagined. that the boy that he belonged to a gang and misbehavior would not have had his first sexual experience. "shit," you exclaim, "are you sure...?" you asked, being interrupted mid-sentence by him. “yes,” he states, without a stutter. “i want it to be you,” he confesses.

your heart was about to explode. “i want it to be you too,” you agree, before donghyuck kisses you.

between kisses, he deposited you back on the comfortable surface of the sofa. your hands caressed his back when his lips moves to your neck and clavicle. hair tickling your cheeks. smile tasting like honey. his moans just for you to hear. his caresses bristling your skin as his fingers leave their prints on your hips, legs, and arms. inserting them under your shirt, cupping your breasts, brushing your nipples.

your back arch. further. further. further. lifting his shirt, stopping in mid-kiss to pull it over his head. admiring for a few seconds his bare chest. tracing an imaginary path to his belly button with your finger, listening to him breathe heavily. your mouths met again as if all this time they had needed each other. hands down your waist, fingers brushing your belly. "may i?" a question. a yes as an answer.

you feel his fingers get lost under your pants, letting out a gasp when he found his way to your intimate area. putting pressure on it, before drawing small circles. the pleasant sensation of their movements causing your eyes to fix on the ceiling, blinking when you feel your mind cloudy.

donghyuck stimulates your clit with a leisurely rhythm, leaving wet kisses on your neck and shoulders, deciding that your shirt was unnecessary, and ending up on the floor next to his. thumb deciding to leave short little touches as his fingers trailed down into your folds, awakening all your nerve endings.

while everyone slept, your silent gasps and the sound of your wetness crackled in the air.

your legs go numb while a pleasant wave invades you. "that's ok?" he asks shyly. fearing that your voice would betray you, you nod effusively. your hands instinctively going to the place where he was touching you. you got up enough to see his hand move nimbly, hidden by your pants. donghyuck watched you raise your hips and with agitated movements, started to take off your pants. his hand stops its movements, and you almost feel faint.

with one less garment, you go for his pants. donghyuck leans back on the sofa, watching you sit up and remove the piece of cloth, his hips moving up to help you. dark underwear coming out in sight, hiding a bulge underneath. "can i?" you ask the same question, looking at his eyes, the brown completely consumed by his pupils. "always."

a stain darker than the rest of the cloth reveals wetness. your hands went to his crotch, above the cloth. the moisture confirmed your suspicions: precum. you position yourself on the ground, between his legs, watching donghyuck throw his head back, you lick your lips before pulling out his member. beads of semen adorned the tip and without warning. looking prominent and big, you wonder how it'll fit in you. feeling soft yet hard, delicate and pink at the tip, with a visible vein that disappears under the base. you lean in. your warm breath hitting his penis makes him let out a small gasp. your tongue lick the drops of precum, putting the flushed head in your mouth, warm and rigid, causing him to let out a moan. the citrus flavor took you by surprise, gently sucking on the tip, hoping not to waste a drop.

“you're going to kill me,” you hear him say, before taking his full length into your mouth. your cheeks puffed out and your brow furrowed as the tip grazed your throat, pulling it out immediately and meeting the boy's gaze. like this? they ask his contorted features gave you the answer.

a line of kisses from the tip to the base, and back up, putting it in your mouth, pulling it out, and repeating the process while bobbing your head. his small moans letting you know you were doing a good job. his hands on your neck and hair, pulling him out of the picture. your hands going to the base of his member, touching his testicles and watching him tense up. finding yourself loving his whiny voice, his guttural sounds, the feel on your tongue, the trace of his flavor, wanting to taste more.

his hands take you away without warning from him. breaking contact. you watch him breathe heavily, and then watch him struggle to form a sentence. “you,” he says, on an exhalation. "i want you."

your chest explode in a supernova-like explosion. a hot sensation hit your stomach.

"do you have… ?" you see him rummage through his pants pockets. "yes."

his hands search for yours in the dim room, helping you up from the floor. finding your way into his lap. your legs are positioned on each side of his waist, putting all your weight on his thighs, in front of his erect dick hitting his stomach. your chin is lifted up by his hand when you get lost contemplate his masculinity, salivating in desire of having it again in your mouth, taste again his seed. the other hand leaving your hips to open the condom. “why did you have a condom in your pants?” you asked with genuine curiosity. his brown eyes looked at you. “i'm prepared,” he jokes, "i didn't know exactly the time you'd want it so i always carried it."

"shut up," you chuckle.

his mouth trail kisses from your chest to your stomach, lifting you slightly until you feel him at your entrance. hand looking for yours. intertwining. sharing glances as you slowly lower on him.

submerged in the coffee of his eyes, you feel him sink into you. a sharp pain expanding inside you, adjusting to the unknown. donghyuck stays still, watching you scrunch your face into a grimace showing him discomfort. he doesn't move until you push your hips into his. you need to feel it. you wanted it so much.

donghyuck expands your walls, the pain becoming imperceptible, pleasurable. a gasp escapes your lips. “hyuck,” you gasp.

his face is hidden in your chest. “feels…,” he whispers, “very good,” he finishes, before hugging you and pulling you close. the sudden movement causing both to moan for the friction of your bodies intertwined, moving with him.

your hands seek support on his shoulders, arching your hip, feeling it. propelling you up and down again, a slight burn in your groin. your mind going wild knowing that the reason was him. his half-open mouth letting out small pants, which you voluntarily let die in your mouth when you kiss him. clumsily you both laugh.

your face hiding in his neck when your legs trembled. pausing only a little because of the spasms that attacked your lower body, before continuing. increasingly erratic. each time faster. desperate.

"shit." the sound of your sticky arousal driving donghyuck insane, accompanying his hectic breaths. his desperate hands running through your entire body, while a knot grows in your crotch and expands through your belly, numbing your senses.

donghyuck collapses, as the orgasm drains him. holding you close, marking his footprints on your skin. a sharp pang tearing your breath away, before the knot finally came undone, whipping your nerve endings into sweet ecstasy.

slowing down your ride, until it was just small unconscious stimulating movements, still present from the previous episode. rocking your body while feeling him twitching against your walls, coated with your velvety arousal, sensing it slipping out every time you go down on it, shaky “i have to pull it out…,” you hear him say, “before… it stops being erect” he murmurs, receiving a short nod from you.

his hands goes to the base of his member, extracting it from your warmth. your lips leave short kisses on his temple, watching him handle the wrapping with skillful hands, before leading them both towards the comfortable surface of the sofa. his arms encircled your waist. "someone can see us like this" you whisper, remembering the pair of young adults in the next room.

donghyuck leans over and picked up his shirt from the floor, holding it out. “it's really hot all of a sudden,” he says, making excuses for why he was still naked. you put on his shirt between laughs, accepting donghyuck's invitation to lie on his chest. you hear his heart beat slowly.

"so..." you spoke again after a few seconds. “so, strawberries & cigarettes…,” you mention. you felt donghyuck's laughter rumble in his chest. "for you".

"what about lovesong?"

"same."

you meditated for a few seconds. “jealousy, jealousy?” ask now. “you'll have to ask ning ning,” he says, implying that the girl had written the song.

you couldn't contain the smile that form on your lips. again that feeling that warm your chest. love, now you understand.

“hyuck…,” you call, “don't fall asleep.” you could see the smile on his face. discovering your intentions. “we just did it and you want to do it again?” he mock. "you read my mind," he murmurs, before looming over you.

act six.

a tangle of limbs, that's what you notice first, and the absence of noise.

you sit up on the sofa, rubbing your eyes. memories of the night before overwhelm your senses. donghyuck is fast asleep, so you maneuver with difficulty not to wake him up, taking your clothes and deciding to go out and investigate why everything seems so quiet.

the first thing you see is chenle and renjun in the kitchen, preparing a bowl of cereal. joining them, jisung and jaemin eat quietly at the kitchen island. “good morning, boss,” jisung greets. three pairs of eyes shoot your way. “uh, jisung, you can call me yn.” the boy just nods.

"cereals?" chenle asks, in your direction. when you nod, he adds, “can you call ning ning? she's outside, smoking," before returning his attention to what he's doing.

your steps take you to the backyard of the house. ning ning is lost in thought as she puffs on her cigarette, or so you think you notice when you reach her side, exhaling the smoke. “mark was here,” she says, “a few minutes ago.” shit.

her gaze meets yours, her features hardening. "you won't deserve him in a million years," she declares.

you return her gaze, serene. “it's not my fault he doesn't like you,” you finally acknowledge. all this time, you'd thought she had feelings for donghyuck when her heart had always belonged to the boy with the firefly eyes.

you turn your back on her, walking away, going back into the house. "it's already served…" you interrupt chenle mid-sentence. “mark, did he come by car?” you ask, urgently.

“on foot,” chenle replies, “he lives a few blocks from here.” you hurry out, past the garage and the boy who sleeps in it. your mind races with a thousand thoughts per second, and your feet move on their own.

shouldn't be far. you pray that he isn't far away.

"mark!" your breath catches from the effort of running.

he finally turns around, recognition bathing his features.

you shorten the distance that separates you until there's only a prudent space between the two of you.

"forgive me," you beg. "i did not want…".

“i wanted to ignore it,” he confesses, getting tired of waiting for you to finish that sentence. “i wanted to believe that one day you would look at me the way you look at him,” he says under your gaze. you shake your head. "that night when you apologized for kissing me." his eyes narrow, visualizing the memory. “i told you i wasn't sorry,” he quotes. “looking back, i would have avoided all this,” he admits, “maybe if i had run i would have prevented donghyuck from stealing the love that was for me,” he declares.

“if only i had gotten to the play on time. i would have avoided everything."

“i didn't mean to break your heart,” you open up. a laugh leaves his lips. “everything started with him,” remembering the kiss you used to distract donghyuck at the party. "it's only fair that i'm the one who ends it."

mark. the star boy or donghyuck, the black hole.

a sigh leaves your lips as you open your mouth to respond.

finale.

the house is quiet as the members have recently left. you look around the garage, not avoiding feeling nostalgic.

donghyuck is not on the couch, neither are his clothes. a noise coming from the floor above gives away their location: his room.

the boy glances at you over his shoulder. "you're still wearing my shirt, you know that?" you look at the garment. "yeah."

"mark?" he asks, referencing your whereabouts a few minutes ago. he watches you nod slowly, still backward. "aren't you going to look at me?" you want to know, finally making him face you.

you stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, feeling the weight of your actions and their consequences.

donghyuck clears his throat. "i suppose you're here to tell me that you've chosen him, so i'll tell you one thing: don't worry." his words catch you off guard. "it's only fair that it's him. i… was a complete idiot," he opens up. "i wasn't even able to express what i felt for you."

"hyuck." your eyes meet. "then do it now."

a silence settles between them before donghyuck breaks it.

"i'm in love with you." five words. they are enough to bring down all your walls. "i will always be in love with you." his brows furrow in sorrow. "it doesn't matter if you don't love me back."

your feet move by inertia, like a magnet attracting you. donghyuck watches you in silence, his eyes closed when you touch his cheek. finally, he lets out the air he had been holding. “i love you back,” you declare before he kisses you.

his muscles relax under your touch, his tongue savoring your lips before meeting yours. the kiss escalates in intensity, your movements becoming more frantic, and when your feet fall back, donghyuck follows you.

your bodies impact with the soft surface of the bed, taking off each other's clothes with agile movements.

“keep it on,” he requests as your hands went to remove his shirt.

your bodies came together again in a collective gasp. donghyuck closed his eyes, contracting his face, overwhelmed by the pleasant sensation that also ran through your nerves. sinking into you, your mouth opened in a ghostly moan, feeling your head spin.

his hips moved rhythmically, sliding in and out. "look at me." his eyes did as you told. believing that you could drown in the chocolate of his eyes, and in the black hole of his pupils, expanding. his muscles tensing with each thrust. moans coming from his lips, swollen and wet. your body submerging in a sweet ecstasy. eyes filling with tears.

"hyuck...,"you moan, however, nothing coherent could come out of your lips. donghyuck slows down his movements, using one of his hands to comb your hair. “without…” you start, “without condom.” you were able to ensure that his cock twitched inside you. “i'll take the pill,” you mutter with effort.

a sob leave your lips when you felt him take out his member. your gaze travel to the point where your bodies connected, watching as he removed the condom and threw it. beads of precum glistening at the tip. your hands inadvertently go towards his length. you heard donghyuck catch his breath as your hand goes up and down, milking his dick.

"it feels good. you feel good.” donghyuck sank into the crook of your neck, in a tangle of kisses and gasps. your body bristling for him. an exhalation leaves his lips when he reintroduces his member, as the sensation becomes more intense, pounding hard. whimpering as his climax feels closer, feeling you raw, skin to skin. hips colliding, everything ending and beginning there where your bodies get together with each thrust, filling you. intertwining your legs on his lower back, forcing him to go further. deeper. feeling your walls tighten around his girth as he brings both of you to their breaking point, becoming more sloppy.

"i'm so close." a sharp pinprick expand in your core, a current invading your senses. your mind clouding listening to donghyuck's grunts and gasps in your ear.

an electrical wave numbs your senses, feeling your muscles go into spasms, small and short at first, shifting under his weight, arching your back and meeting his body when he pushes into you once more, your hands squeezing his shoulders, traveling to his arms, fingers burying on his smooth skin. hearing him let out a groan, which finally released the tension in your body, both of you letting out "i love you." in one last gasp.

the body of donghyuck collapses on top of you, tensing as waves of pleasure washes over him. slowing down his strokes, going deeper and lighter, milking his seed inside you, hot. the pleasurable sensation of it making you smile softly, sleepily. tired. full.

donghyuck greets you when you snuggled up next to him. silent. the confession still hanging in the air. “i like this character evolution,” he says in a whisper, “no more idiot. or my favorite, dipshit. hyuck” he repeats, "i like how it sounds in your mouth." you leave a long kiss on his mouth. the marlboro mingling with the strawberry flavor. you complain when he broke the kiss.

"did you know that i made you angry just so you would call me that?” he confesses. you deny, laughing.

donghyuck kisses your smile.

"now you know."

[taintedcigs]

eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. ��You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

[huiyi07]

GENSHIN MANGA SPOILERS! but honestly if you haven’t read it by now it’s your fault alone

So why did Kaeya initially try to hurt Collei?

The obvious answer- he was trying to defend Mondstadt, Collei was a very suspicious figure at the time, and he knew that being aggressive towards her would probably draw out her hidden powers and reveal herself as the culprit of the Black Fire incident.

But there’s more to it than that.

Kaeya canonically loves, LOVES kids. He adores them- there’s lots of times in the game where he talks about how precious childhood is and how he wants to protect the purity of childhood dreams for as long as possible before kids have to grow up and face the real world (kinda similar to Childe). In 3.8, it shows how he is literally willing to do anything to protect a child- Klee, when he literally throws aside his own sibling issues in order to shield Klee from being exposed to the same thing and scolds a couple of bickering brothers for upsetting her.

Additionally, there’s his whole thing with Mika and how he’s basically a big brother figure to the entirety of Mondstadt’s population under 17. The highly implied bond between Bennett, Razor, Fischl and him, even.

Anyway this whole aspect of his character obviously stems from his own childhood and how tainted it was by his hidden identity, so like he probably doesn’t want any other kids to have to go through such hardship especially while they’re still young.

So if he loves kids so much, and wants to protect them so badly, why did he not hesitate to become a full blown villain against Collei, literally wounding an innocent 12-year old girl?

Because he sees himself in her.

Collei hates herself (or at least she used to LOL). She hates the burden (her powers) that was forced upon her from a young age, and those powers inevitably label her as a bad person, one who can harness evil powers to kill And hurt and whatever. It makes her feel like she has no real control over herself, and that she has no self-identity- she doesn’t think of herself as a regular person, instead a monster. And she hates, hates, hates herself for it, but she shoves all of it down under a mask.

Sound familiar to a certain cavalry captain?

That’s why Kaeya didnt hesitate to Go after her. He knows her too well, knows that she’s hiding her true identity under a well-crafted face, that there’s something evil and dark in her- because that’s exactly who he was as a kid.

But then this panel happens.

Collei, evidently so tired of living such a torn life, gives up and offers her life to Kaeya just so that the torment can end, which stops Kaeya in his tracks, because that’s when she reminds him off himself just a little too much.

Kaeya, so caught up in her uncontrollable evil, forgets that she’s just a child, one who never should’ve been forced to deal with such a thing, and certainly not want to die because of it.

That’s exactly what happens internally to him, as well. Over the years, Kaeya internalized being a traitor so much, that often he convinces himself that he’s truly not a good person. Yes, he acknowledges that it’s really not his fault, but that still gets lost and it shows through when Kaeya shows us how willing he is to get himself harmed- because of his self hatred, he places so little value in his own wellbeing and his own life, because he thinks that all harm that comes to him is deserved and that it’s better off if he’s dead anyway so that he doesn’t have to deal with being torn apart every day.

No I’m not making this up, it’s in how he literally covers for Diluc all the time and risks himself in the process, and how Adelinde told us about that one time Kaeya literally took Diluc’s punishment for himself when they snuck into the wine cellars. There’s lots of times, even throughout in the game where Kaeya tries to convince us he’s not a good person- he quite literally says that, at some point.

Only when Collei shows that she’s in the exact same position does Kaeya realize what he’s doing and stops himself. Only then does he remember how painful and hard it really is, and he ends up helping to save Collei and removing her powers, because that’s one burden he can help take off, unlike his own.

Idk man for me the Kaeya vs Collei fight (I like to call it the chapter where collei gave us the hottest panel of Kaeya choking ever) told a story about Kaeya’s internalizations, too, and his own-self hatred and how deep it really goes. BRB CRYING

[magua-vida]

SLAY THE QUEEN THORN

I was inspired by Abby's sketch of a hypothetical Queen version of the Princess, so I tried my hand at it with a few vessels, including this one. I... ended up drawing something akin to a fashion design concept art rather than a practical design that won't be tiring to draw over and over after a handful of sprites later. I also had to use a bit more artistic license growing unnatural poppies on the dress and the thick twirly prickly noodles.

some explanations behind the process

For the "mended" Thorn, I pretty much just removed the foreground thorns and added the dirt.

rambling/fangirling/screenshots below:

The Thorn is one of my favorites. If I had to choose only five vessels to offer to Shifty and there's no replayable feature, she'll definitely be one of them. I'm one of those suckers who's into Hurt/Comfort stories. Almost like a masochist for those fics, you could say. If the climax to an Action-heavy story is the defeat of one party, then the catharsis of Hurt/Comfort is when the two characters... well, comfort each other- either due to hurt from each other or someone else. In The Thorn's case, she started off rather innocently, Damsel-like, but not quite. She still had caution. It was until she was literally stabbed in the back that she learned that it was a mistake. And when Long Quiet offered sincere regret and admission of fault, she stabbed him... but she didn't feel the relief she thought she'd get from it. I think many relate to having been betrayed and/or betraying someone they trusted, and the scratches are felt by many players.

The thorns curve inward, as if it's more painful to leave her than it is to approach her.

Poppies grow around along the bramble. Many mistook them for roses because they're red and there are brambles (tbh, I actually dunno if they're brambles or briars, I looked them up and I got confused, forgive me, plant enthusiasts ;.;) that grow around the patches of those poppies. Death and romance~

This brings back to Chapter 1 where Hero was kinda-sorta-maybe-definitely crushing on the Princess and wants to give her the benefit of the doubt, not only because of feelings, but for a reasonable cause of wanting to rescue someone who possibly may actually be a victim of circumstance.

Look, I have reasons why Thorn route is one of my favorites and it definitely doesn't have anything to do with both characters having massive trust issues and the capability to change themselves for better or worse and the emotional moments hitting me like a lovely diamond-dusted dagger. Both of them are rather cat-like with pointy ears too.

I appreciate that you're still given the options to leave or stab Thorn, as if the situation isn't pitiable enough. Even her tiara looks like a crown of thorns. It's as if she views the thorns as both a form of penance and a defence mechanism to protect herself from being hurt again, even though she's hurt by her own making this time.

I chose for the Long Quiet to save her and leave the cabin together.

This part stabbed me the most. Even when shown genuine help, she shrinks back.

This part burns a bit of the jadedness away. Trust is a scary thing, so is love. How can you be so sure that you won't be hurt by the one you love again? But just like what The Prisoner says, it's about trust- blind trust. Thorn looks more human than her previous self- less animalistic, softer. A part of The Damsel returns, even in the music.

I recall weighing on whether I prefer the version with the Voice of the Cheated or Voice of the Smitten. I vaguely remember wondering if there was an option to ask her if it's okay to kiss her. I guess the ideal would be is to have that choice, but I suppose the climactic moment calls for it and she doesn't mind it, at least. It's like the option to hug Astarion from BG3, but you're not sure whether he'd be comfy with it after being hurt so much. He gave approval for it too~

As much as Thorn is one of my favorites, I'm not attracted to her and any of the vessels. Instead, I ship her with the Long Quiet- the character himself. I don't really see myself AS the Long Quiet, more like choosing what actions on what he does and I separate myself from him a lot for many reasons. It's a bit like the Harry situation from Disco Elysium in terms of seemingly blank-slate protagonists.

Instead, I kinda put myself into her situation to feel how she felt in this route. The poppies not only felt symbolic of her nature as part of the Shifting Mound, but also specifically the end of the mutual treachery you've inflicted on each other, potentially beginning anew on a path of healing.

==============ramble-bramble over===================

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello I love your blog!

That being said woud really like to read your take on Harry's relationship with death and grief

And wich death do you think that impacted him the most

Thank you so much! I'm glad you love my blog!

I will warn this post mentions some suicidal ideation, mentions of self-harm, and a lot of Harry's grief methods and coping mechanisms, so be aware.

Now, Harry has a lot of grief in his life, and each death is one he reacts to differently, not only because of who dies but because his grief accumulates. So with every death, Harry is pushed closer and closer to his threshold. You kinda see this threshold in Deathly Hallows:

He could not draw breath. He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never have died. . . He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tonks. . . He yearned not to feel. . . He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside him. . .

[...]

The images of Fred, Lupin, and Tonks lying dead in the Great Hall forced their way back into his mind’s eye, and for a moment he could hardly breathe: Death was impatient. . . .

(DH)

Harry saw Fred die, and he was sure that was it. After Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Dobby, and even Snape, no one else should be able to die, and then he sees Lupin and Tonks are dead and his mind doesn't even know how he's supposed to handle all this grief. He actually can't process it at the moment. He feels so much pain and guilt because Harry blames himself for each and everyone that died. Even though they were adults who chose to fight on their own, he didn't force them, but he feels responsible for their deaths.

Even for his parents' deaths as I mention later. This is really a theme with Harry's grief — he always blames himself. If he just called Sirius in the mirror, if he just knew Occlumancy, if he just drunk the potion instead of Dumbledore. At points, Harry actually wishes he was dead instead of having to carry all his grief and pain:

And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.

(DH) - is it just me who feels like crying every time I read this quote?

Obviously, his parents' deaths affected how his life went more than any other death, but Harry never knew them. He never really grieved them growing up. He grieved the childhood he could've had. That above scene in Godric's Hallow is the first time Harry truly grieves for James and Lily themselves, not just as a family he could've had.

Cedric's death was the first Harry had to watch, and it was mixed in with a lot of other trauma. So, Harry doesn't really grieve Cedric, not really. He is sad he had to die, but Harry mostly grieves himself. He doesn't want to think about the graveyard and the nightmares. He comes off as somewhat numb to Cedric's death because they weren't all that close and Harry is suffering and has no idea how to process any of it, so he pushes all of it aside because there are other things more important.

Sirius, I think, is the death that hit him hardest. I mentioned how Harry's behavior changes after Sirius dies. Sirius was one of Harry's only support lines, and then he was gone. Harry's reaction to his death is the worst too.

He tries and somewhat succeeds in casting a crucio on Bellatrix. He has his outburst in Dumbledore's office that makes me want to throttle Dumbledore and hug Harry whenever I read it:

“Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —” “THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!” Harry roared, and he seized one of the delicate silver instruments from the spindle-legged table beside him and flung it across the room. It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall.

[...]

“I DON’T CARE!” Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. “I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANYMORE —”

(OotP)

After that, we see this grief in Harry's behavior. He becomes more reckless, more mouthy. In the first books, Harry does a lot to try and avoid unnecessary danger. From the end of book 5, Harry just doesn't care about himself as much.

Sirius is a character Harry grieves. He mentions Sirius constantly in the early chapters of book 6 and I think we see him grieving Sirius all throughout the final few books as more deaths just mount on top of his guilty consciousness as Harry keeps blaming himself:

And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the shelter of a parent’s arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no waking from his nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been before.

(HBP)

Dumbledore is a weird one. Harry grieves Dumbledore for both what he was and what he wasn't rather than the man himself. Harry grieves not actually knowing Dumbledore and Dumbledore's perceived betrayal throughout the majority of book 7:

But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose?

(DH)

He mourns losing the trust he had in Dumbledore, not just the man himself. He mourns no knowing if Dumbledore really cared for him. He mourns not actually knowing Dumbledore and he mourns the loss of the one man Harry trusted would save him — his last and greatest protector.

Unlike Sirius, Dumbledore is a person Harry has a more complicated relationship with, so his grief for him is similarly more complicated. Where he thinks of Dumbledore the idea and Dumbledore the man as very different things and he isn't sure which one of them was more honest. And he mourns not knowing.

All of this is mixed up with his helplessness in book 7 and wishing Dumbledore had told him more to prepare him. All these frustrations affect the way he grieves. And, as we see, book 7 is Harry at his most reckless — because when Harry's in emotional pain, he throws himself into danger.

Harry's grief at Dobby's death is one that really stuck with me when reading DH, specifically this scene:

“I want to do it properly,” were the first words of which Harry was fully conscious of speaking. “Not by magic. Have you got a spade?” And shortly afterward he had set to work, alone, digging the grave in the place that Bill had shown him at the end of the garden, between bushes. He dug with a kind of fury, relishing the manual work, glorying in the non-magic of it, for every drop of his sweat and every blister felt like a gift to the elf who had saved their lives. His scar burned, but he was master of the pain, he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out. . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love.

(DH)

Harry is right in saying grief drove out Voldemort more than love. Harry's magic is very intuned with his emotions and pushes Voldemort out on instinct. I believe this is a type of Occlumancy.

See, Occlumancy requires a clear and focused mind, Harry, not knowing how to process grief, turns to manual labor that causes him pain. There is the pain from his blisters, pain from his muscles, pain from his scar — and he relishes in that pain because it makes him feel numb. It clears his head and allows him to actually practice Occlumancy.

This is a kind of self-harm. Not a super obvious act of self-harm, but it is a kind of self-harm. Working himself to the point of pain and exhaustion so he won't feel it all anymore. Just like he shouted at Dumbledore at the end of book 5. We actually see Harry in this almost numb state in book 7 quite a bit.

His recklessness is a form of self-harm too, in a way.

As he followed Bill back to the others a wry thought came to him, born no doubt of the wine he had drunk. He seemed set on course to become just as reckless a godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius Black had been to him.

(DH)

As I mentioned a grieving Harry is much more dangerous to himself than a happy Harry. He's angrier, more reckless, and more prone to outbursts. He relishes in his own pain and danger in a way he hasn't before. Add that to his PTSD from everything else, and... god, I feel so bad for my boy...

Then we have all the deaths in the Battle of Hogwarts, of which Fred affected him most I think. But by that point, Harry is half numb.

The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Harry’s mind was in free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all his senses must be lying—

(DH)

They're in the middle of the battle and immediately after this paragraph, Harry shouts at everyone to get down and away as more curses start flying and the Acrumentulas come in. He pushes everyone to act and to move because Harry has become so accustomed to grief and pain that by this point it's second nature to him to be in a state of pain:

Why was it so easy? Because his scar had been burning for hours, yearning to show him Voldemort’s thoughts? He closed his eyes on her command, and at once, the screams and bangs and all the discordant sounds of the battle were drowned until they became distant, as though he stood far, far away from them. . . .

(DH)

I mentioned in the past that all mind arts require a focused and clear mind. This state of numbness from grief Harry pushes himself into is what allows him such good control over his connection with Voldemort and when and what he sees from it.

Harry only lets himself start to grieve Fred when he sees his body again in the hall. And he doesn't want to grieve or feel, so he runs to Dumbledore's office to view Snape's memories. At that point, towards his own death, Harry's in the mindset where he's willing to do anything to not feel the pain and grief and guilt anymore, so much so that when Dumbledore asks him to die, Harry does:

And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.” Harry seemed to be watching the two men from one end of a long tunnel, they were so far away from him, their voices echoing strangely in his ears.

[...]

His job was to walk calmly into Death’s welcoming arms. Along the way, he was to dispose of Voldemort’s remaining links to life, so that when at last he flung himself across Voldemort’s path, and did not raise a wand to defend himself, the end would be clean, and the job that ought to have been done in Godric’s Hollow would be finished: Neither would live, neither could survive.

[...]

Terror washed over him as he lay on the floor, with that funeral drum pounding inside him. Would it hurt to die? All those times he had thought that it was about to happen and escaped, he had never really thought of the thing itself: His will to live had always been so much stronger than his fear of death. Yet it did not occur to him now to try to escape, to outrun Voldemort. It was over, he knew it, and all that was left was the thing itself: dying.

[...]

Dumbledore’s betrayal was almost nothing. Of course there had been a bigger plan; Harry had simply been too foolish to see it, he realized that now. He had never questioned that his own assumption: that Dumbledore wanted him alive. Now h saw that his life span had always been determined by how long it took to eliminate all the Horcruxes. Dumbledore had passed the job of destroying them to him, and obediently he had continued to chip away at the bonds tying not only Voldemort, but himself, to life! How neat, how elegant, not to waste any more lives, but to give the dangerous task to the boy who had already been marked for slaughter, and whose death would not me a calamity, but another blow against Voldemort.

(DH)

Not for a moment does Harry consider not dying. He mentions he wants to shout out, and wants someone to care enough to stop him:

He wanted to shout out to the night, he wanted Ginny to know that he was there, he wanted her to know where he was going. He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home. . . .

(DH)

But he doesn't shout out, because the only home he ever had was for a year at Godric's Hallow, and that home was six feet under, where Harry knows he should be.

Just, all of Harry's thoughts as he walks towards his death, to me feel like a reaction to grief. He heard Dumbledore's plan when he reached his threshold of pain and grief. It's why he doesn't consider another option if there's another way. He doesn't want there to be another way. He wants to live, but he also wants it to be over.

And in death, Harry considers staying:

Harry nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss.

(DH)

Staying where it's warm and peaceful and there's no pain. But he chooses to return, he chooses to live, and I think that is such an important moment for his character and his journey with grief. It's the moment he accepts life is pain and decides he wants to live anyway.