#warnings: toxic relationships

[kflixnet]

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REVELATIONS

⸻ when they find out you celebrate holidays/birthdays alone

⟡ ┆ featuring. ot7 x fem!reader (separately)

⟡ ┆ content warnings. she's a bit angsty :( mentions of family issues, abandonment and generally wack relationship to family, also shitty friends

⟡ ┆ note. first time doing ot7 version of my fake texts and i decided the request i got a bit ago would be the perfect opportunity for it HEHE so thank you to the anon who reqeusted these, i hope you like them :) also happy new year everyone !! and biggest thanks to @jayparked for helping me figure these out

© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.

[go-fornicate-yourself]

Every day I am in the trenches fighting for my life defending this poor man. He was going through so much and people online demonize him and say he's as bad as his abuser

(I've got a lot of thoughts about this so I'll make sure to separate things to make it easier to look at lol)

Curly is a victim of abuse. Jimmy is his abuser. This is something that I feel a lot of people tend to brush over or don't acknowledge it often.

And I'm not just talking about post-crash. Jimmy's abuse of Curly is there pre-crash too. The party scene where the crew learns about the company going under is a huge example of this. Jimmy verbally abuses him, he gaslights him, he blames him for their (his) misfortune. Jimmy accuses Curly of thinking he's better than everyone (better than him), that he doesn't care about them (about him). That he's going leave them (leave him). Which is not true. Curly tries to explain himself but Jimmy shuts him down and he just takes it.

The fact that he just allows this to happen makes it seem like he's used to this... That this kind of behavior is a recurring thing with Jimmy. And the fact that nobody else tries to defend him or stands up to Jimmy just normalizes it for him. When Anya tells Curly what Jimmy did it catches him off guard. Bc he genuinely didn't think that his friend was capable of that. It wasn't something that was obvious to him. There were absolutely many red flags in the past but they were subtle enough for him to not see them bc he cares for Jimmy, he trusts him. Jimmy's the only one he feels he can open up to, who he can let his guard down with. Jimmy's his home. That's how close they are.

Because of this deep love for his friend and the subtlety of Jimmy's cruelty, he doesn't see the constant verbal and emotional abuse as what it is: abuse. Which is why he finds Jimmy's abuse towards Anya so shocking and jarring.

He isn't a man covering for his rapist friend bc of the 'bro code'. It does look like that from a certain angle and it's understandable why people see it that way but that's not what his character is really about as much as it makes sense otherwise.

He's essentially a battered housewife who's still in love with her husband but is realizing for the first time that the man she loves is a monster. That the man she loves and devoted her life to has been hurting her this whole time and she didn't even realize it. That the man she loves and spent so much of her life caring for has gone and hurt someone else. That he's most likely hurt others before and she's been utterly unaware of it the entire time she defended him and made excuses for him when he wasn't the best or the fairest or the most responsible or when he screwed up yet again solely bc of how much she loved and cared for him.

And Curly barely had any time to process ANY of that before Jimmy decided to try and kill them all to avoid the consequences of his actions. It was ultimately a selfish act even if he thought he wasn't just doing it for himself. Jimmy is selfish and needs to be in control or he loses it. He cares for Curly. He loves him. Curly's done so much for him. Curly's the only one who understands him, who doesn't hate him. Curly's his home. He resents how 'successful' he is but that's only bc he thinks so highly of him. He constantly puts himself down and put Curly on a pedestal and worships him while simultaneously mistreating him.

He treats his best friend like shit, he's awful to him. But he's not aware that this is the case or maybe he's in denial about it. He can't or just refuses to see how he's doing all of what he does for himself in the end. He justifies his attempt to kill them all (to himself and to Curly) by claiming he's doing this for them both. That if they were to get back to earth it would all be Curly's fault, that it'll ruin his life and career... despite the fact he had basically nothing to do with Anya's abuse. Jimmy's shifting the blame on him while acting like he cares for him. Well, he does genuinely care for him but clearly not nearly enough to not mistreat him or use him as a scapegoat for his own guilt.

Jimmy is the rapist, Jimmy is the one who does all of these horrible things. And yet it's highly likely that Curly would just blame all of it on himself bc that's exactly what Jimmy did to him. He's in so deep he can't see the facts of the situation.

It takes abuse victims so long to come to terms with their abuse. It takes time and reflection to see things with an unbiased and healthy perspective. Abuse (especially years of it) isn't just something you can just escape. It consumes you and can twist your reality. Curly had about a week or less to process all of it and then take action in a way that protected his crew and abided by Pony Express' guidelines. Dealing with something this serious in a setting that makes resolving it extremely difficult in a practical sense is already hard.

There were no locks on any of the doors except for medical and the cockpit. They couldn't just kill him. There was nowhere they could detain Jimmy that wouldn't involve corporate potentially penalizing the entire group. They could have used the cryopods but then there'd only be three available for any actual emergency and there were already five crew members and four pods in total. Also, I doubt corporate would be 'okay' with them using the cryopods for anything other than their intended purpose. Hell, even if they were able to make it back to earth without any incidents there's a good chance that corporate would consider the situation 'poor team synergy' and collectively punish the entire crew for Jimmy's actions.

So on top of having to deal with an already difficult situation, Curly has to grapple with the realization that Jimmy a: abused Anya, b: has been abusing him as well (for a very long time too), and c: has probably abused others before Anya and he had no idea about it. He needed to act but he didn't and it doomed all of them.

But it's so unrealistic (maybe even cruel) to put that much pressure on someone, force them through an utterly earth-shattering realization, and then expect them to do the correct/right/responsible thing in that moment. It's a little ironic how people vilify him for that when other characters do the same thing that nobody blames for it.

Anya is the ship's nurse. Curly is the ship's captain. They both have duties and responsibilities on board the Tulpar. She has to keep the crew healthy and safe and is the only one with enough medical knowledge to do so. He has to make sure that everything goes well and goes according to procedure. He's responsible for the crew, the cargo, and even the ship itself. Both positions are integral and require a lot of responsibility to do properly

They're both put through distressing and traumatic situations where due to them being human people with emotions and fears that make them essentially avoid their responsibility/doing what's required of them.

Curly has a freeze response and doesn't act when he should have when it was crucial to have done so. Anya has a fawn response and essentially puts her patient in danger and harm's way. She knew full well what Jimmy was capable of. She experienced it herself and she witnessed it happening to Curly as well. And yet she allows Jimmy to be alone with Curly while being fully aware of how dangerous he is. Which she shouldn't have, that wasn't the 'right' thing to do. Keeping him safe was her responsibility.

But Anya's human. She's going through a lot at the moment. She's terrified of Jimmy and she's trying to appease him so he doesn't hurt her again. It's a natural very understandable thing to do even if it's not the 'right' or 'responsible' thing. They failed each other when they needed each other most and I think that's the most tragic part of it. If anything, all of them failed each other in some way, shape, or form.

So it's incredibly frustrating to see people give Anya so much sympathy and grace for doing something so human yet still 'wrong' but then turn around and give Curly none of that for doing essentially the same thing she does.

I don't know for sure if it's actually because Curly is a man or if it's only part of it or maybe some people just lack that sense of awareness but it's depressing and frustrating as fuck as a male victim of sexual violence and abuse to see this kind of behavior and this much victim blaming towards a character who is undeniably a victim of abuse like I am.

[thegnomelord]

You ever hear the gross stories about people putting peanut butter on their junk and having a dog lick it off? This sounds bad but stay with me here, imagine it's marakov doing this with hound. Like it's a humiliation thing to break hound down or something and drive it into his head that he's no better than an actual dog. Marakov starving hound for awhile so he's famished and then pulling the peanut butter out. If hound wants to eat then the only food he can have will be the peanut butter he'll have to lick off marakovs cock.

Oh fuck that is disgusting and SOOO something Makarov would do. So here's a lil ficlet cause you got my brain going Brrrr

CW:NSFW, MDNI, Makarov x male reader, blowjob, peanutbutter food sex, toxic relationship, dom/sub dub-con, rough and quick, I дворняга - mongrel, mutt есть - eat, нет - no.

Rough fingers grip your jaw until it hurts, Makarov's thumb pressing down on your tongue to keep it flush with the bottom of your mouth. Drool and a bit of blood run down your chin, a small puddle already forming between your folded knees. The fingers on of his other hand wiggle your canine, uncaring of how your jaw trembles in an attempt not to bite him.

"Poor дворняга," Makarov chuckles, "Not liking your new teeth?"

Your 'new' teeth hurt like hell and that's saying something, gums around them still raw and irritated, knives stabbing at your entire jaw and down your throat whenever he wiggles the tooth even slightly. But you can't show that, don't bite the hand that feeds. So you swallow the sound of pain bubbling in your chest and shake your head as much as he allows you to do so.

You can see his smirk past the tears blurring your vision. "Good dog." He chuckles, pulling his fingers from your mouth to pat your head. "You must be hungry."

You are. Starving. You can't remember the last time you've been fed, probably before Makarov had your canines ripped from your mouth and replaced with metal, but the constant pain buzzing in your body makes it hard to keep track as the days blur together. You wordlessly nod your head, knowing better than to speak when he hasn't given you permission yet (you doubt you even could with how much your jaw hurts.)

Makarov leans back on your bunk, letting go of your jaw to fiddle with the jar of peanut butter. Unscrewing the lid he dips his pointer finder in and scoops up a big dollop of it. He holds it out for you, resting the back of his finger on your tongue. "Есть." He orders, tone leaving no room for arguing and you're quick to close your lips around his finger, tongue moving to lick it clean and trying to avoid nudging your teeth.

You've always hated the stuff since Price got you to try some when you were in America, the taste and texture making your skin crawl, but right now it may as well be ichor of the gods. Your stomach rumbles at finally being able to devour something, even if it's just a small scoop of peanut butter.

You open your mouth when you're done, spit clinging to Makarov's finger, and try your best to make a small whine. "Good, finally learning." He hums and sets the jaw down, unbuckling his belt.

Your heart stutters and drops to your stomach as you watch Makarov fish his half hard cock from his boxers, only needing a few strokes to get him fully erect. Makarov laughs at the face you make when he scoops up a good amount of the peanut butter and uses it like lube on his cock.

"Oh, did you think you would just get to eat?" He snorts, holding the base of his cock, "Нет, нет, нет you dumb mutt." He spreads his legs wider, patting his thigh. "You'll have to work for it, now есть."

You hesitate, some meager part of your pride absolutely unwilling, your stomach telling you to forget about that. Makarov waits, judgmental eyes locked on you, easily able to see the turmoil swirling in your eyes. He knows how to be patient, while he usually wouldn't tolerate disobedience, he knows he can't set up a hunting dog for failure and expect success so soon into your training.

His efforts bear fruit and you slowly shuffle forward on your knees. Even starved as you are, the wide span of your shoulders still forces his legs to spread wider. You hesitate some more, looking past his cock up at him, wondering if he really wants you to do this; is this a reward or just another way to tear you down?

"Do not make me repeat myself." He says, voice even and cool, but you're still perceptive enough to notice the sharp edge of danger in his tone, like a knife pressed into your throat.

Tentatively you lean in, fists clenching against your thighs as your tongue lolls out to hesitantly lick at his shaft. He doesn't rush you, doesn't degrade you, but his hand does settle on the back of your skull. You freeze, but he only hums, "Good dog." His hips twitch until his shaft bumps against your nose.

The hand on your head keeps you from pulling away, and your hunger soon wins out so you give a few experimental kitten licks. You start at the bottom, still uneasy about this, your tongue licking across his knuckles. Makarov purrs something in Russian you're not familiar with, his tone not sweet enough to make you think it's an insult, so you slowly continue up his shaft.

His precum mixes with the peanut butter, giving it a saltier tang that makes disgust curl in your stomach, humiliation making your face burn. Even your mind mocks you; Price's voice echoes somewhere in your ears "This is why we left you, you were just waiting for a chance to be a terrorist's whore." but that voice slowly gets quieter as Makarov's hand pets your head, making thinking about anything but the creamy peanut butter on your tongue difficult.

"Good dog, doing so well for me." Makarov hums, a pleased sound escaping his chest. The pleasure your mouth brings is miniscule compared to the sight of you - on your knees, eyes slowly closing as your malleable mind settles into static, drool smeared lips wrapping around his head to suck all the food your tongue missed - oh it's something else. He's seen many powerful men brought down to their knees, but nothing has ever made him harder than you right now.

You pop off his cockhead, chest frantically moving to draw breath, unfocused eyes staring at his drooling head before you look up. "Now wasn't that a good treat?" He asks, receiving your mumble in return, using your spaced out mind to smear more peanut butter on his head. "But you missed a spot. Go on, есть."

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Izzy's oneshot!

show you the stars | tbz kim sunwoo

“Why's my girl misbehaving today, hm? Shouldn’t you be nice to the birthday boy?”

pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader

trope/au » friends to lovers, (or should i say...) 'friends' to lovers, situationship (?), non-idol au!

genre »​ very suggestive!! (as compared to my other one), it's kinda fluffy uwu (everyone act surprised), a dash of angst, dom!sunwoo at times, sub!sunwoo at other times, kim sunwoo being whipped and sweet for you, but he's also flustered, he's flirting with you, reader is a bit of a tease and is confident, you're also flustered at times, sunwoo loves you and you love him (again, act surprised), finding love and comfort in each other after past relationships, kim sunwoo who just wants to be close to you

word count, estimated reading time » 4987, 18 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » very suggestive!!, dom! and sub!sunwoo, mentions of unhealthy past relationships, a ton of kissing, making out, marking (teeth and kiss marks; reader receiving), pet names (baby boy, baby girl), reader licks cream off sunwoo, sunwoo licking cream off reader's neck and collarbones, sunwoo is physically bigger and taller, reader has medium to long hair, HIGHLY suggestive at the end, rapid proofread once

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

happy birthday to (one of) the loml 🥰

uhm...

yeah...

so!...yeah...

i'm just gonna go...

The delightful aroma of your hard work fills the volume of Sunwoo’s apartment easily. You've been chopping, stirring and sizzling ingredients for the last two hours, excited for the first birthday that you'll spend together with him.

To elaborate on your relationship with Sunwoo, you're ‘friends’. The explanation would give most people deadpanned looks, accompanied by the raised eyebrows that would follow. Otherwise, others would only facepalm at the stupidity that you both seem to obviously share. Anyone could tell that with the way that you both would drop any conversation that you're in or literally drop the paper cup in your hand whenever the other comes into even slightly just their peripheral vision, that you're more than the label that you both have decided to nonverbally settle for now. 

Like your best friend from diapers would say, there's no way those kisses on the forehead, trailing down side to side across your eyelids, back medially down the slope of your nose, along the underside of your jawline, were things that ‘friends do’. Not with the way that Sunwoo would subtly slide his palm down from the comfort of your back to cup one of your bottom cheeks, smirking when he feels the heat radiating from your cheeks. 

And for you? You can't help but feel the disappointment in your chest whenever he passes the quiet but rapid breathing of your lips whenever he bypasses them to work on that sensitive spot on your neck, sometimes whispering compliments to the shell of your eyes with that husky, low voice of his—but well, it's not like that anymore.

Friends don’t look at each other’s orbs and are so immersed that they say “I miss you” in the most dewy, honey-dripping voice. In public where they're most disciplined, they don't hold each other’s hands while walking, a thumb smoothing over the other when they’re just walking along the empty night street or the aisle of the grocery store.

Friends don't give each other their spare apartment keys or sweep them off their feet as soon as the front door opens, distracting their worries and other thoughts by locking lips with each other. You would never let any of your other friends carry you in their arms and pull the same blanket that they will use in the night over your body. In the same way, you would never snuggle to the warmth of the person next to you, kissing them a sweet “good night” and “thank you”.

But knowing the manipulation and tears from your past relationship, none of you could bear to address the looming label that others already deem you as. Sunwoo is too scared to ask too, going through the same thing from his past relationship. Through the healing of the break-up that you both had in your respective lives, came the comfort that the other’s lips would give, and he would chase that feeling from you over and over again.

You're okay with how things are now. You respect him and you don’t want to push him or the title that you personally want to have with him. For now, you decided that actions will speak louder than words and when the right time comes, you both will address it without the influence of the outside world.

Today is just one of those days that you use your spare key to use Sunwoo’s kitchen to cook up a little feast. The dining table is decorated with a vase of roses in the middle as you hop between the stove and make sure everything looks presentable. The light dimming system of his house is perfect for the shooting star projector that you aim towards a blank wall. You're satisfied with all the preparation for the main meals, making sure that the moment he walks in through the door, you can cook and plate it up swiftly while it’s still freshly pipping hot.

“Oh gosh,” you're proud of your efforts with the vanilla whipped cream for his cake. “I'm a genius.” You sang variations of the phrase to yourself.

Curse your horrible time management skills because the clock in front of you only reminds you that you have little time until the main key is used on the front door. The sponge cake is assembled quickly, with a thin layer of crumb coating and cooling before you make the smooth layer of cream at the end topped with some chocolate and strawberries.

You stepped back to admire your work, making sure the fruit was on the perfect slope and that the chocolate bar next to it complemented the negative space around the centrepiece. Your hand under the cake was about to slip when you heard the keys rattling from outside and you swore the fridge door hated you by how you had a hard time opening it.

On the other hand, Sunwoo could smell your home-cooked meal a few doors down the hallway. His stomach only grumbled in anticipation but his heart was jumping at the thought of you greeting him behind the door. The smile on his face grew, his overgrown bangs tickling his eyelids with his rushed footsteps towards the door.

The sweet scent of your perfume is what he manages to pick up first, and he remembers how his time was well spent when he was shopping for the bottle for you. 

“I'm home.” Something that he has always loved to say, hating the lack of light in his house after a long day at work. His fingers were about to switch the light on but your shout stops him halfway.

Your body crashed against his before he could comprehend. Sunwoo groans a little at how his back hit the door behind him but his palms settled on your hips lovingly while your arms were wrapped around his middle, face hidden to his chest, nose inhaling your favourite cologne. 

Chuckling at your small apology, his fingers raised to tug at the hair tie around your ponytail. He tugs down on the elastic, now savouring the scent of your perfume and shampoo. It left you goosebumps with the way Sunwoo massaged your scalp, his other hand untucking his tight shirt that he gave you, from your skirt so that the pad of his thumb could feel your skin better.

“Happy birthday, baby boy,” exhaling at the gentle swipes of his thumb on your waist. 

“Thank you, baby girl,” trailing kisses from the top of your head to the side of your head. You tried to escape from the ticklish feeling but his arm wrapped around you, keeping your lower bodies flush against each other, “Where do you think you're going?”

You giggle at his lips down the side of your face, his breaths reaching the crook of your neck as he takes comfort there. It's only now that you realise the fabric of his material, is no longer the white collared polyester. Your heated cheeks brushed against the metal around his neck and Sunwoo could feel the start of your complaints from your deep inhale.

So he closes the gap and kisses you to quiet you down.

He ignores the little muted surprised sound from you, pulling away only slightly to smirk at you before diving in deeper. His palm grips on the curve of your waist, keeping you in control. He whispers for you to pull him closer by the neck and he knows the roll of your eyes isn't an indication of annoyance. Your lips danced between his, a hand over his nape to pull him down, your other palm cupping his cheek as you tried to control his hunger for you.

“Sunwoo,” Slightly out of breath, “What are you wearing?”

As if he didn't see the deadpanned look on your face when he decides to give your poor lungs a break, he leisurely answers, “This is the suit and tie of someone who decided to leave the desk early,” fingers hooking around the metal chain around his neck whilst simultaneously peering down at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, “so that he could look hot for his birthday and his girl.”

You couldn't deny that. Shamelessly, you let your eyes roam over the somewhat tight shirt that he has. His pectoral muscles are defined with the grey stretchy fabric and the silver accessory around him only made him all the more irresistible. Kim Sunwoo knows how to make you swoon, styling his hair lazily with his strands covering his field of view. 

Sunwoo makes it known that your stare is invited, loving the attention that his special day gets him. You're looking at him so delicately that his smug confidence falters into a softer look. His lips form a straight line but the moment your eyes meet his, there's a deep resonating chuckle from his chest, a happiness that spreads to you.

“Let's go eat?” With an affirmative hum and a quick peck, Sunwoo lets your body go and links with your palm, letting you guide him deeper into his house.

As soon as his eyes take a glance at your work, he's momentarily still. From the tablecloth draped over his table to the stars on his wall when he realises, you remember his wish to make a wish to the star. He's always found the idea to be a bit innocent, unlike his relationship with you but the fact that you kept it in mind, and how his grip on your hand only tightens, tells everyone that Kim Sunwoo is ready for more.

He daydreams of a day when he would kiss you awake, and how you're the last voice he would hear before falling asleep. How you'll greet him when he opens the door and kisses all over his face and more. How he’ll be able to spend his money spoiling you instead of only spending it on himself. How you’ll be his number one and how you’ll be his. These thoughts have roamed his head for a very long time and he used to keep it in, hide it for the sake of not ruining whatever you two have.

But with the way that you would kiss his nape as a greeting whenever he would be sitting down in front of you, or the way you would sit down on his lap and crane his neck up to meet his lips with yours. How the heated sessions would only flare up more when he sneaks his fingers around the band of your bra, and the whole intimacy that you show each other—Kim Sunwoo is undoubtedly in love with you. 

Besides the intimacy, it’s the things you do for him. Namely, it’s the view of his house right now and the welcoming scent of his favourite food that you prepared for him. It’s even more precious to Sunwoo as he knows that you do this even when it isn’t a special day. You have done this whenever he would hint how much he misses you and you would show up to mend his tired heart the next minute. It’s not just the kisses and skin on skin. If you stopped guiding him to his designated chair and looked back at him right now, you would see that lovesick look on his face.

Sunwoo offers to clean up the space whilst you’re cooking but you quickly refuse, saying that he should take a rest, even if it’s for a while. After a few tries, Sunwoo finally listens to you, sitting down where you want him to. He takes this time to admire your decorations, snapping electronic memories of his surroundings and taking extra shots of the wall that seem so much more inviting with the video of falling lights. 

His eyes are stuck there, entranced by the view. You see from across the room how he readjusts his position and closes his eyes. Your heart swells with that, keeping the view of his head down slightly as he mouths inaudible words to the stars you projected. When he opened his eyes, you diverted back to dinner, happiness evident in your face at he appreciated your work.

While you focused on the pan, Sunwoo found a couple of metres gap between you cooking and him sitting too far away, so he took a seat from the other side of the kitchen island, the significant piece that separated you two. Soon enough, you pout at the return of the multiple camera sounds, this time louder and clearer. You tried to lean over the island to snatch his phone away and Sunwoo mirrored the playful smile on your face.

“Behave,” he knew it worked like a charm when he saw you flustered. Your outreached wrist from your attempt only gets caught up with him and Sunwoo draws you in closer while he leans in to meet you in the middle. The dim lights overhead set the mood more as they angle the shadows and highlight all the kissable parts of your face and Sunwoo swears he could kiss you all night. You watch the gulp down his throat and his stern eyes drifting to the knobs of the stovetop to turn off the fire. Kim Sunwoo is no longer playful like a minute ago.

You’ll admit that he sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach but it didn’t stop the tugging of the corner of your lips and Sunwoo’s eyes widening when you decided to turn off the fire but never returned to him. Sunwoo lets out an amused scoff at the way you cross your arms over your chest, leaning your back on the free space next to the stove. 

His eyes narrow to you, a tongue poking his inner cheek at your sudden surge of confidence, “Now,” You watch him turning his body sideways, walking along the opposite side of the island towards you. He stays silent for a bit longer, letting you know that a question is coming; and that he wants answers to it. Copying your gesture, Sunwoo leans before you not even a metre and nothing separating you anymore. “Why's my girl misbehaving today, hm? Shouldn’t you be nice to the birthday boy?”

“You really want me to be ‘nice’?” You shake your head, finding the statement amusing, “You love it when I play with you like this. What's life without a bit of misbehaviour?”

The boy couldn’t even get a word out when you suddenly took a big step towards him. Your palms rest on the edge of the table, caging his figure. You purposely lean into his chest, eyelashes subtly fluttering underneath the still orange lamp from above. There was no longer a chance that Sunwoo could think straight anymore. Not with the way that just like before, you cradled the underside of his jawline. 

However, your hold on him this time is different. It didn’t feel like you were going to pull him and have your kiss marks all over his skin like the way he would never refuse to when you asked. The confused lines between his eyebrows only deepen more when you just keep staring at him with a dazed look in his confused orbs but it’s then that he sees a glimmer of hope for the relationship that you both could share.

It may have been the light or it may have been the reflection of his own eyes or—and this is what he hopes—it’s the glimmer and stars in your eyes that you hold as you look at him at the moment. Sunwoo tries his best to understand your unspoken feelings but his train of thought is cut short when he registers the dollop of coolness on the left side of his jawline.

His breath hitches in his throat when your right hand hooks around his necklace and you latch your lips around the cream on his face. Your tongue swipes the food off his skin, alternating between kitten licks and long swipes. Your left-hand swipes the wall of the metal bowl behind him, trailing down a path that you would soon wipe clean. Sunwoo shudders, his light moan hitting your ear and his little whiny begs encourage you to keep going.

Your breath hitting his skin would normally rile him to put you in your place but all he could do with his lower back digging against the edge of the table is to clench his hands onto your mid-outer thighs to stabilise himself. 

“God…” Sunwoo calls out when he opens his eyes to meet your daring ones. “You're so beautiful.”

“Enjoying this?” And he responds with a harsher grip, hands raising and starting to lift your skirt to your upper thighs. 

The coolness of the cream, followed by your light alternations of sucking and kissing on his skin, and the way the air cools the area after is perfect and Sunwoo’s head tilts back in satisfaction. 

Too bad you wouldn't let him because you finished trailing his jawline, stealing a kiss straight to his subtle, hungry lips. The taste of vanilla and the pressure of your lips makes his head light and the room seems like it's spinning. But now, it's his turn and you know it with the way he pushes you away with all the strength he has left in him. He bends down to wrap his arm around your mid-thigh that has crescents of his nail on your skin and he sits you on the countertop and slots himself between your knees. 

Sunwoo’s eyes are darker than the night outside but it doesn't fear you at all. You're now the one caged between him but unlike Sunwoo, you knew you didn't have any strength to push him away—nor did you want to. You bite your lower lips when he starts tugging your left sleeve down your shoulder to have more area to work with. 

“My turn, baby girl,” metal against marble is heard next to you and Sunwoo uses his pointer and middle fingers to scoop the sweet white. 

A smirk comes up his face when you grow visibly weaker for him, your posture faltering underneath his dominating presence. Sunwoo held your chin between his thumb and ring finger and applied a thin layer between your open mouth. 

“Take a deep breath for me.” And you did so almost immediately.

You soon found out that the deep breath is needed as Sunwoo not only takes your breath away by covering your mouth with his own but that he multitasks to smear the food all over your neck and collarbone area. Unlike you who preferred things to be more uniform and clean, Sunwoo loves how you squirm and whimper under him with multiple senses. His fingers traced the horizontal line of your collarbones first before he came up and around the side and front of your neck less uniformly; he’s getting impatient now. You soon found out that the skin he exposed earlier wasn’t so that he could have a reason to place his tongue there, he’s just hungry for more of you, wanting to feel every part of you, just like how his tongue pushes against yours.

You find his little huffs of annoyance endearing as he mumbles about how the lack of oxygen has him pulling away from him showing his love. In reality, it was just a few seconds, but every second without you felt like a lifetime to him. He cleans the last bit of cream on his pants and he finally detaches his lips from you. 

Sunwoo straightens his posture, looming dominance over your wrecked mind and half-lidded eyes. A hanging weak string of saliva still connects you both in the air for a minute and his right hand wraps around your left forearm in place. You didn’t mind his sticky fingers that started to brush the strands of your hair from the top of your nape. It’s a lovely feeling from the adrenaline he gave you but he raises your heartbeat once more when he plays with the wind to your ears, “Tasting lovely, baby girl.”

Nothing else is said as his lips dive into the sweet trail that he made for himself. Your body reacts to the sudden warmth by pulling away, but his hold on your shoulder reminds you of your place to stay where you are. The same hand reaches to drip on his elbow for mind stabilisation but your free one pushes against the broad of his back. Your legs hook around the back of his thighs to feel him indefinitely closer. It seems like the boy has learnt quickly, especially when it’s from you because just like the way you made him see the stars on the ceiling, he made you see it but with more intensity and brightness. 

Sunwoo loves unpredictability over anything, even though he appreciates how you value the opposite. One of the reasons he appreciates it is because he knows what to anticipate next whenever you both feel each other, and he loves the building climax. But you who is receiving his unpredictableness, can only curse him out whenever he tries something new on the body that he has come to be familiar of. The thrill of your groans and whines makes him feel in control and just like any other time, Sunwoo didn’t hesitate to plant something new on the curve of your neck. You sharply gasp at the way his teeth very lightly plunged into you but whimper louder at how he hallows his cheek on the area. From the corner of your eyes, you see the vein of his neck start to appear with his actions.

“You’re right.” He pulls away slightly to admire a part of him on you before diving again to properly clean your skin. “I do love you like this.”

Your lips are trembling in pleasure too much to string in proper words so you only whine to his acknowledgement. When one side of your neck is clean, he doesn’t bother keeping his touch to himself, briefly swiping anything that he can get on the way to the other side of your neck. Kim Sunwoo drives you crazy and your legs around his body tighten for another attempt to stabilise yourself.

Your jaw slacks when he bites again, this time just a tiny bit stronger as a response to your lower body. He lets you drop your head back, hand still on your nape so that he has control over the area he’s marking and maximises the pleasure that he can give. The tip of his tongue starts to alternate between the sucking and long stripes that you did to him. A satisfied chuckle hits a sensitive part around your collarbone area when Sunwoo feels his shirt further define his pectoral as you clench his fabric in your fist. 

Ragged breaths along with a mixture of wet kisses are all that’s bouncing between the four walls. Flushed bodies and heated skin press against the two who are afraid to love again. You’re aware of his heart pounding against his chest, knocking on yours to let him in. The closer he travels down to your chest, you’re afraid that he will feel the pounding, afraid that your hidden desires may show through and be overwhelming for him. The meaning behind your clench changes in time that your skin is now littered with a different colour because of his actions. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling and stepping back to admire his work.

You do the same, chest raising rapidly to account for the lost air, taking advantage of the space now that he’s pulled away. Sunwoo couldn’t help the small chuckle at your pout and he wipes them away by granting you another kiss, palms resting on the edge of the table, trapping you once more. Your noses comically bumped into each other, still lightheaded from before but you enjoy the atmosphere that would always come along after the intensity you poured out to each other. Your legs relax between his figure and both your hands delicately cradle his cheeks. 

The realisation strikes again: all you want is him. 

Him and everything of him.

The thought of him kissing someone else churns your stomach and makes you green, even though he’s not yours. You didn’t want anyone else cupping his cheek the way you do, and you didn’t want to see anyone else next to you when you opened your eyelids to the song of the morning birds. You want to be greeted by his chest or hairline when he needed comfort the night before. You want his “I love you”s and “I’ll miss you”s even if one of you is just going to another room in the building. You want to be the person that he can always lean on for whatever and whenever. You want him to be the person that you can cry ugly to. The wishes filled your body as you wished he would kiss you like this forever with or without the title that you would love to establish.

You feel the clenching of your heart when you open your eyes with the final pull of the remnants of vanilla, greeted with the shimmering orbs that you’ve fallen in love with. Your eyes are stuck onto the smile lines around his face and he’s entranced with every single part of you, staring at you with the honey dripping from his eyes. The smile you offer him is bashful and slightly tense. Of course, he caught up to that, humming at the sight of your pretty head filled with worries. His thumb glazes upon the apple of your cheeks and you wish he didn’t just so that you could save yourself from heartbreak. 

Kim Sunwoo makes you believe that love is worth it; that you’re worth it.

You wish you were more confident to tell him that.

Sunwoo leans his forehead onto yours, eyes planted on your downcasted gaze, “Hey, can I tell you what I wished for at the shooting stars?” but you only hum back, refusing to look at him, “Can you let me be the only person to touch, hold and kiss you like that?” There was a moment of silence as Sunwoo let you register his words. When it does click to you, your eyes shot up to his. A nervous chuckle is what he offers you but he doesn’t plan to take his words back, “It’s okay if you’re not ready. I’ll wait for you. But,” he swallows the anxiety down his throat, letting his face roam around your slightly confused face, “I can't stand the thought of someone else littering kisses all over you other than me.”

It’s genuine.

Kim Sunwoo’s eyes are different than any of the eyes that you once put your trust in.

It’s obvious.

“Jealous?” It was supposed to be more striking and playful but it turned out to be more tiring and insecure.

Again, he caught up to it and decided to carry on the narrative of your words with a careful tone, “You’d be fine with other girls running their tongues all over my face?”

The mention of your past actions started the multiple offences to his chest and the poor boy loves the flustered look on your face, complaints flying out of your mouth. In this moment when you both indulge in the comfortable relationship that you share, your posture relaxes and your hands rest on your laps. Shortly, Sunwoo joins his own there, fingers intertwining between yours and just like how he soothes the heaviness that you hold internally, his thumbs swipe across the back of your hand.

“If you do, I won’t let you off easily, Kim Sunwoo.”

You hope that he realises the real implication behind the words. Sunwoo’s brain buffered a little bit but soon enough, the straight line shape of his lips raised into something more. Along with it, his naturally mischievous personality also raised his eyebrows. “That’s my girl.”

You couldn’t help the giggle at how his face flush red after, bashful at the effect you had on him. Your fingers brush along the ends of his hair that seems to get in the way of his eyes.

“You should cut them or something.”

“I look hot like this though.”

“You always look hot.”

And there comes little shy Kim Sunwoo once more. 

“I-Instead of flirting with me, why don't you grant my other wish instead?”

“Oh yeah?” You lean back on the table, hands behind you for support, “I granted you your wish, shouldn’t you grant mine first before you ask for another one?”

“How about I grant them both at the same time?” 

“You don’t even know what I want.”

True.

As much as Kim Sunwoo has been paying attention to you, you’ve always been the girl to never fully express what they want despite the encouragement from your loved ones that they will always stand beside you no matter what. An idea brews in his head when you lean back and he catches the glimpse of the white rays shooting out from the sky behind you. You know with the way that his tongue swipes along his bottom lip, mouth slightly agape that he’s up to no good.

His hand leaves the marble you’re on, drawing closer to the side of your thigh to your waist. Innocently, he displays his big, round eyes to you and his actions contradict them heavily. A few of his fingers slip past not only the waistband of your skirt but also the fabric underneath it. You thought he would stop his ministrations there but his other hand traces the same path on the other side of your body, this time however even though his hand did not go under the underband, the clip behind clicks open.

“You can’t wish for anything until I show you the stars.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o

[sketchthetofu]

Day 4: Toxic (Relationship)

Um so… yeah I can’t justify this- I’m not normal about them at all- (also!!! My own Wight & Kota designs <3!)

[spookytrashturtle]

A man saying I love you while piercing another man's spine is absolutely heterosexual and friendship, isn't it? (waring: violence)

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[quinloki]

That twisted villain kind of love where he’s already decided you’re his, and you just need to accept that.

The kind of love where he grabs you by the back of your neck and shoves his tongue down your throat, reveling in the sounds you’re making even if you wanted to stay quiet.

It doesn’t matter that you’re choking and protesting, the flush on your face and the gasp for air when he leans back is all he’s looking for. You can spit on his face and he’ll lick it off before pulling you into another invasive kiss.

You can scratch and beat on him the entire time, please do struggle against the inevitable. He’ll dine on your resistance and acquiescence in equal measure. There’s so little space between Monster and Master, but he’ll push you over that line in time.

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Coco’s oneshot!

in another life.

lee heeseung x f!reader x ??? (it’ll make sense when you read I promise)

SYNOPSIS: in which losing you is the least of heeseung’s worries, until he’s forced to watch you slip through his fingers.

wc: 1.9k (almost 2k fr)!

genres: best friends to strangers, unrequited love (or is it), best friends to lovers

warning(s): heavy angst, toxic friendship/relationship, heeseung is mean, very very mean, manipulation (nothing too crazy), refusal to take blame, and heeseung needs to be humbled imo…ANYWAYS, small plot twist but not really! (a/n: header is ugly because I made it in like 2 minutes since it felt naked without one 🤣☝🏽)

Lee Heeseung knows about your feelings for him at  the mere age of eight, when you give him the other half of your popsicle stick that you’ve just bought with your very own allowance. His smile is so bright taking the food from your hand that it doesn’t even matter if you’ve spent all five of your dollars on the popsicle because as long as your youthful heart can see Heeseung smile, that’s all that matters to you.

Heeseung also knows about your feelings for him when you’re both sixteen and he proudly exclaims that he’s finally asked Jisun out after months of pining after her. A hurt look flashes across your face for one, two then three seconds, then as if it was never there, it’s gone. He thinks it might have been a bad idea to tell you but he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings you have for him and in his mind, he never will. 

Keep reading

[tardxsblues]

Wow! We're doing charm as well now, are we? Which one of us is dying?

[everyoneisalittlesadalittlehorny]

‘Please. Please.’ Please don’t leave. I beg, desperately. I don’t care how it looks, I just don’t want him to leave. He’s mistaken, he’s just angry. He doesn’t want to leave.

But he does.

I leave the door open for him. I’m bathing in sweet scents, shaving everything twice because he texted me at 2.00AM, asking me if he could come over. I know it’s a booty call, I know he won’t even wait for me to fall asleep before he creeps out of the house. I know he’ll pretend like it never happened. He’s been doing it for months now. I don’t care.

I just want him.

I will take whatever he’ll give me and I’ll live with it.

He cums in me, twice and leaves me on my bed as he goes to wash my scent off himself. I wrap the sheets that have soaked his sweat around myself and sleep. I’ll take him in whatever form he is willing to give me.

I know he’s using me. I know he never loved me. I also know that he can’t ever be truly satisfied without me. He sneaks away from his current squeeze every now and then just to fuck the daylight out of me. His partner can’t give him that. No matter who it is, they can’t give him everything like i do.

We all know this. They know how desperately in love with him i am. They know how he despises me but craves me at the same time. They know whatever they do, they can’t replace me. They can never give him every thing- not like i can.

It’s a convenient arrangement for them too. He hurts me, make love to them.

What all of us know but never say out loud is this- him hurting me is his way of saying he loves me.

[sublimepoliticsmusicbiscuit-blog]

My tastes run pretty specific. For romance, I need MUTUAL obsession. Not some run of the mill possessive shit.

So not a surprise my favorite shows are Hannibal and Interview with the Vampire. Until recently they were the only stories that satisfied me in the romance department.

Until I watched the Jdrama My Beautiful Man/ Utsukushii Kare.

Guys, watch it. If you need interesting characters who create an interesting relationship. A psychological story with romance at the centre. And feral mutual obsession/ love. Hoo boy! This is it. I now exist with a pit that no other content is able to fill. Seriously not kidding.

How do I erase my brain so I can experience this again?!?!

Also both these men are effin beautiful.

More people need to watch this!

[inheartofwinter]

For @drarrymicrofic 's song prompt "My Tears Ricochet" by Taylor Swift. G | 386.

Warnings: MCD, implied toxic relationship.

On My Grave

“Why is he crying?” Draco asked, watching his husband standing lifelessly in front of his grave. “Isn’t my death what he wanted?”

Death tilted her head. “Is it?”

Draco nodded. “It is. He said it. He regretted marrying me. He wanted to be the Wizarding World's hero. Everyone he loved wanted him to be the hero. He couldn’t be it with me by his side. He should rejoyce now that he could be the hero again.”

“If that were the case, shouldn’t he just divorce you? Or kill you long ago?”

Death's question caught Draco off guard. His heart had stopped beating but it could, it would have been dancing right now. The mere idea that Harry loved Draco more than being the Golden Boy made him elated. But Draco only entertained it for a second before shaking it away. He shouldn’t hope. Hope always brought despair. Nights of crying himself to sleep had taught him that.

“He's a hero. Heroes don’t go around abandoning their spouses or killing them. So he had to bear with me even if he did not want to,” Draco pointed out the most logical answer.

Death hummed. Draco could not tell if she was agreeing with him or not. Since his encounter with her, she had never shown any clear emotion. Maybe it was just right. Death was never anything emotional. It was the living that felt emotional over it.

“Anyway, he’s going to join us soon. You can ask him when the time comes,” Death said as she pulled Draco away. “Time to go.”

Draco's eyes widened. “What do you mean?!” he shouted but Death didn’t even give him a glance.

Draco anxiously looked back at Harry. He hadn’t moved an inch since Draco had waken up on his grave that morning. Harry didn’t look very lively, but he also didn’t look like someone who was going to die either. Draco chewed his lips, watching Harry’s figure becoming smaller and smaller.

Maybe Death was just saying nonsense. Maybe what Death meant by 'soon’ was dozens of years later. To a being like Death, that much time should be just a blink.

As Death pushed him through a gate, Draco decided to stop thinking. He was dead, anyway. Whatever happened to the living wasn’t his place to worry about.

[buubonita]

I'm still stuck on that silly idea where Nightmare lets Killer use his knife on him, I'm writing about it, slowly but there it goes.

Now I think Nightmare implements a reward and punishment system with his boys. Do things right and you get a treat, make a mistake and you learn to improve your performance. Simple but effective.

Dust probably messes up a lot and on purpose, he's very difficult, but he eventually learns that keeping Nightmare in a good mood (even if that's still a promise of cruelty sometimes) is better than making him angry.

Horror is a middle ground, but it's not hard to bend him in the right direction.

Killer has favoritism on top, but you'll see if that's a good thing when it comes to Nightmare.

If giving Killer false illusions of control helps him stay in line, then Nightmare allows it.

So you have him doing some sort of cathartic knifeplay with him until Killer learns full well that this was an orchestrated lie and the enthusiasm runs out like an open wound. They have eventually to find something new to dig on as usual.

[kflixnet]

Get ready for our member Mai's written series!!

BITE BY BITE — a lee heeseung series; masterlist.

in which you’re a vampire, and heeseung teaches you how he likes to be bitten.

SYNOPSIS. lee heeseung has one reputation, and it’s that he’s not afraid of anything: of rules, of authority, and especially not of vampires. he’s obviously bad news, and for such reasons, you’ve always made sure to never cross paths with him. however, it isn’t until one fateful night that you catch his eye and what he tells you makes your entire world flip on its axis.

“bite me, fangs. just like last time.”

PAIRING. college playboy!heeseung x vampire fem!reader

GENRES. romance, (modern) fantasy, slight action

WARNINGS. written series; swearing; descriptions of blood and violence; descriptive & suggestive (makeout) scenes (but no smut); some angst; heeseung is kind of a dick / overly flirtatious at times / slightly toxic (sorry I'm kinda into that) and yn is very timid to begin but I promise I'm a fan of character development

A/N. my bite me inspired fic HEHE I'm still streaming the shit out of that title saur </3... anyways I'm actually so excited for this because biteme!heeseung is making me spiral LMAAOO this series is lowkey just a thirst trap sorry :") hope u guys like this,, so much planned for it hehe. buckle in for a ride. . . >:)

MASTERLIST.

✩ ┈ bite I: ✩ ┈ bite II: ✩ ┈ bite III: ✩ ┈ bite IV: ✩ ┈ bite V:

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST!

TAGLIST IS OPEN — send an ask, dm, or reply! :> — THIS IS A WRITTEN SERIES ; not an smau !

╰┈➤ MY OTHER STORIES :)

[sleepydumplingprincess]

Art by 氏賀Y太

A little maichan spam

Only the real ones will appreciate it

[runraerun]

Read below the cut or on AO3 <-

Part 1 is here <-

(*Please heed the updated warnings before reading. Billy is not the nicest guy in this chapter. But remember: Angst with a happy ending. We’ll get there!)

Chapter Summary:

It becomes a thing.

Eddie can barely believe it.

He doesn’t know which Gods he accidentally sacrificed what to, but hooking up with Billy fucking Hargrove becomes a regular thing.

He’d track Eddie down—at his house, maybe at their spot in the woods, or sometimes even at a party—and drag Eddie off to some secluded area to have his way with him. They’d smoke together first, sometimes Billy would drink too if he brought his flask, and then they’d mess around to chase the high.

Eddie can’t remember ever being this happy.

Added Warnings:

• BIG content warning for violence, bordering on DV between romantic partners here. Billy is not nice in his fic (at least right now he isn’t), but I don’t plan on going any darker than this.)

• Deeply delusional thinking.

• Parental death mention.

• and of course, it’s rated E for smut reasons.

If you can handle all of that; enjoy!

—

It becomes a thing.

Eddie can barely believe it.

He doesn’t know which Gods he accidentally sacrificed what to, but hooking up with Billy fucking Hargrove becomes a regular thing.

He’d track Eddie down—at his house, sometimes at their spot in the woods, or even at a party—and drag Eddie off to some secluded area to have his way with him. They’d smoke together first, sometimes Billy would drink too if he brought his flask, and then they’d mess around to chase the high.

Sometimes Billy would pay Eddie, but he doesn’t make a habit of it. They have an understanding though; something that doesn’t need labeling or overthinking. It’s the kinda shit that’s beyond words.

And it isn’t like Eddie’s getting ripped off or anything. Hell no. Eddie’s getting some top level experiences with Billy, sex-wise. He’s pretty sure, anyway. He’s not exactly an expert, but Billy sure as shit seems to be. So if Eddie’s gotta sacrifice a few grams here and there to get some one on one time with the face-melter himself—yeah, Eddie’s gonna take it. He’s gonna sink his gay little claws into that hunk of man meat and hold on for dear life, praying he’ll make it out the other side in one, unbroken, lightly tenderized piece. Hell yeah, he’ll take that trade any day of the week.

Like right now. He could be making cold hard cash upstairs, but Billy had gotten to him first—and that shit takes precedence. They both showed up to this lame house party with a bunch of recently graduated dick-wads, all celebrating their shiny new acceptance letters and even shinier futures by buying fistfuls of pills from Eddie and washing ’em down with cheap beer.

But not Billy. Not Eddie either. No, when fall rolls around, they’re not going anywhere.

Eddie, ‘cause he’s gotta repeat the fucking twelfth grade again, and Billy because he’s almost as broke as Eddie is. Billy’s smart but he’s not full-ride on a scholarship smart.

The world moves, but they remain.

Eddie’s hips move too. Rutting up against the hard rubber sole of Billy’s boot, the ever increasing pressure of it sends shockwaves of pleasure directly to his denim-trapped dick.

Billy’s standing over him, sucking back on one of the joints Eddie’s rolled especially for him while Eddie’s on his knees, with a death grip on Billy’s shin. Eyes locked onto those baby blues, trying his fucking hardest to keep from making any noise. An almost impossible task when Billy’s gone ahead and made a fist in the back of Eddie’s hair, pulling it right where it feels good.

They’re in some kind of a cellar. The walls are lined with cans and jars and shit, with bare concrete for a floor. It’s cold. And of course his jeans have holes right at the knees, so second by second, he can feel the stone slowly leech the heat away from his body. But Eddie doesn’t care. Billy and him make do with whatever spot they carve out for themselves. Eddie’s not some chick that’ll demand a nice hotel room or candles or whatever—nah, he takes Billy where he’s at. That’s why Billy likes him. That’s why he keeps coming back.

It’s not always like this—sometimes they’re in the back of Billy’s car, or in the staff washroom at the Hawkin’s Pool, where Billy works. Sometimes Billy will even sneak into Eddie’s bedroom through his window, not say a word, and crawl into his bed. Those nights are Eddie’s favorite. Billy’s already drunk, usually, so he lets himself relax. They kiss each other until their mouths go dry or until one of them falls asleep. He’s gone before the sun is up, but Eddie gets to wake up to sheets that smell like Billy’s spicy, expensive smelling cologne. It’s gross, but he doesn’t change his sheets for weeks after.

The pull-switch from the single, flickering bulb above them is resting against Billy’s shoulder, wriggling around like a snake that’s in the midst of getting charmed. It’s the same silver as his dangling earring, along with the rings on Billy’s thick fingers. Silver suits him. Which makes sense, seeing as his skin already looks golden.

Fucking gorgeous. Like a movie star.

“You gonna cum sometime tonight, Munson?” Billy mutters around his cigarette, briefly pulling his hand from the door knob to pluck the joint from his lips. He flicks the ash off the end, exhaling in a great cloud of white smoke, before putting it back between his lips and re-securing the door, “I got shit to do.”

He sounds bored. Uninterested. But Eddie can see from the hard outline in his pants that he’s anything but. Billy likes to play this game. Like to act like he’s not enjoying himself when he very clearly is. Sometimes he lets it slip—let’s Eddie see. The walls go back up pretty rapidly after that, though. So quick it makes Eddie’s head spin sometimes.

But Eddie likes what he sees when it does happen. It feels forbidden. Something sacred—something none of the girls that Billy fucks gets to see. Because Eddie’s special.

“H-harder,” he sputters, feeling hot and cold all at once, like he’s got a fever, “just a little—yeah, yeah, that’s—Jesus, yeah, that’s perfect, Billy.”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Billy’s mouth as Eddie writhes up against the bottom of his boot. Billy leans forward a little more, putting his weight down on Eddie, pushing past the line, until Eddie can’t take it. He cries out. Whimpers, really. It isn’t that loud, but it’s enough for Billy to pull his hand free from Eddie’s hair and give him a quick, opened palmed smack against the cheek.

“Shut up,” he growls.

The sharp, sudden sting of it is always enough to re-center Eddie. To get him back in line. Billy never hits him hard enough to leave a mark, (though sometimes Eddie wishes he would) no, what Billy gives him is love taps. Reminders.

The hand that just slapped him is now over his mouth, strong fingers digging into the corners of his jaw to ensure his silence.

Eddie knows that Billy could seriously hurt him, but he doesn’t. All he ever does is make Eddie feel good. So fucking good…

The threads of pain and pleasure within him are plucked simultaneously, both reaching the same frequency in tandem. Eddie lets its harmony vibrate in his chest. He usually feels so goddamn hollow, but the sounds don’t echo tonight. Because when Billy’s holding him like this, Eddie is full. No more empty spaces. His cup overfloweth.

Tears form along the rim of his eyes from the pain, blurring his vision. He tries to keep his eyes open for as long as he can, but eventually he blinks, sending the tears streaking down his cheeks, onto Billy’s fingers.

Billy’s breathing goes a little ragged, and the hand holding the door securely shut is suddenly on his crotch, palming himself roughly.

Fuck, that’s hot.

So hot that Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head and he’s shooting a hot fucking load in his pants, hips stuttering up against Billy’s crushing weight. He’s panting through his nose, savouring the bond between him and Billy. Feels it strengthen with each pounding beat of his heart.

His head goes swimming, basking in a sea of freshly released feel-good chemicals his brain’s cooked up especially for him. Billy lets his hand slip from his face, but he leaves behind what feels like a brand in his wake. Eddie’s a marked man, even if he’s the only one who can see it.

His mom used to talk to him about things called soul-ties before she died. How you anchor parts of yourself to every person you make love to. So be careful who you choose, baby boy, she warned.

Eddie doesn’t think his mom would like Billy very much. Not at first, anyway. Not until Eddie explained to her what the things he did actually meant. How he made Eddie feel. How Billy Hargrove was hard and gruff on the outside, but that Eddie had peered through the veil—had spotted the secret soft side that Billy keeps so heavily guarded. He would explain to his mom how day by day, Eddie can feel the cracks widening. Like a dandelion pushing its way through concrete, until it reaches sunlight. Because what other option does it have? It’s that or shrivel up and die in the dark.

Eddie reaches up to touch between Billy’s legs, only to get his hand shoved away.

“Don’t,” Billy says firmly. He stubs out the roach out on top of one of the jars of pickled beets.

“Why not?” Eddie asks, eyes darting towards the door. They’re still alone. The basement was dark and downright creepy. Eddie doubts anyone from the party will be coming anywhere near the cellar door.

Billy doesn’t answer him. Just readjusts himself in an attempt to hide it. It’s still noticeable as fuck. “You had some good shit tonight, Munson.”

“Thanks,” Eddie murmurs, still a little light headed. He flinches when Billy sticks a hand in front of his face, blinking at it stupidly until he realizes it’s an offer to help him up. He takes it.

“Might come by your place this weekend. Get some more,” Billy licks his lips between his words. Not trying to be seductive, just… twitchy. Amped up. Probably from getting blue balled. “You gonna be around?”

Eddie nods, “Yeah, I’ll be home. My uncle’s working nights so… I’ll leave the porch light on for you?”

Billy ducks his head when he too nods, focusing his attention on his pants again. He probably wouldn’t have such a hard time hiding his stiffy if his jeans weren’t so goddamn tight.

…But then Billy’s jeans wouldn’t be so goddamn tight, and that’s a reality Eddie has absolutely zero interest existing in.

“Let me suck you off,” Eddie murmurs, keeping his voice low, barely above a whisper. Doesn’t wanna spook Billy. For someone that’s mostly made of hard muscle, he sure is a timid thing. Eddie didn’t know someone could be both fight and flight at the exact same time. “I want to,” Eddie adds with a tilt of his head, trying to catch Billy’s eye.

Billy gives a laugh that stays at the back of his throat. “Yeah, I bet you do.”

“So let me,” Eddie smiles as he takes a half step forward, not bothering to try and hide his eagerness.

The thought looks like it’s rolling around Billy’s head. Considering the proposition. Blue eyes meet brown. Eddie’s heart flutters.

“Maybe next time.”

Next time.

The hollow feeling in his chest comes back, and Eddie feels the smile slip from his face. His chin starts doing something weird too.

It’s always next time.

Never—

“Don’t pout,” Billy groans, like Eddie’s being annoying for spiralling down a tunnel of self-loathing. He slots a hand against the side of Eddie’s face, using a thumb to trace the ridges of his mouth, “your lips don’t look half as pretty when you do that.”

Eddie leans into the pout, just to push back against Billy. It just makes Billy chuckle, so of course fireworks start shooting off in Eddie’s head. Making Billy laugh was a rare feat. Not just anyone can do it. But Eddie’s special.

Billy grins, a flash of canines. “C’mon man, I thought we were having fun.”

Eddie sucks in a quick breath, frustration boiling over, “I just… I just don’t get why you won’t ever let me return the favour—it doesn’t gross me out or anything. I like it! And, just so you know, I don’t care if you’re like, small or anything, I won’t judge, I just—“

In an instant, that hard-won smile on Billy’s face twists into something ugly. Furious.

The air shifts, and Eddie’s back is slammed against the many shelves along the wall. A jar of pickled something goes careening off the ledge and shatters next to their sneakers. It stinks like vinegar. Makes his eyes water.

Billy’s got a hand around Eddie’s throat, the one that was just cradling his face, now holding him in place. The pressure quickly builds in his temples, and he wheezes in an attempt to pull a panicked breath in. His spent dick twitches in his jeans, which—fuck, of course Eddie gets off on this. Jesus Christ he really is one broken son of a bitch.

“I’m not,” Billy leans in, speaking between clenched teeth, agonizingly slow, “small.”

Some suicidal part of Eddie’s impulse-control-deficient brain opens his mouth to mutter something about a gentleman protesting too much, but thankfully he can’t seem to make anything more than a few wet sounding choked noises.

A beat passes where nothing happens except the corners of Eddie’s vision start to go a little wonky. Darkness creeps in, framing Billy, making his blue eyes seem sort of electric. Eddie digs his nails into the meat of Billy's forearm, waiting for him to snap out of it.

He does. Like a rubber band, time snaps back into motion. Catches up with his Cali boy.

Billy yanks his hand off of Eddie’s neck like it had been burning him and he’d only just realized. He opens his mouth, his eyes gone wide and wild, but nothing comes out. Instead, he just gets this look on his face after he knows he went too far. A look that shaves nearly a full decade off of him, making Billy look eight rather than eighteen.

“It’s okay,” Eddie croaks out, getting ahead of Billy before he spirals, “m’not hurt, see? It’s okay.”

It’s only half true, and Billy can tell, because the next second Eddie has a coughing fit. Like his throat’s trying to reset itself. When he’s finally caught his breath and wiped the spit from his mouth with his shirt sleeve, Billy’s still staring over at him through the eyes of a scared little kid.

“I’m fine,” Eddie insists, but Billy just… looks at him. His hands clenched up into fists by his hips. Frozen.

It’s only when Eddie risks reaching for him that he seems to remember how to move. He backs away a step, blinking rapidly, like he’s trying to reorient himself.

“Wait… wait here for twenty minutes after I go,” he begins, words shakey at first before he seems to remember that he’s Billy fucking Hargrove, and that Eddie’s just… well, Eddie’s just lucky to be here. “Then leave through the basement door, got it?”

The cellar gets colder with each passing second, and Eddie’s sure it’ll drop another few degrees when Billy leaves, taking his body heat and golden skin with him. Eddie pulls his arms around himself, tucking his hands in his pits to try and keep ‘em warm.

“Got it,” he mutters from his sore throat, his hollow chest. He worries his bottom lip.

Billy usually goes. He doesn’t make a habit of hanging around after he’s made it clear he’s finished. Not one for long goodbyes, his Billy.

But he doesn’t go. He hovers. Sways a little, like he’s trying to gather momentum to make his move. Eddie wonders if he’s thinking of ways to try and fix something that doesn’t need fixing in the first place. Because Eddie isn’t fragile; you can’t break something if it’s already broken.

“I really am okay,” Eddie reiterates quietly, with a shrug of a shoulder, “don’t worry about me, man. I’m tougher than I look.”

Resilient, his mom called him. Like a stubborn little weed, she teased. It’ll serve you well when I’m gone.

Eddie hated it when she had talked like that, but now that she really was gone and those words are all he’s got left of her, he runs them through in his head, over and over, re-committing them to memory like prayers to saints.

Eddie feels the air shift around him as Billy takes a step back into Eddie’s personal space. He reaches forward to fix something that’s apparently gone askew with Eddie’s hair, then his hands move down to Eddie’s collar, straightening it up. Like he’s tidying up a mess before he leaves.

Then, like he just can’t help himself, Billy leans forward and captures Eddie’s mouth with his. Some nights Billy’s kisses are soft and gentle. Tonight they’re hungry, and eager. They’re the kind of kisses that make you go weak at the knees and stiff at the nipples.

Billy opens his mouth, and Eddie follows suit. Their tongues glide against one another’s, tasting, drinking from each other's mouths. The scratch of Billy’s stubble is nearly enough to get him hard again.

But just as quickly as it starts, it’s over. In one fluid motion, Billy pulls away, swings the cellar door open and disappears through into the darkness, getting gobbled by the darkness.

Eddie reaches up and touches his lips as they slowly pulls into a smile, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest.

Forgiving, his mom had also called him. Another compliment.

Maybe a little too forgiving, she added, and he remembers how her big brown eyes that he’d stolen from her went all soft and watery. Eddie knows how much she hated crying, but near the end she seemed to do so damn much of it. Impending death will do that to a person, he supposes.

I’m sorry I won’t be there to protect you, bug. You’ll have to learn to protect yourself, her voice echoes in his head.

No, Eddie’s mom wouldn’t have liked Billy.

But, unfortunately, Eddie loves Billy. More than he knows he should. More than what’s healthy. He feels anchored to Billy.

Soul-tied.

He smokes a cigarette while he waits the twenty, then leaves via the basement door, just like Billy told him to. No one’s the wiser.

He should feel like shit. Guilty, maybe. Or dirty, at the very least.

But all Eddie can think about is this weekend, about the next time he gets to see Billy. All he can think about is next time.

Next time.

As he gets in his van, puts her in reverse, but when checks his rear view, he goes rigid. Brown eyes that look so much like his mom’s stare back at him.

There’s a shock of bright red where there would normally be white stained across his left eye. A burst blood vessel. That must’ve been what Billy got so spooked over.

He blinks, but the red doesn’t clear up no matter how many times he does it. They just go watery, and eventually he has to look away.

He hated seeing her cry.

…Sorry, mom.

—

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