#when you want to spill on tumblr but also don't

[adlibitur]

*even more rugged ben affleck smoking jpeg*

[dilfosaur]

well i haven't spilled my guts on tumblr since i was in college but it's the platform that's felt The Most Mine thru the years, so

let's talk!

i've had a huge chip on my shoulder that i wanted off before the year ends. very bad professional experience to follow

so firstly to get ahead of the speculating, i'm not naming names or anything. some of you will puzzle out who i'm talking about, but please don't bother anyone especially not on my behalf. i've worked hard to distance myself from them the past few months. shit happens, especially when you're a dumb bitch (that's me!)

but also this person was someone i considered a close friend and it makes me uneasy to possibly direct backlash at them. "then why post about it" bc i did intermittent work for them for over a year. this is just about that. so hear me out

basically it started off fine. i initially did some commission work for good pay, then was invited to become more involved with their team. unfortunately as i became more involved with their operation it became more disorganized over time. projects started then forgotten, constantly shifting schedules, lapsing communication between roles, confusing financials, and often inconsistent if not late payments. during mid 2023 i was doing colorist work, sometimes on a one day turnaround (all while also preparing drawfee's summer merch launch). the payroll wasn't set up correctly so i wasn't paid for that work for over a year (more on that later), tho to be fair that was largely my own fault at first as i just didnt realize the payments didn't go thru lol

i always consider myself decently capable of separating friendship and coworker-ship; i run a company with 4 wonderful friends, going strong for almost 5 years. that didn't really work out in this case. by early this year our friendship was on the rocks; work issues fed into personal issues and vice versa. so as the rest of this shit plays out, we had just had our first "big fight" which i felt very bad about and added to all the upcoming tension

a huge point of friction was the fact that i really wanted to work with them to make a music video for one of their songs. i've always wanted a chance to make a music video, was confident in a concept i came up with, and even did some concept art for the idea. everyone insisted they loved the concept and that we should do it, but we kept pushing it back for various reasons. it ended up becoming a huge sticking point for my frustrations, which i tried to express productively. TLDR, we eventually got around to discussing it seriously around april.

i planned to ask for $4000 with negotiable add-on for the whole project, which was my Friend Discount price. i was offered a contract for $1000 flat rate, as they insisted that was the only budget they had for it.

don't ask me why i signed it lol. i didn't even counter offer

there was some girlmath to it: i wanted an extra 1k for a student scholarship i provide every spring and well, there it was. but if i had to guess, i saw it as something i just couldn't back down from any more. i caused these folks- my friends- a lot of problems bc i dug my heels in so deep to chase this project, so fuck it we ball

i had about 4 months to solo a 3 minute music video. they wanted it done in august so they could release it before summer ended, bc "it was a summer song". to be fair i was asked if i needed them to pay for anything extra like assistants (which i would have to find and manage) but i was so immediately overwhelmed that i didn't wanna slow down to wait on that process lol. there was very minimal communication other than brief progress check-ins every few weeks. i did everything for that project myself: the original concept, character designs, storyboards, layouts, backgrounds. i even did the editing/compositing for the final cut of the MV. the only favor i did myself was limiting the amount of it that was actually animated to simple loops and motions. hardly my best work but it was work still done

i did it all in between my full time job. i ended up having to take nearly a month away from most of my drawfee duties (with the support of the others) to make the august deadline. i only ever asked for a 3 day extension (notice given about a week in advance, around the same time i was given the final song file lol). i finished the music video at 6am on the final deadline and recorded drawfee the next day on 2 hours of sleep

but it was done, coolies. the team was very happy with the final product. honestly, without getting into it, those were a very emotionally taxing 4 months. on the professional side, i regretted agreeing to the project and especially for the dogshit rate they offered. i felt like a hypocrite- as someone who always wanted to advocate for younger artists demanding their worth in a world that's getting increasingly hostile toward creatives, i failed myself

so when i met with the manager to discuss the release plan, i told them to do whatever worked best for them as i only had one request: i wanted my credit removed from the project

tbh... like... lmao this dramatic bitch right!! but really, i decided that bad practices only breed worse business. friends or not, it was unprofessional of me to accept such a low paying job so i just didn't want my name used in association. everything felt so muddled to me and i was just really tired at this point

the manager was very understanding and then offered that i could be paid more. they said that their team "was surprised" i accepted their low rate and they would be happy to up the amount. this confused me as the initial budget seemed pretty set and at no point between april and august was i offered a better rate. i knew these guys weren't made of money. so, i declined. i didn't want to put anyone out of their means over work that was already done and agreed upon. but more importantly, i was over the whole thing and didn't want to prolong the project with a contract renegotiation. i just insisted my name be removed

they decided to use a pseudonym (which i was fine with) so they could create a story about a character who made the MV (this sounds really convoluted but i don't know how better to put it without getting specific, sorry). that way if people asked about the credit, they could speak comfortably about it without signaling that something went wrong behind the scenes. ok, kind of a silly narrative imo but whatevs. and maybe this is where i finally went truly wrong but. yolo i guess

i gave the name "D. Smithee", D as in dilfosaur and Smithee as in Alan Smithee. look it up for fun film trivia ig! was it passive aggressive of me to reference that in this context? yeah, honestly. but i thought it was kinda funny and really not that deep. if it was a problem, i have other real, non-cheeky pseudonyms i regularly use. the manager accepted it and all i had to do was wait for them to post the video and i could leave the whole experience behind me

a week later i received a message from the manager that my pseudonym had been denied by the rest of the team bc one of them got the reference. fair enough lol. however, they decided that rather than ask for a different name, the were going to make one up for me that they liked and would "fit the [story]", without asking me

and that! is when i finally snapped!

i was so tired of giving them concessions at this point and having a credit made up for me without any input from me felt genuinely violating and unethical. i started to Panic bc of how stressed i was, and asked for my overdue payments (aka the $500 still owed on the MV, and the colorist rate from a year prior that was never paid even tho i reported it in january) to be scheduled ASAP as i was leaving the work discord immediately

i finally told them off for exploiting me throughout the months while i kept trying to just be nice and finish my contact cleanly. in return i was told that it was unfair to say that as i agreed to everything- i accepted their cheap rate and denied further payment so that was all settled, and it was ok to change my credit without my consent bc i "said they could do whatever with the release". i called bullshit, ended the convo as kindly as i could, and cried lol. they agreed to ditch the pseudonym and just give no credit. that night was the last i heard from anyone on that team

and the real kicker?

august came and went. then september, october... and they never released the music video

and i don't know why, because i was never contacted about it. i've been removed from the picture entirely i guess. 4 months and boatloads of stress. just. up in smoke. i don't know what i expected honestly

it's hard to not take everything that happened personally and as done in bad faith. i really do, honestly. i've had plenty of shitty deals in my almost 10 year art career, but it hits different from people you saw as friends. but to the point of "why not keep it private", i have never felt so disrespected as a professional as i did this past year. i can toy with money and credits and other formalities all i want, but my work- my ideas, my labor, my effort- is still so important to me. i felt like the biggest idiot for doing so much work, pouring so much of myself into a piece for someone's use, for what has amounted to nothing

but more importantly i hated myself for undervaluing my work, even if initially i thought this person was a trusted friend. money is not really an issue for me- drawfee is my main job and i am fine and comfortable. it's so important to pay artists appropriately but i often undersell my own work bc i value the collaboration and passion between creatives more than the reward. i think a lot of artists tend to feel the same, and it often makes us easy to take advantage of. it's so difficult to find the balance between passion and making a fair living, and i think there's some shame within ourselves when artists choose to prioritize that passion

i wanted to finally get all this off my chest bc i was ashamed of every choice i made. things like this happen all the time i'm sure and hiding these mistakes only make it easier for it to happen to other people

tldr always value your work and protect your passion from people who just see it as a product. and don't give cheeky pseudonyms i guess lol

(and again pls don't bother anyone involved about this. a lot of chaos has left my life as i moved past all this, and this is me closing a door without opening new ones hopefully lol)

this shit was truly

so ass.

but i'm moving past it now

but on a nicer note. outside of all of this nonsense, i made lots of good memories this year. i'm truly so grateful to the many wonderful people in my life who keep me going even when i fuck up big time!

and thank you to all of you strangers who, despite everything, give me the time of day. especially if you read this whole thing. you're a real one :')

happy new year!

[hyuckmov]

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

wc: 11k (lol) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: unprotected sex, making out, creampies, fingering, oral (f recieving), lowkey don't have that dog in me anymore so this is kind of vanilla, dirty talk, aftercare...? needs to be read after part 1 and 2 a/n: fucking finally. so so so sorry for the wait and also this is lowkey probably so BAD because its been a hot minute since i've written for tumblr. because this could be written/ended in so many ways, AN EPILOGUE IS COMING with a 'happy' ending, just not putting it here in this part because i think i should post this out first on it's own. i love you guys so much, thank you to every single person who's read, commented, let me know how much you liked it, and waited so patiently. i cannot express how much it means to me.

—

"whose party is this again?" 

"jaemin's friend chenle," mark says, placing his drink down on one of the tables. "think they should be around here somewhere." 

through the smoke, he can see your eyes shine. you've come even closer now, and it's as if every movement of yours is liquified, rendered in slow-motion – you flick a strand of hair out of your face and it's like he can feel the damp air on your cheeks, a slow smile spreading across your face like sunrise spilling over the horizon, that lovely curl of your lip that he's memorized. he feels his chest cave in when he hears you laugh, feel you take another step closer to him even though your eyes never meet his, even though you never look his way – every memory he has of you threatening to burst through his seams. 

your skin glows under the dizzying lights, and all he can think about is the fact that you’re so close, he could reach out his hand and touch you. but he can’t. you weren't his – and he was the one who had thrown you away.

jisung comes up to you, and haechan can see his friend's shy smile met with your beaming grin as you turn to face him. jisung is saying something to you – a hand gently placed on your shoulder as he speaks into your ear, the other gesturing vaguely towards the upstairs rooms. and then you're nodding, and haechan watches wide-eyed as he takes your hand in his and begins guiding you up the stairs. 

he can't help it – he only waits a beat, enough for you to disappear up the stairs, before he's rushing through the crowd, climbing the stairs two at a time. he rounds the corner just as he sees the flick of your skirt as you disappear into the nearest room, the door clicking shut softly. taking a moment to calm himself down – chest heaving, wringing his hands – he pads softly towards the room, placing both hands on the door, straining to hear anything that might be going on. 

low voices. the rustling of fabric. haechan's imagination spun out of control – jisung's large hands on your skin, his plush lips exploring your neck, your soft sounds, the way you might look under him. he heard a light laugh, and he pressed even closer to try to catch what was being said – what if he had you on his lap? what if you laughed because he'd kissed you behind the ear like haechan did once? it had caught you by surprise, and you'd giggled – burying your face in the crook of his neck. you were sorry. you were just sensitive. haechan had wanted to pull you into his chest and never let you go. 

he knew he was breaking his own heart – over-analyzing each muffled sound that came through, all his thoughts drifting back to memories of you. but he couldn't seem to peel himself away as the party raged on and on downstairs, didn't want to be anywhere else but near you even if you didn't know he was there. he had never felt this way with anyone else before – never needed anyone else like this, never afraid like this – and the realisation roared loud in his ears along with the feverish ghost of your fingerprints all over his skin. 

–

jisung knows haechan's going to talk to him. 

can see it in the way he hangs back after practice, fiddling with his guitar and placing it back on its stand, before picking it back up again for no real reason. there was something off, slightly, about haechan these days. not enough for jeno or mark to comment about it, to hold an intervention, but things had definitely changed – haechan never brought around girls, or showed any interest when jeno and mark would discuss them. he was quiet, and subdued during practice, absorbed in his own guitar, or else discussing new songs with mark in low voices. and strangest of all – jisung mused, slinging his own bass over his shoulder as he ambled to the door – haechan started to seem afraid of jisung. 

jisung – who had for the longest time been the most timid and shy of the group, the least experienced by far. he remembered how haechan would tease him if a girl paid him any slightest bit of attention: half-joking, but half trying to build up his friend's confidence. he remembered how he used to be wary of haechan's attention at after-show parties, because haechan would watch him like a hawk and push him into any girls he showed the vaguest interest in. he remembered his shock at haechan, who had never been mean or vindictive – a pain sometimes yes, but never truly cruel to him –, standing there obstinately in his place on stage, staring down at you in the crowd. 

to the version of haechan now, who could barely look him in the eye. 

"jisung?" 

haechan clears his throat. jisung stops in his tracks, turning back to look at haechan. 

"yeah?" 

haechan's gaze is directed at his shoes. swallowing, he takes a moment before he asks. "uh…how was…um…how've you been?" 

jisung has to stop himself from laughing out loud. "i've been good," he says, amiably. he's not going to let haechan have it easy. 

"nice…nice," haechan mumbles. "uh…seeing anybody?" 

"haechan," he keeps his tone light. "come on." he moves towards where haechan is standing awkwardly, taking a seat down on one of the stools. after a beat, haechan sits down too. 

"how did it go with y/n?" haechan sounds almost timid – like a child asking a question, but scared of knowing the answer. 

"can't you ask her yourself?" he knows he's making things difficult, but he needs haechan to work for it. needs haechan to articulate, because he knows that's the least you deserve. 

"i…i could," haechan says. "but i…i don't want to seem possessive. i already fucked up by wishing her luck on the date and i just…" he buries his face in his hands. jisung doesn't say a thing, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "i don't want to hurt her anymore…but i need to know. i need to know what to expect.…" haechan's voice is so small, like he's disappearing into himself. 

"haechan…" he starts, slowly, but haechan cuts in, hurriedly. 

"if you really love her, jisung, if you're happy together, i'll back off. i won't see her again. it'll be…it'll be too hard to see her with you but that's for me to figure out. you…you should both be happy. she deserves you, ji. you'll be good for each other." 

"what are you even saying…" jisung lets out a nervous laugh. he knows haechan tends to get dramatic – loves blowing moments out of proportion, lingering on stories that were fun to tell and relive. loves to exaggerate – always taking the smallest details too seriously and making light of things that had real consequences. but as he watches haechan – curled in on himself, he sees that this is something else entirely. this haechan was anxious and overthinking, unsure of himself, fractured into a thousand different wants and needs. 

"i'm serious, jisung." haechan, the vocalist he is, keeps his voice as steady as possible. "i'll back off if you tell me to. if i'm making it hard for you in any way…" 

"haechan, it's…it's going to be fine. it's not what you think." 

"you…you're not together now?" a hint of hopefulness. 

jisung chooses to be kind. "we're not," he says, gently. when haechan's lips part, he continues on, interrupting him. "it had nothing to do with you. we're just…not." 

"i'm sorry," haechan murmurs, finally lifting his head. "i know you wanted it to work out." he truly means it.

"i'm happy with the way things are now," jisung says it, and he means it too. "but…but you know she's going to start seeing other people, right?" 

a beat. "yeah…yeah of course." 

"you can't go after all of them and ask them if it's working out or not, you know?" jisung says, wryly. "at some point…you need to just talk to her." 

"i…" haechan break off, a pained expression flitting over his face. "i don't have anything to say. but i really want her to be happy. i just want her to be happy. but it sounds…" he catches the look on jisung's face. "i know it sounds like a guilt-trip. i know what it sounds like." 

"give her space," jisung suggests, quietly. "figure out what you're willing to give. who you can be for her."

"hyuck or haechan." he says it almost spitefully. he had never hated the difference more. 

-

you were in the crowd today. 

it had been a little over a month – 6 days more, to be exact, – since haechan had last seen you in the crowd, each time spotting your face easily, everyone else fading to nothing. each time noting every which way your eyes shimmered under the lights, the ways your pretty lips curved into a smile or a shout, or even each time you looked away, distracted. 

he'd practically rushed into the dressing room after the show ended, anxious hands tugging at his clothes, trying to fix himself up just in case you decided to come find him. questions had spun around in his mind so much during the show, he was afraid he would start singing them in place of mark's carefully written lyrics. he's thought of a thousand ways to bring it up, but he wishes he could just ask — how've you been? have you forgotten me? 

he's still lost in thought when the dressing room door opens softly, the lock turning gently in the door barely louder than a whisper. 

"haechan?" 

he turns, and you're there. you're wearing a new dress, probably the shortest one he's ever seen on you, black glittery fabric barely brushing the tops of your thighs. but he doesn't linger on your body, his eyes seeking out your own, the flush of anticipation and adrenaline in your cheeks, the way your hair falls slightly loose, framing your face. the question is on the tip of his tongue, his lips are parting, his breath catches in his throat –  

" – don't worry," you say, breathlessly, as you catch the look on his face. "no one saw me." 

oh. 

walking towards him, you pull him into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck, so you can brush your lips against his cheek. pulling away, you peer at him, wondering why he's looking at you so lost. like he was wondering something since he laid eyes on you tonight.

you frown. "were you going to ask me something else?" 

his lips part, soundlessly. you've never seen him so speechless. his arms tentatively circle around your waist, fingers brushing the fabric of your dress, and understanding dawns on you. 

"yes, it's a new dress," you smile. 

he swallows, the cloudy look clearing from his eyes as he finally runs his heavy touch down your back, a feeling you've grown used to. 

his tone is slightly darker when he plays along, masking the traces of disappointment. "for me?" 

you nod, letting his hands wander to the zipper, eyes traveling to the mirror to catch the way he fiddles with it, slowly starting to drag it down your spine. 

what you don't catch, is the way he's looking at you – lip caught between his teeth, eyes focused on the side of your face, regret and sadness and a desire he still couldn't shake coursing through his body. you had come back – and maybe that was all that he should care about. 

"come home with me," he blurts out, suddenly. "i have to show you something." 

confused, you look back at him, frowning. "now?" 

he swallows. "yes. we'll still…it's just…" he stammers, confidence draining as he watches you zip your dress back up. "i mean…i just…thought you'd like my bedroom more than this dressing room. you said- you said it was uncomfortable, that last time…" he trails off. his head droops, fingers picking at his nails. 

you place your hands on his chest. his head lifts just slightly, glancing at you through his lashes. "haechan," the ache in your chest making your voice soft – barely above a whisper. "why are you so nervous today?" 

"i'm sorry," he starts, but you shake your head. "it's been awhile."

"that's fine, i'll go home with you," you say, smiling, hoping to reassure him. the words instantly relax him, and he lets out a breath. you can feel his chest move under your palms. 

"i'm sorry," he repeats, softly, but you don't know what he's saying it for. 

–

you don't know how you ended up here. 

one moment, haechan was unlocking his door, one hand fumbling with the keys as he held yours tightly in his other palm. the next, you were pushing him against the door – his plush lips, soft and tasting slightly like honeyed lip balm, finally kissing you deeply in a way you'd craved. and then he was sweeping you up into his arms, your legs locked in around his waist, his bag slumping to the floor as he focused all his attention on you. placing you on the countertop, he takes his time with your lips – his hand first cupping your face, then working its way down your neck, as if he was making sure you were wholly real through touch since his eyes were closed for the kiss. 

"hyuck?" you murmur. 

guilt pricks at your conscience when you feel him falter. you would never admit that you realized the name did something to him – made him more desperate and more tender all at once. you used it sparingly, only in certain moments, and tonight seemed just right for it, what with the way his touch was already so infused with longing. 

he hums in acknowledgement, pausing. a gentle palm tilts your face towards his, and his eyes are wide and patient. 

"what's wrong?" he asks. 

"i want to suck you off," you mumble, your words coming out rushed and careless. you almost think he might not catch it, but haechan goes still. his hands, caressing your face, stop moving.  

"what?"

your mind explodes with a million thoughts. did he not want you to? how many girls had sucked him off before you – did he think you wouldn't be good enough? was he not attracted to you enough? 

he was still just looking at you – something unreadable in his eyes. 

"do you not want me to?" you ask, doubt making your tone come off a little more insecure than you'd have liked. "is it…is it because i've never done it before?" 

he blinks. "what?" he repeats, again. 

you shift, uneasy. "you can teach me," you insist, holding onto his arms, wanting to be closer to him. "i'll practice…" 

"oh god," he whispers. "oh… oh y/n…" his hands barely skim your skin, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear. "don't," he says, quietly. 

"why?"

i don't want to hurt you," he says, voice so tender it wavers under the weight of his feelings for you. "being able to touch you is already everything to me-" he trails off, biting his lip, and then he's weak in the knees, and you melt into his embrace as he holds your body against his. "i don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with." 

"i want to please you like the girls before," you protest, weakly. "i want to…i want you to tell me your fantasies." 

"all that matters to me," he says, slowly, eyes suddenly grave and solemn. "is that i'm here with you. just you." he holds your hands up to his lips and kisses the tips of your fingers. 

you don't know what to say. the charged atmosphere from before has dissolved into the night, leaving a balmy and sweet taste on your tongue. the only thing that feels right is to hold him in your arms and hold him as close as you can. 

he's looking at you, before suddenly pulling you into him as if he could read your mind – arms wrapped protectively around your back, one hand coming up to stroke your hair as you lean into his chest. 

the memory of that first night comes back to you – the first time he rejected you. he hadn't wanted to hurt you then, either. and then he proceeded to in all ways possible – playing with your heart in a terrible back and forth. and then he disappeared from your life, and then he came back and something was different – in the way he touched you, looked for you, looked at you, was careful with you. 

but you moved on – told jaemin, told yourself you weren't waiting. you'd gone on a date with jisung, and then to some more with a few other guys on campus. you didn't hang around the band all the time now – didn't show up for every concert. and even when you did, you rarely stopped by to see haechan – spending more and more time with jisung, who was steadily becoming one of your closest friends. 

you tried to keep things light when you did visit haechan. always easy, relishing in how well he knew how to please you, how he always knew what to say. and for the most part, he was able to play along – a smile always tugging at the corner of his lips, or his tongue poking into his cheek as his eyes turned dark. 

but it was on nights like these – when the moon was a bit too bright and the air between your lips and his dense like honey, your skin heated and his face flushed – when you used the wrong name, or he said things too vulnerable and too intimate. it was on nights like these when you are faced with the reality that he made you feel the way no one else could – even as he was ever-changing, ever showing you a different side of himself. on these nights you plunge your hands deep into the kaleidoscope of him, and its like diving into shattered glass. 

–

"i wanted to show you this," he murmurs, shyly. 

he places a pair of headphones clumsily on your head, his long fingers scrambling to adjust it on your head, trying not to pull at your hair. your hands come up to help, and you shoot him a reassuring smile. 

it was even later in the night. you were both showered and dressed for bed – you in a long-sleeved shirt of his that you liked. when you came into the bedroom, he was fiddling with his laptop – and you could hear snippets of his honey-sweet voice starting and stopping as he tapped at his keyboard. it was natural, to head over to the bed and lean your head on his shoulder, as he started to explain to you what he was doing, eventually grabbing his headphones from the bedside table. his skin smells faintly of baby powder, and his bare face under the dim light is so soft – mellowed curves, the constellation of moles on his cheek ever visible, eyes tired but warm. 

he clicks play, and his voice fills your ears – clean, without any backing vocals or instruments. you try to catch the lyrics, but he mumbles through his words, voice meandering effortlessly around the melodies, drawing beautiful loops. his voice is delicate and gentle, flowing water with a current of electricity running through it, humming and buzzing with dangerous life. 

it ends all too quickly, and haechan – who was watching your face carefully the entire time, clicks on a few more tracks. you can hear his voice, muffled from under the headphones, start to explain. 

"that's…that's my draft for the melody. i made it for this, uh, it's one of mark's demos–" 

a sultry, low beat now plays, low strings filling in the gaps. when his voice leaks in, you feel your cheeks start to heat up. the same melody from before – so innocuous and sweet, maybe something even vulnerable – sounds sinful all of a sudden. you can practically hear the scream of the crowd punctuating each line, and now even the way he mumbles is hazed with a sort of suggestive glow. 

you look at him, wide-eyed. he's still watching your face, this time his lip caught between his teeth, looking up at you through his lashes. when the song ends, you tug the headphones down from your ears, and he takes them from you absentmindedly.

"mark told me to try writing for that. he said it suited my voice —" 

"it does," you respond. your hands reach out to play with his, tracing the way his fingers curved, running your touch along his calloused finger-tips. 

"but i…i don't know. i want to write something…something that feels…" he stumbles over his words, eyes lingering on the way your hands play with his, the gentleness of your touch. "that feels like this," he finishes, softly. 

"like what?" you hum, tracing loops on the back of his hand. 

but he doesn't respond. 

"do you like it?" he asks, quietly. 

you give his hand a squeeze. "sing it for me?" 

his hand trails off to the keyboard again, but you hold it steady in your palm. "no, sing it for me now. here." 

he's still. you almost think he won't do it, but then he's pushing the screen of his laptop shut, and he turns to face you. 

this time, when he sings, he gets all the words out. 

in person, his voice is hushed and soft, like every word is a secret. his eyes flutter shut, and he ducks his head shyly as he continues. when he ends, his voice trails off, and he doesn't turn to look at you, staring at his hands. you stay silent, until it's like he can't bear it, and his head turns to face you, eyes seeking reassurance. 

"i like it just like this," you tell him, softly. 

his smile blooms. 

—

"keep haechan on his toes," jaemin says, leaning back in his chair. the steam from the coffee he made – a 2am jaemin specialty — curled gently in the air, your hands nursing the mug in front of you, sipping just to have something to do. "don't see him for awhile. keep him guessing." 

"that's cruel," you mumble. 

"he's done crueler," he points out. "you know you don't owe him anything, right?"

"i know i don't," you say, slowly. "i just think that it would kill me not to know how he's doing. if he was going on dates with other people…" 

"and would he tell you?" 

no, is your automatic answer, one you can't run from in your head, but jisung cuts in. 

"he wouldn't go on a date with someone else," he shakes his head, leaning back in his chair so he could stretch out his long limbs. blinking sleep from his eyes, he shook his head again to clear his bangs away from his eyes. it had been late already when he showed up, after a show, bringing food, a tired but giddy smile on his face. "you really fucked him up, that's all i'm going to say."

"he may not go on a date, but he'd fuck someone else, probably." jaemin rolls his eyes. 

"we actually haven't fucked in awhile." the realization feels like butterflies in your chest – an uneasy, fluttery feeling. 

"what?" jisung looks at you in disbelief. "sorry," he adds, suddenly sheepish when both you and jaemin stare at him. "i just thought that was the big part of your relationship." 

"it was…" you say, slowly. ignoring how jisung said 'relationship' when it was really never that. "but…but i don't know. recently we always get distracted…or… or he's… i don't know." 

you think of his unmade bed. the careful, tender loop of his arm around your waist. you think of the way his lashes flutter when you lean in to kiss him – 

and yet, there was something bigger bothering you about this, something that tugged at your gut, the words forcing themselves out of you. 

"i hate that it feels like there's nothing more to me than this." 

"y/n, what are you talking about?" jaemin asks, his voice quiet. when you pause, he presses on, urgency in every word. "what did he say to you?" 

"nothing," you shake your head. "he didn't say that to me, it's something i feel. no matter who i'm with…even when i'm alone….i can't run from it." you take a breath. you hated admitting this, but jaemin's eyes were kind as they looked into yours. "even when we weren't talking, i was thinking about him…and tonight…jaemin i don't think anyone should be able to make me feel like this." 

“there's nothing wrong with being in love," he says, carefully. when you don't say a word, he continues on, as gentle as possible. "you know that no amount of attention he gives you will change the way you feel, right?" 

he was right. if you really dared to dream – to use up every last shooting star, count on all of the angel numbers — and haechan, donghyuck, gave himself to you fully like you wanted, you would still be afraid of losing him. a sick flutter beats in your chest at the passing thought of him slipping away again – that all this fight would have been for nothing. 

it was as if jaemin could read your mind. "there was a life before him," he reassures you. "there is so much more without him. you just need to start living like it, to really see it."

you had nodded, but you couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how many shows you skipped, no matter how many times you drove by his apartment or ignored his messages, it wouldn't change a thing: that even though there was a life before him, maybe it wasn't one that you wanted anymore.

—

you're cutting through the park on your way home from class, when you hear a shout of your name. you barely have time to turn before a small girl is launching herself at your legs, standing high on her tip-toes to throw her arms around your waist. 

"slow down!" 

you'd know that voice anywhere. 

haechan looks different. he's dressed in a striped sweater, glasses askew on his small nose. your heart skips a beat – he looks warm, and cozy, and comfortable. behind the frames, his eyes glow when he looks at you, an involuntary smile tugging at his lips. 

the two of you just stand there, looking into each other's eyes. every sense of yours is heightened –  the autumn air cold on your skin. the light catching everything around you. and your heart beating in your chest, speeding up with every moment you continue looking at him. you can't help it: even now you smile looking at his face. 

he raises his eyebrows. 

"what?" you blurt out, caught off-guard. 

he laughs lightly. "what are you doing here?" he asks, like he's explaining a question. 

"just…passing through," you say, slowly. "you?" 

"the…uh…kindergarten's right near here." haechan point vaguely at a point in the distance, you only look at it for a second before you focus back on him. you can't help it. he smiles again. "you're just passing through? can't you stay for awhile? we were going to get ice cream." 

his sister tugs at your sweater, excited at the sound of ice cream. you look down at her face – she has the same nose as her brother, the same bright smile. 

"just for a bit," you concede. haechan pumps his fist, playing up his excitement to make his sister laugh. it makes your heart go still and race all at the same time. 

—

"we need to talk." 

there was something wrong with haechan. 

the smell of rain and cigarettes hung in the alley behind the dingy venue. haechan sits on the steps with his head in his hands, jeno leaning on the wall opposite, jisung against the doorway behind. it's mark who stands directly in front of him, as he rubs his face with his hands, trying to calm down. mark who crouches down, mark's prying hands which make haechan lift his head to look at them. 

"what happened?" he asks, his eyes blazing. 

haechan swallows. "it's been a bad day," he tries, weakly. 

"it's been a bad month," jeno corrects. at haechan's glare, he raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and it's jisung who pipes up.

"i think people are starting to notice something's off," he says, softly. "that you play differently, sometimes."

"you mean that he messes up when she's not in the crowd," jeno says, bitterly. 

"i only messed up today," haechan mumbles. "it won't happen again." 

"what about yesterday? it's like you weren't onstage at all." jeno protests. 

haechan opens his mouth, but closes it. he knew this conversation had to happen, that things would lead to this – his fingers faltering, his mind going blank as his solo began. jeno's drums continuing relentlessly, mark's eyes on him, as he shook his head fiercely, trying to clear his mind and focus all at once. unsure of what to keep — the image of you, or the chords he'd worked so hard to get right. 

"hyuck, do you need a break?" mark asked, his words slow and gentle. "we can stop performing for awhile, cancel some of our gigs…"

"no," he breathes.  "don't." he doesn't want to lose all of it – and because he knew that if he stopped performing, he didn't know if he would ever see you again. 

and it's like jeno reads his mind. "she's not going to like you like this," jeno says, his voice impersonal. "she likes the version of you onstage, remember? it's how she first met you, it's what kept her coming back for more." 

"jeno." mark's voice is stern, but haechan looks up right past him, hurt pooling in his eyes. 

"i know," he breathes. "i know that. but i don't know if i can be that around her anymore." 

"not just around her," jisung notes. "you're not haechan anymore. it doesn't make you happy." 

"i know," he repeats, quieter this time. 

"hyuck, listen," mark sighs. "you're not doing yourself any good going onstage like this. i'm canceling the next few shows –" as haechan protests, he cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. "no. we could all use a break." 

"mark," haechan croaks. "i can't." 

"we'll still have practice," mark says, firmly. "you still have to show up for all of it. and those songs i told you to work on —" 

"you should go home," jisung adds. "take care of your sister." 

there's a pause, as they wait for jeno to chime in. 

"none of it matters if you don't figure it out with her," he says, a tone of finality ringing in his words. he straightens, broad shoulders squared, suddenly much bigger under the lights. "if you need to get over it, you have to. staying like this is hurting everyone." 

haechan's lips part, soundlessly. there's a sharp creak, as jeno stalks back into the venue, followed by mark – who pats haechan gently on the shoulder. vaguely, haechan waits for the sound of jisung's soft steps to fade, but they only shuffle closer, until the lanky boy drops down next to him. his legs stretch out into the dingy alley, as haechan hugs his knees closer to his chest, for the first time perhaps truly afraid of what he was about to hear from his friend.

"sometimes, we meet the right person at the wrong time-" jisung's voice is quiet, almost a murmur, but the words still scrape against haechan's skin, rough like sand. 

"don't say that." he bites his lip harshly, a sudden rush of anger at the pity in jisung's responding sigh. "don't fucking say that."��

"haechan, it's okay. she liked you, but then she moved on after you realised you —" 

"she didn't –" his fist clenches, restless in his lap. "she didn't move on." 

"really? not at all?" jisung's eyes are fixed on haechan's, holding his gaze. "after weeks of telling her you couldn't give her what she wanted…you think she's still waiting for you?" 

"ji-"

"why should she wait for you?" 

haechan swallows. "she shouldn't," he mumbles. "i…i need to really let her go. jeno's right." he truly means it.

jisung hesitates. he's been spending more time with you, as friends – joining on your movie nights with jaemin, or else baking together, or letting you style him for shows and concerts. and the more time he spends with you, really gets to know you, the more he can see why you and haechan seem to need each other. your patience and gentleness matched the soft way he's seen haechan take care of his sister and at times, mark. he watched the way you sometimes falter – worry overtaking your features for a split second when you stop at a red light, or your teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you stand in front of the stove – and instinctively he can imagine haechan's confidence, his natural propensity to make everything seem easy, fitting in with you and taking care of you. 

but he knew that haechan could only give you his attention – not his heart, not until he was brave enough to admit how much you meant to him. 

your resolve to stay friends with him was as flimsy as haechan's promise to let you go. jisung almost wanted to laugh at the insistence both of you had, upon lying to yourselves. 

"be honest," he says, gently. "what do you want?" when haechan doesn't answer, jisung's low voice continues on, coaxingly. "what's your best-case scenario? what do you want to happen?" 

haechan takes a deep breath. "i don't know." 

jisung tries to hide his disappointment. "do you not know, or are you not ready to say it?" 

"i don't know," haechan mumbles again, burying his face in his hands. i don't know if i deserve it. 

the two of them sit there for a long, long, time. 

–

there was something wrong with haechan.

something's different. that's what jeno had said earlier, after the show. exhausted from sleepless nights, screaming fans making him feel nauseous, haechan barely paid attention to anything during his performances except for his own guitar. he hardly looked at the crowd, didn't acknowledge their pleas of his name, as if it wasn't one he recognised at all. 

he'd started missing parties, and was barely there even if he showed — ignoring the way girls swarmed around him, wondering if he was playing a new game, one where they had to work harder to earn his attention. it was a game they never won, his eyes trained on his cup, or else on the door. 

but out of all of haechan's bad habits, this might be the worst of them – sitting in the living room past midnight, sipping down to the last dregs of his alcohol, waiting for the knock on his door. 

it was late now — so late that the hours had bled into the next day. he hadn't seen you at the concert, not at the party, and despite telling himself not to dream, not to hope, he still carried enough desperation in him to stay up again. 

he's relieved he did. 

his hands shake as he opens the door. his hands falling to his sides as he drinks in the sight of you, letting you in. 

"hi," you breathe, and you don't ask before you lean into him, soft lips brushing his plush ones. 

he's at a loss for words, his tongue numb in his mouth, limbs still heavy from how tired he'd been all day. he lets you guide him to the couch, into the cushions. lets you straddle his hips, holding your body close to his with careful arms, as he meets your kisses gently.

something's different, but haechan's not the only one who's changed. on nights like these, all you do is take and take and take. 

"i haven't seen you in a while," he murmurs. quietly, softly, the words almost getting lost between kisses. immediately after he says the words, he slots his lips with yours firmly, as if afraid of what you would say if he let the space between you and him grow. 

"i've been busy." at the crestfallen look on his face, a small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in to brush your lips with his. "why? did you miss me?" 

"i did," he says, almost timid. "i missed you."

at this, you raise your eyebrows. "you could have had anyone else." 

but he shakes his head. "i missed you," he repeats, hands mapping your skin, as if checking if you were really here, seeking the familiar way you fit into his palms, your slopes and your edges. 

"i missed you too," you say, meaningfully, letting him pull you in for another kiss. but when you push against him, body rocking into his and mouth open and wanting, the glow in your eyes tells him you're talking about something else entirely. 

his mind races. the feeling of you against him wakes him up like nothing else, the way you touch him, your smell and your taste setting fire to all his senses. there's something sweet about your lips tonight, something he wants to savor on his tongue and drown in all at once. 

he doesn't want to waste any of this, because this was the only thing you ever wanted to see him for — and that's what he tells himself as he pulls you into his body, because finally, finally, your attention is all on him, an electric heat simmering over each fibre of his being, the feeling of your body too sweet to be true.

but it's been one too many nights he's waited, a weight on his chest and a drowsiness he can't shake overcoming him like a cloyingly sweet poison. 

"i–" he's cut off by a shuddering inhale as your lips travel down to his neck, your hips grinding against him just right. "baby, i'm sorry," he tries again, his hands now gripping onto your waist, trying to steady you, even as he gives up. "i don't think i can take care of you tonight." 

you still. 

"don't go, please," he begs. "i'm sorry, it's been…it's been a long day and i…" he breaks off. the performance. the fight with the band. the fact that he'd been drinking for hours, the starless sky inky black outside his window, his fingers still stinging from plucking at guitar strings all night. "just give me a second," he stammers, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his features, before looking up at you with tired eyes. "i'll be fine in a minute, then we'll go to the bedroom, i just —" 

your hands slide down the slope of his shoulders. 

"don't go," he repeats, hands fumbling for yours as he brings them up to his lips, like a prayer. "i can take care of you, i promise. just…" 

"donghyuck," you say, softly. again you smile, cupping his face in your palms. his round cheeks, plush lips, the slight flare of his nose. he almost goes cross-eyed staring at you, as you lean in close and kiss him again – this one different from the rest, close-lipped and chaste. 

"hyuck, let me take care of you tonight, okay?" 

caught in a riptide of his own longing, he lets go. 

"you don't have to do anything," he mumbles. his hands tentatively touch your waist, the barest brush of his fingertips, before he's encircling you in his arms, easing you into his chest. slowly, tentatively, he holds you close by the weight of his arms, a large hand reassuringly patting the space right beneath your heart – clumsy, rhythmic thumps that trailed off into a lingering warmth. "i just want to hold you here, like this." 

he can feel the tension that spreads down your spine, your breath caught in your throat. your lips are parted, your eyes looking at his in an unreadable expression. 

"do you not like it?" he asks, his voice small. his hands fall from your waist, nervously tugging his sleeves down over his palms. "i…i'm just…" 

"i do," you say, slowly. and because your faces are so close, the thought is barely crossing your mind before you press your lips against his. it's supposed to be quick, reassuring, but the look on haechan's face when you pull back makes you lean in again right away. 

it was a look that was open and hurt, his hands still tangled in his lap. his eyes stayed open as you kissed him, as if he couldn't dare believe it was real — finally blinking shut when you kissed him again, his slight relief melting on your tongue. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as you clumsily got up off the couch, and as you straightened, he ducked away from your gaze, staring at his hands. 

"hyuck," you start, but he shakes his head. 

"it's fine." he still wouldn't look at you - fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "you don't have to stay, it's late." 

"hyuck, listen to me." 

"i know," he says, quickly. the slightest trace of fear in his voice. "you don't….you don't have to remind me, i know. it's too…you said we couldn't…"

" — hyuck, i wasn't going to say that." 

his fingers falter, but he stays silent. 

"i can't fall asleep properly in your lap," you explain, slowly. "let's go to bed, okay?" 

he looks up then. "really?" 

"i said i want to take care of you," you repeat, his wide eyes making you feel shy all of a sudden. "i mean it." 

he lets you take his hands, body following pliantly as he stands from the couch, as you lead him to his bedroom, his eyes focused on your intertwined hands. it's both a familiar and unfamiliar feeling — crawling into his bed with his clothes on your body, sinking into the soft sheets and letting the senses of him wash over you. the usual buzz of pleasure isn't there, and its a different tiredness that seeps through your veins, one that comes with feeling safe. 

since when did you start feeling safe with him? 

you feel his weight sink in behind you, the duvet rustling against skin as he turns. an arm curls around your waist. his head lowers into the crook of your neck – you can feel his soft hair, his pouty lips brushing your shoulders in a light kiss. 

"the band is taking a break," he mumbles. "because of me."

"hyuck?" you try to turn in his arms, but his grip only tightens on your waist. he shakes his head. "hyuck, what happened? are you okay?" 

"m'yeah, i'm okay now." he shifts. "just…i just don't know if i like playing in the band anymore." 

there's a pause. 

"are you…are you disappointed?" the thumb drawing circles on your hip stills. "say something," he whispers. "please." 

"why would i be disappointed?" you ask, quietly. placing your hand on his, you turn, facing him as he encircles you in his arms. his eyes are half-lidded, tousled hair falling over his brows, his cheek squished against the pillow into a half-pout. it's almost instinct – the way your hand goes up to his face to brush his hair out of his face, fingers absentmindedly tracing his moles. 

you can feel his lips move against your fingers. "would you still come to see me?" he wonders, softly. "if you didn't have a reason to?" 

you bite your lip. "i would want to…" you say, slowly. "but i don't know if i should. haechan, what's going on? does music not make you happy anymore?" 

his heart aches. your care for him fills his lungs, making his eyes begin to prickle with tears. 

"i don't think the haechan…donghyuck thing is good for me." 

"oh." your thumb brushes over the bridge of his nose. "hyuck…" you start. "i don't…i don't want to overstep." 

his face falls. "sorry," he says, his voice small. "i won't bother you with it…you don't have to…"

"no, i don't mean…hey, listen to me." you wait until he looks up at you through his lashes, nervously. "i think i've gotten to know haechan and donghyuck, you know? i mean…" your heart skips a beat, suddenly shy at your own honesty. but you've already let your guard down – it's no use. "of course i like haechan. haechan's the one who invited me backstage, haechan's the one who made me go on that rooftop…but…" you take a breath. 

the sleep had worn off from haechan's eyes – he was alert as he watched you now,  hanging onto your every word. 

"i've gotten to know donghyuck too, i think. i hope. donghyuck makes the best sandwiches for his baby sister, donghyuck has a bear tattoo because he looks as cute as one, donghyuck is always gentle with me even when i ask him not to be." your thumb traces the constellation of moles he has again, tracing down to his neck. you draw him closer – the way he's looking at you: like you're his entire world, like your words were the only thing keeping him breathing, filling your chest with a tender kind of ache that didn't go away. 

"donghyuck and haechan aren't that different, not really. they're still you. i like them both. i like all of you. if you woke up tomorrow and told me you were someone else, if you were suddenly becoming someone new, i think i'd still want to fall asleep next to you anyway at the end of the day. because i know you –" you breathe in, sharply. "i…i think i do. i…hope i do." 

he doesn't say anything. just leans in, and brushes his lips with yours lightly – once, twice, and finally sealing them in a kiss. he kisses you deeply, intensely – it wakes you up, that familiar feeling stirring in your belly as your hips move of their own accord. a liquid euphoria fills your veins as he pulls you into him – him on his back, you laying on his firm chest, the toned muscles on his chest grounding you, a feeling so familiar, one that you craved for a long time. you've never felt safer, in his arms. he kisses you like with every moment apart, he wonders if you're still there, and each time he sighs into your mouth it's with relief that you're still here, with him. 

"do you want to…?" he asks softly. he's breathing heavily, but he tries to calm himself down. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and it's that act – so innocent, so nervous even though you've both done it a dozen times with each other, that makes your heart beat harder in your chest. 

"it's been awhile," you murmur. 

"i know." he nods, swallowing. "it just…it hasn't felt right. don't…don't get me wrong, i want you all the time-" he practically groans with frustration. "it's just recently i just…i've been really confused. it's so stupid, but i didn't know which version of me you wanted –" 

"just you," you assure him, softly.

"let me make it up to you then." his tone is just as soft. 

you take his hands, and slide them under your shirt. gently, he tugs it off of you, sitting up slightly to take his shirt off as well before focusing back on you. you're giddy with the feeling of his touch again, nostalgia heightening every single sensation. it's not just hyuck tracing his hands over your chest – his lips finding your nipples, tongue darting out to tease them lightly. it's every single time he's touched you before – in the backseat of his car, hands moving urgently. in your bed that first time – so careful because you were extra sensitive. you have to focus to get back to the present moment, where he's watching you carefully again – noticing that you're lost in your thoughts. 

"everything okay?" he murmurs. 

you nod. "i just missed you so much," you whisper, and you can feel his desperation in the kiss that follows. "i need you now." 

"need to prep you, baby." gently, he eases you onto the bed, crawling down your body as you tug off your shorts and panties. your legs spread, needily, as you can feel him inch closer to your core, his hands coming to hold your hips. "stay still for me?" he mumbles, his eyes dazed as he watches you nod, his own head bobbing along absentmindedly, guiding you through it as he encourages you to bend your knees, baring yourself to him. 

the first flick of his tongue on your clit makes you mewl, hands coming down to grip onto his hair. 

"i know, baby," he comforts you, drawing small circles on your thigh as he leans into suckle your clit, making your hips buck up. he holds you still, patiently continuing to circle your entrance and lap at your clit. "fuck…you're getting so wet, angel." he slides in a finger, and the intrusion makes you clench around him in sensitivity, especially as he kitten-licks your clit shyly while easing in another finger. 

"need you now," you whine, voice reaching that pitch only he seems to bring out in you. his fingers pump more urgently, now curling towards the front of your walls, as he applies more force to your clit with his tongue, massaging the sensitive bud. 

"need you-" you choke out. "need you inside." 

"just give me one right now," he says, a slight plea to his voice. "please, angel. cum for me please, –"

"wanna cum with you inside," you sniffle. that gets his attention. he crawls right up your body until you're face to face, kissing you deeply, palms coming up to hold your face, careful to keep his fingers away. it's heated – your hips rolling into his as he finally loses control, hips bucking into yours until he's practically humping you as he kisses down your neck. your hands go to his waist, and he whimpers into your skin, finally tugging down his sweatpants, and you feel a familiar weight against your core. 

"condom-" he gasps, breaking away. the muscles on his body flex as he reaches for his bedside table, you can feel them move against your hands. 

"have you been fucking anyone else?" 

he blinks. "no, not since…" he breaks off. "no. and i'm clean. mark made me check." the sound of your giggle makes him smile momentarily – a goofy, lopsided grin that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

"i want to feel you-" you say, slowly. "please." 

he sucks in a breath. "this…this isn't one of those things you're trying to do to please me, right?" he looks at you, skeptically. "it doesn't make a difference to me, you know that right? i just want you to feel comfortable. and safe…" 

"i am comfortable," you assure him. "i'm on the pill. i really just want to do this with you." 

"because-" he suddenly sits back, running a nervous hand through his hair. "i'm fine with using protection, you know that. i…i love how you feel either way. i never want you to do anything you don't feel absolutely right about…"

"is this about the blowjob?" you raise your eyebrows at him, smiling when you see his eyes widen. "because i'm going to do that too, with you. i want to make you feel good." 

now it's his turn to laugh, tilting his head back. his adam's apple bobs in his throat. "you have no idea-" he murmurs, voice suddenly low and serious. "you have no idea how good you make me feel just by the way you look at me. by the way you say my name." 

"hyuck," you say, patiently. "i need you. don't make me beg." 

"i should be the one begging," he murmurs, and this time when you reach your arms out, he lowers himself right into your arms, letting you wrap your arms around him. he strokes himself a few times, eyelashes fluttering, before slowly easing into you – a soft sound escaping his lips as his eyes went unfocused. it really had been awhile – his length filling you up, stretching you out in a way that was almost painful, but that pain was quickly dulled by pleasure as his body pressed against yours. 

"fuck-" he curses, eyes screwed shut in concentration. "can i…can i please…" 

you rock your hips against him, letting him in even deeper as he bottoms out. "move-" you whimper, "please-" you barely finish your words before he's already drawing back, barely pulling out before fucking himself back in, short intense thursts feeling dizzying. his slender fingers find your clit again, applying a light pressure as the blunt tip of cock perfectly hits the spongy part of your walls, the sound obscene in the quiet room. you were so aroused, you felt that you were making a mess of his thighs – wetness making the scene seem ever more lewd, creaming around his length as he increased his speed, groaning lowly to himself. 

"cum for me, princess," he pleads, lips dipping down to mark the sensitive part of your neck. you were already close from all the teasing – and once again the familiarity of every touch and movement sends your senses into overdrive. your entire body tenses as you climax, and you can hear him hiss out another string of curses, mixed with your name and every term of endearment under the sun. 

"where do you want it?" he all but whimpers, hips still fucking into you like a reflex. 

"inside-" you mumble, ankles loosely hooking behind his back, trying to stop him from moving away. "hyuck, please come inside, fill me up please-" with a soft cry, he pushes in deep – and you can feel him cum inside you, making a mess between your thighs, the feeling so arousing that it awakens something inside you, and your hips begin to move – begging for more. 

"wait-" he pants. "give me a minute, angel-" his eyes are closed again, head lowered, as he pushes through the overstimulation, feeling his soft cock slowly begin to harden again. the sounds falling from his throat now are scratchy, hoarse whines – a sound so dirty it makes your heart beat even faster, a sense of defiled innocence you've only ever heard in his music. the angle in which he's rutting into you stimulating your clit, pushing you closer to your edge as you fuck up onto him. 

"hyuck?" you push his bangs out of his eyes, tracing your hands over his shoulders, his chest. your fingers brush past his nipples and his mouth falls open with need, an achy sound releasing from the back of his throat, his puffy lips parted obscenely. you pinch his nipples again, gently, experimentative, and you feel his body shudder as he cums again, this time going still. it's so fucking arousing, an different side to him that you've never seen, that you feel yourself climax as well, the stimulation overwhelming. 

the both of you lay there for awhile, before he seems to come to his senses — a shaky hand moving the hair out of your face. 

he looks at you, and you look at him. 

and as if he can't help himself, he kisses you again – this time so soft and gentle, almost as if it were the first time all over again. 

"you alright?" he mumbles. 

you nod. 

"let's clean up in a second," he breathes. "just…let's stay like this for awhile." 

you nod again. you don't trust your own voice. something is happening – something tastes different in the air, something in the way you're looking at each other, something in the way he's touching you now – as if you might break or bruise if he even let his fingerprints get onto your skin. in the way he's looking at you now – something urgent in his gaze. 

"are you…are you free tomorrow night?" 

"i am." you sound stronger than you feel. 

"can i take you somewhere?" 

pause. "yeah." you give him a small smile. "i'd like that."

the smile that breaks out across his face is one that you know like the back of your hand. 

–

sitting across from you now, with your plates already cleared away and all that's left is your last few sips of wine, it hits you how that this is the most normal setting you've been in with him, possibly ever. his long legs stretched out under the table over by your chair, gently placing down his wine glass as he looks at you, his expression soft. his face is lit up by candlelight, hair falling over his brows in a hopelessly endearing way. 

"you good?" he murmurs. 

you nod. things feel cozy, and comfortable – it's a feeling so foreign but at the same time so familiar, you have to keep reminding yourself that this is real. 

he bites his lip. "pretend i'm jisung," he says, impulsively. "and…and you're describing how this went to him. how…how did you find it?" 

you give him a look, but he looks so shy, so nervous to be asking you this question, that you decide to play along. 

"well, jisung-" you take a deep breath, smiling when you see him smile too. "haechan picked me up today, that was really nice-" 

"-sounds like the bare minimum," he mumbles back, head bent.

"well, yeah it kind of is. but he doesn't have the best track record." you see him wince, so you let that comment linger for awhile before continuing on. "he's been a gentleman today. he…he took me to a restaurant that he found out i've been meaning to go to for awhile now, because he asked jaemin beforehand." 

"and that's…creepy? doing too much?" 

"it was thoughtful," you mused. "even though he made the reservation for the wrong date…"

"fucker," he shakes his head. 

"...it was nice because we got to go to walk around, and there was this moment, um…" his head darts up. now you can see him break character – something piercingly vulnerable in the way his bambi-brown eyes shine. 

you swallow. "we were crossing the street…and he put his hand on my lower back, just to guide me forward, and when we got to the other side he took my hand in his and just…held it-" 

he's looking at you, slightly confused and a little nervous. 

"yeah?" 

"he…he usually only acts like that when we're alone…when there's no one around." he still looks lost, so you reach forward across the table, taking his hand in yours. as if on instinct, his hand squeezes yours. "it's sweet," you reassure him. "it was really sweet." 

he bites his lip, but nods to show that he understands.

there's silence, for a bit. you think of breaking the silence, of saying anything, when suddenly he clears his throat slightly, sitting up a little straighter.

"hey, mark-" now he's doing the same bit, and it catches you by surprise a little - making you smile. "yeah, i'm still with y/n. i...uh...i fucked up the reservation, you were right, i should've checked again..."

"i really like spending time with her," he says, slowly. "i...i can't stop staring at her - she looks so beautiful tonight. and...and i can't believe she's finally here with me, that i somehow didn't fuck this up. and um...we were in this record store just now...and i was listening to her talk about an album she liked -" a smile plays on his lips as he recalls the memory. you suddenly become aware that your heart is beating hard again, pounding in your ribs. "and she was so excited, and she kept laughing as she talked, and...and i just realised i would do anything to make her that happy, all the time. and that i want it to be me, i want to be the reason she smiles like that."

you swallow.

"haechan..."

"you don't have to say anything-" he rushes to say. "i just...i just wanted you - i mean, uh, mark - to know."

"okay." you take a deep breath. "and um, i want jisung to know that-"

"yeah?"

"i like spending time with him too," you say, faintly.

he nods, but he doesn't smile.

-

as the car pulls up to your driveway, the quiet hum of the engine is silenced – headlights turned off, only the soft glow of streetlights casting their pools of gold over haechan's face. it's so quiet, you hear the shaky breath he takes as he steadies himself. 

"i have something for you," he murmurs. you can feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans to pick something up from the backseat, the comforting smell of his perfume making your heart warm. but then you hear the crinkle of paper, his hair falling over his face as he sits back into the driver's seat, and your heart falls in a completely different way – your insides rushing with inertia, dizzy and heady – because he's holding a bouquet of dark red roses. they're wrapped sweetly, tied off with a piece of red ribbon to match the blooms, and your eyes linger on the way his fingers tremble as he holds them out to you with both hands. 

his starts to speak, but whatever he falters as he watches you stare at the soft petals, stems completely stripped of their thorns – and he bites his lower lip, breath caught in his throat. 

"too much?" he asks, softly. "i just thought…i just…mark and jisung said it would be a good idea," he stammers, lowering the bouquet as one of his hands falls to his thighs, nervously clenching his fists. "i was supposed to give them to you when i picked you up, but i got scared…you don't have to take them, i just thought…i wasn't thinking-" 

your hand closes around his hand holding the flowers. your other goes to his face, your thumb brushing his cheek as he falls silent, his eyes fixed on yours, caught in the haze of your touch. slowly, so as not to startle him, you lean in and kiss him gently. it's a beat before he kisses you back, as if he couldn't believe it, and when you pull away just slightly with a soft sound, you can see the nervousness in his eyes. and so you lean in to kiss him again – you kiss him until his lashes flutter shut, until you can feel him settle in his seat, sighing into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. you pull the flowers into your lap, his hand giving up control easily, coming up to your face to hold you in his palms. 

"hyuck." 

he pauses, leaning back – but his hands only leave your face when you hold them in your own, guiding them down to rest against the center console, your fingers intertwined. 

"i never want you to feel like i'm ashamed of being seen with you," he blurts out suddenly. 

"what?" 

"i never meant to let it get that far," he continues on, looking at his hands. "when i first met you…i wanted you to be like everyone else. i tried to do what i always do, but i just couldn't. you kept getting in my head, and i kept hurting you, and i didn't know how to stop and i just-" he exhales. "i never want to make you feel like that again." 

"hyuck, was this a date?" 

he swallows. "if you want it to be," he starts, but then he shakes his head. "the truth is, i was afraid you would say no if it was. but i really want it to be. i really really do." 

"hyuck," you take a deep breath. "whatever you're going through, you're not going to find the answer in me." 

"y/n, i love you," he says, quietly, tenderly. he says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. "i want to be a person who deserves to be with you, and love you, and i know you think you can't change me, and it isn't your responsibility to try at all…but you already have, and you can't take it back. when i'm with you i feel like i can see this version of donghyuck that i want to be all the time for the rest of my life." 

"no two people should change to be with each other –" you start, but he shakes his head. 

"we aren't a scenario," he insists. "this isn't a hypothetical. there's no should and shouldn't, because you know me –" he's pleading. "i'm not the same boy you saw onstage that first time you came to our show, and you're not that same girl on the roof," he pleads, voice breaking, tears welling up in the pretty cut of his eyes. "why is it so hard for you to believe that this version of us is meant to be together?" 

there's silence. 

"i can believe it," you start, quietly. "that's what terrifies me." 

you can see him start to lose hope. he can't force you to stay with him when you're not ready, and he doesn't want to be that person either. 

"i…" he hesitates. he wants to say so much more to you – that no one else makes him feel the way you make him feel. that he feels like he'll never love anyone again, not the way he loves you. the fact that you're it for him in a million different ways, a love he never thought he'd find. that he'll never be able to give anyone else a fair chance. 

but he can tell his love makes your shoulders heavy, makes your eyes go foggy with tears. already, you look shattered sitting in the passenger seat of his car, his love a weight on your chest that you don't know what to do with. already he's losing whatever bravery he had before – the bravery his love for you had given him. 

"sometimes-" you start, breaking off, your voice quivering. "when we're together, i feel like i could do it for the rest of my life. that you're the only one i've met to make me feel this way, that i'm the only one who knows you so deep." 

"you are," he breathes. 

"but-" your voice rises, agitated. "you hurt me. again and again. i came back when i wasn't ready, i should've given it more time, i just couldn't stay away. and then you came back into my life, and i forgave you to be with you again, and i tried to give other people a chance but i just…i just couldn't. what if this is too soon again?" 

i'll wait. the words are on the tip of his tongue, but he knows its the wrong thing to say, wrong thing to want. there's nothing romantic about waiting for someone – it's a cruel promise, one that rots each day going by in the wait for the future. 

"do you…" he takes a deep breath. "do you want to let me go?"

you nod, slowly. haechan can feel his heartbeat in his ears. 

"i'm not sorry," you whisper. "it's not right. you…i know you think you know what you want, but i need you to be sure of who you are, and who you want. i can't give you the answers." 

haechan remembers how – and it seems so far away, almost like a dream now – the night you went out with jisung, he dreamed of you. dreamed up the final version of you and him – everything good and always good, coming backstage to you, coming home to you. and some part of him had dared to hope, that despite everything, despite himself, the two of you would make it to that final version. 

but maybe the final version of you and him was this – the sound of the car door shutting as you walk up the steps to your apartment, and him crying all the way home, roses left in the front seat of the car, the ghost of your hands burning on his face.

(EPILOGUE RELEASE SOON)

@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35 @kim-seungmins-gf @delllllllsstuff @nohunlee @kingsoowolves @enhasrii @fnafgirl87 @imzerozen @toroufriteh @torothecatt

[slut4jeon]

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer (jjk)

Pairing: Officer!Jk x fem reader

Sypnosis: Tiredly calling it a night after attending your workplaces celebration New Year's Eve party. You may have or not ran through a stop sign foolishly thinking no one would have been around to witness it…oh how wrong you were

Warnings: mature (18+), smut, degradation, unprotected sex, Voyeurism, don't read this if this does not interest you!! You have been warned!

Note: I had this prepared early Jan but tumblr didn’t save my writing :(( so I gave up on it lmao. I also really wanted to write smth w tsx jungkook. The police trend w the Lana song gave me inspo for this although the actual trend isn’t in the fic.

-

You were calling it a night, exiting the noisy building that is your workplace. There was a currently a party in the building where your coworkers were celebrating the New Year's.

You were tired. The loud music and chatters annoying you. You chose a safer route tonight, sticking to sparkling cider since you were driving yourselves home tonight.

The cold air hitting your bare skin leaving goosebumps over your entire figure as youstep out into the windy area heading towardsyour parked car.

That's the consequence of wanting to look good and presentable for a celebration, you of course always look stunning. It doesn't hurt to get ready. You were currently sporting a black ysl mini along with a deep v neckline and a pair of matching black pumps. The shoes, also annoying by how sore they left your feet.

Black heels clicking onto the floor as you begin entering your car as you drove into the pitch black night. Admiring the way the twinkling city lights look, along with the lit up buildings and lampposts. You got a little too carried away when you were oblivious to the stop sign you foolishly didn't stop and passed by.

Regret lingered in your chest as you panicked over your foolish action. Perhaps you'd be fine as it is the late night and no cars were present, oh how wrong you were.

The sound of a police siren began ringing as the bright red and blue lights gaining up on the tail of your car. You pulled onto the side of the road swiftly and put your car in park. Your trembly hands gripping both hands onto the steering wheels most definitely leaving your palms and knuckles white. That's when you heard 3 knocks on your left side window.

"Shit" you muttered. Feeling a rise of mixed movement in your lower belly as you begin lowering your window. There you met the gaze of a handsome officer.

"Driving late on New Years Day? When everybody's drinking and celebrating tonight. License and registration." He spewed with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, of course." Your hand quickly traveled to your glove compartment pulling out the documents. Then, pulled your license from your clutch.

As he inspected you couldn't help but gaze at him. His raven black sleek parted hair showing off a bit of forehead. His black button up dress shirt that was tucked in the matching black jeans, and rolled up from the sleeves stopping before the elbows to show off his meaty arms that were covered in artworks of tattoos.

The stern look he holds as looking at your documents. The burrowed brow and line wrinkles in between the brows. He was attractive, godly attractive.

"Step out the vehicle for me" he said. You did as told

You couldn't help but gaze at him. He was an attractive specimen. But soon you were ripped out of your thoughts.

"Walk along that yellow line"

"Officer I'm not drunk or anything of the sor-" you were interrupted

"You were given instructions. I expect you to follow them." he bluntly said

Obeying his words you stepped foot onto the yellow line. The cold air doing you no justice as you were trembling from it.

What you weren't aware of was how he stared at your ass that was threatening to spill out of the little piece of flimsy material you call a dress.

Turning around, his gaze caught you off guard at how he stared at you as a helpless little fawn about to be hunt down by a hungry wolf.

"I'm gonna pat you down. Step right by the car for me, palms flat onto the vehicle", he demanded.

Swiftly obeying, you got into position. Beginning his pat down inspection from head to toe. His muscular hands roamed over your body. You wondered whether your goosebumps was from the cold wind or his slithering fingers tracing over your open skin.

As he got lower and lower, padding the waist and soon hips he made sure to grope onto your flesh just in case of any dangerous possessions.

You were a whimpering mess, biting into your bottom lip to suppress any noise coming out of your mouth. The attractive officer had an effect on you. Especially when passing your thighs and ankles, rising back to the top his movement slowed as he reached back to your thighs.

You let out suppressed mewls as his fingers inched towards your inner thighs. Your legs were gonna give up at any threatening moment. You questioned whether he caught onto your reaction to his touch.

His fingers were dangerous close to your soaking cunt. You were took aback at his touch you could not longer suppress the noises that urged to come pass your lips. Your heat was aching for his touch.

He took notice to your glistening folds in with your juices threatening to spill out of your wine red lace panties. The officer could no longer resist the temptation of the sweet treat in front of him.

Riding your dress a bit up his face inched closer to your cunt, nose and all. Hooking his fingers onto your panties and pushing them aside, he ate you out from behind. Your knees about to give in as he ate your pussy like a starved man. His tongue lapped over your clit playing with the cute bud left you a whiny mess.

"Please” you voiced out quietly

How cute, the officer thought. His fingers lathered your juices, leaving them coated and dripping. The sudden intrusion of his long fingers intruding into the tight ring of your hole.

With your mouth agape, your mind was left into a frenzy at how good the officer worked his fingers into your soaking cunt.

"Clenching onto my fingers, aren't you a little eager thing?", he said

You looked back to him to see his pretty pouty lips all swollen and tinted from eating you out. Your juices trailing down his chin and neck. He looked too edible.

He sensed you were near as your gummy walls clamped onto his fingers. Quickly pulling them out and robbing you of your release you mewled at the empty feeling.

You were a minx he thought. His cock hardening and imprinting his jeans. The feeling got only tighter as his fingers savored the taste of your pussy juices that coated his index and middle.

He needed more. Turning your body swiftly around the officer face to face with you connected both mouths together. His hands sneaked onto your hips and lower onto your ass making sure to grip the plumpy flesh.

You couldn't help out moan into his mouth as you both were in ecstasy. You needed more.

"Need to fuck that pussy, will you let me pretty thing?", who were you to deny him?

Eagerly nodding your head in confirmation. "Words, pretty", the officer said

"Please fuck me", you said in a desperate manner. That's all it took for him to roughly turn you around and begin grinding his hard length into your ass.

Desperate for friction you pushed out for him, like a bitch in heat. Your dress being a nuisance for him he unzipped you, freeing your bare body to be in display of his hungry eyes.

You wore no bra as the dress had padding, all you were left in was your wine lace panties. His lips traveled from your neck to breasts. Scattering marks as if he were leaving burns.

The way his teeth clamped onto your bud, sucking and pulling. Something about the way you were fully bare at his mercy as he remained fully clothed while he played with your pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.

"Officer please, fuck me!", you could no longer take it.

He smirked at your eagerness. Finding it humorously cute at how much of a cock hungry whore you are.

Your ears perked at the noise of him fumbling with his belt. His cock sprung free fully erect as he began aligning it to your entrance.

"O-oh! Fuck.., officer!", you blabbered incoherently as the intrusion of his length stretched your hole.

"-shit, such a tight little pussy", his pace greedily fastened.

You were a mess. All that was heard in the quiet night was the way he rammed his cock into your pussy. Balls slapping against your clit.

"Such a whore you are, aren't you? You like getting rammed from behind by an officer out in the outdoors?" he said as he continued abusing your cunt.

"Who would've thought a pretty thing like you was such a dirty slut, huh?" Your walls clenched by each word coming out of his filthy mouth.

"yes!yes!yes!", he fucked you deliciously good, your orgasm threatening to approach with his current pace.

You were cock drunk. Barely paying any kind of attention to the fact you were getting rammed out in public. Any person or car could pass by but your mind would only be focused on the way his dick drilled at a relentless speed.

His fingers sinked to your clit, rubbing your bud provoking your body to tremble in ecstasy of how he worked wonders on your body.

"Sir, i-it's too much!"

"You can take it ,baby. Milk my cock, make a mess.”

His words were perfectly on cue. Creaming his cock in your release. Falling limp into his arms. His release wasn't too far off yours. Head leaning into your neck as both of your panted. Silence went on for a few minutes before he helped with re-dressing you.

The officer broke the silence, "So, the names Jungkook. Could we perhaps exchange numbers, I'd like to take you out sometime soon.”

end

[howtofightwrite]

So, no surprise to anyone who's been following the blog for any period of time, but I've been dealing with some chronic illness for a while. (This is also why last week's post never made it over from Patreon. I barely had the energy to write it on Tuesday, and by Friday, I didn't have the energy to get it queued on Tumblr.)

This finally spilled over into a trip to the ER at 3am on Monday, and since then, I've been in the hospital undergoing treatment for Ulcerative Colitis. It's a particularly unpleasant disorder (you can Google it if you want the grisly details for yourself.)

I don't remember if I've disclosed it on Tumblr before, but I have diabetes. Unfortunately, the treatment for UC involves anabolic steroids to manage swelling, and steroids do not mix with diabetes. Meaning, hospitalization really is necessary (at least for a bit longer.)

This is a long way to say, there probably won't be a regular post this week. Once again, I'm sorry about that.

The good news is that I have been improving, so I'm able to do more than just stagger from the bed to bathroom, and then crawl back into bed for the rest of the day.

I'm not sure when regular posting will resume, but I'm not dead yet.

-Starke

[toonice113]

Oh My My My ⋆ ★ J.Hughes

pairings: Jack Hughes x fem!reader (nicknamed Mary)

Genre: fluff

Trope: childhood best friends to lovers

summary: You've been in love with your best friend Jack since you were seven and he was nine, growing up your moms were convinced you would end up together and your dads would joke about it non stop. As you grow up you navigate through life together and figure out that maybe your moms were right all along.

warnings?: they are both in love with each other but can't admit it. I don't like using Y/N but I had to use it once or twice, a longish read?, timeline might be a bit wonky idk?, angst for like two seconds, there’s not a full on description of reader, but it’s briefly mentioned she has freckles, reader is called Mary the whole time but it’s a nickname, mention of bugs, I skimmed through it but didn’t really edit it, specially the ending so there might be some errors sorry.

Word count: 3.2k 

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ This is my first time writing in tumblr and about Jack in general hi i apologize in advance if this sucks but i was listening to debut and this idea popped up in my mind. Also English is my second language so there's that. Enjoy!

At seven years old you realized you were in love with your best friend Jack, you have been neighbors for forever and although you were in Luke's class in school, you had always been closer to Jack. Your afternoons were spent following around the Hughes brothers while they played hockey, often finding yourself playing referee when the two older boys wouldn't let Luke touch the ball they used as a puck. Your favorite time of the year though, was summer. Your summers at the lake house were magical, in those years it was you and your parents joining the Hughes two weeks after summer started and after you'd visited your grandparents.

That specific summer your parents had announced they were having another baby and you remember all the fuss everyone made about it and how even though you wanted to be excited about it you couldn't help but feel a little scared of your parents not loving you as much anymore, no one noticed the change in your mood but Jack, he knew something was wrong when he noticed your smile wasn't as big as always, how your eyes weren't almost closed as they usually were when you smiled genuinely. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he sat next to you in the porch swing after lunch. 

“Nothing” your voice came out small and it made Jack frown, he knew you were not okay and he wasn’t about to let his best friend keep feeling down if he could help it.

“Mary…”

“What if they don’t love me anymore?” your bottom lip trembled, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

 “Who?” the boy was confused, who could she be talking about? How could anyone not love his dear Mary? She was the perfect girl, kind and pretty and nice and smart and he could go on and on about the good qualities he found in his best friend for days.

“Mom and dad, what if when the baby comes they realize they don’t want me anymore?” Jack immediately wrapped you in his small arms

“Mary it’s impossible not to love you” he said “Plus, when Luke was born mom and dad didn’t stop loving me so I’m sure your mom and dad won’t stop loving you” That afternoon you and Jack spent hours sitting in the swing holding each other not really talking much but feeling comfort in each other.

“I dare you to throw this at Jack” Luke opened his hand to show you a small green caterpillar trying to crawl out of his palm.

“He’s going to freak and hurt it” you furrowed your brows, one thing Jack did not play with was bugs. Spiders, worms, roaches, it didn’t matter, they all freaked him out the same, which sucked because Luke was in that stage where he was fascinated by the creepy crawlers as Jack had baptized them and he often dragged you with him to explore the backyard and find new ones. 

“It’ll be okay” you stared at him for a few seconds before sighing and putting your hand out, out of all three boys Luke was always the best at convincing you to do things you didn't want to do, and he found it especially funny when he got the opportunity to mess with his brother without repercussions because Jack could never be mad at you.

Approaching Jack who was on the end of the small pier watching Quinn try to fish you tapped his shoulder, turning around he smiled at you “Oh hi Ma- AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH” he screeched as you flung the caterpillar at him, the poor bug falling on the wooden deck and beginning to crawl away while in his state of panic Jack took one too many steps backwards and fell in the water behind him. Quinn bursted out laughing dropping his fishing pole on the deck and clutching his stomach, behind you Luke laughed as well and you, well you couldn’t help but stare with worry in your face until the boy came up for air flinging his arms and exclaiming angrily, you knew he was angry because he wasn’t using your nickname, “Y/N I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU UP” he, of course, never followed up with his threat though, never seriously thinking about actually hurting you, he did however tell on you to your parents who after lecturing you on how that was dangerous and both Jack and the caterpillar could’ve ended up hurt grounded you for the weekend and you missed out on the trip to the outdoor movie theater, feeling bad Jack brought you back all your favorite snacks as an apology for getting you grounded.

During the first two weeks of summer when you were ten you had spent lots of time with your older cousin, she was fourteen and had told you all about her previous school year, including the story of her first kiss leaving you curious about it. When you arrived at the lake house you couldn’t shake the story out of your head, your cousin had said the boy she had kissed was one she really liked and that it had created butterflies in her stomach. On your third night there, You and Jack were outside after dinner, sitting in the tree house his dad had built for the kids to hang out in, he was wrapping a stick while you flipped through the pages of a magazine “Hey Jack” he looked up from his stick to you “Truth or dare?” you were hoping he chose dare so you could implement the plan you had been thinking about since the day you’d arrived. You wanted to see if the butterflies your cousin had talked about were true.

“Dare” bingo! 

“I dare you to kiss me” his eyes widened and you stared as he thought about it for a minute debating whether having his first kiss with his best friend was a good idea or not, then your eyes widened as he put his stick down and began walking the short distance to you, and as he was about to kiss you you panicked and ran away leaving poor Jack standing there staring at your figure disappear inside the house feeling embarrassment and defeat, that night Jack realized he might have liked you a little more than as just a friend.

As you grew up things changed, new friends came around, boyfriends and girlfriends, busy schedules creating a distance but never separating you two completely, even with your part time job at the froyo shop and Jack’s hockey you still found time for movie nights, early breakfasts before school, rushed meet ups during breaks and of course, summers at the lake house. 2019 was a specially weird year for you all, Jack had been busy with the US National development team and your parents had decided to buy a new house all the way across town, forcing you and your little sister to move schools. The move had meant that you could no longer just walk to the Hughes house and therefore you hadn’t seen the two younger brothers in a couple weeks, Quinn having already moved to Canada. But as summer approached you got through the two weeks of visiting your grandparents before getting ready for the big day, Jack’s draft was coming up and while your parents and sister were staying behind and spending the summer with your grandparents, you were meeting up with the Hughes in Vancouver. 

Quinn’s apartment was buzzing with emotions, Ellen lecturing the boys about being in their best behavior during the ceremony with Jim by her side nodding but not saying anything, the grandparents looked amused at it while the boys looked bored. Jack lit up when you arrived, jumping up and excusing you both with the excuse that he needed your opinion on his suit, pulling you into Quinn’s guest room as you managed to wave hello to everyone before he slammed the door behind you. “Thank god you’re here” He whispered into your hair as he held you close.

“Nervous?” You ask him basking on the warmth he radiated and the hug you had been waiting for for over a month now.

“No, just tired. Mom’s been going crazy over the whole thing” He pulled away a little, still keeping his hands on your waist but far enough so he could talk to you face to face, that’s when he realized you had changed in the month and weeks he hadn’t seen you, your hair was a bit longer, you were tanner and there were new freckles adorning your face probably from spending your days in the sun while at your grandparents and you had lost some more weight in your face so your cheekbones sat taller in your face, your lips were plumper too and for a second was ready to risk it all just for a kiss, but he quickly came back to earth and pulled you back for another hug pulling you towards the bed where you two laid cuddled up to each other as you told him all about your time apart. 

As he updated you on what life had been for him recently you stared at him and if he wasn't so into the story he was telling you were sure he would’ve noticed the loving glance you were giving him. He hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you’d seen him and you couldn’t help but get lost in his eyes that twinkled under the soft glow of sunshine coming from the curtain that wasn’t closed all the way. The door opening interrupted your thoughts, Luke and Quinn hurrying in and closing the door behind them, Luke threw himself on the bed while Quinn sat down by their feet “I need tomorrow to be over already” Luke sighed dramatically grabbing your hand and putting it in his head so you could run your fingers through his curls.

“Do you think she’ll be this stressed for your draft or will she have it down by then?” Quinn chuckled at his younger brother’s theatrics.

“God I hope she has it down or I might not show up until I absolutely have to” Luke said, you laughed at him as Jack tried to kick him off of you both but it only resulted in Luke slotting between you two.

“Let her be excited, two of her babies will be playing in the NHL next season” You tell the boys “Also I really don’t think she’ll be any different for your draft moosey, if anything she might be worse than right now, you are her youngest after all” Luke groaned pushing you away

The next day went by in a blur and suddenly you were at the Rogers Arena sitting between Jack and Luke after switching places a few times, you were originally supposed to sit besides their grandma but then she asked you to switch places because of the air blaring on her or something like that so you’d moved to sit on her original seat next to Quinn but then Luke started complaining about Quinn manspreading and not having any space which resulted in you and Quinn switching places and finally five minutes before the ceremony started you noticed Jack become a little restless for the first time all day after showing confident to everyone and with a singular look, Luke and you knew you had to switch places. 

That is how you found yourself sitting next to Jack, his hand holding onto yours strongly, the only sign he had given anyone that day of having any nerves. When the Devils called his name as first pick of the draft you all got up celebrating and he hugged you first “I’m so proud of you” you whispered in his ear before moving to the side so he could hug his brothers and then the rest of his family. It goes without saying that your phone was filled with so many pictures and videos of him on the stage the next morning that it kept telling you you were out of space. 

When you finally arrived at the lake house for summer after your stay in Vancouver your parents had a whole celebratory party planned out, a bunch of Jack’s friends joining you for it, and after dinner the parents decided to leave and so the house was filled with loud music and rowdy teenagers, you not being a big fan of small crowded areas retrieved to the upstairs balcony after making your rounds, staring down at all the people dancing and thinking about how this past year you had barely seen Jack and after this summer you would see him even less, the realization hitting you like a train, he was moving to New Jersey in the fall and you were staying behind for at least two more years, there was no way your friendship was ever going to be the way it had been ever again and you didn’t know if you were ready for it. 

“Now what are you doing here all alone?” The sound of the sliding door and a voice stopped you from thinking about it too much.

Turning slightly you could see Quinn walk towards you “Just not in the mood for a party I’m quite tired” but Quinn had known you your whole life, and even though you had never appeared as closed to him as you were with the two younger brothers he had always taken the role as a big brother seriously, that included being your big brother too so he knew something was wrong, but he also knew when to push and when to wait, so he just sat next to you and sipped on his beer bottle waiting for you to say something or decide you were okay to return to the party, he would stay with you all night if he had to “I’m so happy for him, his dreams are coming true you know? But I can’t help but feel sad too” you finally spoke after a few minutes of silence, still looking at the party below “I mean this is the beginning of something great so why does it feel like it's also the end of us?” 

Quinn watched as your eyes welled with tears, quickly setting his beer down and moving closer to hold you “Why do you think this is the end?” he wouldn’t admit it because he didn’t like to meddle, but he agreed with their dad’s idea that Jack and you would end up married one day, eh wasn’t blind, he’d seen the way you had his brother wrapped around your finger since you were six and eight, and even though you had never told him anything about your feelings and you were usually really good at hiding them, he’d seen the way you looked at Jack when you thought nobody was looking.

“We’ve already fallen apart this year and I only moved twenty minutes away I can’t imagine what it will be like once he is in New Jersey” You spoke through tears and sniffles, your thoughts too loud for you to notice the sliding door opening again, Quinn noticed though, turning softly as to not disrupt you in his arms, his brother, the one you were crying for was standing there, a heartbroken look on his face, Quinn encouraged him to come closer and talk to you with his eyes.

“Mary I don’t think I could go too long without you” Jack muttered walking towards you, startling you and making you separate from Quinn who squeezed your arm lightly before going back to the party. You stood there paralyzed feeling embarrassed from Jack finding out you were feeling this way, not wanting to make it seem like you were making it about you when it was supposed to be one of the happiest nights for him. “I’m sorry you felt like we were drifting apart I guess I was too in my head about the draft that I forgot about what was really important” 

By now he already had you in his arms, your head resting on his shoulder as you held onto him tightly, as if you were scared he would disappear “You don’t have to apologize this, I- um it’s nothing I’m just overreacting I don’t know hormones or something” you stuttered out the sentence. 

“But I mean it Mary” he spoke softly “I should’ve never been too busy to call you back or drive to your house to see you”

“You were busy with hockey Jack I understand that” you said looking up at him “It was important”

“And you are important too, god Mary you’ve been the most important person in my life for ten years, who else could I love so much as they were throwing a slimy little worm at me? I even apologized for getting you grounded after you did that” he chuckled at the memory making you smile “And who else could get away with leaving me hanging at a truth or dare kiss? Do you have any idea how much Quinn made fun of me after he found out about it?” This time it was you laughing “All those 2AM snack trips, and sneaking back into the house without anyone noticing, which mom knows about by the way, apparently we are not as sneaky as we thought we were, are my favorite part of summer, because it's just us, and I get to see you, the real you, not you who feel like you have to constantly check up on Luke or sit up straight the whole time so your mom doesn’t call you out on your posture, or like you have to help Quinn with everything because none of us do and you don’t want him to be all stressed out, those nights of just you and me watching mamma mia in our pajamas, you singing to every single song and trying to get me to dance with you, I wouldn’t change it for the world, you are my best friend yeah but I think somewhere along the way I got lost in the road and ended up falling in love with you” His confession leaves you speechless, wondering if it is real, if your best friend who you have been in love with for ten years is really standing in front of you telling you he is also in loe with you, and its only when you feel his hand touch your face to pull some strand of hair out of it that you realize it is all very real, so you reach up and pull him by his neck connecting your lips in a kiss you had been waiting for for too long.

Pulling away after a minute, both of you with smiley faces you speak “It was a cute little caterpillar I threw at you, I regretted not kissing you as soon as I ran out of the tree house and for the record I’ve been in love with you since I was seven after you sat on the porch swing with me for hours when I thought my parents wouldn’t love me anymore” Jack chuckles at your remarks and pulls you back in for another kiss.

[capricores]

if you have strong mutable (gemini, sagittarius, pisces, virgo) placements then you NEED to write things down if you don't already. all those thoughts that constantly swirl in your head: the frequent tasks, goals, feelings, aspirations, opinions, etc - WRITE THEM DOWN. this is not only therapeutic & stress-relieving for you but almost necessary, or you're going to burn out and overload your own mind constantly.

when you bottle, or when you let plans, goals, dreams, to-do lists, projects, etc live solely in your head - you'll notice you can't sleep as well, it's harder to rest, your memory gets more foggy than usual, you feel burnt out and unable to connect, etc. specifically:

write down your feelings. this will be your ultimate (free) therapy. start to journal, write a diary. make a private twitter/tumblr where you spill your feelings, frustrations, thoughts. you will feel an immense sense of relief by writing or typing your feelings out - even if no one is reading it but you. mutable moons especially. our feelings tend to change rapidly, but it doesn't make them less valid. don't bottle out of the fear your feelings will change/you'll just "get over it"!! write it down and let it out!!

write! to-do! lists!!!!! these don't have to be for important things. you want to learn digital art? you want to study coding? you want to learn french? you want to re-decorate? you probably have a billion things you want to do, and then you get overwhelmed by the options, and do nothing. write down all the things you want to do. make a to-do list for these things. get them out of your head and somewhere permanent/physical. looking at the options in front of you will feel much easier.

make excel project trackers (you can even make these for to-do list items/goals/etc)! mutable placements have a tendency to start a lot of projects or tasks, and never finish any of them. make a simple tracker for all the projects you start. you won't forget what you're working on, and you'll be less overwhelmed trying to remember what you have going on (example of the one i always use pictured below)

talking out your thoughts and feelings is also very cathartic. make fake (or real, i support u!) youtube vlogs where you spill your feelings and talk about your plans, your day, what you have to do, etc. talk to someone you love and trust, vent to them about how things are; or about what you're getting up to. i find writing has an edge, because you can go back to it for reference (mutables tend to forget things easily) - but as long as you're getting the swirl of your mind somewhere outside of your head, you'll feel so, so much less stressed.

mutable dominants tend to constantly live in go-mode, we're restless and always doing something. we feel uncomfortable and sometimes guilty about staying still. our minds don't ever shut off. it's very important for mutable placements to learn how to rest, be present in the moment, and learn grounding. this can be done in many ways, but i've found personally that writing works best for me. other helpful practices can be: talk therapy, acceptance theory, yoga, meditation, hiking, camping, etc.

i also want to remind mutable signs: we change a lot. we have a lot of ideas. there's so much we want to do. we often feel like we have no path, no big goal; we can struggle with purpose as we don't often aspire for permanent things or "one big goal". this is NOT bad. there is nothing wrong with changing your feelings, your mind, your goals, your life path. you CAN do all the things you want to do! you have your entire life ahead of you! yes, you can learn all those languages. yes, you can have three different careers in your life. yes yes yes! don't listen to negativity from others. don't beat yourself up for not having one big goal like some people around you might. cherish and embrace all the things you want to achieve and complete (both big and small). learn to follow-through with and finish the things that matter to you (writing things down will really help with this, make action plans/steps - break everything down into smaller pieces). take the time to slow down and enjoy the moments as they come. you got this!

[vaporclan]

Hi Tumblr. Sorry for being MIA more often recently.

TW: Talking about unhygienic and gross shit

So you've seen me talk about the state of my room before. With your guys's help when I opened commissions a few months ago I was able to replace some of the nasty furniture last time, but I couldn't fix the actual room. It's still a state.

It's gotten entirely out of my control. There's trash bags everywhere, mold, some of the bags that have used cat litter in it have ripped and spilled everywhere, mold mites, fruit flies, moldy food everywhere, the carpet is stained with all sorts, etc

I just want a complete fresh start for 2025. It's clear I cannot clean this by myself. I've had a new bed sitting downstairs for a year now that I can't set up cause my room is so bad.

It's clear I'm gonna Have to hire a professional to do it, but it's gonna cost so much money. I'm disabled - I get paid 1k a month in disability benefits, most of which goes to rent, groceries and cat supplies, so I legit just can't afford to pay a professional.

It's gotten this bad because I am practically bedridden - I have no energy to do anything ever and spend 24 hours a day in bed. Even my bed is full of garbage and moldly food, and even my mattress topper is moldy. I haven't showered in forever cause I don't see a point.

My hair is matted, I need a haircut. I need new clothes cause they're all either dirty or lost.

I've tried over and over again for a year now to get my room under control, but I NEED professional help. My brother / carer has tried helping me but he also struggled, cause he has similar energy issues as well as a weak stomach.

I've contacted multiple deep cleaners, and I haven't been given an estimate yet, so I can't quite say how much it'll be but it'll definitely be in the hundreds.

I genuinely don't think I can do commissions again. I'm sorry. I already have burnout from the comic. I don’t know what to do. (Don't worry, I'll finish the commissions I do have soon, but I think I'm closing them for a good while after.)

I have my Patreon, where I'm sketching as much of the story as possible (I'm 106 pages ahead) + the discord where I post script snippets and concept art and talk about future plans.

I also have a PayPal, if you wish to help - but don't feel obligated.

Sorry for this. I'm struggling recently. It was my birthday at the start of this month, and I told myself I'd get my room sorted for my birthday. I tried to do it myself, but after a couple hours I realized it was fruitless. I lost the energy entirely and just got back in bed. I'm so tired of living like this.

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +4.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), fluff, angst, SA (touching, grabbing), mentions of dv & abuse, anxiety, trauma, physical fighting

A/N: I literally haven't written in years. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

“Girl, what the fuck do you mean you haven't called this man back?” my best friend Monica snapped at me. “I just needed to let one off. I was horny and tired of going on pointless ass dates,” I said groaning back at her.

We were walking into a party her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Jordan, was hosting. There were cars everywhere, and people littered the front lawn of the small house. The music was blasting from the backyard, and the noise consumed the quaint neighborhood.

A cloud of smoke spilled from the rear of the house and engulfed the porch and lawn like a dense fog. The combined thickness of the smoke from the barbecue grill and the heat from the ocean of bodies added to the intensity of the sweltering Southern heat. I was beginning to regret my decision to wear all black.

“You need yo’ ass beat. How the fuck do you let a man dick you down like that and let him get away?” Monica asked cutting across the lawn to enter through the side gate. “I just didn't want anything else,” I said shrugging my shoulders and following her closely. She opened the gate so that we could both walk in. “Look, Monnie. I’m not ready to even entertain a man and his bullshit,” I continued as I closed the gate behind us. “You could have at least kept him as a fuck buddy, ‘Vana, like seriously. Come on. Here we are living in a world where women die never even coming close to experiencing what you did, and you just let him disappear. Are you fuckin' crazy, girl?” she turned to grab my hand.

Monica was trying her hardest to pull us through the swarm of people. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind me. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Over by the gate. Jordan's waitin’ with his friends,” she said. I used one of my hands to hold her body flush with mine while the other gently pushed people out of the way.

Once we made it to the other side of the backyard, Monnie spotted Jordan. She pulled herself from my grasp and went to talk to him. He looked down at her and smirked. He was crossfaded. I knew what this meant for me. I would have to hear them go at it like animals all night or get a hotel room. Now, I will NEVER be jealous of my girl getting hers. Don't get me wrong. It's just that Monnie sounds like a “palm-colored🖐🏻” pornstar when she moans, and I only watch Ebony for a reason.

“Ah, shit,” I said palming my face. “What?” Monnie asked with her eyes still locked on Jordan. “I know what that face means. Jordan finna turn you every which way but loose!” I laughed out loud. Monnie looked at me and burst into laughter. Jordan pulled his cup to his lips and peeked over the rim at me. “As long as Monnie baby knows,” he said peering back at her. “Oouu, shit. Don't start with me, J!” Monnie said pulling him by his collar. They were chest to chest now.

“Just go in the damn house already!” I said laughing at the two of them. They were like two feral dogs in heat. They couldn't look at each other without lust taking over. This is an everyday thing for them. “Fuck it. Bye. See ya’!” Monnie said grabbing Jordan and pulling him towards the house.

“Nasty dogs,” I said laughing to myself. I stood with my back to the fence and began scanning the party. I couldn't find anyone I knew. I saw a guy who looked slightly familiar, and I assumed he was one of Jordan's friends. I looked him over trying to see if that was the connection. He was standing in a smaller crowd of men.

His head turned slowly, and his eyes caught mine. They were deep-set and a warm dark brown. He turned his body to face me. He was tall and dark-skinned. This man's skin was ebony in every facet of the word — smooth and shiny. He bit his lip and winked at me while running his hands across his low-cut Caesar.

I smiled back at him and waved shyly. He nodded back towards me. He leaned in closer to the group of men saying something that caused them to turn around. I instantly became a little uncomfortable and self-conscious. I hated male attention when they were in groups. It made me feel objectified.

He began to walk towards me with a slow and deliberate gait. His stride was graceful yet steady. His large frame cast a large imposing shadow across the ground. His lean upper body was struggling to hide beneath the thin fabric of his white T-shirt. He appears to be at least 6 feet tall. I've never had a type, but this man was doing something to me.

I pushed my back from the tall wooden fence. “How you doin’?” he said leaning over me. His hands were in his pockets. He pulled his hands out slowly and grabbed mine. “Fine, and you?” I asked looking up at him. “Better,” he said licking his lips. They were plump and pink. My eyes followed the movement of his tongue across his lips. “That's cute, love. I kinda feel like I know you from somewhere,” I said looking away from him. “Nah, I'd remember you fa’ sure,” he said smiling.

He leaned in closer to my ear. His breath was warm against my skin. “You right about that,” I said cocking my head to the side. He leaned up to look me directly in the eyes. “You a cocky sumthin’, ain't you?” he said laughing. “I like that shit,” he continued while smiling at me. “Cocky? Me?! Never, baby. I'm just a professional shit-talker. That's all,” I said laughing into his chest. “A professional shit talker? So, you enjoy talking shit, huh? What comes with that?” he asked shifting his weight to gently push me back against the fence.

I paused for a second. I pulled my bottom lip in, biting it lightly. “Fuck around and find out,” I said barely above a whisper. I made sure I was looking him directly in his eyes before I spoke. “Oouu, you… Lord, woman!” he laughed out loud. “See. I already got you calling for the Lord, and I ain't even touched you yet,” I giggled into my hand. He used his hand to play with the frizzy hair at the nape of my neck. I chose to wear my hair in a wash-and-go, but it was being destroyed by the humidity.

“So, what would happen if you touched me?” he asked tracing small circles on my scalp. “It depends. You wanna hear God, or do you wanna see him? I can do both if I like you,” I said placing my hand on his bicep. “Damn! That's how you comin’?” he asked grunting. “And I thought I was doing sumthin' with the stars and the moon,” he said placing his hand on my hip. “Maybe you just need a little encouragement,” I said rubbing up and down his arm. “Hmm, encouragement?” he questioned while raising a single eyebrow. “You know… just a little talking to get you through it,” I said resting my hand on his shoulder.

“Talk me through it then,” he replied as he gestured for me to continue. His hands were now on both sides of my hips. “We're in public. You sure you can handle that,” he said tilting his head again. I leaned in as close as I could. “Before I continue, do you like Big Daddy or Good Boy? I need to know for my pleasure,” I asked snaking my hand to the side of his neck. I used my thumb to stroke his jawline. “What's the difference?” he asked. “Well, if I'm taking care of business, you're a good boy. However, if you're taking care of business, it's Big Daddy. Understand?” I asked gripping the side of his neck firmly. “Mmmm… shit. I think I do,” he grumbled dropping his head. “No, baby. It's either you do, or you don't. I don't like indecisiveness,” I said angling his head back up so that his eyes met mine.

“What's your name, mama?” he asked. “Havana, but you can call me “Big Mama”,” I said snickering into my hand. “I’m Xavier, so you're Big Mama, huh?” he asked sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. His eyes were narrowing in on my lips. “That's only if you're nasty,” I laughed again. “Hmm… How nasty we talking?” he asked snaking his hands around my hips. “How nasty can you get, love?” I asked locking in.

He looked up at me like he was stunned by that question. “Ok. I don't usually repeat myself, but…” I said while moving gently from his grasp. “I'll be as nasty as you need me to be. How nasty can you get?” he asked. “Well, love. It depends on your performance. Energy is matched around here,” I said watching his eyes linger on me again.

*15 minutes later

Xavier and I had been talking the entire time. He seemed like a decent guy, but I didn't want to make the same mistake twice. I honestly feel like with Terry it was a “right place, right time” situation. That's never been my forte. I was usually much more careful and selective when it came to choosing sexual partners. We both share our STD status and the current number of active sexual partners. Moreover, the condom situation was even more of a fuck up for me. I normally supply them myself, so that men can't say shit about not having one. So, when I dropped the ball as badly as I did with Terry, it shook me a little. How could I have been that fucking careless?

“Uh oh, don't let her get you in trouble,” Jordan said while approaching. “Nigga, I'm not worried about that. My shit straight. What that got to do with anything?” Xavier said turning to dap up Jordan. “Where's Monnie?” I asked Jordan. “Inside. She’ll be out in a minute,” he said giggling and shrugging his shoulders. “Ok,” I said looking back at Xavier because his response to J sounded like a red flag. What was he not worried about? What shit was “straight”? Then, why did Jordan shrug like he was saying “whatever”? Was this man hiding something?

I pulled out my phone and texted Monnie. I asked her if she knew anything about Xavier. She asked why immediately. I texted her and told her we had been outside talking this whole time. The text she sent said it all.

Monnie: RUN BITCH! GET IN THE HOUSE NOW!

I immediately thought of a lie I could quickly tell Xavier. I needed to get to Monnie now! “Shit, Monnie needs me!” I said placing my phone back into my purse. “You good?” he asked leaning in and grabbing my chin so that I could face him. “Yeah, baby. Mama's fine. Be safe alright?!” I said loudly as I walked away. “What about your number?” he called out after me. “If we see each other again, I say it was meant to be,” I said winking at him.

I quickly pushed my way towards the rear entrance of the house. The sliding glass door was slightly ajar so that people could go in and out. I entered the door and was met with a cloud of weed smoke. Fuck, I hated that smell. I walked through the house and searched for Monnie. I sent her a text asking where she was.

Monnie: upstairs bedroom

I walked through the crowded living room and crossed the space to get the stairs. I was at the bottom when I felt hands grab my waist from behind. “Where you going, fine ass?” said a man's voice from behind me. “Please, don't do that,” I said removing his hands. I continued up the stairs without looking back. “Fat bitch!” he yelled at me from below. I turned around to see who was speaking. All I could say was, “Ugh!”

I turned back around to continue up the stairs. I located the door to the room where Monnie should be. I lightly knocked on the door before entering. “Fuck are you knocking for? Bring yo’ ass in here!” Monnie yelled through the door. “First of all, fuck you. Now, spill it. Tea time, hoe!” I said laughing as I entered the room.

Monnie was sitting on the bed waiting. I closed the door and locked it. I sat on the bed beside her. I turned my body so that I was facing her. “Girl, he ain't shit. Please, tell me you didn't give him your number?” she asked shaking her head. “Fuck no! Why?” I asked removing my crossbody and placing it on the bed beside me. “Well, for starters, this nigga has a basketball team of kids. He has 4 baby mamas, and there may be a fifth!” Monnie said chuckling. “Damn, 4 baby mamas, and how many kids?” I asked leaning over to rest my head on my palms under my chin. “I think 8. We don't know a for sure number,” she said casually. “The fuck do you mean by that. Do y'all not know a for sure number, or does he not know a for sure number?” I asked eagerly. “He doesn't know himself. He be fuckin' anything that let him. That's why his ass was burnin’ last month,” Monnie said laughing and slapping my shoulder.

That's when it hit me. If I had met Xavier last month instead of Terry, I would be burnin', too. “Burnin' from what?” I asked Monnie. I was serious now. “I think Chlamydia and Gonorrhea. He apparently got it from one of his baby mamas. The only reason we found out is because he gave it to his “situation”, and she came to his house while we were there and cussed his ass out. Girl! She let him have it,” Monnie said hollering at this point. “That's so foul, bro. We were literally outside talking hot shit and getting spicy—,” I said. “Oh, he hot shit alright?” she laughed.

*2 hours later

I had left the party around midnight. As I was driving home, I remembered I needed eggs and almond milk for tomorrow. I knew there was only one store still open this late at night. I honestly didn't feel like getting out again, so I decided against it.

As I was driving, I started to see construction signs. They all read different things— “detour ahead”, “road work ahead”, and “road closed to thru traffic”. The detour sign pointed to the right. That would throw off my entire drive because that meant I couldn't use the nearest entrance to get on the highway with the next one being miles out.

I grew annoyed but turned anyway. What choice did I have? The road was dark and empty. It was way too late at night to be forced to take detours. I was growing uncomfortable with the fact that there were no streetlights, and the road narrowed towards the end before a sharp blind curve. People weren't as careful coming around. Most hugged the middle taking up both lanes in the process.

As I approached, I slowed down almost to a stop. I slowly rolled through the corner hugging my side of the bend. Once I could see straight ahead, I noticed a truck on the side of the road. The hazards were on, but I didn't see anyone inside. As I got closer, my headlights beamed against the outline of a figure at the side of the truck near the rear tire. I could tell it was a man by the way his physique looked leaning against the truck's bed.

Getting closer, I began to watch him out of curiosity. His body leaned up, and he seemed to be turning around to look in my direction. He used his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of my headlights. That's when I saw it. The tattoo on the forearm looked like—— Terry's.

No, it couldn't be. There's no way a random detour put us in the same place at the same time again. The first time we met I wasn’t supposed to be at the store that day. I accidentally dropped all of the eggs I had and cracked them. I had a cake order to make, so I didn't have a choice but to go get more. Now, this.

I rolled down the passenger side window a little as I got closer. I cleared my throat while laughing to myself. I slowed to a stop as I got to the rear of the truck. He walked towards the car, but he didn't approach fully. “Need a ride, handsome. Don't want you out here stranded,” I said in the most country accent I could. The voice I used gave off backwoods barbie. “Nah, I'm good. Go on home,” he said trying to look through the crack of the window.

I could tell that the absence of streetlights and dark tints were working against him. He squinted a little more. “Oh, come on. I can't leave you out here with all these critters and weirdos. Might take advantage of ya’, hun,” I said trying not to laugh. “Your ol’ man let you pick up strangers this late at night?” he asked. I could sense he was becoming inquisitive. He was searching for any possible signs of this being a setup.

I rolled down the window all the way while hollering with laughter. “Who said we're strangers?” I asked him. His face displayed annoyance and relief. I saw his shoulders drop and his stance loosen. He approached the car fully leaning into the window. “Real funny,” he said smirking. “You looked scared for a second. I'm sorry. I realized it was you as I was coming up,” I replied with a smile.

“What you doin’ out so late, Mama?” he asked tilting his head. I scoffed and waited. He looked at me with a cold stare. He was waiting for an answer. I shrugged my shoulders casually. “Party with some friends,” I said hoping that he would stop staring at me so intensely. “Party, huh? I thought you didn't like parties,” he muttered under his breath. “I heard you, asshole. Yeah, a party. That's what I said, ain't it?” I said gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Watch that mouth,” he grunted lowly. His voice vibrated across the small space of the car. “Or what?” I asked looking over at him.

He stood up and pushed away from the car. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his body weight to one side. “I would say I'd put somethin’ in it, but me and you both know you'd like that, ‘Vana. Wouldn't you?” he shot back.

Touché, Terry. Touché.

“Coming or not?” I asked and gestured towards the passenger seat. He shook his head yes and walked towards the driver's side of his truck. He opened the door and grabbed his keys and a backpack. He walked back to my car to get into the passenger side. He opened the backseat first to place his backpack in. I could see the confidence in his step.

My eyes started to wander a bit. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and dark-wash blue jeans. Slightly wet from sweat, his shirt clung to the muscles underneath. Every detail is etched into my memory. The deep cut of his abs. The veins in his biceps that popped out when he made even the slightest movements. The slight jiggle in his pecs.

Not this again. Get it together, Havana.

I turned to look away as he entered the car. Closing the door, he sank into the seat and sighed. “I’ve been out there for a while. Was about to walk back towards Miller to get closer to my place,” he said. I could feel his eyes on me. “Where were you going?” I asked eyes locked forward. “Randall's,” he said leaning over so that his arm was overtaking the center console. “Really?!” I asked loudly. “You'll live. Where you want me to put my hands? In my lap?” he asked his voice surging through the small space. “Or would you rather I put them in yours?” he chuckled. “Whatever!” I said pushing his chest and rolling my eyes. I put the car into gear and began to drive.

“Do you mind if I stop at Dixie? I needed to pick up some stuff for tomorrow,” I asked looking at him. “Nah. I mean it is where we first met,” he said smiling back at me. I rolled my eyes and continued to drive.

*15 minutes later

We walked through the store side-by-side. He was right on my ass. This man had no regard for personal space. “Do you have to be so close?” I asked pushing him away. “Oh, now you got a problem with it?!” he laughed throwing his head back. “Fuck you, Terry,” I said in a whisper low enough for only him to hear. “You sure you want that? You sure you can take it this time?” he questioned while getting closer to me. “You got jokes, huh? Remember this, sir. You may beat me when I'm on my back, but I can make you cry when I'm on my knees,” I said turning away from him. I heard him grunt and scoff. I peeked over my shoulder to see him smiling at me.

He walked away in the opposite direction. That was fine with me. I needed a small breather. Everything about Terry had me on edge, and the flashbacks from that night weren't helping.

I walked to the rear of the store where the dairy and produce were. I walked towards the coolers that contained the eggs. I picked up an 18-count for now and checked the crate for broken eggs. Finding none, I placed the eggs securely under my arm. I moved to the fridges right beside them to look for almond milk— unsweetened and vanilla. They were out. I moved to the next fridge and spotted regular unsweetened almond milk. Fine, that would have to do.

I opened the door to the fridge. A cold, crisp air whipped across my face. The milk rested on the bottom shelf. I leaned over to get it. As soon as I reached for the milk, I felt hands on my hips. “Hands off, Terry,” I said through gritted teeth. “Who's Terry?” asked a familiar voice. “Xavier!” I yelled almost dropping the eggs.

I whipped around and removed his hands from my hips. “Here we are again. You remember what you said? I think you owe me somethin’,” he said moving closer to me. “That was before I knew you lied to me,” I said pushing him back gently. I wanted to be assertive but not piss him off. As he got closer again, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It was much stronger than it was before.

“The fuck did Monnie stupid ass tell you?” he yelled smacking his lips. “Look. She didn't say anything, love. Just…,” I said trying to push him away from me. His hands came up to my hips again. He gripped the tighter than the first time. “Hey, let me go!” I yelled. “Oh, come on. You one teasin’ ass bitch,” he yelled again slapping the eggs from under my arms. They hit the ground with a thud. The crate cracked open and egg yolks shot up all over the bottom of my skirt and all over my feet.

I tried to move again and sidestep away from his grasp but to no avail. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back towards him. My body collided with his. He grabbed my arms and slammed me up against the cold glass of the fridge. My body bounced off from the impact.

His hand reached up as if he were going to hit me. I flinched in fear and closed my eyes. It's as if I stopped breathing while waiting for the hit to land. It never did. I opened my eyes to see Terry grabbing Xavier by his collar. They were close in height but Xavier appeared slightly bigger.

Terry pushed Xavier away from me. Terry threw the first punch immediately after. His hand collided precisely with Xavier's jaw. X’s head snapped sideways and his body flew backward. Terry watched him as he stumbled. “Don't you ever touch her again!” Terry growled closing in on Xavier as if he was going to hit him again. Xavier cowered and retreated without a word.

Terry turns back to look at me. His scowl sent shivers down my spine. “I didn't…,” I said struggling to breathe. “Hey, you okay? Mama, look at me!” Terry said grabbing the sides of my face. He angled my head so that I was looking up at him. I was trying not to cry, but I couldn't hold back the tears. “I'm sorry I froze,” I said gasping for air. “Ay, c’mere. Don't do that? Havana, breathe!” he said pulling me into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me hugging me tightly. I wasn't aware of anything around me at the moment.

My thoughts were all over the place. My mind was racing, and I couldn't form a complete thought. “Let’s go,” Terry said holding my hand. He placed the other on my lower back and guided me out of the store. “Keys,” he said into my ear while leaning over me from behind. “Huh?” I said being pulled from my daze. “I need your keys, baby girl,” he said placing his hands on my shoulder.

I reached into my purse and handed Terry my keys. “I know it's late, but I don't want you driving home like this. Do you feel comfortable going with me until you feel better?” Terry said walking around me so that he was now looking down at me. He placed his hands gently on the side of my face again. “’Vana, baby. Listen. You gotta answer me, mama. I need somethin' here,” he asked stroking my cheeks. I nodded as I began to cry again.

He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me to the passenger side door. He opened the door for me to get in. I slid past Terry and sat down in the seat.

The memories I had tried to forget came flooding back — my ex. I spaced out for a second. Terry opened the door and climbed in. He adjusted the seat to fit more comfortably to his height. He leaned over one final time and kissed my forehead. “Just promise me that you're okay?” he asked softly. “Yeah, I'm… I'm okay,” I said sniffling.

*20 minutes later

I stood in Terry's bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. I was leaned back against the sink while fighting to remain consciously present. I hated it when things triggered me and brought me back to that place. I had worked so hard to never deal with this again. All those years of therapy, and for what? How could what this man did still take such a toll on me? Tonight, I felt like I regressed tremendously.

I stood up and walked to the glass shower door. I slid it open and reached in to feel the water. It was more than ready. I just wanted to get in and wash away all of tonight—all of the egg yolks, all of the fear, all of the anxiety, all of it.

Taglist (asked and assumed):

@avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh

@megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites

@jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions

@deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo

@ariiijestertheklown @armandosbabymama @gg-trini @skyesthebomb

@blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere

@iburias @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1

@geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder

@ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld

@blyffe @helloncrocs @amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @babybratzmaraj

@qtmkenedy03 @pinkpantheris @skyesthebomb @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

*If you want to be added or removed, let me know by commenting.

[sunnyrisee]

Message In A Bottle — Bang Chan

pairing : idol! bang chan x fem! reader

genre : angst with fluff ending, childhood friends to lovers.

summary : you've been loving chan for as long as you can remember, but sadly, he was clueless. you bottled up all your feelings into notes, each folded into different shapes, hoping that one day you could give this bottle of emotions to him.

word count : 3,605

author's note : this is my first time writing on tumblr. also, inspired by fyp on tiktok (i honestly forgot the username). lastly, i apologize if there are any mistakes.

You loved him from the very beginning.

You've been there for him since childhood, watching him grow from a nobody into someone cherished by millions.

Years passed, and your bond with Chan only grew stronger. You were his best friend, his confidante, the one who always believed in him, even when no one else did. You were the one who gently rubbed circles on his back when the sad days overwhelmed him, dropping everything just to see Chan again and bring a smile to his face.

He only let you wrap your arms around him, only you play with his hair, only you caress his cheeks and wipe away his tears. You were his safe haven, his source of comfort in the storm.

It's always like that.

The day Stray Kids debuted was the happiest day of his life. And yours too, because you knew how much it meant to him. You stood in the crowd, tears streaming down your face, as you watched him light up the stage.

As the group gained popularity and recognition, that's when the distance between the two of you started to widen. It wasn't his fault; you understood the demands of his career.

Shouldn't you be happy for his success? Shouldn't you be proud of him? He had waited for this day to come, years of training and sacrifices finally paying off.

Thankfully, he still visits your apartment sometimes, though not as often as before. Back then, you used to talk about everything under the sun with him. Now, it's just a brief hello followed by a bitter goodbye that stings your heart.

As night fell, you found yourself flipping through your old photo album. There were pictures of little Chan and you, captured in moments of pure happiness, building sandcastles, watching sunsets, and running around together, laughing without a care in the world.

You look at your phone and see a message from Chan. You hate the way he can make your heart flutter and a warm feeling spread across your cheeks.

Somehow, a twinge of jealousy crept in. There were countless stunning idols who could easily catch his eye. You scrutinized yourself in the mirror, painfully aware of your differences.

You were just you, not like them—plain, ordinary, and feeling hopelessly inadequate.

But you tried to think positively, reminding yourself to wait for your turn. Chan had always told you to trust your heart and be patient. However, why did you feel such a tightness in your chest, as if tears were threatening to spill?

You sit there clutching your shirt, feeling the intense moment pierce your heart open. You don't know her, but all you can see is her slowly taking your place. It feels like you're watching your own nightmare unfold. God, she's more beautiful than you.

You try not to think of it, but each passing moment makes it harder to ignore. The way they laugh together, and the way Chan gently tucks her hair behind her ear, hurts you more than ever before. It's the same thing he used to do when you were studying hard for exams, a gesture that once brought you comfort and now only brings pain.

Once again, you try to hold back your tears that threaten to spill. You hide it quite well, but little did you know, Felix observed the way you shifted and how you looked away from the scene. He's the only one who knows about your feelings for Chan. He wants to approach you, but you slowly get up, ready to leave before anyone notices your teary eyes.

You hate seeing yourself this vulnerable. No, you've never felt this weak before.

You take your bag and pull out a bottle filled with paper folded into cute shapes. Each one contains messages you've been writing for Chan for all these years. It's your secret way of expressing yourself when words fail you, something Chan has never known about. You took out a small piece of paper and wrote one more message before you left. As you penned the words, you finally let your tears fall freely. You could only hear your painful sobs as you folded the paper into a heart shape.

'For My Channie'

You felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch slightly. Turning around, you saw the freckled boy with a big smile on his face.

"I made brownies, you know?" Felix grinned. "Thanks to your help that day, I finally didn't burn the kitchen down again."

His warm smile always melted your heart. Felix felt like a little brother to you. Whenever Chan wasn't around, he would check on you, asking if you had eaten or if you were okay. As soon as he saw the tear stains on your cheeks, he understood how much pain you were in. He had never seen you like this before.

"T-Thanks, Lix." You choked out, wiping away your tears. Felix then told you to wait as he quickly packed some of the brownies just for you.

"Here." He said gently, handing you a small package. His caring eyes met yours, offering a small glimmer of comfort in your moment of sorrow. You bowed to him gratefully and whispered a small thank you.

"Felix, could you give this bottle to Chan when he's alone?" You asked, handing him the bottle filled with paper folded into various shapes, each containing a message inside. He was confused at first, but then he nodded understandingly. Giving you a thumbs up, you quietly slipped away, hoping your message would reach Chan and convey everything your heart couldn't say aloud.

You looked at them for one last time, hoping that Chan would notice your absence. But he didn't seem to realize, continuing to talk and laugh with her. He looked so happy, so clearly in love. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the ache of everything weighing heavily on you. You slowly shut your eyes, trying not to care about what was happening.

As you arrived home, you burst into your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed. The floodgates opened, and you cried uncontrollably, your sobs echoing through the empty room. The pain and loneliness consumed you, each tear a testament to the heartache you had been holding back for so long. Your chest heaved with every breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again, and the tears seemed endless, soaking your pillow as you cried yourself into exhaustion.

"He doesn't care. He never did. Why would you fall for him, Y/n?" You whispered to yourself through your tears. "You should know better... He's an idol now."

You continued to cry as you gathered all the things that reminded you of him and put them into a box. You weren't going to throw them away; you just needed to put them out of sight so you could try to move on.

"Why did I let myself fall for you? And even make you my home... A home I can never get into... Despite knowing every corner of it's well..." You murmured softly, your voice cracking with emotion as you reflected on the depth of your feelings.

As the day went on, you focused on your job as a doctor, dedicating yourself wholeheartedly to helping others, much like Felix. Despite your busy shift, thoughts of Chan lingered in your mind. During breaks, you checked your messages, hoping for a notification from him, but there was nothing.

Why couldn't you just forget about him?

When you finally returned home, a message from him awaited you. He asked about your day and more, and you found yourself staring at the screen, unsure of how to react. Frozen in place, you felt a wave of mixed emotions wash over you, leaving you at a loss for what to do next.

Isn't this what you wanted? Why do you feel so afraid now, when it's finally happening? The conflicting emotions swirl within you, uncertainty clouding your heart despite longing for this moment.

A month without your calls, messages, and silly pick-up lines. Chan hated to admit that he missed your presence. He tried to reach out, asking how you were, if you had eaten, or if he could come to your apartment. However, every time he asked, you always had plenty of excuses.

It's like you're avoiding him.

"Hyung, after Y/n left the party that night, she gave me this. She said it's for you. I don't know, hyung, but when she left... I could tell she was holding back her tears." Felix handed Chan the bottle, and Chan took it, his brow furrowing in confusion. He turned it over in his hands, trying to understand its significance.

You're sad? Why didn't you tell him? What could have possibly made you this upset?

The bottle was from the time you were both still in high school. You both went to a park on a sunny afternoon, exploring a quaint antique truck that had caught your eye. Among them was a small, intricately designed bottle that had caught Y/n's attention. Chan had secretly bought it for you, knowing how much you admired it.

Now, clutching the same bottle in his hands, Chan wondered why Y/n had entrusted it to Felix. His mind raced with questions.

Felix observed Chan closely, hoping that he would finally realize your true feelings. Chan, however, seemed completely clueless.

Chan worked tirelessly until night fell, consumed with stress over the new song. His mind raced with thoughts, unable to focus. As he trailed off, lost in his thoughts, he noticed a little note peeking out from between the folded papers inside the bottle. He noticed that the bottle wasn't just filled with paper shapes.

He picked up one that was shaped like a star and carefully unfolded it.

"Today is Chan's first audition. I hope Chan gets it. He's been working hard for it."

A smile slowly spread across Chan's face as he read the note. His eyes softened with warmth, and a hint of nostalgia flickered in them. He took another paper shape, and carefully unfolded it.

"They finally get a first win! I'm so proud of them!"

He stifled a laugh as he remembered how the kids had cried when they were announced as the winners.

"Channie wants to buy a present for his parents. I'm going to save some money to help him :)"

The note revealed your thoughtful plan to assist Chan with buying a gift for his parents. He soon recalled his savings, surprised to realize that you had helped him accumulate them. That's when he took out all the notes and read through each one carefully. He noticed how the words became more emotional.

"Someday, I want to know not only the colors of you eyes but also the colors of your dreams."

"I told my family and friends to support Chan and all the StrayKids members. They need more recognition!"

"Happiness is when I am excited to meet you and you're excited to meet me too."

"It's your first time on stage, I can't believe how far you've come."

"Your eyes are the warmest place in the world even when I'm looking at them under the coldest rain."

"I hope my Channie is surrounded by people who care and love him. He deserves so much love."

"Don't you ever forget, your authenticity, the real you is more beautiful than all the well-received, striking, scenic facades in this world combined."

"You look tired these days. I hope you get much rest. Don't be such a workaholic, dumbass!"

"How's Korea? You look happier there. Glad to see you with that big smile. Well, I'm still studying here :D"

"When I'm by your side, it's like all of my fears, worries and anxieties melt away thanks to your warm presence."

"No one knows how to ignite the fire in my heart the way you do."

"Channie, I finally became a doctor. I kept my promise, and you are the first person I told :]"

"I'm so in love with you, Chan. In an instant, I knew what I felt. In a brief moment, I knew exactly that you were the one."

Chan read every single one of your notes, tears streaming down his face as he realized how clueless he had been all these years about your feelings. His smile faded as he remembered everything you had done for him—the way you dropped everything just to be there for him, always making time to listen to his thoughts and talk about seemingly unimportant things.

After all this time, you always there for him. His mind slowly repeating all the memories he have with you.

He thought of her long hair, cascading down her back like a silken waterfall. He could almost feel its softness, the way it slipped through his fingers. He remembered her soft smile, the one that could light up even his darkest days, a smile so pure and genuine that it made his heart swell with love.

Her beautiful features danced in his mind's eye, the curve of her lips, the sparkle in her eyes, the way she looked at him as if he were her whole world. He missed the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her embrace, the way she would nuzzle into his chest and sigh contentedly.

How could he have been so clueless?

There was one last paper shaped like a heart. As Chan examined it, he realized that the last paper was a bit messy. He softly opened it, his hands trembling slightly.

"And you know what? The reason why I kept holding on was, I always thought that perhaps, you were waiting for me, too..."

That was the last message. His tears, already streaming down, turned into uncontrollable sobs. How could he have been so oblivious? He cried out loud, unable to believe how foolish he had been. Chan clutched the heart-shaped paper to his chest, memories flooding his mind. The weight of his realization bore down on him, crushing his heart with the knowledge of what could have been.

Now, he couldn't think of anyone else he wanted to spend his life with. It has always been you.

A memory flashed in his mind of how deeply you cared for him, the only one who truly understood him, and the one who had always been there for him through thick and thin.

Felix stood in the doorway, watching Chan break down, his own heart aching for both of you. He had always known about your feelings, had seen the way you looked at Chan, the way you lit up whenever he was around. Now, seeing Chan's reaction, he hoped his friend would finally understand the depth of your love.

He quietly stepped in, placing a comforting hand on Chan's shoulder as he looked up at the younger boy.

"It's been a month, hyung. Do you know that she watched you, in pain, getting close to that girl?" He murmured softly. He described how tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed Chan caress the girl's hair. Chan's expression crumbled as he absorbed Felix's words, the weight of your unspoken pain settling heavily on his heart. He hadn't realized how much his actions had hurt you until now, and the regret gnawed at him.

"Yah! Are you trying to age yourself prematurely? Stop working so hard, it's showing!"

He stood up abruptly, determination replacing the sorrow on his face. He had to find you, to tell you that he finally understood, that he felt the same way. He couldn't let you slip away, not after everything. Chan grabbed his coat and headed to the door, leaving Felix standing silently. He couldn't shake the image of your tear-filled eyes and the pain he had caused you.

As he was on his way, traffic came to a standstill, and he cursed under his breath. Why was the world moving so slowly for him now? Was this some kind of punishment?

"I've been exhausted lately, pulling night shifts. The chilly nights only seem to make it worse."

As he drove to the hospital, memories of you filled his mind. He recalled the times you had mentioned how hard you worked, often taking night shifts at the hospital. He could feel the cold breeze seeping through, making him shiver. He cursed himself for telling you that you would survive and everything was fine.

He swore that even he might catch a cold from the frigid breeze.

With each breath turning to mist in the cold air, Chan hurried into the hospital. He sprinted through the corridors, regret pushing him forward, and discovered you in the break room, exhausted after a long shift.

"It would mean a lot if you knew that while you're caught up in your own world, you know I'm working just as hard."

It all became clear to him. All those times you talked about your work—the stress you faced, the small victories you cherished, and how you always tried to keep things positive despite your tiredness.

He watched from outside the door, and for the first time in his life, he was captivated by your beauty. Your hair, casually pulled into a ponytail, draped over your shoulders in flowing waves, emphasizing your effortless allure. The calming rhythm of your breath and the tranquil elegance of your sleeping pose created a breathtaking vision that left him awestruck.

"Apologies for not messaging you. Whenever I get exhausted, I crash in the break room."

The moment you opened your eyes, Chan's concerned face came into view, his expression a silent plea for forgiveness.

"Chris? W-What are you doing here?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt and confusion in your voice.

Chris—the government nickname you never use. Just hearing it made his heart ache, a painful reminder of the distance and misunderstandings between you.

Is this what you've been feeling all along?

He was lost in his own thoughts for several minutes before he managed to find an answer. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you. He felt an overwhelming urge to hold you close, to kiss you, but the words caught in his throat.

"I'm an idiot, Y/n. I only focused on my own life and goals while y-you were there watching and supporting me. I didn't see what was right in front of me all along. I didn't see how important you were until now. I'm sorry it t-took me this amount of time to truly understand your feelings..." Chan explained, his voice trembling.

"The truth, Y/n, is that I love you. It took me a long time to unravel the depths of my own heart. You're the missing piece that completes and brings together my scattered, disordered, and messy life... Baby, I'm gonna feel bad for myself if I never had a chance of knowing you in this, o-or any other lifetime. At the end of a challenging day, I just want to come home to your peaceful presence, rest my head on your stomach, and share all the day's burdens with you." He spoke, his voice breaking with emotion.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked at him, the sincerity and desperation in his voice breaking down the walls you had built around your heart.

"And, Y/n. Yes, I've been w-waiting for you too, love." Chan said, his voice trembling, as tears cascaded down his cheeks. He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms.

You held him close as he cried on your shoulder, his sobs shaking his entire body. You whispered comforting words, gently rubbing his back, trying to soothe his anguish. His tears soaked through your shirt, but you didn't mind.

"Shh, it's okay, Chan. I'm here." You murmured softly. His grip on you tightened, as if he feared you might disappear if he let go.

"I'm so sorry, b-baby. I should have seen how much you were hurting. I love you so much, love. Please, forgive me..." He choked out between sobs, his voice filled with regret and pain. You shushed him gently, your fingers running through his hair.

"I love you too, Channie. I will always love you. A thousand year from now, I will still love you like I did a thousand years before." You comforted him, and he sought your warmth, clinging to you tightly.

Chan looked closely into your eyes, cupping your cheek and gently drawing your lips to his. He slowly pressed his lips to yours, in a kiss that spoke of deep passion, tender affection, and a softness that made your heart flutter. Time seemed to stand still, every second stretching into an eternity as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

You both gently pulled away as your eyes meeting in a moment of shared understanding. A smile blossomed on your lips, reflecting the warmth.

"The search is over. Amongst the loneliness of the universe, I've finally found you."

[catboybiologist]

Alright. We need to talk about screenshotting my posts and putting them on other sites.

tl;dr: feel free to screenshot and spread my posts, but if you do so or see someone else doing so, please let me know. Either tag me (same username on youtube and reddit) or send me a link here.

Reasoning/why I'm saying this now under the cut.

Recently, I've noticed increase in the number of my posts that have made it to the subreddit r/curatedtumblr. This subreddit is a bit of a gateway to tiktok, youtube, and any other site that reposts tumblr screenshots - usually, AI video voiceover videos use the exact screenshots that were posted to reddit first, so usually r/curatedtumblr is the first "leak" of a post having reach outside of tumblr itself.

Now.

Most of the time, I don't have a problem with this. I even like it when random stuff I say has a reach beyond my usual community, and maybe even has a chance to resonate with someone that wouldn't have seen it otherwise. I don't know which one of my posts are going to resonate with other communities and other people, so I also don't want the only way for a an idea of mine to make it to another platform to be me manually posting that idea there myself. curatedtumblr has a blacklist of blogs who do not want to be post to that subreddit, but for this reason, I don't necessarily want to add myself to this blacklist. And of course, most of the time what gets reposted is a random shitpost, so its not a big deal.

However. Occasionally, a post of mine that is political, or has a deeper discussion associated with it, or something along those lines, is reposted elsewhere. And well, things can get very weird. Discussion can go in directions that I can't control, context can be added or removed that completely alters my point, and I can start to attract hate from people without even knowing it. And when this happens, it tends to spill back to me. When my posts make it to other platforms, its pretty normal to get a slight uptick in hate, or even just people finding that post and adding their own misinterpretation or discussion that happened 100% without me knowing. Being looped into the conversation, or even being able to see what kind of

A frustrating, but ultimately harmless example, is the "peak androgyny gandalf big naturals" post. I added context to that to clarify the way I was making fun of societal standards of androgyny as a whole, when the post instead seemed to be interpreted as the "correct" way to be nonbinary, which was not my intention at all.

I found the post on reddit, posted my own screenshots with the context I added, and was able to participate in the conversation, which helped a lot! But, the original, contextless post was up long enough that it pretty much solidified that misinterpretation as the main way people read that post.

I considered posting something like this then, but again, its ultimately harmless. I would've liked to participate in the reddit discussion earlier, but no biggie. So I didn't mention anything then.

Today, I opened reddit and saw this:

That title is not mine. It was added by the person who posted it to curatedtumblr. I've since had a respectful conversation with u/Hummerous, and they agreed to take the post down. 0 hate to them, again, they were respectful, and I'm screenshotting their username with permission.

This reads as a call for violence. Specifically, it reads as a call for violence that I am saying, and was attributed to me without my knowledge or consent.

This was not the intention of the original post. I was specifically referring to social ostricization, deplatforming, and anger responses, which are the forms of "silencing" that conservatives typically complain about.

Look. Responsible left wing gun ownership is something I support. Calls to extreme action are sometimes warranted. However, I am not qualified to comment on these, encourage them, or communicate about them. Communication of a specific topic is a skill. I do not possess that skill as it relates to guns or gun ownership. There are many, many other activists who do. Miscommunication can be dangerous. I want the most qualified and strongest voices to communicate properly. For this issue, that is not me.

This post isn't even about gun ownership, but suddenly, I'm forced to comment on it. If it seems like I'm pussyfooting around the topic, then yeah, I am- because this post is a little fucking scary on my end, and escalates rhetoric against me and others around me. Again, without my knowledge or consent.

I saw this post and was able to request it be taken down. But by that time, it already had 1.2k upvotes and god knows how many people who had seen it. If I were tagged earlier, I could've asked for that earlier, and I would be a little less jumpy right now.

So please. PLEASE. If you see a post of mine on another platform, please either ping me on that platform or send me a link to that post via tumblr DMs.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

(not sure if I'm doing this right, sorry :'0) I'm somewhat new to tumblr so this is my first request (or whatever we call them XP), so totally understandable if you can't do it BUT!!!!!!!!!! It would honestly make my pride month if you could possibly perchance do a flirty villain (top) x wounded but tryna laugh it off and reciprocate the flirtation but failing to keep a brave face (bottom) hero!!! Sry that's a lot in one sentence but I always detail the thing I want the most for some reason (=w=;)

"Oh god-" The hero grabbed their side. Deep in their throat a groan took form. "I'm gonna pass out..."

"Lay down."

"I'm fine. I'm totally...fuck-" The villain couldn't tell if the hero was stupid or simply too stubborn but they figured both suspicions could confirm their overall assumption. They took another step towards the hero.

"Lay down," they repeated. They probably wouldn't even need much force to push the hero to the ground themselves but it was something they deemed to be unnecessarily violent.

They needed the hero alive. They needed all those nasty secrets to spill out of that chatty mouth.

Without another second of hesitation, they seized the hero's wrist and pulled them closer.

"If we don't act in the next minutes, you will bleed out like a slaughtered pig," the villain said. Their voice was low and they had taken the liberty to be as close as possible to the hero's ear. "So, if you would like to continue to follow me around like a good dog, you need to lay down."

The hero still had their fingers on their wound and by now, the blood covered not only their hand but also their clothes.

"Please, just..." With the hero's debatable consent, the villain decided to lead them towards the ground. At first, they sat down together but soon enough, the villain pushed them gently against the ground and climbed on top of them.

Before the hero could protest, they pressed their palm into the wound, making the hero curse and lift their hips.

"Fuck-" The hero tried to laugh but it was much more pathetic than that. There were even tears in their eyes. Without further ado, the villain pushed down their hips again. "You devil-"

Their enemy was probably seeing stars right now.

The villain knew this type of pain a little too well. A stab wound this deep was scary. It was terrifying. The hero was losing a lot of blood pretty quickly and although the villain was aware of their ability to heal from such a wound within hours, them losing blood was still a major problem.

Once, the villain had tried to stitch a wound themselves and they had ended up with a frequently reopening wound they had to deal with for weeks. It was torture. A wound like this was so disruptive to the entire body that the villain didn't even want their enemy to go through this.

So, they decided to do something irrational. Something so stupid only the hero could think of it.

"I like being on top of you."

"Huh?" The hero's breath was horribly quick. Their heart was probably raging itself to a quick death in their chest. Distracting them was the best way to keep them alive.

"It's a great view," the villain said. They put more pressure on the wound and the hero whimpered so pathetically, it did something to the villain. They were sweating, contorting their face because of the pain. However, the hero managed a tired smile.

"Christ...you're flirting. Now?!"

"I believe listing all the causes you could die of in the next minutes would be counterproductive. So. Do you always like it this rough?"

This time, the hero actually laughed and grabbed the villain's wrists. They took in a deep breath and groaned when another wave of pain hit them.

"Great way to die...with you flirting...I mean, you out of all people..." The hero dared to look down at the injury but the villain knew that it was certainly never a good idea to do so. They had passed out in the bathtub while caring for their own wounds one too many times.

"Eyes on me." The hero obeyed and tired eyes found focused ones. They kept staring at each other. The villain noticed some patterns in the hero's irises that were quite pleasant to look at. "What? Do you think I have no sex life?"

"I thought you were the quiet type," the hero said. Their nails dug into the villain's arm but it seemed cruel to order the hero to stop it.

After all, pain demanded violence, or did it not?

They hoped the hero's wounds could heal quicker this time. It seemed to be a utopian wish — since it usually took hours — but the villain couldn't imagine that the hero's body was going to give up on them.

First of all, they had to stop the bleeding and it didn't look too bad right now. The hero wasn't losing as much blood as before. Something was working.

"I'm the type to let you know what I enjoy. Which means that I can be quite loud."

"Fuck...you are awful."

"I don't know what you are referring to."

Again, the hero smiled.

The villain could feel the warmth of the blood on their hands. Most certainly, the hero's skin was going to regenerate soon. It had to. Stopping the bleeding seemed to be working and the villain was not ready to give up on the hero.

"All it took was a stab wound for you to finally flirt with me," the hero said. Finally?

Their voice was quiet and even though they were still struggling, they seemed to be a little too tired to put up a fight. What the villain didn't expect was for them to put their bloody hand on the villain's cheek.

Something happened and the villain felt like throwing up. It was inexplicable.

"I..." the villain began. But there was no time to dwell on any unnecessary feelings. "You have regenerative powers, right?"

The hero nodded.

"Is your body also able to produce some kind of sedative?"

"Sometimes," the hero said. "It's weird..."

Their hand was still on the villain's cheek. Their thumb was moving across the villain's skin. But the villain took their hand and moved it away. They could already feel the blush forming on their neck and for a moment, they looked away.

The hero didn't look happy about it, though.

"Focus." The villain didn't know if they had said this to themselves or the hero. Their chest hurt. "You need to stay awake, got it?"

"...yeah..."

"Eyes on me," the villain commanded again. "And they stay on me, got it?"

The villain was aware of the challenges their enemy was facing. Fighting the sedative and still holding on until their body was able to hold in the blood on its own were two tasks the villain was sure they would fail immediately. But the hero was strong. They were determined.

Their eyes were on the villain and they remained there for half an hour.

However, when a soft layer of skin had grown over the wound and seemingly everything was over, the villain couldn't tell why their own heart was pounding so hard.

Nor could they remember what kind of information they had wanted to squeeze out of the hero.

[rodger-eyeballis]

” HELLO EVERYONE, GUYS!! DO NOT PASS ㅤㅤㅤㅤ BY, THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT ㅤㅤㅤㅤ FOR A LITERARY CLUB!

I have the honor to introduce you: the first and most ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ important president of the circle associated with ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ librarianship and preserving the memory of various ㅤ ㅤ ㅤexcellent authors — Brightney the Lamp! And also, a ㅤ ㅤ beautiful girl with good taste and a very high mind. Yes, yes, this is a very important part! I like to sit at books late at night, learn from the works and write my own stories. I ㅤdon't like loafing, loud noises, and bad behavior in the library. Now, we are fully acquainted, so we can begin your ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ little enlightenment into my affairs!

Introduction: ㅤDon't worry, Rodger wasn't hacked and he didn't delete his account (otherwise I see that there haven't been any posts from him for a long time because of my intrusion).. It's just that this Sir befriendly lent me his blog on Tumblr so that your sweet Brigtney could talk about our shared comfortable library circle (why you should definitely visit it and what we will do) and about the participants you can meet in it! Yes, yes, even so! And since this part is, for the most part, my introduction and excerpt.. I would like to add that. YES, I ALSO CONSIDER RODGER TOON TO BE A NON-TRADITIONAL ORIENTATION, YOU GUYS ARE NOT ALONE. I can feel it from afar, it's not for nothing that I've read huge collections about relationships —… Oh, I'm sorry, we'll talk about this later, Rodger started looking at me menacingly (HOWEVER, if you do join the club, we can discuss the mental analysis of this Sir with examples from the literature in one of the sessions, if he doesn't come there.. Just keep it quiet, it's a secret)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤTHE MAIN PART :

ㅤYou won't regret joining our literary club! It's a place ㅤㅤwhere books come to life and discussions become real journeys into the world of literature. We read a variety of ㅤㅤ genres, from classics to modern prose, and each participant can offer their book for discussion. Every week we gather to share our thoughts and impressions, and it ㅤalways leads to interesting and deep conversations. In addition, we have meetings with our local ‘stars’ (I MEAN VEE, SHE AGREED TO VISIT US SOMETIMES), which will ㅤgreatly increase the excitement in the circle. We also organize creative events such as literary contests and workshops where you can develop your writing skills. Our club has a friendly atmosphere, and you are sure to find like-minded people and new friends. If you love literature and want to discover something new, come to us! We will be glad to see you and create a unique atmosphere of ㅤㅤㅤㅤ communication and inspiration together.

ㅤ Also, by becoming a member of the circle, you automatically get unlimited access to my library! That is, at any time and hour, even when I'm not there, you can relax on cool and soft ottomans or sip Teagan tea at the table (just be careful! Don't spill it on yourself or on the ㅤbooks). Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Participants also get access to unlimited tea and coffee, and all thanks to the ㅤㅤ misis Mug! So, don't forget to thank her for it :b

And a little new vision in the circle! Now each participant can receive their own personal logo with a bow, made and sewn from.. A DRUM ROLL.. from GLISTEN! Oh, he's such a good guy! It's only recently that we got the Mirror, even ㅤthough I've been inviting it to our club all the time.. I'm talking too much. IN SHORT! By joining the circle, you can approach this boy and officially order our beautiful logo. ㅤㅤHowever, keep in mind that the ribbon will always be GREEN, so choose the colors and the thing that will be on the emblem more carefully. For example, I have a Feather ㅤㅤㅤㅤ sewn here! — Yeah, it's very beautiful.

Summary results for the lazy (Although, ㅤㅤwhat's the point of joining a LITERARY circle if you're ㅤㅤㅤㅤ even too lazy to read a short text??):

(By joining the club, you will receive..)

A reading experience and a good atmosphere!!!

Unlimited access to the Library (and yes, I forgot to tell you. It's on the ground floor of the third elevator!)

Meeting with the star of the quiz program — Vee

Masterclasses and contests

Excellent tea and coffee from Teagan (who will always be sitting in the library for you.. She really liked it there)

Special official logos to order from Glisten

And I'd like to add on my own: A handsome, muscularly attractive detective who comes to our club once every few weeks. Although, no. I'm not letting you look at sexy guys instead of reading 😤—

Well, that's it, guys! I hope you are at least interested in ㅤㅤsomething and you have a desire to join the club.. Although, this is more specific to toons, which makes me extremely upset. But don't worry, if I ever have my own ㅤㅤㅤblog, we can set up an online literary club, but in the meantime, you can get some information from Rodger about books! He's certainly not me, but the detective's ㅤㅤㅤ reading experience is more than good^^

ㅤㅤㅤ————————————————

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Members: (This section was created to show my favorites and their wishes for you! And maybe your personal opinion about ㅤㅤㅤㅤ the club.. For this reason, read to the end)

Razzle and Dazzle, comedy and drama specials at the same time! Deputy head of the club, keeps order in the ㅤㅤㅤㅤ library (puts books in their place, etc)🌙☀️

— Yes, that's us!!! Hello country, hello world, we are ready to work for the benefit of the club and you wonderful persons!!

— (Oh, you're at it again.. Be more calm, brother, you can't make noise in the library.. Don't set a bad example for them. Be quiet and calm, literary works require diligent thoughtfulness and understanding to understand the deep essence of it to the end.. This does not apply to comedi—)

— Hey! You're belittling me in public again!

Astro, the second headman, runs the library exclusively at night (if you take a late meal or have a nightmare, then go to him for sure!). He is also an expert in everything, but his ㅤㅤ favorite genre is science fiction about space ✉️

( I'm sorry, I didn't have time to interview him because he... he.. Um, too busy! Yes! This one's definitely not because he's missing or something.. )

Our beautiful Teagan! She has recently joined our team, but she is always ready to offer you interesting fashion ㅤㅤㅤㅤ magazines, as well as sad romantic novels 🍃

— Oh, my dear little darlings, I must confess that I have yet to fully immerse myself in the enchanting realm of literature, much like the illustrious Brigtney. However, I would be absolutely delighted to share a delightful cup of spiced tea with you, accompanied by a captivating book. Please, do not hesitate to approach me; I have a splendid tea set that is perfect for such serene and cozy moments. One can only hope that the mischievous dog-girl refrains from nibbling on it once more... Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Rodger?

This is my favorite duo! Rodger and Toodles (who also ㅤ ㅤㅤjoined here not long ago) are ardent fans of ㅤㅤDetective Stories, especially if they contain a bit of psychological horror.. Are you sure children can read this?.. Although, I know for sure that when this little girl learns to analyze the text under my guidance, she will not ㅤㅤㅤㅤ only read such works, heh^^⭐️💫

— Wait a minute, when did Toodles manage to devour the tea set.. ahem. Yes, when I have a little free time, I spend most of my time reading a book. However, at this point in time, I'm not only reading a detective story, so it would be extremely helpful if you would recommend some work. Only normal.. I've had enough of Brigtney as it is (I'll read romance with Glisten, he just seems to like this genre.. Although, after the death of Romeo and Juliet, he has not yet recovered..)

— VEEE! VEE iS comINg! SHE's cOMing, SHESs COOMing! I reALLy waNT to see hEr, I'm heR faN. I hOPe she liKESs dETECctive boOKks toO.

ps: I did not choose the logo for the bow, but this star on the bow is extremely good.. I think Mirror did a good job. My daughter liked it too, that's the most important thing.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Glisten stars (???):

Yeah, I made a separate paragraph for Glisten because ㅤㅤhe... he.. The coolest, most beautiful, awesome and attractive toon in the whole center! It's impossible not to ㅤㅤgive Mirror a special place of honor when he not only visited me, but also bothered to help me upgrade the ㅤㅤㅤㅤ club.. God, do I have to write all this? 🎀

— Oh, yes, it's me! Come on, stop applauding! I know that you all love me, but there should be silence on the stage. That's it, thanks. Your wonderful Glisten has finally decided to join the club, after several pleading requests from Brightney. However, I'm not going to go to the library often beca— WAIT A MINUTE! Will Teagan be there? Wait, where is she from.. together with Rodg? In the same room? She's a two-faced fuc—... Mmm, anyway, this Lamp inspired me to improve and I will gladly go to the literary club every day. So wait for me there, my beloved fans😘

ㅤㅤㅤ————————————————

Phew, it was hard, but we got through it.. More precisely, I ㅤdid it! Thank you for reading, and I hope you didn't get bored my presentation. Maybe we'll see each other on the blog someday, if I need anything else from Mr. Rodger, but ㅤㅤㅤㅤ for now, see you again^^ ”

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 8)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

GIF: Originally posted by @darklinsblog

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Nightmares. Violence. Dub/non con. Kissing. Nudity. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex. Plot related cigarette use. Language.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Hello there! I wasn't intending on posting this chapter until I had the others finished but I guess Tumblr took that decision away from me and published instead of saving! Oh well, guess I'll roll with it. As always, I hope you enjoy and would be very happy to hear your thoughts. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

The combination of the darkened clouds and the even more desaturated décor is making the room despairingly claustrophobic.

Sporadic breaths rattle up and down your trachea; a remnant of the fear that had been created by the tail end of that conversation. You are struggling to make sense of the direction it had taken; the barrelling downward spiral whereby you discovered your newfound status.

No longer do you hold the lone title of soulmate. You are a captive.

At least that's what Morpheus made it sound like. The word is shudder inducing and a fresh trickle of bile spills into your mouth.

The door he left through, the one blocking your freedom, you are standing close enough to it that you can see every grain and groove of the ebony wood - and the curious absence of a handle or lock. With a flattened hand you gingerly press against the varnished surface, upping the pressure when you don't appear to have tripped any alarms. There's no movement no matter how hard you push, not that you really anticipated any. Morpheus said locked in for a reason. Regardless, you feel that you needed to try just in case he had changed his mind. Again, an eventuality that you do not expect.

You get the sense that Morpheus' grasp of stubbornness would rival that belonging to a group of at least 100,000 people; he is a ruler, and a centuries-old one at that. Accustomed to being in control, well versed in the art of exerting it.

He's chilling too. That nightmare quality really won out just now. You have seen darkness in his eyes before, (brought on by intense moments including sexual desire) and the effects he can have on the environments surrounding him, but this was a whole new breed.

The deflection. The disdain. The remorselessness. How the shadows had danced around him like crude oil twisting in water, a cloak of obscurity and energy to drive you away and leave you isolated.

And your relentlessness was the catalyst for it being unleashed. You're unsure as to why you brought up the theoretical consequences of refusing to be his soulmate. It had just slipped out. There were numerous other ways in which you could have handled the situation yet that was the conversational path you took.

You shudder again, wrapping your arms around your middle in an attempt to self-soothe. It provides a measure of relief but also draws attention to the fact that he should be doing this. Morpheus should be holding you. Talking this through with you.

Instead he left you standing on the marble floor, the intrinsically endothermic nature of the material causing iciness to seep up your legs via your bare feet.

Seeking warmth, you move back to the bed and dejectedly lie down.

The usual covered plate of food has appeared on the bedside table; your expression is so obviously rattled that you can see every detail despite the metal's distortion. You roll over, not wanting to contemplate eating for even a second.

Your entire body is tense, with epicentres in your tight chest and thought-clogged brain, the latter of which is showing signs of inducing a migraine. You breathe with steady intent, a review of the encounter relentlessly replaying.

One question keeps rising to the surface, getting louder and more insistent with each iteration:

Why was he doing this?

He had said it was to protect you. That it was dangerous outside. Was the dream world suddenly that different now that you had free will? Surely he would have led with that if it were true. Found a way to make it safe...

He's been unfalteringly devoted to you in every other way thus far. The aftercare looked to be proof enough of his character. The reassurance, and explanations during the soul-tying. Holding you. Staying beside you while you slept, even though he did not require the rest himself.

But then there is the distinct lack of sharing, both of his internal and external worlds, and of course the 'it is not your place to do so' comment.

That one really stings. You had been convinced that you were his equal. Yet the way the words fell so easily from his mouth, without hesitation nor any sign of an underpinning emotion - it sounded like a response that was not uttered in the heat of the moment.

How were you to know though?

You've not known him for that long and it's not like you can tell from the bond between you, even now after days of longing to and trying to pick up on something, anything that would inform you of his heart. The one thing you can attempt to read into is the state of the ceiling sky; you are getting a sense that it is linked directly to his moods. Its sudden deterioration the moment you had voiced your concerns couldn't have been a coincidence, could it?

The more you grapple for meaning, the harder you are finding it to reconcile the evidence before you, so conflicted on your opinion of him, of the situation. Yet no amount of speculation and reframing could take away from the few facts you have:

The Fates had told you of an unfathomably long imprisonment that Morpheus had endured and suffered in.

So why was he putting you in a parallel of that?

How can someone who is supposed to be your soulmate be so unreadable to you, and so inexplicably cruel?

You curl into a ball, groaning out loud in frustration.

You ponder if there is something defective within you, if he can see something that you are too human to perceive. Maybe you deserve this on some level because you are not quite enough for him.

"No," you say out loud, firmly casting that contemptuous thought out of your mind.

You will not go in for self-loathing or self-pity. You are strong and capable and compassionate. Morpheus is still your soulmate. You can fix this. Once he's back, you will talk about this.

The resolution seems to lessen the lingering despair enough that you unwittingly fall asleep.

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

There's an anticipatory undercurrent to the chatter being passed back and forth across the circular tables spaced evenly across the function room.

You're sat at one such table, the hands folded in your lap occasionally brushing against the heavy dark blue velvet draped over the wood, the feel of the material's sumptuous pile triggering pleasant goosebumps.

Ice laden water jugs and bowls of savoury snacks occupy the middle of the table, and each seat is designated by a placeholder. Your name is displayed in a bold font across the folded piece of stiff card in front of you and the names of all your colleagues have been typed out on matching markers.

The lighting could be described as ambient, moody even - a strange choice for such a celebratory event. The strongest source of light is directed towards a projection screen, where the order of events are being presented.

You thumb the lock screen button on the right hand side of your phone to check the time. 20:28. The scheduled break is due to end soon. You take a sip of water from the tumbler stamped with your lipstick and wait.

The microphone on the podium clicks and crackles as it is brought back to life and all heads turn in unison towards the man standing there. A spotlight provided by the professional lighting rig suspended above is ignited, the light from it so bright that it obscures every feature on his face.

His tone is light as he reels off a few formalities, making a joke about the speed of which some individuals had headed to the bar come the start of the interval, eliciting a sequence of throaty laughs from the crowd. He then jumps back into the award giving.

"This person, I know for a fact has really been putting in the effort with developing the traits required to truly embody this accolade and everything it stands for. Taking gullible to the next level, allowing themself to be debased and shutting down all logical reasoning. A veritable inspiration of inconsequentiality; therefore, it comes as no surprise that the award for most worthless human goes to -"

He pauses for effect, and the entire room watches on with baited breath.

Condensation beads slip down the outside of the jug closest to you, mirroring a perspiration bead that has begun to slide from your nape. You look away from the stage, feeling an impending sense of doom slink into your stomach with the nausea that suddenly washes over you. Your intuition is well-founded.

The microphone wheezes as the man inhales the breath needed to deliver the announcement.

He says your name.

The applause that follows is rapturous; a chorus of hollers and whistles punctuating the clapping. It's like you're at a rock concert.

None of it aligns with the damning description of the award name. Under no circumstance do you want to go and accept it; doing so would show that you agree with the committee.

You sneak a glance over your shoulder, wincing at the harsh fluorescents spilling in from the foyer through the set of double doors - that is where you quietly need to get to.

You're pushing your chair back slowly and carefully, about to attempt this surreptitious exit when a spotlight hits you. The hand going for your bag freezes mid-reach.

It's as if a tractor beam has been activated. You cannot stop yourself from standing, cannot stop yourself from walking on the scuffed wooden floor, made that way from years of dancing.

The journey to the stage on your shaky legs is long, given your distance from it, intensified even further by the stares of your peers. You go up the steps at the side of the stage, jelly legs adding risk with the slight elevation. You grip the handrail in a white-knuckled fist.

The award waits on the podium: an oversized key on a black plinth, the golden colour of the metal glints temptingly. With your gaze turned downwards, the man shakes your hand with the pressure of a constrictor, praising you with words that you can't hear above the continued applause.

You force your mouth into a smile and ready yourself to take the award, telling yourself that being gracious is the best approach you can take.

Unfortunately, in your moment of acceptance, someone decides to take advantage.

There's a blow to the back of your knee caps.

You cry out from shock and pain; the sound doesn't last long for as soon as your knees make impact with the boards, a gag is forced into your mouth.

The situation and the gag make it hard to breathe in any way other than frantically, pulse just as agitated in your tight-feeling chest.

The crowd's clapping doesn't stop even as intricate restraints are added at your wrists, even as burning tears and sticky snot stream down your face.

The agony intensifies when you are hauled up by your hair and then herded by several pairs of hands towards the wings of the stage. Your eyes fall on the opaque box that stands just out of view of the crowd.

Its purpose is clear. It is to be your cage.

You're now screaming despite the gag, thrashing as you're dragged towards your doom. Not even allowing yourself to be a dead weight can save you; the cloying fingers are too numerous, too zealous.

The door to the cage opens and the presence of the oppressive void within ekes out towards you like a disturbing fog. Whatever is in there, you can sense it will smother you. Obliterate you slowly. And the people in this room seem to believe you are worthy of such a fate.

The hands anchored on your body begin their last pushes. You whip your head around, making a last attempt to search for an escape when you see a figure out the corner of your eye.

There's no questioning who it is; the person who has been on the periphery of so many dreams these past weeks, you would know him anywhere.

You see a glimpse of movement. Perhaps the raising of a hand. A ripple of power courses through the scene - you feel it vibrate in your chest. Everything freezes, and in that sudden silence you hear Morpheus' solemn and decisive words:

"This dream is over."

You startle, a shriek echoing about the sunless space as you are ripped from the dream. The sheets have you wrapped up like a python; you try with desperation to get free, half-convinced that those relentless hands are still trying to ferry you into that cage.

Floundering, you work and work against the fabric, crying out again when your progress is minimal.

"Soulmate."

Morpheus' deep voice sounds, speaking your name next in such an intimate and gentle way that you instantly halt in your struggle.

He is beside you.

All the attributes of concern are in his facial expression and body language, eyes glistening with an emotion you can't quite place.

"It is over now," he confirms, dissolving the sheet into nothing.

He comes closer, stroking your face with one hand, the other atop your chest with the palm centred on your soul. It's a welcome feeling, his attentions and being free from the tangle of sheets, but you are too far gone for it to stop the fear that the nightmare has set in motion.

"When you said that it was not my place to accompany you, is it because you think I'm less than you?" You ask in a cracking, pitiful voice.

Morpheus stills for a heartbeat, before bending his head to look you straight in the eyes. "No," he breathes. "My soulmate, I could never think that."

He kisses you softly.

It's not what you expected but nevertheless your hands cling to him on instinct, kissing him back and then he's suddenly straddling you. Covering your body with his own to give you a feeling of safety and it's exactly what you require.

You're on the verge of tears from it all, touching the back of his neck, gripping his shoulders to keep him close.

"Morpheus," you call.

"I am here. I am not going anywhere."

He kisses you deeper this time as if to corroborate his statement. It incrementally lessens your doubts and anxieties but there's a call for communication too.

"We need to talk about what happened," you say with quiet assertion.

For a moment, you wonder if he has even heard you for he claims your mouth again.

"I do not wish to talk," he eventually replies, immediately diving back in for yet another kiss. "I wish to take away your anguish."

"But -"

He hushes you, a soothing shut down that would be infuriating if not for the lingering unease of the nightmare clogging your emotions. "Let us forget what was said. Let us instead indulge in the pleasure of each other's bodies."

You blink, slowly processing his explicit inference, taken aback by the very obvious physical reactions they inspire. You force yourself to adopt a professional expression as your arousal begins to leak onto your gown.

"I want to talk to you."

He's smiling smugly as he tilts his head to the side. "Your emotions betray you dearest, as does your body. I know exactly what you want and it is not conversation."

Shame rises but is quickly blotted out by Morpheus' next action.

You feel bare skin against yours; he's used his power to disrobe you as well as him. A protest forms - he stifles it with his mouth. Your eyes are wide as you take it, as he shifts his weight ever so slightly to align your hips.

His own eyes stare you down after he pulls back, unblinking like an apex predator who has caught sight of its favourite prey.

Easy prey.

That's what you are.

He arranges you as such too; grasping your legs and moving your knees to your chest to bend you in half. Pinning you underneath him.

Neither of you last long with the tightness of the angle once you allow him to enter you.

To say you are dazed afterwards would be an understatement. The events of the past few hours have been persistently erratic. If Morpheus feels the same then it isn't apparent. The colour of his eyes are as clear and stable as the weather above, hand warming his favoured spot on your chest.

Your own hands wander up and down his body, running smoothly over his enticing skin.

"You have not touched your food," he comments quietly.

One of your palms moves absentmindedly to trail lazily across your abdomen. "If I'm being honest, I've been struggling to eat since I got here. For some reason I have no appetite or thirst."

"That would be a result of the immortality."

Your hands freeze up, brain doing the opposite as it spins out in a hundred directions.

"W-what did you say?" You stammer, praying you have misheard him.

"The immortality," he clarifies. "My power is within you and with it, comes certain endurances."

You sit up and put some space between you both. This was a serious matter. Despite your empty stomach you feel like you are going to vomit.

"How long have you known that?"

"It does not matter."

Red rag to a bull doesn't come close to covering what his dismissive reply makes you feel. The set of your jaw is so tight that a section on the left side begins to feather. You talk through gritted teeth, levelling a furious glare at him - making it transparent that you are not going to tolerate his evasiveness any longer:

"Tell me how long."

He makes the smart decision to pause to select his reply, though you decipher from the suddenly overcast sky that it is not going to be one that you will like.

"Since our souls joined."

Your hand flies to your chest, to your soul as tears start to brew.

"That was days ago!"

Morpheus simply looks at you.

"Did you not think that I had a right to know about something as life changing as that?"

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can issue a syllable.

"Please can you give me some time alone?"

Morpheus' intense stare - the one that had gone from intimidating to exhilarating - has now become distressing and you need to get out from under it.

To his credit, he does what you asked and the moment the door is closed, the tears you have been holding back start to flow freely. The ceiling sky is so crowded with dark clouds that you are convinced that it's going to do the same as your eyes.

You feel like you've been tricked. You didn't ask for this, nor were you consulted.

The gilding has fully tarnished now, revealing that things were too good to be true. And had been from the very beginning. You had been swept up in the haze of sexual satisfaction, too blinded by the soul bond to see clearly. The nightmare had spelled it out flawlessly: gullible, debased and without logical reasoning.

The previous success in derailing your self-loathing falls short now. You are bolting down the path of internal admonishment.

How could you have been so naïve?

The answer is your hubris. It had felt good to be finally wanted, chosen to be a part of something bigger than yourself by making a difference to the Dreaming. Unless you had misunderstood.

No, the Fates had told you it in no uncertain terms. What they hadn't done however was provide a time frame. You had stupidly assumed it would be effective immediately. Instead you could be looking at decades, centuries even with this newfound information.

Even with the promise of eventual fulfilment, there was little chance that you would last for years in this room with your sanity intact.

You need distraction from the demoralising thought so you bluster through your bathroom routine like a whirlwind, slamming containers down where possible and huffing out exasperated sounds.

While the gown has re-materialised on the hook by the shower, you are dead set against putting it back on. You go to the bedside table and dive into the drawers to find your clothes from the night of the award ceremony, uncovering the cigarettes and lighter you forgot had been hidden there.

You don't even think before lighting one up, hoping that the nicotine will take the edge off your despair. You are quick to finish it and the clarity it brings encourages you to have a second. And then a third.

From the combination of your reclined position on the sheets and the dainty way you hold each cigarette, you can't help but feel like a 1940s starlet. It injects a bit of delirious humour, and also gumption into the mix.

"You are not at fault here," you whisper out loud. "He is the one who has an understanding of how soulmates work. He withheld that. You are allowed to be pissed off with him and you should let him see it."

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

By the time Morpheus returns, you are in full possession of your wits and sit perched at the foot of the bed. You regard each other; he appears a touch drawn out, eyes subdued and a small line marking the space between his eyebrows.

"You have been smoking," he states flatly.

Buoyed by the confidence gifted to you by said activity, you inhale the scent of the lingering bluish fog, flashing a sardonic smile as you audibly breathe out, labouring the point with the pleasurable sigh.

"What else was I supposed to do while I waited for you to come back?" You cross your legs and smooth out a non-existent wrinkle in the bedclothes you meticulously rearranged.

The effects of your sarcasm are immediate; the air is becoming ominously dense, threatening to unleash a storm of epic proportions. Morpheus' fists clench and the pressure is dampened a fraction.

"Give them to me," he asks in a monotone.

"No."

Your connection is so devoid of dissonance at this point. Morpheus is stone carved. The kind of impenetrable that would shred and destroy finger nails; there is no point in trying to claw your way to the being beneath. The apathy sends your anger to new heights, compelling that shamefully vindictive part of you into lashing out. You want to hurt him just as he has hurt you.

"They're the only thing I have left from my real life."

A lethal quality seeps into his reply, "That life ended the moment you stepped out onto that street."

"Well then I should have run from you that night," you provoke further, tone biting as glacial ice on exposed skin.

The same shadows from before are crowding about his person, settling in his eyes - a tell that you have unleashed the nightmare form. You have to actively remind yourself to breathe at an even pace. All things you had queued up to say to him are long gone as you gaze upon his dark majesty.

"Even if you had been able to evade me, hide your physical body, I would have found you the moment you fell asleep."

The tether on his control slips as a single bolt of lightning turns the room to a white-out. The thunder never comes, instead the rumble of his voice.

"Do not think that I had not anticipated a refusal. I was more than prepared to use force to get what I wanted. What I was promised. I will not share you with anyone. You are mine. My soulmate. You -"

He stops unexpectedly and head snapping to look at the door.

You roll your eyes. "Let me guess, something requires your attention."

He takes in a deep breath. "I will return shortly."

You watch sullenly as he leaves you behind yet again, about to resume smoking when you feel an urge to re-examine the door. It is as pointless as before; no handle nor locks. Your fists hit the mahogany once, then twice before your composure fully deteriorates and you begin to hammer on it. Not because you are hoping to snag someone's awareness, for you heard it from Morpheus that no one could find this place. Sadly, you do it because you are losing hope.

Dejection momentarily quelled, you resort to staring at the door with such concentration that you fear it may trigger another headache.

"How the fuck do you work?" You ask it.

If there is no tangible way of holding it then that left the metaphysical as its locking mechanism. Metaphysical power that came from him - that now resided in you.

Maybe you could use it to break out...

You huff out a laugh at your optimism. There is no harm in trying.

Decision made, you make a quick trip to the bathroom to get the ruby ring you put by the sink. There's no chance you're escaping and leaving a beloved family heirloom behind.

You walk confidently to the door and plant yourself a forearm's length from it. The gold of the ring glimmers on your right hand as your press your palm to the glossy wood.

You do not want to be the person you were in the nightmare; forced into a box-encased void and cut off from the universe. You want to learn, to experience, to love. You want to have dreams and you're willing to make them with or without their master.

You are going to get out of here.

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

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

"I'm walking down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind. On the borderline of the edge, and where I walk alone."

[siriusblackslefttoenail]

Okay… so this is my first fic and idk how to feel about it. I just kept writing so feedback is welcome, just don't hate on me lol. I tried really hard but I didn't completely proofread it so I'm so sorry if it's messed up in some spots. Also, my first time writing smut so idk I'm sorry if it's horrible. I'm also not super experienced with Tumblr so I don't have fancy dividers or anything :( If someone actually likes what I write I'll figure it out and make it look pretty!!

WC: 7,290

Warnings: SMUT, fast burn there's like no wait time tbh, kinda mentions family death (very briefly), shitty parents mentioned, female character, Bluna mentioned as well as Draco x Pansy, head (female receives), if I forgot any please tell me!!

Summary: Mattheo Riddle meets a girl who captivates him the moment he sees her. She doesn't recognize him until he tells her who he is. The tension breaks and they finally get together!

MUSE

Mattheo knew he was fucked from the moment he knew who and what his father was. Well, he was even more fucked when he had an older brother who was his dad’s right-hand man.

Don’t think that Tom and Uncle Lucius left Mattheo alone because of his lack of respect towards his father. It honestly made his life harder. Always had to sneak out for a smoke instead of just walking through the front door.

Currently, Mattheo is sneaking out through his window from the third floor of Malfoy Manor. He hasn’t yet decided if he wants to go to the roof or leave the grounds completely. The roof would be a safer bet.

Hoisting himself up to the roof he silently thanks his younger self for deciding to join quidditch. He wouldn’t have been able to make it anywhere if he didn’t have muscles.

Finally finding his regular spot he sits and lays his legs out. Takes the pack of cigarettes he’s got from his pocket and lights one with the lighter Theo gave him for his birthday a year ago.

He knew the lighter would soon run out of fuel and he’d need to get a new one. Being in 6th year Mattheo isn’t able to use his wand to light the cigarette so he resorts to the muggle lighters. He has to find a way to get muggle cash though.

While Mattheo’s smoking he hears a door slam. That can’t be good, usually, he’s the one slamming doors. He scoots to the edge of the roof and sees Tom standing on the front lawn. He’s probably looking for Mattheo.

While Mattheo quickly moves back to his spot he hears a girl's voice.

“Dad, I’ll be fine. As I said I know a boy here. He won’t do anything, just figure out your business deal and we can leave.”

Moving back to his previous spot to peer over the roof he sees you. Some girl getting out of a car he doesn’t know the brand of, in this black leather skirt and black long-sleeve top. The top of your boobs spill over lightly showing how tight the shirt is.

Fucking hell, who the fuck is this? Mattheo is questioning whether he should get down or not, that is until he sees Tom walk over to you and shake your hand.

“Tom, it’s good to see you again.” You’re talking to his brother, and you know him? Why doesn’t Mattheo know you? Are you in the same year as Tom?

“It’s good to see you too,” Tom responds and Mattheo watches as the two of you walk inside with your father.

****

Walking into Malfoy Manor I try to remember what Pansy told me about it. It’s old, practically prehistoric as Pansy said. Looking over to my right I see Tom, the same boy who helped me with Advanced Potions last year.

“Thanks for keeping me company while my dad works things out with Mr Malfoy.” I smile at him and he looks at me with the same stoic expression as always. Better than a grimace or a frown I suppose.

Both Tom and I hear footsteps coming down the staircase that’s to our left and turn to see a handsomely built curly-haired boy walk down in black Converse and an all-black outfit.

“That’s my younger brother, Mattheo,” Tom explains, sensing my confusion. Younger brother? How much younger? He’s fucking hot.

“Hi, I’m y/n” I introduce myself as he walks closer. He doesn’t look like Tom at all. Tom is very tall and skinny meanwhile Mattheo is thick and more short, he actually has muscle on him.

“Y/n that’s a pretty name.” He responds shaking my outstretched hand. I smile and give him a small thanks.

“I didn’t know you had a brother Tom.”

“I thought everyone did.” Tom just shrugs and keeps walking to the living room. We follow behind him and sit down on a big black leather couch that’s settled in front of a marble fireplace.

“I’m going into my sixth year,” Mattheo tells me and I smile.

“Why don’t I know you? I’m going into sixth too!”

“How do you know Tom then?”

“Oh, he helped me in Advanced Potions last year.”

“You were in 6th year advanced potions?” While he asks me with wide eyes I just nod and give Tom a smile. He’s not looking at me he’s looking straight at Mattheo. I’m guessing from the tension between them, that they’re not close.

“I play quidditch, I’m on the Slytherin team, I play as a beater.”

“Ah! You’re friends with Draco!” I finally recognize him. He just nods and looks away from me.

“I was partnered with Draco last year in Transfiguration. As well as Nott in Defense Against The Dark Arts!” I don’t know how I never noticed how handsome he was until I was right in front of him.

“Oh yeah, Theo’s my best friend.” Mattheo smiles and scratches his neck.

“Yes, he talked about you a lot. I just didn’t know you were related to Tom or what you looked like exactly. That’s why I didn’t recognize you.” All Mattheo does is nod and I hear Tom chuckle.

“Mattheo is too busy listening to his music and drawing in that silly book of his to even lift his head. I don’t blame you for not knowing who he was, he’s hardly there.” I look at Tom and then back at Mattheo who looks upset.

“What music do you listen to?” I ask moving closer to Mattheo. He releases a wide smile and we start talking about The Smiths and Queen, as well as The Cure. He seems sweet.

“I can’t believe I met a girl who listens to the same music as me.” Mattheo laughs incredulously.

I laugh with him and we notice how Tom got up and left the room. I look at Mattheo and he just shrugs.

“He’s moody. Maybe he’s jealous you’re paying more attention to me.” Mattheo says smirking at me.

“Why would he be jealous? What’s special about me?” I ask, confused

“Because you’re the only girl who talks to him. Well, that and you’re also attractive so it hurts his ego more.” Mattheo chuckles when he’s done talking and I look at him like he’s insane.

“Tom riddle thinking I’m attractive? What has the world come to?” I seriously ask but Mattheo laughs

“Well, it’s very rare to see a girl with Tom so he’ll try to flirt with you but you wouldn’t even know because he’s so bad at it. It must've stung him when you preferred his younger brother over him.” Mattheo is still laughing and I give an awkward chuckle.

“Well, there’s always other people out there for him. Just not me.” I say chuckling along with Mattheo

“Oh, you’re not? Who are you for, y/n?” Mattheo moves his face closer to mine laughing, I get nervous and look away.

“Well, I’m not sure yet but I know it’s not him.”

“Why not Tom?”

“He’s too... uptight and studious. I’m more laid back and I care about my grades but not as much as him. He also doesn’t like muggle things and I plan on living in the muggle world when I graduate.”

“You do? Why?”

“I’m not sure, I think they have brilliant ideas and inventions and I believe the muggle world has more to offer than the wizarding world.”

“I guess you’re right, where in the muggle world would you live?”

“Hmm, probably a big city like New York or Chicago.”

“Oh so in America?”

“Yes, America. I want to go around the States, they have so many beautiful things there.” Mattheo just nods and looks at the dancing fire in the dug-out marble fireplace.

“Y/n let’s go, I’ve finished.” I hear my dad behind me and both Mattheo and I turn to see him.

“Okay, Dad,” I say, rising from the couch and going to stand next to him.

“Nice to meet you, Tom.” My father says to Mattheo.

“Oh no, Dad that’s his younger brother Mattheo.” I laugh slightly

“Oh. Well, tell your brother it was nice meeting him.”

“Yes sir,” Mattheo responds getting up from the couch and walking to the front door to lead us out.

“Thanks, Mattheo, I’ll see you at school,” I say touching his arm lightly before walking out of the house. I swear I see his face blush and I feel heat pool in my stomach. Definitely need to get closer to him.

****

Boarding the train from summer break is always the worst. The station is always too stuffy and cramped. Then you get on the train and it’s even hotter. I’m waving my hand in front of my face in my compartment when the door opens and reveals Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson, my closest friends.

“It’s so hot in this god-forsaken train. You’d think with magic you could cool down a train.” Pansy complains sitting down and wiping her hairline.

I laugh and try to open the train window. Thank god this compartment has a working window. Both Daphne and I sigh as the window opens.

“Oh thank Merlin!” Daphne says moving closer to the window. We always get closer to the front of the train so we don’t have to see students and their families. It’s always too much noise.

The cabin door opening surprises us all.

“Hey, ladies!” Theodore Nott says placing himself right next to my thigh.

“Oh no no no. No way, it’s too hot in the train for the six of you to sit in here with us!” Pansy says pulling Theo up from his spot and pushing him back towards the door.

Draco laughs and puts Theo back next to me and sits next to Pansy.

“You’ll be alright love,” Draco smirks and places his arm around Pansy. She just groans and rolls her eyes knowing it’s no use trying to tell them to leave. I look back towards the door and Blaise has taken his spot next to Daphne and the wall.

Mattheo stands awkwardly with Tom, both of them looking at me. Lorenzo finds the spot next to Theo and both Tom and Mattheo roll their eyes.

They have to sit next to each other and not even by the window. All of our legs rub against each other as the two of them squeeze in.

“Holy shit, can you move over?” Mattheo asks Enzo and Theo.

“Not really no,” Lorenzo responds laughing. Mattheo groans and sits in between Daphne and Pansy.

“Oh!” Daphne says as Mattheo slightly shoves her into Blaise.

“Sorry.” He mumbles and looks out the window.

“So, how were everyone’s summers?” I ask lightly trying to diffuse the tension in the small compartment.

Blaise and Theo start to speak at the same time and eventually agree Theo can speak first.

“Mine was surprisingly very exciting, I went back to Italy by myself to visit my mother's side of the family for the first time since she passed, and my dad was gone almost the whole summer so I was able to do whatever I wanted without being berated!” I could tell in Theo’s voice he was hurting, he was being sarcastic to cover up his sadness about being alone and his mother passing.

When I was partnered with him last year he had opened up a bit and we would talk. I told him about my dad and he told me about his, he also told me about how his mother passed and it truly was a horrible death. I can’t even imagine how 10-year-old Theo coped with that.

Blaise speaks up next and explains how he had to go to his mom’s wedding for his 4th stepfather. He seems pretty over the whole stepdad thing, I mean if I had 4 I would be too. Blaise tells us how he got to go on a muggle cruise in the Caribbean. They stopped in the Bahamas and Cuba. He at least seemed very pleased with the trip his stepfather provided.

“That sounds nice Blaise,” I say smiling, my summer was pretty shitty but I don’t think anyone will ask if everyone says theirs first.

“How about yours?” Theo asks, everyone turning to me.

“Oh-ha it was good. Nothing special.” I try really hard not to sound like I’m lying but I think they all see through it.

“No seriously y/n, how was your summer?” Pansy asks her leg nudging mine lightly.

“I don’t wanna talk about it Pans.”

“Oh okay, no problem.” I look away when she says this so I don’t have to make eye contact with any of them. I don’t want to talk about the fight I had with my dad or the situationship I had with my neighbor.

I look out the window for the beginning of the train ride. I look around the cabin and everyone is either entertaining themselves or talking with someone. Mattheo is drawing with headphones on.

I lift my foot and nudge his shin. He looks up and I nod my head toward the cabin door, hinting at him for us to go somewhere else. He nods at me and puts his headphones away. I nudge his shin again and hint at him to bring the headphones.

“I’m going to the bathroom; I’ll be back,” I say, standing up and slightly running my hand over Mattheo’s shoulder on my way out. I walk away from the cabin door to be out of sight. I watch as Mattheo gets up without saying anything, sketchbook and headphones in hand.

“What’s up?” He asks following me as I move through the aisle.

“I wanted to be with you one on one, you have a problem with that Riddle?”

“No ma’am,” I smirk when he says that, he’s so sassy. I find an empty compartment (surprisingly) and sit down on the bench to the left of the door, Mattheo sits across from me on the other.

“What were you listening to?” I ask laying my legs out on the bench, sitting sideways.

“Just a mix of mine.”

“I’m asking what song, Riddle,” I smirk at him as he adjusts his position, putting his sketchbook beside him.

“Oh, Bigmouth Strikes Again by The Smiths.” I nod at him and reach to grab his Walkman and headphones.

He lets go of them and lets me put the headphones on, I hit the play button and hear the music through the speakers. The volume is at the highest it could be set to.

“Why do you keep the volume so high?” I ask taking the Walkman off and giving it back to him.

“I don’t know, don’t like hearing anything else. I guess.” He shrugs and puts the Walkman beside him as well. I nod and look at his Converse, there are black drawings on the soles of them.

“What do you draw?” I ask looking back up at him, nodding to his shoes and the sketchbook.

“Not much, just people and landscapes, sometimes random objects.” He shrugs again and looks away from me to his shoes. I can’t tell if it’s out of embarrassment or something else.

“Can I see?”

“What?”

“Could I see your drawings?” I ask again

“Uh sure, I guess, if you want.” He grabs his sketchbook and hands it to me. I open a random page and rest the book on my lap. The page I opened has a bird on it, a raven or maybe a crow. I skip to the next page and see a detailed snake wrapped around an old-looking book. He’s very talented.

“You’re good at drawing.” I look up at him and see the apples of his cheeks turn rosy.

“Thanks.”

“I gotta give credit where it’s due.” I chuckle and move to another page. This one has a girl on it, I haven’t seen her before but I guess it could be anyone since it’s a side profile.

“Do you draw anyone specific?”

“Not really, it’s usually just people I think of in my head. I’ve drawn Blaise and Theo before though.”

“Could you draw me?”

“What?” He stutters in awe

“I asked if you could draw me, if not I get it. I’m not much of a muse but your drawings are beautiful and I’d like to see how you view me. I’ve always wanted to be good at drawing.” I smile at him and hand his book back.

“Um, I’d love to draw you. I could teach you some small things too if you’d like.” I see him get nervous slightly and it makes me laugh lightly.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me Mattheo, I’m not going to bite unless you ask me to.” I joke and give him a playful wink before looking out at the mountains through the window.

“I’m not nervous!” He defends himself quickly and clears his throat. I just give a small laugh and get up to sit next to him.

“I’m not gonna judge you Mattheo.” I move his Walkman and sketchbook before sitting down.

“I know, I never thought you would.”

“I like you. You’re cute.”

“What?”

“You’re sweet, I think you’re cool.” I worded it differently this time realizing that it sounded like I fancied him.

“Oh.” He almost seems disappointed when I clarify myself. I look him in the eyes and this is the closest we’ve been since the beginning of summer. He’s pretty to look at.

He has a scar running across the bridge of his nose and a scar through his eyebrow. I wonder if they have something to do with his dad. I don’t ask because we’re not that close yet and if he wants to tell me he will. I find his scars attractive.

“I like your scars,” I say running my finger over the one on his nose.

“Really?”

“Yeah, they make you look badass.” We both laugh and I trace the other small scars with my finger. There’s one on his cheek and one by his eye. I hope they don’t have anything to do with his dad.

“You’re not gonna ask where I got them?”

“No, because if you want to tell me you will. I won’t push.” He just smiles at me and his big brown eyes almost shine as he looks at me. Our faces are so close his nose is almost touching mine. I clear my throat and move back towards the window.

“We should probably head back.” I hear him say and grab his things.

“Yeah.” I get up and follow him through the train to get back to the compartment. When we get there we see Pansy asleep on Draco’s shoulder and Daphne talking with Theo and Enzo. Blaise and Tom are doing their thing. They all look up beside Pansy when we walk in.

“Where were you guys?” Theo asks moving towards Tom to give me my spot back.

“We took a walk,” I respond, sitting down and smiling at Enzo and Theo.

“Oh okay. Tom told us you listen to the same music as Mattheo.” Draco tells me

“I do, we talked about it when I saw him and Tom over the summer.”

“When were you over during the summer?” Draco asks since they also live in Malfoy Manor.

“It was at the beginning of the summer, my dad had a business deal with your dad so I accompanied him.”

“Oh, I must’ve been with Pansy.” As Draco says that Mattheo confirms and says Draco was with Pansy that day.

“Well, that’s a good thing that someone likes the same things as mattheo,” Enzo says smiling at me

“Whys that?” Mattheo lets out, nudging Enzo with his Converse.

“You get lonely sometimes when we hang out with other people. Like Blaise and Luna, Draco and Pansy.” Enzo responds

“So you’re saying a girlfriend,” I ask Enzo

“Kind of? But you don’t have to date for you guys to be friends. It’s just having someone that’s not us, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” I respond smiling at Mattheo. He doesn't meet my gaze.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts soon,” Blaise says looking out the window. I nod and grab my bag from under the seat to put it in my lap.

****

Sitting in the great hall was always lonely because I’m a Ravenclaw and many Ravenclaws don’t like me because of my father’s reputation. I usually sit by myself since other house students can’t sit with each other. It’s a stupid rule, they want us to connect but we can’t sit together? Make it make sense.

I look up from my spot and look for Daphne and Pansy at their table but instead of seeing them, I see Mattheo looking at me. I give a small wave and a smile. He smiles back and it's the first time I've seen him smile. Seeing it now makes me want to see it all the time, I want him to smile constantly especially if it's at me.

I've always thought most Slytherin Quidditch players were attractive. I guess I never noticed Mattheo’s name and more of him physically. He was always attractive I just didn't know who he was directly other than the second Slytherin Quidditch beater.

I rest my head on my palm and wait for Dumbledore to stop talking and start the feast. The first year sorting always takes about half an hour so we sit here for a while before we even get to eat.

It's really annoying, I just want to eat my favorite meal; pasta with vodka sauce, meatballs, and garlic bread.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and it’s a little girl.

“Hello,” I say giving her a confused smile.

“Do you mind if I sit with you? I get it if you don't want a first-year sitting next to you.” This little 11-year-old girl is asking to sit with me and expects me to say no, she's the sweetest-looking kid ever.

“Of course, you can sit next to me,” I reply, and her face lights up and she sits to my left. “I'm y/n,” I say smiling

“I'm Charlotte.” She gives me a bright smile as Dumbledore finishes his speech and the food appears on the tables. She's so cute.

I scoop myself some pasta and meatballs and put it on my plate, offering some to Charlotte. She agrees and tells me it's her favorite.

“It's my favorite too!” I say grabbing two pieces of garlic bread

“Can I have garlic bread- Thank you!” She asks right as I give her the second piece I picked up.

We eat and chat and she tells me about her younger brothers and how she's a half-blood. I nod along and talk when I should.

While talking about the school and classes, I offer to help her around the castle the first couple of days since it's such a big school.

After dinner, we get up and I show her to the Ravenclaw common room, telling her the classrooms and bathrooms as we pass them. I tell her you have to solve a riddle to open the door to the common room and she seemed nervous about it.

That was until we got to the door and she got the riddle before I did. She laughed at me and I laughed back telling her how smart she is.

Look, I know she's 11 and she's almost a teenager but I don't think treating someone so young like they're already grown up is right. I don't want her childhood to end because people expect so much from her.

I grew up in a household where if you didn't understand what was going on it wasn't going to be baby-fied. You had to figure it out on your own. Now, I don't know how to ask for help or admit that I'm not doing well to other people.

So if I can help this one girl know that it's okay to be childish sometimes I'll be happy. As long as she knows school isn't about just learning, it's about finding out who you are and the people who deserve to be around you. It took me too long to figure that out.

I show Charlotte the dorms and we find hers so I can drop her off and let her unpack, I tell her I'll see her in the common room in the morning before breakfast.

Walking out of the common room I go all the way down to the dungeons, it's a regular thing that Pansy, Daphne, and I celebrate the new school year with each other. They're probably bringing their boyfriends so I guess I could ask mattheo if he isn't going already.

I say the password to the Slytherin common room and walk up to the girl's dormitories. Finding Pansy and Daphne’s I knock and wait for one of them to open the door. Daphne opens it and gives me a hug.

“How was dinner?” she asks me while going back to sit on her bed.

“It was good, I made friends with this little first year in Ravenclaw.”

“Awe is she cute?”

“She is actually. She seems very smart.”

“Wow, shocker,” Pansy says laughing while coming out of the bathroom with wet hair.

“We've been over this Pans, being in Ravenclaw doesn't automatically make you smart.” I roll my eyes and sit on Daphne’s bed.

Pansy just laughs and takes black nail polish out of her bedside table.

“Is Draco and Theo coming to the hangout tonight?” I ask leaning on Daphne’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you gonna ask Riddle to come?” Pansy asks wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“I might, he's cute.”

“And super strong!” Daphne says giggling

“He is strong but he's cuter, drawing and listening to music is so sweet. Boys don't do that anymore.” I say smiling at the ceiling thinking about Mattheo.

“Well you should probably go and tell him now if you want him to come.” Pansy says now applying the nail polish to her fingers and toes. I get up and nod.

“Alright, I'll be back.”

Leaving their dorm and walking to the boys’ dorms feels weird. I never go to boys’ dorms. I've never hooked up with any of the boys at Hogwarts so I don't go to the boys’ side ever.

I look at all the metal nameplates on the front of the wooden doors to each dormitory trying to find Riddle.

“You lost pretty girl?” I hear someone ask behind me. I turn quickly and see Marcus Flint.

“Not particularly, thanks, Flint,” I say turning forwards and returning to look for Mattheo’s name.

I finally find it and knock on the door. I hear shuffling behind the wood and then a muffled “fuck”.

Mattheo opens the door slightly peeking his head out and sees me.

“Oh, y/n, do you need something?”

“I just had a question but if you're busy I could come back.” I say pointing back to where I came from.

“No no, I'm not busy. Give me two seconds I have to put pants on.” I nod and he closes the door. Wait, put pants on? Was he pantless while he opened the door? I feel my face flush and I just look at my shoes until I hear the door open again.

I look up and mattheo is in grey sweatpants and shirtless. My mouth salivates just looking at him, holy shit.

“Alright, sorry about that. Come in.” he opens the door wider and kicks something into the closet beside the door.

“Don't be sorry.” I reply looking around his room. He has a triangular Slytherin flag above his bed and a The Smiths poster next to his desk. I smile as I look at it and then turn towards him and the door. The whole wall is covered in sketches that must be from an old sketchbook of his.

“Oh wow. I love this wall.” I say walking closer to it and looking at all the sketches.

“Thanks, they're old though, from last year and even before then.” I nod to his words and remember what I came here to ask him.

“Oh, right, I was wondering if you wanted to come to Pansy and Daphne’s dorm to hang out for the new school year with us, Draco, and Theo?” I feel my cheeks heat up as I ask him.

“Oh, like as your date?” he scratches his neck and I feel regret seep into my bones.

“Um, not necessarily! Just to hang out if you'd like to. I mean you could consider yourself my date or not it doesn't matter.” My face gets redder with every word I speak. I'm embarrassing myself.

“I would love to be your date for a hang out.” he chuckles and I smile at him

“Oh really? Thank god I was so scared you were gonna make fun of me or something.” I say laughing my anxieties off.

“No, I would never turn down a pretty girl's invite to hang out with her.” I blush as he says this and his smile broadens. I love his smile.

“I adore your smile,” I say slightly tilting my head at him.

“Oh, you do?” he asks, self-consciously.

“I do.” I smile

“Thank you.” his cheeks turn red as well as his neck. I rake my eyes across his body and notice the slight bulge in his pants. Fucking hell. He notices me staring and smirks.

“What's wrong y/l/n?” he taunts, moving closer to me. My face warms and I try not to look back down at his pants.

“Nothing’s wrong Riddle,” I respond, I can feel my thighs rubbing together.

“You sure? Looks like you're a bit… flustered.”

I let out a choked laugh and moved backward into his desk. I grip the edge of the table and make eye contact with him. His already dark eyes have deepened and I could've sworn lust was swirling through his pupils.

“Nope, I'm all good Riddle.” I say, standing up straighter. I'm not going to back out and cower that's not who I am.

“Alright, whatever you say y/l/n,” he responds chuckling, hands in mock surrender.

“Are you doing alright?” I ask back to see if I can give him the same effect.

“As good as new, thanks for asking,” he smirks

“You're sure?” I press

“I mean, I'm a bit warm but that's about it.” his smirk deepens now

“Warm how?”

“I'm warm as in overheating, darling.”

“Ahh, see I'm not hot and I'm in a jumper, you're shirtless, what's making you so warm Mattheo?”

“Well, I have a very sexy woman in front of me and she's not taking a hint so I'm getting a bit impatient.” my eyes widen and my cheeks flush even darker.

“What hint?” I ask

“The hint that I want to bend her over and fuck her right on the desk she's leaning on,” Mattheo says with such confidence that I feel my legs weaken.

“You what?” I whisper, completely stunned

“You need me to repeat myself? Or can I show you what I'm hinting at?”

“You can show me.” I look up at him as he stalks closer to me. His large hand grips my waist and I feel his body heat making me flush even warmer.

“You okay with this?” he asks before going any further. I nod and he shakes his head at me.

“Words darling, I need words.”

“Yes, I'm okay with this.” He smiles and lowers himself to his knees. My eyes widen and my legs unconsciously part for him. He continues to look up at me while he pulls my skirt down as well as my underwear.

While I step out of my skirt and underwear I watch him look down at my vagina as well as my arousal dripping down my thighs. His tongue wipes against his lips and he smiles up at me.

“Can I?” he asks

“Yes, please Mattheo.” I practically whine to him. He immediately moves his face in between my legs and licks a stripe on my folds. I lean my head back and whine out loud.

“Ohh gods Mattheo” I feel my legs buckle and his strong arm wraps around my waist to keep me up.

His tongue splits my folds and goes to my clit, while he smears my arousal around his fingers inch up my thigh, and pokes at my anticipating hole. I look down at him and he's already looking at me.

While he laps at my clit his pointer finger pushes through my hole and straight to as far as his finger could go. I moan and rock my hips against his face, needing the friction. He adds his middle finger and my head indistinctly rolls back against my shoulder.

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten and I know I'm close. I beg Mattheo to go faster and he complies. His fingers squelch while pushing in and out of me. This is the most pleasure I've ever felt, what will it feel like when he's in me?

I'm a whining mess until Mattheo pulls his face back and kisses my thighs.

“Noo, go back!!” I beg and try to push my hips back against his face.

“Patience sweet girl. I'll make you feel good I promise.” I whine and wiggle my hips to make his fingers move in me again.

“Please Mattheo!” I beg him and I feel my eyes well up with tears.

He looks up at me with a frown and stands, pulling his fingers out of me causing me to cry out. He kisses me and I can taste myself on his lips. He grasps my waist and picks me up, setting me on his bed.

I look at him and he's untying his sweatpants. Oh, thank god. I tug at his arms and start to wrap them around me. After he's completely bare other than his boxers I lift my blouse up and drop it to the floor.

He moves closer to me and gives me a passionate kiss. While he distracts me he easily unclips my bra and takes it off my arms. Reaching down to put it on the floor he comes back up, hands resting on my breasts. His forefinger and thumb rubbing my nipples between them.

My head leans back while I groan. His mouth comes to my neck and leaves sloppy kisses against it. He starts to suck on my collar bone and I know it's going to leave a mark. To be honest I'm not that upset about that fact.

“Fuck Matt I need you,” I whine grabbing one of his hands off my breast and in between my thighs, trying to relieve the pain of my lust.

“Alright, princess I got you.” his boxers drop, and my hands immediately reach for his cock. While he kisses me again I rub my thumb over his tip to gather his pre cum to lube up his dick. He groans into my mouth and bucks into my hand.

“Fuck, can't take it.” he takes my hands off him and lays me back against his plush duvet. He grips my legs and rests them on each of his shoulders. I see him look around the room and I get confused.

“What are looking for?” I groan, wiggling my hips to his.

“A pillow.” he drops my legs softly and grabs one of his pillows from the top of his bed. He walks back over and puts it underneath my back.

“There.” he says picking my legs back up onto his shoulders and kisses my thighs. I whine again when his tip teases against my clit. I'm getting impatient.

“Mattheo please-” right as I say that he thrusts into me and I feel like I've been split in half. We both let out groans and he leans his head against my thigh.

“Fucking hell,” he moans, sucking onto my thigh

Meanwhile, I'm adjusting to the size of his dick inside of me. I'm panting and watching him suck and nibble on my thighs.

“Move, please” I beg, out of breath, he complies and slowly leaves me before thrusting back into me before I could even register he left me in the first place.

Mattheo sets a quick pace while watching my tits move up and down on my chest. He's mumbling to himself and biting into my thigh until he leans down and takes my left nipple into his mouth. While I'm groaning he takes his left hand and reaches between us to lightly tease my clit.

“Ohhh Mattheo I'm so close!” I whine gripping onto his hair that's in my face. He moves away from my chest and gives me a hasty and wet kiss against my lips.

“Wait baby, can you do that for me?” he asks taking his free hand and pressing down on my lower tummy. His cock bruising my cervix. The action makes me throw my head back and cry out.

“Shhh pretty girl I know I know” he eases upon my clit focusing on his pace and how much aggression he puts into each thrust.

“Can you wait for me, baby?” he asks again, and I nod breathlessly

“Y-es I can, I can,” I whine and reach for him and he picks his hand up from my abdomen and interlaces our hands together.

“Baby, I'm close, where do you want me to cum?” he asks slowing his pace a bit

“I don't care! Anywhere!” I'm so close and him slowing is leaving me on the edge.

“Sweetheart this is your decision.” he's also breathless as he speaks to me

“In me! In me please!” I beg with wide eyes, I feel warm tears run down my cheeks

“Okay, sweet girl.” he fastens his pace and I'm moaning so loudly I already know his dorm neighbors can hear me.

I'm so close, the knot in my stomach quickly coming undone and I squeeze his hand as I cum over his cock. My pussy clenched and it makes him lay his forehead on mine and shoot his load inside of me, painting my walls with a sticky white.

He stays inside of me as we both pant and catch our breath. He's lying on my chest and I can feel his cum dripping down and onto his pillow.

He lifts his head and smiles at me.

“Stay like this,” he demands quietly and pulls out of me, causing me to whine out and he presses a fast kiss on my lips before quickly walking to his desk and grabbing his sketchbook and pencil.

“What are you doing?” I ask sitting up

“No no! I said stay like this!” he pushed me bsck down lightly and sat beside me. He opens his sketchbook and quickly starts to draw.

“Are you drawing me?” I ask incredulously

“Mhm, you're my muse.” he responds without even looking up at me. I feel myself flush at his words and then I feel his cum dripping out and making me sticky and uncomfortable.

“Matty,” I whisper making him look up at me

“Can we clean up first? I feel sticky.”

“Oh shit yeah, I'm sorry.” he drops his sketchbook beside me and rushes to the bathroom connected to his dorm to get a warm washcloth to clean my legs up.

I whine softly at the touch, still sensitive. He shushes me quietly and kisses the bite marks he left on my thighs. They're already turning a dark shade of red.

He fixes himself up and then grabs my underwear and puts them back on me slowly. He walks to his closet and takes out a green Slytherin shirt and asks me to sit up so he can put it on me. I lift my arms and he lets it fall on me. He steps back and mumbles something to himself.

“Hm?” I ask laying back down

“What?” he asks

“What did you say to yourself just now?”

He flushes before saying,

“Oh, I said you looked beautiful in my shirt. You're perfect to be my muse.” I smile and open my arms for him to lie with me. He welcomes my embrace and kisses my neck softly.

“Well, I can pose for you now, if you'd like.”

“Yes,” he says with enthusiasm and moves back to his position from before

We sit there for about 15 minutes in a comfortable silence before he tells me he's finished. He flips the sketchbook for me to see and its probably the most beautiful drawing I've ever seen.

“That's how you see me?” I ask, in disbelief

“Yes, absolutely stunning.” I blush and give him a big kiss on the cheek

“Such a gentleman Mattheo Riddle.” I smile and lean back to lie down on his bed.

“What time do we need to go to Daphne and Pansy’s?” he asks putting his sketchbook away. I sit up quickly with a gasp.

“Oh my god!! I totally forgot!” I say getting up and rushing to put my skirt on.

“Hey hey, it's okay, it's only 10.” I look at him with wide eyes

“We need to go right now,” I say grabbing his hand.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” he asks grabbing my shirt and my bra. I roll my eyes and wave him off

“Why are you acting like I won't be back after the hangout? You don't want me here?” I joke with him but he takes it seriously, eyes going wide and stumbling over his words

“Of course not! I didn't know you'd want to come back!” I look at him and laugh.

“Why wouldn't I want to come back??” I ask in disbelief

He just shrugs and looks away. I pull his arm lightly and remind him we have to go. He nods and we quickly walk to their dorm. We knock on the door and Theo opens it.

“Well well well, look who decided to arrive!” he says opening the door more to show the rest of the group. Daphne looks at the hickey on my neck with wide eyes and gets up to inspect it.

“Umm Mr. Riddle care to explain yourself?” she asks, jokingly

“She's my muse.”

“Your muse?” Draco asks

“Yes my muse, she's the most perfect thing for me to draw.” he smiles holding me close to him while we walk into the dorm.

“I didn't know THE Mattheo riddle had feelings other than anger and boredom!” Pansy laughs at her own joke as well as the others. Mattheo just glares at them and I smile up at him.

“Well, don't let us ruin your fun night! Go have fun, wear protection though!” pansy says getting up and pushing us out of their dorm. She closes the door on our faces and we just look at each other. Mattheo shrugs and picks me up bridal style. I squeal and laugh lightly.

He walks us to his dorm and lies me back down onto his bed against his pillows. He takes the pillow we fucked on and puts it in his hamper. He lies down next to me and pulls me into his chest. I breathe in his cologne and I immediately feel like I'm home.

“Do you feel like you've known me for years or is it just me?” I ask looking up at him.

“No, I feel it too.” he responds kissing my forehead. I feel my eyes get droopy and Mattheo starts to play with the ends of my hair.

“Rest, sweet girl, I'll be here when you wake up” he kisses my forehead again and I feel myself drift off, happy for the first time in a while.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi! It's been about a year since I've read any Klaine fic so I'm hoping y'all can recommend some of your favorite fics from this past year or any that you're currently reading. I hope y'all have had a great holiday season. Thanks!

There's about 260 entries for finished works for Klaine on A03 for 2024!, if you want to look at the full list.

I'll give you a list of some I've read and enjoyed. (One fic per author!). I haven't included the fics from the Christmas events.

Swords and sands by @exquisitetragicthing

Ancient Rome AU, 73 years BC.

Blaine and Kurt are enslaved in the same grand villa in Capua, 125 miles south of Rome. Blaine is a renowned gladiator known for his unmatched skill in the arena. Kurt is their master’s treasured body slave and performer. In a time where their love could be as dangerous as the sword, they find themselves instantly and irrevocably drawn to each other.

~~~~~

Twelve Strikes And You're Perfect by @sarkyblueeyes

Kurt has been in a friendly ten-pin bowling rivalry with his dad for 7 years, but his winning streak hits a snag when a gorgeous employee starts working at the bowling alley. Blaine has an ass that could roll a strike every time, and a terrible habit of bending over at inconvenient times. As well-meaning but hapless acquaintances conspire to push them together, will Kurt finally pluck up the courage to ask out his summer crush?

~~~~~

Leaps and dives by @annepi-blog

As the 2024 Paris Olympics unfold, gymnast Blaine Anderson and diver Kurt Hummel find themselves navigating more than just their athletic dreams. Blaine, focused on his second chance at Olympic glory, crosses paths with Kurt, a newcomer to the world of professional diving with extraordinary talent. What begins as a chance encounter blossoms into something neither of them expected.

~~~~~

fire island follies @bitbybitwrites

From a Tumblr Friday Ficlet prompt from bowtiesandboatshoes : "We're going to Fire Island.  It's like gay Disney World."

Title is from an actual burlesque/cabaret show: The Fire Island Follies

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Took a sugar cookie from his heart by wavingthroughawindow @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

Anon Prompt: what about single dads!klaine whose first "date" happens when they schedule a playdate for their two preschool aged kids?? just something cute and fluffy at one of their homes or a park or something?

Kurt Hummel's daughter has a playdate with Blaine Anderson's son and Things blooms unexpectedly between the single dads.

~~~~~

Seven by @scatter-the-stars

How far would you go for someone you love? For Kurt, that means doing the unimaginable. But if it means saving his dad, he's willing to take that risk. A risk that has him leaving his home to go states away to spend a week with the last person he ever expected to meet. Over the course of the next seven days, things don't go as planned, or thought.

Can seven days change everything?

~~~~~~

Undiscovered by @heartsmadeofbooks

All Blaine Anderson needs is a little help to put himself through school. That’s all. But he’s going to get so much more than he hoped for when he meets Kurt Hummel, the successful, sexy workaholic who in turn needs someone to make the loneliness disappear. ~~~~~

Annotations of the heart by @gleefulpoppet

Amid a period of healing solitude, Blaine crosses paths with Kurt, an inquisitive journalist. What begins as a casual conversation over an annotated book in a café becomes a blazing fire between their hearts. As the layers of their connection deepen, they learn to navigate the complexities of love, loss, and identity, unraveling a poignant tale that transcends the unexpected boundaries of their pasts.

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Unexpected By @kurtsascot

Blaine’s infatuated with his TA from last semester.

He also spills hot coffee on him.

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Tumblr ask box prompts by @cryscendo

Kisses - various one shots - mostly Klaine!

~~~~~

The cute guy from the bar By @caramelcoffeeaddict Coffeeaddict80

A few days after moving to New York, Kurt decided to explore the city but ended up getting lost. He doesn't know anyone else in the city, so when he sees the name "Cute Guy From The Bar" in his phone, Kurt calls him for help. Luckily, Blaine is more than willing to be Kurt's personal tour guide around New York.

Enjoy! Jen