#whoever the fuck else is in fall out boi i forgot

[johnnyburntcake]

the lryic "they call kids like us vicious and carved out of stone" by fall out boi is so real like no one could understand unless you know yk

[grapejuicestyless]

Night Shift

Harry Styles x Fem!ex best friend reader

Summery: the song Night Shift

The first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit

I mistakenly called them by your name

I was let down it wasn't the same

“Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck.” I wiped my lips subconsciously, trying to dry the spit from the boy that vaguely resembled my best friend. Same color hair, same color eyes but somehow less beautiful on the random boy than the one I wanted.

I picked at my skin, my thumb scratching at my hangnails until they bled from the cuticles down my knuckles.

It was always like this. I convince myself I’m fine and go out for drinks. But as soon as I’m not fully sober, he comes back to me like a not as distant memory as I thought he was. I end up wiping my mouth and bleeding on my dress, leaving whoever was there in the bathroom as I make a b-line for the exit.

I'm doing fine, trying to derail my one track mind

Regaining my self-worth in record time

But I can't help but think of your other in the bed that was mine

So again, I walk the street way past my self set curfew and destroying any self respect I’d scraped up off the floor beneath my feet.

But how could I be angry at him for leaving? My best friend, who had such great opportunities ahead of him. A winding journey of riches and fame. A household name to be made. Such a bright star, why would he stay with his friend, who could barely make it past third period without running off to get lost in her head? Why would he tie himself down with someone who could make nothing of themselves.

I had dreams, I had aspirations that I got so damn close to reaching, but never quite there. Never quite confident enough to take the chances that everyone else was so easy to do. So while everyone grows up into who they want to be around me, I stay here and rott in my childish self pity and hopeless devotion to a man who calls once a month if I get lucky.

Maybe all these reasons could level out my anger issues and make me come up with a rational reason to his forgetfulness to check in with someone who never forgot to make sure he was okay. But they didn’t and instead I only grew more impatient and more irritable the larger he rose into a life we’d dreamed he’d get together. Call it jealousy, but I believe it’s just the bitter part of myself angry at the loss of him.

Am I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth

Call you a bitch and leave?

When the phone hanging unevenly in the kitchen echoed through the late PM, I let my feet rush across the tile. I almost didn’t answer the phone, scared that if it was the one call I’d receive from him, I’d waste it. Maybe if I called back, by some miracle he’d answer. But I came up with fake scenario‘s to force myself to answer.

What if my mom was hurt?

What if someone needed help?

What if my grandma was dying?

“Hello..?” I rubbed at my eyes, tucking the strands of hair falling in front of my face behind my ears. I leaned into the wall, hip popped out and heal off my foot off the ground comfortably.

“Y/n, hey. How have you been?” His English accent felt like a warm blanket of home. It was his moms Sunday breakfast the morning after a sleepover. It was the dew on the grass we ran through every morning before school.

I bit my lip until my teeth were stained red and there were holes in the skin so deep it could scar.

“Oh. I’m good. How have you been?” He laughed, it was airy and light with the blissful ignorance to the hurt he inflicted on me every time with these damn calls.

“You don’t sound too excited to hear from me, y/n/n.” Mentally, I rolled my eyes.

On the outside I came off as rude and standoffish towards any sort of topic involving our situation, but inside I craved for him to chase me like he still wanted me in his life. Just for him to care enough that me not caring broke him into the same shards he’d shattered me into when he left.

“No, just a little tired is all. So, how have you been, Harry?” I tried again, brushing the tense muscles away like everything he said didn’t deeply bother me.

He sighed. I could imagine in that moment that he was pinching his brows and blinking rapidly like he did all those years ago whenever he got slightly out of sorts.

“I’ve been doing really good, recently. I’m touring with the boys.” I nodded, though he couldn’t see me, it felt instinct to get tight lipped and short with him.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to the show, by the way. I really wanted to come.” I answered his next question before he could ask it. I knew he’d ask me if I was sure about not coming to his shows. It was a yearly occurrence.

At first I’d show up. Only to the first tour. The second one I had a work conflict with. My the third I had given up even checking my calendar, the embarrassment of my life being only a fraction of what his was worth too embarrassing for me, let alone how embarrassing it was to him. Even if he’d never admit that he found my life boring and undesirable, he’d shown it by leaving everything I worked for behind.

“About that, listen.” He started, I braced myself for what he was about to ask.

“I think it might be nice to catch up. Im in town, I wanted to see you tonight. You remember that cafe on the corner of Washington? The one we went to all the time when we were younger?”

“It closed last year, H.” I checked the clock. The line went silent.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” I bit at my nails in anticipation.

“How about the old coffee shop that sold sea salt taffy’s at the counter?” I hummed.

“Yeah, okay. What time?”

“How about eight? Does that work-“

“Yeah sounds great. See you then.” I hung up the phone harshly, ready to stab him in the heart for leading me on like he cared still or let him twist the knife he’d already put through mine. I knew why he’d called.

Every so often he’d get reminded by someone of me, then he’d get consumed with an insurmountable amount of guilt for not staying in touch. For letting himself drift away. He’d call like we had talked just the other day and go about his life forgetting me once again.

Why did I come here? To sit and watch you stare at your feet?

What was the plan? Absolve your guilt and shake hands?

I arrived at the shop first, finding a table situated near the back, where we always used to sit so we could talk as loud as we wanted and not get hushed.

I placed our coffees under the small napkins laid out to absorb the water rings that gathered occasionally. I ordered the same two black coffees Harry and I had always loved since we were young. Truthfully, I had no idea if he even liked it black anymore.

When the bell rang, my breath was caught in my throat. There he was. The same tall, tanned boy with the curly mop of soft brown locks and sparkling green eyes smiling softly at me. And my heart still raced the same way it did in elementary school.

“Y/n, oh my god you look great.” He reached out for a hug. I hesitated to return it. I was afraid to take in his scent. I was afraid to get attached to something that didn’t belong to me anymore. If I got attached it would only be harder to let it go again. I already lacked the supplies to patch my broken wings, how would I fix them if I allowed him to tear them straight off?

And when I did smell him, it was like a bubble of heaven surrounding my body. I could melt into his chest and just be fully vulnerable. It was the smell of my childhood and the promises of forever that we’d sworn on.

“I got us coffee. Black, like old times.” His lips pulled back and his teeth clenched.

“I actually don’t drink caffeine anymore.” Oh.

“Then why the coffee shop?” I almost laughed at his stupid choice of place. I almost let out a string of curses and begged for answers why I was even there. If not to drink until I’m up for days and pretend you miss me like I miss you, then why call me?

I feel no need to forgive but I might as well

“I just really like this place. Never really changed, so.” I nodded. Of course.

A silence covered us like a blanket that was rough and stuffy. The only sounds being those of the soft sipping of my coffee and the clink the cup made as it made contact with the table. Seconds of this turned to minutes, minutes feeling more like hours.

“How’s your mom?”

“She’s still out of her mind. Less than before but she’s still pretty sick so, I’m not expecting her to do much better.” The table between us was suddenly the most beautiful sight ever. The wood my eyes place to settle on to avoid his stare.

“What about your dad?” He pressed on, wanting more out of me.

“He’s doing the best he can. He’s needed a lot of help with mom so I’ve been helping. It’s been hard but it’s nice being all together again. I don’t mind it, it gets quiet over here.” I swallowed a lump in my throat, my tongue finding a home poking at the inside of my cheek.

“Shit, I had no idea it was that bad, babe. Why didn’t you say something?”

“You never asked.” Looking up to meet his face was like watching him process his lack of involvement in my life. It was watching him go through every stage of grief at once and every bit of it was doused in guilt.

But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt

Silence consumed us again. From afar I bet we looked like we were on an awkward first date. You never would have guessed that we’d know each other in and out at some point. But life is funny like that. While I live with our memories together like it deserves to be protected, he tosses them out like a side quest leading him to his success without me.

The chair squeaked when I stood, my hand reaching in my back pocket to pull out a twenty.

“I hope your show goes well tomorrow, Harry.” I began to leave, only stopping once he shot up and blocked my path with his chest.

Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down

Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell

“What? You’re leaving? Why?”

“Harry, I can’t catch up with someone I don’t even know.”

“You know me.”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” He raised his voice slightly. His tone wavered, unsure of himself and hurt by my quickness in giving up on us.

“Okay, then you must not know me.”

“Of course I know you.” I laughed but he didn’t find it funny.

Don't hold your breath, forget you've ever saw me at my best

You don't deserve what you don't respect

Don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect

“I know you still like your coffee black. And I know that you stayed at home because you got too attached to the backroads here. I know you were obsessed with the idea of letting our children grow up in one of the nice houses up on the hill with the picket fences and becoming just as close as we are.”

“As we were.” I corrected.

“As we are.” He insisted.

“You can’t be close to someone you can’t even remember to call until everyone else is busy.” He shut up, tugging at the hair at his roots.

“Y/n.” The beg tumbled past his lips with no real request. Maybe to just stay in my presence for a moment longer, but that idea was shoved down with all my other fantasies of us still being close like he believed we were.

“I hope your show goes well tomorrow, Harry.” My shoulder brushed his. He reached out for me, but missed by a hair, I felt it. Yet, he made no further movement to come back to me. He didn’t chase what he didn’t want.

Now bite your tongue, it's too dangerous to fall so young

Take back what you said

Can't lose what you never had

Exiting that shop hurt more than a thousand cuts in the creases of my body. Each step was heavier and each street light I counted only hurt my head more to count.

The scream I let out by the park bench on the way home was guttural and obnoxious. I could only pray no one overheard my breakdown that came out in ugly sobs and a clawed at chest.

If he was gone, then so was my oxygen. Every time was harder to let go than the previous. All had been over the phone so this was a new kind of hurt. This was dying. This was the light draining and the body shutting down If always feared as a kid. This was me welcoming it.

I could only wish he could feel a fraction of what I felt letting him go like that.

I feel no need to forgive but I might as well

But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt

Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down

Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell

I memorized his tour schedule for the next year. I knew when he would be in town and I knew when he would be leaving. I could predict when he would call, I could guess what he would ask about and I could accurately mouth the jokes he always said when things got awkward.

So I started helping over my parents help on nights when he was in town. If he wanted to call, I wouldn’t be there to contribute to his sudden remembrance to his humble beginnings.

I started avoiding my phone. I stopped walking through the kitchen. I started going to bed early when I was at home. I started to stop praying on his call to come and started to pray it wouldn’t.

You got a 9 to 5, so I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again if I can help it

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

Getting over him wasn’t an option, but I could distract myself with the people present in my life. My friends became my best friends and he slipped into a distant memory after some passing weeks. The mention of his name still had my heart racing at a speed that was pitiful for someone so mistreated, but I no longer longed for his constant presence.

You got a 9 to 5, so I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again if I can help it

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

It had been a year since that night that I walked out. It had been a few months since I developed my schedule to avoid his calls and pleas for my reassurance he hadn’t lost me. And it had been long enough for me to do the unbelievable.

When the phone rang in the kitchen I didn’t shuffle as quick as possible across the tile like I would. I didn’t rationalize with who it could be, what could be happening. I let my feet drag slowly to the wall with the same old phone on it and I answered.

I answered the phone, picking it up off the wall, and before he could get a word out about his relief that I’d answered, I set the phone back against the wall, ending the call before it began.

I did the unbelievable. I stopped caring.

You got a 9 to 5, so I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again if I can help it

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

[fredwkong]

I want to make a travel to France, because I think young guys there are very handsome and have a cool streetwear. I want to fit there!

Thanks for your booking with FWK Vacations! We hope you find your French vacation fulfilling.

You wake up in a strange room, in an unfamiliar bed. You wait a moment, but no prior memory of this room comes to you. The last thing you remember, you were out at a club, getting drunk. Then you were on the street. There were all these hot boys around…

That’s when the smell hits you. The whole room stinks of sex and cum. Your slender, dark-haired chest is tacky with at least three different loads. At least one person who was in here recently forgot to put on deodorant. Come to think of it, it might have been you. You give yourself a sniff. Yeah, you’ve built up a pretty good funk.

Working on instinct, you roll off the bed and grab your scattered clothes from the musky piles on the floor. Distressed jeans, pulled up your bare legs and worn commando over your uncut brown cock. A black shirt to accent your lithe body, under a supple black leather jacket impregnated with the heady smell of your own sweat. A couple of silver chains from the pockets.

There’s a mirror across from the bed, and you take a moment to check out your look before you head out of the room. You look pleasantly scruffy, your dark hair ruffled in a way that would take anyone else hours to replicate. Even with a pounding headache, your fuck-me eyes and sharp smirk could get anyone to fall into bed.

Hopefully, whoever you slept with last night is still at home. Maybe they’ll be up for another round?

Enjoy your vacation!

Want to go on vacation? Book via my ask box!

[karmicpunishment]

KARMIE BELOVED hear me out. ada minecraft server.

kyouka keeps taming animals (no one can bear to hit her. what if the dogs get mad at them. what if they have thorns armor. WHAT IF IT MAKES HER SAD.) and she is simply accompanied by a pack at all times

atsushi is still learning how to play and he builds these ugly-ass houses like we all did starting out but hes so proud of them (as he should be)

i was torn on dazai but i think it would be funny is hes so so bad at minecraft. he keeps walking off of inclines and dying bc he doesn't pay attention to his healthbar. he insists hes just playing on a higher level (hes actually rlly good at pvp and uses that for shenanigans but general play? he sucks so bad)

alternatively i think kunikida should be really good when he does play bc it would annoy dazai so much. i think he builds really nice houses and insists the game is just math but doesn't even play that often bc too much time gaming is unhealthy (it infuriates dazai that hes so competent despite barely playing)

i think ranpo plays exclusively for the chaos. he and dazai are a terrible combination (for everyone else) but also extremely funny. also i think he breaks minecraft in insane ways for fun when he gets bored and its a tossup whether the rest of the server suffers or benefits bc of it

tbh i think yosano should go feral in minecraft? like i think she should steal good gear from whoever has it and go kill to her heart's content. u cannot tell me she doesnt have insane amounts of repressed fury i think she should relieve that stress by going on adventures where she kills whatever she finds. yosano should 1v1 the warden powered by sheer spite i think

i think fukuzawa would not really understand minecraft?? but he gets on the server sometimes to spend time with the other members and has a minecraft cat that follows him everywhere (it took so many fish to tame. he worked so fucking hard for that ok)

OH MY GOD KENJI. I FORGOT HIM. THE BOY. i think hes so excited to play with everyone :) he can't build but he collects animals like kyouka and also provides the majority of the food for the other server members. hes like me fr just out here making massive farms of food and also collecting soo many farm animals in pens (he insists on not overcrowding the animal pens)

anyway i will end this by saying rip tanizaki hes the only remotely normal player on this fucking minecraft server

HI PAT!!! and yes yes yes to all of this

kyouka as an animal hoarder tamer is so cute and so real. kenji definitely does this too and yeah he'd totally make Massive farms. ranpo tells him he could make automated ones with redstone and he finds that amazing but also much rathers to just do it himself. they have huge buildings dedicated just to the animals they've collected and basically every name tag someone finds goes towards naming them all.

atsushi would 100% start out building the ugliest houses fr...all the dirt 4x4s and then the wooden box houses. he gradually gets better until hes a pretty decent builder. i feel like he'd also be the type to just get utterly lost in the game lol both in terms of directions (but he always writes down his coordinates) but also like he'd look up at the clock and realize he's spent 3 hours mining.

dazai being an utter disaster at the game is so funny to me. he's not allowed to go mining by himself because he will just die in a random cave and lose everything (also not allowed in the nether for similar reasons). he would be the type to purposefully hit a zombie pigmen just to make his fellow players lives worse lmao. the first thing someone gives him on the server is feather falling boots because he keeps walking off tall places (half the time on purpose the other half are complete accidents) it just makes him walk off things more but at least he's dying less because of it. he's an expert at setting up in game pranks though (usually on kunikida, the poor guy)

kunikida being great at minecraft is so near and dear to me now. i feel like he played the game a lot as a kid because lets be honest, its perfect for him but then kinda fell out of playing it as he got older. and then one of his students from when he was an assistant teacher reminded him of it and he got back into it. he definitely plays for like a couple a week to destress on his own private world where he has the most insane builds. he also is totally a resource gatherer/hoarder too, he's always giving the others supplies (though giving is a strong word, half of them just steal from him).

ranpo is also a disaster in minecraft i feel. he could build insane things but he doesn't have the patience for it honestly. same with redstone stuff, like he gets it but he doesn't usually take the time to do it. he's absolutely awful at pvp though and he gets lost ALL the time. he is the perfect person to go to when trying to find a special area or material, he always knows what someone needs. i also feel like he'd like potion making, idk why. he also really enjoys insane mod packs (though he makes other people install them for him)

yosano would totally be an insane pvp'er. she enjoys the other aspects of the game too but she gets the most enjoyment spending her nights beating mobs. she's not much of a builder but she does like to spend some time decorating the inside of ppl's bases. she's the kind of player to set off withers to defeat on her own for fun. she also plays bedwars lol and is a beast at it.

fukuzawa definitely has just a nice little house with like 5 cats in it. he logged on the first day of the server and then maybe like 3 times since but its okay. and absolutely no one is allowed to touch his house, under threat of ranpo's chaos lol. also no one really wants to destroy the presidents house, it just feels wrong.

tanizaki is just a fairly well-rounded player, like his builds aren't amazing but they're nice, he's decent at combat, he likes resource gathering etc. i feel like he and naomi have like several worlds of their own that they've kept up with for years at this point, with just like sprawling cities worth of builds. his favorite things to do in the game are probably just going on long journeys to find new biomes and fishing lol

[limetimo]

Ceremonious Nerves by tenrousei_kuroi psychological horror, Harry just arrived to Grimmauld Place and is finding out just how messed up his godfather is... and it's not just baout Azkaban

Confusions and Complications by whos_creativity third year. boggart lesson. On Harry's turn the boggart turns into a soaking wet bleeding boy... who is no-one else than Remus' old friend, Regulus Black!

old men and their pajamas by rsbarelle Fleamont and REgulus have the same pyjamas.

constant vigilance by maladaptivewriting jegulus smut, noncon roleplay

Regulus's (very professional) Guide to Forming a Family - a series -a feshly free (but still deeply traumatised) trans regulus starts working at a cafe, is befriended against his will by Remus, bumps into his estranged brother, meets said brother's friends, starts dating James, and overall finds himself with more family than he ever thought he'd have or need.

and though i burn, how could i fall? by theicarusconstellation icarus Regulus and Apollo James

lost and found by rxgulus James adopts a stray cat, doesn't know the stray cat is regulus actually

The Marshmallow Test by Scorpsblack CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE BABY REGULUS AND BIG BRO SIRIUS DOING TEH MARSHMALLOW TEST IM DEAD

is this the end of all the endings? (his broken bones are mending) by rsbarelle sirius is raising regulus, also bartylus ♥

Gathering Home by Quietlemonhush Sirius is rasiing both Regulus and Harry, and Remus is the kindergarden teacher

Black's Anatomy by Scorpsblack sirius is a doctor and also raising regulus, who is 3 and has a brain tumor. Thankfully the hospital is full of friends! Regulus and Barty traumatise the entire play room.

Little Lion by TracingPatterns undersage incest also James/Regulus/Sirius

we're not worried, we're just having fun by grimjobs remus is a virgin and regulus is a slut, james has a brilliant idea.

How we all fall by georgia_sk harry is trying to get draco to date him and is very dramatic about it, much to jegulus' amusement.

Naughty, Knotty, Naughty by Anonymous Regulus/Harry/Sirius animagus smut

i can go anywhere i want (just not home) by rsbarelle regulus is Not having a good time and decides to follow in Sirius' footsteps and run away to the Potters.

the love of a brother by rxgulus - regulus is tasked with writing an essay about the people who raised him. backgroud estabilished jegulus

alcohol free by rxgulus when james gets drunk he starts waxing poetics about his husband to whoever is nearest; this time it's Regulus' coworkers Lily and friends.

the soldier by woobyo soon after Regulus' death, Sirius finds himself being 11 again. This time around he's not going to let nobody get n the way of their happily ever afters. (Even if it takes a liberal amount of murder.)

Mortal Once More by SheOfTheBookAndSong reg takes snape's place in narattive

Eighty-Twenty by FrankieQuinn13 back at school, james dumped severus because the boy didn't fit his idea of two children and a picket fence. He marries Lily instead and... it's fine, the marriage is fine. It feels a little less fine when they find out Severus is dating Sirius... and it's pretty serious

anti-hero by rweoutofthewoods regulus dies... or does he? :D past and endgame jegulus, lily lives. good writing!

Meet on Telegraph Avenue by ani_wahstan Regulus gets kicked out and goes to love with his brother and his sexy, slutty best friend.

Toujours-effin-pur, baby! by kwiewi Bartylus cruisin' and vibin' and lovin' on the roads of USA

make me stay by vick Regulus can't believe he's got crush on his brother's best riend. humiliating. pathetic. jegulily

Slipping through the mirror's cracks by Careless_Mirel walburga stuffed sickly regulus' soul in his healthy out-of-wedlock sister's body and it's overall a mess but Regulus and i forgot her name right now are going to figure it out

best friend behaviour by Anonymous barty/evan/regulus smut

Fuck The Monarchy! (Literally) by Bartemius_Crouch sirius and regulus are princes. what the title says, by james (and remus)

you're too sweet for me by fullonbicrisis regulus does sex work on the phone on side. his newest customer james is so sweet! there's no way things could get crazy!

though I try to resist, I still want it all by deanconti sirius/regulus/remus/james smut, sweet

Sirius rides his brother's Tickle Me Elmo by thebestmaraudersslythetinskittlefaneva_8 sirius does some self-discovery

A potion a day from The Black Apothecary by ani_wahstan james is looking for a long term solution to his anxiety, falls in love with a handsome potioneer along the way. sweet

Begin Again by slutforJamesPotter98 regulus dies, time travels, jegulus ensues

all I see is you by morgana_moonlight regulus wants his ears pierced, somehow he gets a date with james out of the whole mess?

god bless america by rweoutofthewoods sirius left. regulus stayed. knocked up a girl. called remus for help. and things stay the same in the sleepy rualr american town. will things change now that sirius and james are back in town? (beautifully written, the atmosphere is somehting else)

How to Raise the Chosen One series, past Jegulily, Regulus raises Harry, Dumbledore's a blackmailing DICK

More than Magic by Hometown_Nerd ♥♥♥♥♥ squibified Reg kidnaps harry, ect ect love it

Best Part of Waking Up by starling011, TemieTem remus/sirius/regulus smut with a surprising amount of plot-oriented chapters.

Curse Breaker (or how to find answers) by vianexa regulus is trying to break a curse, james helps, you can connect the dots

pearl necklace by indecest for PsychiatristGirl orion/regulus incest

A Man On The Horizon by vianexa cowboys!!! after regulus kills a man he can no longer stay in his hometown. in search of his brother he finds James ♥ and a new home ♥♥♥

A star for a summer's day by her_smile_forges_galaxies bartylus fake dates to get james and evan's attention

Drifting by indiantaylor regulus dies and goes back to 13. jegulus

Baby Black by miss_little_kitten regulus is accidentally de-aged and given to sirius to care for

Porn Delivery Service what it says on the tin ft james sirius regulus barty evan uuum remus too i think in various pairings/groups

Faith in Fear | A Regulus Black Story by chilloutkid regulus survives cave, v good

i will touch you with my mind by jaywalkers kinky jegulus

evocatio by justwhatialwayswanted regulus fake-dates evan into real dating

the tips of your teeth (fit perfect in me) by damagecontrol demon regulus priest james fuck nasty

Past Zero Hour by anonymsly ♥♥♥♥♥ :D:D:D:D:D

[thatsuhboldchoice]

alright i think i'm diving back into shx starting with as you like it bc i want to watch the nt production with rosalie craig and patsy ferran

this office space is...a lot to unpack

i literally never remember the plot of as you like it

i remember there are multiple dukes and multiple brothers? but i cannot remember who is a love interest for whom

there's also jaques and touchstone and the exiled duke and corin who are very different characters but whom my brains insists on mushing together

not gonna lie every production i've seen of this show i've found mind numbingly boring but i'm like there's gotta be merit here i'm gonna find it even if it kills me!

okay the bonsai trees on the desk kill me

i am willing to watch whatever this production throws at me simply for craig and ferran

ferran has no right being that adorable like my little gay heart goes pitter patter whenever she opens her mouth

also my gay self wants craig to step on me

so failing all else i love them

and now we wrestle. right here. in the office. sure. why not.

celia's little pjs!

there are scenes i recall though and rosalind's banishment is one...it's such a brutal thing to come right out of the gate

also i forgot how loyal celia is to rosalind

and they're like hey we'll just run away! rosalind will dress like a man! we'll just steal the fool!

holy shit holy fuck holy what is this set doing

AHHHHHHHHHHH

jesus mary and joseph okay that was inspired

creepy forest of arden that's just like dripping hell yes i'm here for it

how they get this all back down neatly i have no idea

i'm in love with whoever is singing here his voice my god

i don't really get the point of jaques and tbh i don't think anyone else does either including jaques

he pulled off all the world's a stage really nicely though

super famous speeches are hard and that one's idk...not very active? but he thought through it in a compelling way

are these post it notes falling as leaves?

the SHEEP the FUCKING SHEEP how to win my love: do something like that

when one ate a post it leaf i lost it

oh no celia's gonna break my heart

rosalind's so excited and enamored and celia literally just leaves

i don't know if it's specifically craig's portrayal or if i'm actually paying attention to text but rosalind is so mean to orlando

and i love it

she's like yes i have a crush on this boy yes i will bark orders at him

every playwright's at their best when it comes to banter and ole willy shakes is no exception

the shit between rosalind and orlando is a+

oh right that's who celia ends up with

okay fine this play does pick up momentum it just takes so long to get there my god

straight up forgot about that deus ex machina warp up with fake duke becoming a hermit

you know sometimes billy shakes just says fuck it let's call it a night

okay i am not as allergic to this play now

it's still not my favorite and i think it's got quite a few messy and/or slower bits that take a lot of work to deal with

but i see the appeal

which is the sheer number of possibilities with those fucking sheep

[zora-thesidecharacter]

Page two of "An Eclipse in Time" (newly decided name)

“Alright, is that everyone?” Directer Clavel said as everyone scurried back into line. “Now that you have you very own Pokemon it is time for us to head for Mesaoza! Everyone follow me-”

“YO AM I LAAATE?” a girls voice could be clearly heard coming from the path out of the beach. Everyone turned in unison to see Zora and Nemona running down the hill. Nemona was the neighbor girl who practically grew up with them. She was already in year three, one year below Zora, but was on a fast track to being both one of the best battlers and becoming a top student. As Nemona ran to the director, Zora walked up to Luna with her tie in hand.

“Please... Please don't forget it again...” He must have ran the whole way with how out of breath he was. Luna thanked him and slipped on the tie. Slip on ties were technically aloud but the director was old fashioned and would look down upon it. Luckily Nemona was distracting him so he didn't notice.

“Please director, please? It would be more fun and Zora is old enough to go on the treasure hunt anyway!” Nemona was insistent on something but Luna missed that part of the conversation.

With a sigh Director Clavel just shook his head. “If it were anyone else then I would have to say no, however both you and Zora have proven yourselves capable and trustworthy in the past. Yes, you can escort young Luna and Solar to Mesagoza on your own. But if anything happens, its on you two.”

“Oh no...” Zora mumbled, a little to loud and so everyone, except the ecstatic Nemona, heard him. “I would be asking you two to behave I'm more worried about her.” he glanced at Solar and Luna.

“Oh! And one more thing Mr. Clavel, that poor little Quaxly, can he come with me? I know I already got a Rockruff from my first pokemon, but I don't want Quaxly to feel lonely.” Nemona knelt down to the little duck and patted his squishy head.

“I don't see why not, he does seem... disappointed to be left out.” Clavel wasn't wrong, the poor little duck was sulking until Nemona came along. “Now with that, lets get going everyone!” The director lead all of the other new student on there way to Mesagoza.

“So what exactly were you asking the professor?” Zora confronted Nemona.

“We can go to Mesagoza together as our own group now.” She responded chearfully.

“And why exactly should we do that?” Solar pitches in sarcasticly.

“Because it will be fun, obviously.” Nemona looked genuinely confused. She was to innocent for her own good.

“I for one think it will be great! Whats the worst that could happen, we fall off a cliff and break an arm?” Luna stands next to Nemona in her defense.

“That's... that's exactly what could fucking happen.” Zora just shook his head.

“How about we do a battle. Boys vs Girls. Whoever wins gets to decide weather we catch up with Mr. Clavel like a bunch of cowardly fun police, or go an epic adventure of mystery!” Nemonas suggestion came as a surprise to nobody, as she was seemingly addicted to Pokemon battles.

“Fine, but you only get to use one pokemon. You have two now after all.” Solar finished the deal before Zora could make another counter argument.

As the four of them readied for battle, Cartel and Queeny the Sprigatito and Clauncher vs Lilac and Sandy the Sprigatito and Rockruff, they completely forgot that their mother had been watching the whole time. She was enjoying the moment and watching as the battle got under way. She had her rotom phone hover above them and record the whole thing.

“Ready, set, GO!” the four of them all said in unison as Luna's very first Pokemon battle started.

[evita-shelby]

Hi !

Can you do one where tommy has an affair and falls in love with a very suductive and manipulative reader ?

@l1-l4 did one similar "devil is a woman" and its SO GOOD , like ...art siriously you need to read it

Dont feel pressured to write anything , thank you 🙂

Oh i love her fics, especially the one where Grace’s sister has an affair with Tommy.

I was going to make this set in like season 6, but them I'd have to write about Ruby, and he cheats on Lizzy in canon already, so this oneshot takes place in season 3 to make the reader way more evil lol

Venus

Gif by @retromafia

If you asked anyone, especially his insipid Irish wife, you’ll hear how Thomas Shelby never cheats.

That things between the two of you were over when she came back fat with his bastard.

If anyone asked his driver, the maid who washed his clothes and Polly, especially Polly who knew him better than anyone else, you’ll hear about the woman he loves who looks like Venus herself.

You met him as a nude model posing for Churchill, you had fucked him with your eyes as he agreed to kill whoever Churchill asked him to kill.

That led to drinks at his pub, a day at the races, a week shopping and fucking in London and all while you remained the chaste widow of some rich old man who died trying to consummate your week-long marriage. People even thought you were still a virgin waiting for her handsome nouveau riche boyfriend to make a move.

You were no angel, you were a demon straight from hell. And the world was just so blind to the fangs you hide beneath your pretty lipstick.

Even Tommy forgot how wicked you were until you unleashed hell after he fucked up with Grace.

Grace Shelby had one boy lost to her forever and a loveless marriage behind closed doors. You made sure everyone and their dog knew it on both sides of the Atlantic.

He married her out of duty, he hadn’t even touched in the two years he made her wait for the wedding he never wanted.

You see, she had assumed Tommy was the daddy, but when the dates didn’t add up, you tearfully told darling Clive’s bereaved mummy how Grace had claimed the little blonde cherub was the product of an affair with your boyfriend because she had never loved sweet, sweet Clive.

Her late husband’s parents had issued an ultimatum that same day, forget Thomas Shelby or forget Clive Junior. They were powerful, Clive’s mum was born a Vanderbilt and his paternal grandmother an Astor, even here no one would dare fuck with them.

But she chose a man over her own child, something no person rich or poor would ever forgive thanks to those tips you gave the tabloids.

You’d never liked Grace, not when you knew her from finishing school nor when the two of you had your court presentations together. You came to loathe her when you discovered your beloved Thomas had fucked her in the same sofa he had said he loved you.

But you still loved him, and he loved you, so you forgave him after punishing him for two years.

Your idiot lover had gotten the marriage license already when he believed the bun in the oven to be his and because of that General Curran had threatened to throw him and his family into prison if he didn’t marry his stupid niece.

You didn’t forgive him for his sins until you showed up at his wedding wearing white and stole the show.

You didn’t care about driving attention to yourself , you feigned innocence and said you assumed that because the bride wore such a garish shade of purple you were free to wear white.

Can you ever forgive me, Y/N? He had asked so sweetly as you led him to the master bedroom that bitch had no idea you decorated.

If she knew that everything had been done by you for you, she’d run for the hills.

You’d kill to see her destroyed, but revenge takes time, something your viper of a mother had taught you well.

He loved you, he felt alive when he was with you, and you knew he wasn’t lying as the two of you fucked on his marriage bed to prove it.

Grace is only here until I can get rid of her, he said when the two of you removed any trace of your affair and returned to the party downstairs.

“Doesn’t Mrs. Shelby look stunning?” your ‘friend’ asked another lady as Grace entered her gala looking like she wanted to cry.

Tommy had used Section D to get his divorce, a divorce that had hit Grace like a missile this morning.

"Pretty and ornamental like a statue.” You heard her companion titter. No one liked Mrs. Shelby, in fact no one cared about her. "A statue that should've been left in the attic, if you ask me."

Not her family, not her husband, not her so called friends. Society hated her, especially when ‘someone’ discovered a story about sweet and innocent romance she had destroyed like the wicked bitch everyone thinks she is.

The guests were only here because you shared the charity with her just as much as you shared the man who funded it.

They came as a favor to you, you who was so sweet and kind and would never abandon a child you bore for a man who didn't love you.

If Grace knew about it, she’d die.

You made a mental note to send an invitation for your wedding in Paris next month.

February 14, a Valentine’s Day wedding for two star-crossed lovers in the most romantic city in the world.

Tommy was yours, heart, soul and body. She could have his name and money for now, but even that would be taken away from her in a heartbeat.

You'll be generous of course, give her some cash and have her return to Northern Ireland where she'll die in obscurity like she deserved. It's not like you'll ever need your late husband’s country home now that you have Arrow House.

“I heard from the housekeeper that he had every trace of her removed today.” Polly gave you a knowing look. She hated Grace for what she did in 1919. “Apparently this is the last time she is appearing in society as his wife.”

“Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” You quoted like the saintly women you pretend to be.

[sundaysundaes]

Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.” 

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!” 

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.” 

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened? 

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 

***

[td-scenarios]

How they react to seeing their S/O crying

First scenarios are a go!

Cody

Will most definitely start panicking at your status and start asking you various questions.

“Are you okay? Did I do something? Do you need space? Should I hug you? Do I need to punch someone?” And you better believe he’ll do that last one based off that one scene of him and Duncan in World Tour.

Goes and brings his stash of candy to you for you to enjoy

If you don’t need space at the moment but instead comfort, you better believe this boy will turn into the biggest cuddlebug. His arms just wrapping around your entire body and him resting his head into the crook of your neck. Would totally start kissing you all over the face until you smiled and were laughing as you told him to stop in a lighthearted manner

Trust me, Cody is not leaving until there’s a smile on your face. Even if you ask for some space he’ll be sending you memes or stupid little drawings.

Also would totally do the really cheesy thing of wiping away your tears and resting the palm of his hand on your cheek so that you can lean into it.

Scott

Doesn’t really understand what’s going on at first. He’s clever, but he ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed at times.

“Why are you crying? It better not be somethin’ stupid, cuz, ya know, back on the farm-” cue you punching him in the face or on the shoulder

That’s when he’s like ‘Oh fuck, something is ACTUALLY wrong. Oh no this is a time where  I have to step up as a boyfriend oh no oh no’

Him awkwardly being all “So....um....what’s wrong?”

His face absolutely breaking upon seeing your shattered expression. Protective boyfriend mode = activated.

“Did someone hurt you? Babe, you better believe that I’ll go and make their life a living hell, trust me.” And then you just slowly shaking your head no and leaning your head onto his chest, which just makes this big softie melt.

Y’all cuddling for a long time until you eventually fall asleep on him and he’s just brooding on the fact that if someone did cause it, he really was gonna go and  beat them up, He doesn’t make idle threats, but for now, it’s just calm between the two of you.

Brick

He gets back from running one of his bi-hourly jogs with Jo to see your form shaking from under a blanket in the cabin. Since you’re under the blanket, he can only assume you’re not cold and immediately comes to the conclusion that you are upset

“Y/N! What has got you feeling so blue right now?” He would try to lower his voice for you, but his same tone only wavers a bit. Habits and all that.

You already know that this sweet boy will drop whatever other plans he had for today to stay in the cabin and comfort you until you were better.

He’d try to suggest going outside and getting some fresh air, but you two would go out for a bit and you’d either see the person who upset you or get reminded of your homesickness or whatever else made you sad, so you two would just go back inside.

Brick being Brick would probably find a way of accidentally making you laugh and he’ll just continue with that until you forgot why you were sad in the first place. 

Mike

Taking a break from the others, Mike finds you sitting on a rock near the beach with your head buried into your folded arms. He instantly comes jogging up to your side and sits across from you, gently saying your name which gets you to look up. When you ask for alone time, he softly shakes his head.

“I can’t leave you until I make sure you’re okay, Y/N. You know me, it’s good knowing that the people I care about are good.” Those words kind of put a smile on your face as you look at the gap toothed boy.

Mike counts this as the start of working your mood back up. He wouldn’t want to make you more sad by making you talk about what upset you, so instead he decides to start telling you funny stories of shenanigans his alters have caused.

“They’re quite the cast! I remember when Manitoba was really proud of himself for digging up some new material, but the guy was already a little bit tired so instead he was just holding some dried cow patty! Vito wouldn’t let him live it down for weeks!” More and more stories of that caliber, all of which would make you giggle in some way or another.

At some point, Mike ends up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and it’s become night time so you’re both just looking up into the stars. A nice serene way to forget about what was plaguing your mind earlier

Dakota

“O M G, babe, are you okay? Your skin is getting a little blotchy.” You would wince a little bit at that prompting her to apologize as you wipe one side of your face with your hand.

The blonde would sit next to you on the cabin bed and ask that you “spill the tea, sugar.

After telling her what’s wrong, she insists on taking care of you for the rest of the day. Bringing you any food she can scour off the island, asking the other teens of the cast to leave the two of you alone, and once your crying dies down a bit she starts doing your makeup.

“I like doing your makeup so much because it gives me a great view of your gorgeous face.”

This comment of Dakota’s immediately gets the waterworks started up again.

She starts panicking, thinking she said something wrong while carefully putting her makeup brushes down. You just shake your head and hug her tightly, to which she’s confused about, but reciprocates anyways.

Leshawna

This girl immediately hugs you as soon as she sees how distressed you are. She gives the best hugs ever, I would know, Fresh TV told me.

“Alright baby, tell me what’s got your feathers in a bunch! Leshawna will make all the problems go away.” Her voice is so calming at that point that you break down even more and choke out what’s been bothering you.

If it is someone, she would definitely start making threats, but wouldn’t dare to leave you alone in this state, so whoever did this to you would definitely get some knuckle sandwiches later.

The girl would take you back to her cabin and lay both of y’all down on her bed and softly sing to you (even if it’s not the best, it’s endearing.) Until you fall asleep in eachother’s arms.

Leshawna would be the first to wake up and would smile upon seeing your face, now with a soft smile instead of the heartbreaking expression it carried mere hours before. You were definitely her everything.

Heather

She really wants to keep up her mean façade like she does in front of everyone and say “ew, you’re showing emotions right now?” or something like that, but she decides that she could never do that to you. Even if anyone else was watching her at the moment.

Heather would take a seat next to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “Tell me what’s up.” And before you could say anything she interrupts, “and no, I won’t tell anyone what you tell me. I would never.” She made sure to keep both her hands up so you could see that she wasn’t crossing her fingers.

You let out a sigh and then hesitantly began telling her what’s up.

“Are you kidding? Hun, you need to put your game face on! Come with me.” She then grabs your hand and takes you around to do calming activities all around the island. Being bitchier to everyone else, but the most soft, kind, caring person in the world for you. She doesn’t let go of your hand at all just to let you know she’s there.

At the end of your day together, your tears long forgotten, both of you sat on a blanket watching the sunset, she looks over at you. “You ready to go kick some loser butt?” She says with a smirk, you sniffle a bit and nod yes. “Cool, lets go.” Her hand finally leaves yours, which saddens you, but she waits for you so you can head back to camp together. Who knew you could go a whole day with your girlfriend without her being TOO focused on the million?

Dawn

You thought you had found a quiet spot to let your feelings free under a shaded tree that may be capable of eating you any second, but how wrong you were. You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a familiar soft voice speak, “your aura is stained with anguish. What is plaguing you so?”

Dawn’s statement startled you out of your tears for a bit until you began to explain to her what had happened with a shaky voice and it all became too much so you stopped talking.

The look on her face gave away that she knew more than she let on.

“Here Y/N breathe with me.” You would give her a confused look but go along with it since your girlfriend was weirdly knowledgeable in some areas.

“Very good. You’re shaky, but there’s nothing your position won’t fix. Here follow what I do.” Dawn got into a position perfect for breathing exercises and you followed suit. “Your chakras will align in the median in your body and your mind will be freed of its chains, do not be afraid.” She repeated the affirmations in a hushed tone as you two breathed with one another.

It was actually pretty calming. The sounds of the toxic island along with Dawn’s hushed voice made for the perfect aura around you two and you can’t remember a time when you have felt so at peace.

“I can sense that your aura is back to its normal state. Are you feeling any better?” The different words took you out of your zen and you looked up at her and nodded, which made her smile.

“That is nice to hear. Would you like to go look at the flowers with me?

[missdreamshade]

Predator and Prey

Pairing: Psychopath!Jimin x Reader

Genre: yandere au + serial killer au

Summary: You and your friends decide to go on a camping trip that quickly takes a twisted and deadly turn.

Warnings: Yandere content, mentions of blood, murder, kidnapping, graphic violence, strong language, overall dark themes, please read at your own risk

“Stop being so loud, Chan. You might attract a bear,” you friend, Gia, scolded, smacking the boy next to her with a stick.

“Ow! Geez, okay,” he muttered, standing up from his spot around the fire, “I’m going to go take a leak anyway.”

“Classy,” you piped up, watching happily as your marshmallow slowly turned golden brown over the open flames.

Chan rolled his eyes, turning around and walked away, disappearing amongst the surrounding bushes.

“Gosh, he’s so annoying.”

A small giggle escaped past your lips as you pulled your marshmallow off the stick, “At least he’s entertaining.”

A scoff erupted from her chest while she grabbed herself out some chocolate.

“Who cares,” your other friend, Hyunjin, spoke up, “Just ignore him if he bothers the spoiled princess oh-so much.”

A piece of chocolate went flying across the campfire, ricocheting itself off Hyunjin’s forehead. Almost immediately, the two began bickering back and forth, throwing insults and snide comments each other’s way. Many minutes passed while you sat back silently observing, until a pit of worry started to grow in your stomach. You almost forgot, but nearly ten minutes had passed and Chan still wasn’t back yet.

“Guys,” you hesitantly interrupted, “Do you think we should go find Chan? He’s been gone a long time.”

The two glanced your way, confusion written on their features.

“He’s fine. He’s probably just goofing around,” Hyunjin replied.

“Or he’s lost,” Gia offered, her voice hopeful.

Hyunjin sent her a glare before the sound of a twig snapping caught everyone’s attention. A figure was slowly emerging from the bushes.

“Hey, man,” Hyunjin called out, “Good thing you’re back. Y/n was starting to get worried.”

When the figure finally came into view, Gia let out a horrified gasp. The man wasn’t Chan. In fact, you had no idea who he was. He stood in silence, waiting for someone else to make a move.

Although, it was hard to notice, his hands were fully covered in blood.

“Hey, who the fuck are you? And where’s our friend?”

Hyunjin began hollering out at the intruder, standing up from his seat and taking a couple steps in his direction. The man still didn’t speak. He only cocked his head to the side, his eyes scanning your friends. Suddenly, his gaze shifted to you. A small smirk tugged on his lips. His tongue darted out, running along his bottom lip while staring intently into your eyes.

You felt weak under his stare, almost vulnerable. Whoever this man was, he radiated danger. Your eyes trailed down his body, causing a slight gasp to leave your lips the second you noticed the crimson metallic blade clutched tightly in the stranger’s grip.

“Hey,” Hyunjin shouted again, “Are you listening to me, you fucking creep?”

“S-Stop it, Hyunjin,” you stuttered out, but it was too late.

The man had already lunged himself at your friend, tackling him down to the ground. The knife was then raised over the stranger’s head and plunged deep down into Hyunjin’s chest.

A solid grip formed around your hand as Gia pulled you off the wood log. While dragging you behind her, she dashed off into the woods which circled your campsite. Panic, terror, nausea, and guilt. All those emotions swirled themselves inside your chest.

You struggled to keep up with Gia’s fast pace, especially while dodging various branches, bushes, and trees.

“Gia, stop. Stop!” you yelled out.

She reluctantly listened, stopping all her movements, and whipped around to face you.

“What? What the hell is it?”

“Wh-What about Hyunjin? We can’t just leave him—”

You felt stupid saying for it, but the idea of abandoning your friend, who may still be alive, made you feel worse.

“What about Hyunjin? Y/n, are you serious? He’s dead! Dead! And if we don’t start running, fast, we are going to end up dead too! ..”

Her hollering abruptly stopped as she jolted, her body becoming tense. You watched in fearful concern and she began wavering from side to side, then suddenly dropped face down onto the ground. The black handle of a blade sticking out proudly from her back.

“Last one standing, I see.”

Your head snapped up at the voice. Only a few feet away stood the deranged murderer. Tears began streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. You gradually backed away, desperately trying to put some distance between you and the psychopath. He walked forward in your direction, only to stop and crouch down next to Gia’s figure.

“P-Please,” you sobbed out, watching as he pulled the knife out from your best friend’s back.

The animalistic man in front of you ignored your sad attempt for mercy, continuing to stalk up to you at an agonizingly slow pace.

Just like a predator when it finally cornered it’s prey ..

The harsh sounds of leaves crunching under his feet filled your ears. Your eyes shifted away from the weapon to actually look over his figure. Scratches, bruises, and cuts littered the visible parts of his skin. The boys must’ve fought hard to get away.

The dark denim of his jeans were torn and caked in mud. Your eyes moved to his white shirt. A crimson red colour splattered itself all around, almost like it was trying to create a sick and twisted design.

The fabric will forever be stained with the blood of your friends.

With every forward step he took, you took two backwards, that is until your back ran into the rough bark of a tree. Using it to his advantage, the man quickly closed the gap between you, stopping only when he was a mere inch away.

The man’s free hand reached out, pushing away rouge strands of hair that fell into your face. You couldn’t help but to flinch at his actions, tears still continuing to pool in the corner of your eyes. Your whole body quaked in fear.

“So innocent,” he murmured, talking more to himself than you.

You could feel the tip of his bloodstained knife make contact with your skin causing you to whimper. A sick smile tugged on his lips at the pathetic sound. He slowly dragged the blade up your thigh, only to stop when he hit the hem of your shorts. The tears threatening to fall finally gave up their bluff and fell down your cheeks.

“So delicate,” he muttered once again.

He pulled the knife away from your thigh, only to press it down against your lower abdomen, keeping you in place.

“Please,” your voice sounded weak, barely even above a whisper, “Don’t k-kill me.”

A dark chuckle escape past his lips as his free hand moved from your hair to your face, tracing his thumb across your lips.

“Kill you? Oh, baby, I’m not going to kill you.”

He leaned down, digging the knife further into your stomach, but made sure not to draw any blood. Or at least not yet. His lips made their way to your ear, lightly grazing over the soft flesh before whispering,

“I’m going to make you my new toy, beautiful. Isn’t that exciting?”

His free hand found its way to your throat, grasping onto it with a painfully tight grip. Your lungs almost immediately began burning for air. Everything in your sight became blurry, then a swarm of black dots began to consume your vision. The sickeningly sweet voice of the man in front of you echoed through your ears, sounding far off in the distance.

“You’re all mine now, babygirl .. I can’t wait to finally have some fun.”

Then your body gave out, collapsing you into the arms of a psychopath.

• • •

// Alright, I didn’t want to make myself or anyone wait for the completion of the fic, so I hammered it out! 🍄 \\

[storiesforallfandoms]

nothing left ~ 10k;z nation

word count: 2229

request?: no

description: he accompanies her back to her childhood home to find nothing left besides the memories of times before the zombies, and they decide to leave some new memories there

pairing: 10k x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

(Y/N) kept a straight face as they drove past the sig with her hometown’s name displayed in bold, black letters against the stark white background. It was the first time she had been there since she and her parents had escaped during the initial Z outbreak. Since then, she had lost everything, but managed to find a new family within the small group that took her in.

They came to a stop at an empty parking lot of an abandoned supermarket. Everyone got out, weapons in tow.

“This place is a ghost town,” Doc commented.

“Almost everyone vacated when the infection started,” (Y/N) explained. “I don’t even think there would be any Zs here. It’s probably only been ransacked lately.”

“It’s the only town for miles, it’s our best bet for resources,” Warren said. “We search the place where we can and see what we can find.” She turned to (Y/N) to add, “Do you want to go home? Just to see the place if nothing else?”

(Y/N) was dying to get home, but she didn’t want anyone on the team to see her as weak or fragile. Although she knew they wouldn’t think any different of her if she did show some weakness, in this day and age, your biggest threat was to be perceived as weak to anyone.

Before she could respond, 10k spoke up. “I think you should. It’ll give you a break from everything, and you can be closer to your parents for even just a moment.”

(Y/N) had a hard time saying no to 10k, especially when parents were involved. She knew he wanted nothing more than to be close to his own father again, but, like (Y/N), 10k hadn’t been home in nearly a year. He didn’t even know if his own home was still standing. If she turned down this opportunity that she knew 10k wanted so bad in front of him, she’d never forgive herself.

“It would be nice,” she admitted.

“You go then honey,” Warren said, her voice soft and kind. “10k, you go with her for protection. Meet us back here before sundown. We’ll wait a little while, but not too long.”

The two youngest members left in the opposite direction of the group. (Y/N) led 10k down the still familiar roads. They weren’t too far from the house and, before she knew it, (Y/N) was stood in front of her childhood home. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

All the windows were smashed and the door was practically ripped off of the hinges. They entered with weapons raised in case of a Z attack. (Y/N)’s heart broke to see the place ransacked and destroyed. Every picture her parents had hung were smashed to pieces. Only one remained partially in tact, one of (Y/N) and her parents when she was barley a year old. They were on their first vacation as a family to visit someone in another state. The picture was of the three of them on the beach together. Baby (Y/N) was in her mother’s arms, taken by the sand in her tiny hands while her parents were smiling brightly at the camera.

10k looked over her shoulder as her eyes began to water. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“I got that a lot,” she said. “We were basically twins. Dad said I got lucky with mom’s genes.”

She held the picture close to her chest as she moved up the stairs to where the bedrooms and main bathroom was. Whoever had broken in must’ve found what they wanted on the first floor because the bedrooms were relatively untouched. Every poster and picture (Y/N) had on her walls were still there. Her old laptop was even still there, although she doubted that it worked anymore.

“It’s weird,” she said. “It feels like I’ve been gone for years, but this room looks exactly the way I left it, like not a day has past.”

“Anything here you want to take with you?” 10k asked.

(Y/N) shook her head. “I took most of the important stuff when we left first. There’s nothing but memories here now.”

She was so lost in her own thoughts - memories of when things were good - that she didn’t hear 10k leave the room to walk into the bathroom until he spoke again. “The water still runs.”

She walked into the bathroom to find clean water running from the tap. She put a hand under the water, feeling it go from freezing cold to comfortably warm in seconds.

“The power and stuff must still be running,” she said. “Good news for us. I haven’t showered in ages.”

“You think it’s safe?” 10k asked, but (Y/N) was already placing her weapons on the bathroom counter and shedding herself of her top layers.

“I’m willing to take one for the team if it means I’ll be clean when I die,” she joked. “You can watch the door and make sure no Zs or no more looters come in. I’ll leave my gun close enough that I can use it if need be.”

10k nodded. Before he could get the chance to turn back on, (Y/N) grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. For a split second, 10k saw the black bra she was wearing. It was old and worn, probably one of the only ones she had left. Due to this, it was basically falling apart, so when he got a brief glance of the bra, he also got a glance of one of her breasts.

10k’s eyes widened as he quickly turned his back so that (Y/N) didn’t know. He stood in the doorway, listening over the sound of the shower running for any indication of someone, or something, breaking into the house.

The warm water running over (Y/N) caused her to let out a moan of relief. It had been so long since she had properly bathed. The warm water of the familiar shower felt like heaven to her.

Outside the shower, 10k was shuffling awkwardly. He and (Y/N) had been close since they had first met, but they had only ever viewed each other as friends and Z fighting colleagues. He didn’t understand why he was starting to have this feeling about her. Maybe it was just boy hormones and the fact that she was a naked girl just a few feet away from him. But it felt like more than that. Maybe it had always been more than that but he was just afraid to admit it.

Before he could stop himself, 10k silently placed his gun next to hers on the toilet cover. He began to shed himself of his own clothes, working quickly and quietly as to not disturb her. (Y/N) had her head back with the water running over her hair and body when 10k pulled the curtain back and stepped in. She opened her eyes to look at him, shocked by his sudden appearance. She looked him up and down for a moment, her face giving away nothing.

“Gotta save water,” 10k said, trying to lighten the mood.

A smile broke out across (Y/N)’s face as a small giggle came from her lips. “Come here, 10k.”

She put a hand on the back of his neck at the same time that his hands found her waist. Their lips collided and it felt like the most right thing in the terrible, fucked up world around them. 10k’s lips moved against (Y/N)’s perfectly, as if they were supposed to be there, to be kissing her so deeply. His hands wandered over her dripping body, touching every inch of her soft skin with his calloused hands.

(Y/N) let out a sudden squeal as 10k lifted her effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist. She was shocked at his strength. Sure, he wasn’t as scrawny and wimpy as he may have looked, but he certainly wasn’t the strongest person in the world. He’s just full of surprises, (Y/N) noted as his lips connected with hers again.

His hard boner was against her aching core, teasing her ever so slightly with every gently brush against her. She whimpered against his lips when she felt him brush against her opening, trying to ground her hips against his to feel her inside of him. Knowing that she wanted this as much as he did made him even more turned on. He was almost afraid that he wouldn’t be able to make this moment last long enough.

He helped to guide her down onto his hard length, causing (Y/N) to gasp as he filled her entirely.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked her, suddenly realizing that he had no idea what (Y/N)’s sexual past was like.

“No,” she responded, her voice breathless and airy. “I just haven’t had sex in a very long time. I forgot how good it felt.”

10k smiled at her and pressed his lips against hers again. He pressed her back against the nearest wall and slowly began to thrust himself into her. (Y/N)’s back arched against the wall, trying to get as close to 10k as she possibly could.

He was slow and gentle, which drove (Y/N) even more wild. She held on around his neck as if her life depended on it, moaning and gasping against his lips with every thrust he pushed into her. She could barley even think straight, her mind focusing only on the pleasure that 10k was providing her.

“Is this alright?” he asked, his voice soft.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Sweet 10k, always thinking of the comfort of others, even when he was in the middle of the most intense shower sex (Y/N) had ever had.

“It’s more than alright,” she responded. “God, it feels so fucking good.”

10k had heard (Y/N) swearing many times, but hearing the expletive word slip from her breathless voice in that moment drove him wild. He rested his head against her shoulder, groaning as he pushed his hips against hers again, filling her completely.

“You feel so good,” he told her. “You’re so soft and warm, fuck.”

“Who would’ve thought that sweet 10k had a dirty side?” (Y/N) giggled.

“You must not know me well enough, then.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Her thought was cut short as 10k pulled almost completely out of her then filled her again. Her mind was clouded with lust as she tried to rock her hips against his, begging for the release she wanted.

Noticing her desperation, 10k wrapped one arm around her lower back and slipped his free hand between them. (Y/N) gasped as his fingers connected with her swollen nerves and began to rub circles in them. She could feel a familiar pressure building inside of her. She clung to 10k’s shoulders, curses falling from her mouth in between moans of pleasure. Her legs began to shake as she felt herself hitting her climax. She threw her head back and called 10k’s name - his real name - in pleasure.

Feeling her walls contracting around him caused 10k to feel his own climax approaching. He held on to her hips as his thrusts became a little faster. Before he knew it, his eyes were nearly rolling back into his head as he felt himself filling her with his warm cum. The feeling of the warmth inside of her was enough to almost turn (Y/N) on again.

They stayed tangled together for a moment, completely forgetting about the running water cascading down onto them. It wasn’t until the warm water started to turn cold that they realized it was probably time for the two of them to get out.

Luckily for them, whoever looted the house also didn’t think to take any of the towels in the upstairs linen closet, so they had a way to dry themselves off. Before she started pulling her clothes on, 10k wrapped his arms around (Y/N) again and kissed her exposed shoulders and neck before placing one last sweet kiss against her lips.

“We should tell the others about the running water,” he said as he pulled his clothes back on. “If this place is relatively Z-less, we could probably get away with staying here for a while.”

“We’ve stayed in worst looking places,” (Y/N) agreed. “I’m sure everyone else is dying to clean themselves, too. There’s enough room for everyone to sleep with all the bedrooms and the couch downstairs.”

The reminder of the wreckage when they first entered caused a melancholy mood to wash over (Y/N) again. Noticing this, 10k brought her into his arms and held her tightly.

“I’m sorry about your house,” he said. “I’m sorry someone did this to you, that they took all the memories of this place.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “They didn’t take the memories. No one could ever take that from this place. Besides, I’d like to make some new memories here...with you.”

10k smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I think we’ve already started with that.”

(Y/N) giggled and pulled away from him. “Let’s go find everyone to tell them before they leave us abandoned.”

[binnieboyswhore]

Bunny

Pairing: Changbin x Reader Genre: smut Word count:1,723 Warnings: Pet play (he just calls you bunny nothing more than that), Hickeys and of course Sex Authors note: Sorry this has taken so long to get out, i’ve been trying to write like five things at once and my head gets jumbled. Also sorry if this is trash, i deleted it all and re wrote it idk how many times but i need to put something out.

Please if you are under the age of 18 do not interact. Thank you :)

Normally going with Binnie to music video sets wasn’t that big of a deal as you always made food for the boys and helped waste time with them, today though was different. You set down the food you had brought, the boys thanking you one by one as you find a corner to snuggle into. Your body exhausted from the over stimulation of the night before thanks to Changbin.

Chan passes by you on his way to the food table, “You okay Y/N?”

You open your eyes and smile softly at him, “ya, just extra sleepy today.”

He smiles cutely at you, “okay hold on” he sticks his finger up at you and retreats back to the room he was in returning with a blanket.

“Stay cozy,” he said, laying it on top of you.

You mumble out a soft “thanks Channie” and he pats you on the head and goes to join the other boys.

You lay there eyes closed but unable to fall asleep instead focusing on Changbin theatrically re telling the story of how he had to “save” you from a spider in the bathtub last night. He went on and on about you screaming and how he basically had to wrestle the spider cause it was so big when Han had thrown in “are you sure the spider was big or are you just that small?”

You could hear Binnie grunt at his remark wishing he could smack him in the back of the head but showing restraint. The group went on to discuss other things and go from topic to topic.

What Binnie didn’t mention was how you showed your gratitude towards your hero and how one blowjob accidentally turned into hours of him just obliterating your pussy. Just at the thought of last night, between your legs grew damp and you faintly felt his hand wrapped around your throat. You’re breathing started to become heavy as you tried to think of anything else besides Bins head between your legs. As you squeezed your thighs you felt someone lay on the couch behind you and as you felt the hand that gripped onto you you can’t help but feel a little devastated.

“Wakey, wakey.” The deep Australian voice whispered in your ear.

“What do you want Felix?” You mumble, “I’m trying to take a nap.”

“You’re kidding yourself if you think you actually are, I give it 10 minutes before Jisung and Hyunjin start opera singing for no reason” he giggled. You roll your eyes while turning on your side to face him.

“Why are you so tired anyway? You texted me you were going to bed early.” Felix said repositioning his head on his arm.

“Ya, I was but then ya know Binnie.” You said feeling the heat on your cheeks.

“God you guys are like bunnies, are you ever not doing it?” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Well we’re not right now and we very much could be so be thankful.” You huff at him.

“You’re so gross. Anyways after this we’re all gonna do a movie night at the dorm, do you wanna come?”

You thought about it, go home and sleep or stay around these hooligans and spend time with your boyfriend? “Ya I guess I’ll come but I’m not bringing anything.”

“Great, I already baked some stuff so don’t worry.” He said, his smile growing and roughing up your hair. You “hmph” at him as you try to fix your hair, exposing the hickey right behind your ear.

“You forgot one.” You stare at him in confusion until he pokes it with his finger. Your eyes go wide bringing your hand up to cover it. “Don’t worry stay here and I’ll go grab some green concealer.”

You nod your head in thanks as you sit up covering it with your hair knowing if Minho or Jisung got a glimpse of it they wouldn’t let you or Binnie live it down. Thankfully he hurried back with a small bag and a sponge and got to dotting and blending the make up in.

“Next time, tell him to not be so rough,” Felix said, putting everything away.

“Who says it’s him making it rough?” You smirk at him and he scrunches his nose at you. You can’t help but let out a loud laugh catching everyone’s attention, including the eyes of your boyfriend who was playing some slap game with Jisung.

Binnie, noticing how close you and Felix were came sauntering over, sitting next to you wrapping his arm around your waist, “Secrets don’t make friends.” he said, feeling left out.

“I know they make best friends.” You said kissing his cheek and smiling at him.

“We weren't telling secrets anyway, I was telling her she needs to tell you to stop being so rough with her.” Felix told him matter of factly.

“Hey,” Binnie says, grabbing you under your chin, “if bunny wants it rough bunny gets it rough. I could never say no to this cute face.” he kisses you smiling knowing he’s grossing out Felix.

“Y/n please tell your boyfriend to stop being gross.” Felix says, his nose scrunching once again.

You lean into Binnie resting your head on his shoulder, “Why? Would you tell bunny no?” you tease him pouting your bottom lip.

Felix's cheeks turn bright red at the thought of being there with you and Binnie in a sexual situation. “You guys are no fun.” He says getting up and heading to snuggle with what looks like Han.

You look at Changbin who’s already staring at you, “What?” you question him.

“I just missed you.” He said, cocking his head to the side like a puppy.

“Binnie you literally spent the night at my house and we drove here together. How could you possibly miss me?” You say giggling at him.

He gives you another kiss and grabs your hand, placing it over his crotch, feeling his stiffening cock you open your eyes, “Here?” you asked in a hushed whisper.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.” he says sincerely studying your face.

You start to remember your thoughts before Felix had interrupted them, “Where would we go?” you grab his hand.

He smiles at you grabbing your hand back and dragging you out of their room and down a hallway as he checks every door, you follow holding the blanket Chan gave you close around your shoulders. Every door Changbin had tried had been locked and you were whispering for him to hurry before Chan caught you guys and finally he pulled a door open and not really looking in it he pulled you in closing the door behind him. He laid his lips on you heavily, rubbing his hand all over the wall to find a light switch.

Your hip bumped something and a loud clang happened, you jumped a lightbulb smacking the back of your head. You reach up to turn it on and look to see what has fallen then look around where you are and changbin and you start laughing. Of course the only door that would open would be the janitors closet and on the floor was a mess of brooms and mops.

Changbin had found a table and continued with what he came here to do, you. He grabbed the side of your head capturing your lips in a kiss backing you into said table. Grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling them up for you to jump, he set you top of it, moving his mouth to kiss down your neck.

You reached out to start unbuttoning his shirt when he grabbed your hands chuckling, “We don’t have time for foreplay babe, I’ve gotta be on the floor in like 15 minutes.”

He reaches his hand down between the band of your pants rubbing his fingers on your clit that was very much so still sore from the night before. You let out a moan as his finger gathered your slick from between your folds.

“Geez that fast?” Changbin says smirking

Your cheeks burn a shade of red, “Don’t get shy, I think it’s hot.” He says leaving kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

He quickly uses the slick that he built up on his fingers to cover his cock as a makeshift lube. He lowered your pants just enough to slide himself inside you, wasting no time he grabbed onto the table and started pounding into you causing you to yelp and moan. You could hear every grunt he let out with his lips being right next to your ear, only feeding into the building knot in your stomach. You use your hands to keep yourself stable on the table but with the roughness that Changbin is pounding into you with was making it difficult.

“Binnie, please” you whine, throwing your head back “I need to come.”

He brings his ring clad fingers between the two of you, finding your clit and begins rubbing it in rough circles, trying to milk every nerve in your body for this orgasm. He knows he’s on the brink of achieving it when your walls begin to spasm around him.

“Come on then, come for me bunny.” Binnie whispers to you as his hips snap harder and hand rubs you faster.

You begin to let go and just as your moan slips past your lips the door swings open and Chan barges in, “Bin let’s go- OH MY GOD.” He steps back out of the room as he makes eye contact with you completely ruining your orgasm and making you scream.

You take the blanket and cover yourself with it as you hear more feet come running down the hall.

“Stop, don’t go in there.” You hear Chan say to whoever is approaching.

Binnie looks at you with big eyes trying not to laugh mean while you look like you’re about to cry.

“Is Y/N okay?” You hear Felix's voice question with worry.

“I’m fine,” you yell at him, “Chan just scared me.”

“What’re they doing?” Felix asks Chan.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Chan answers, annoyance very evident in his tone.

“Ugh, are you guys ever not fucking.” Felix yells.

Binnie can’t help but laugh looking at you blush, “I don’t call her bunny for nothing.”

[tteokdoroki]

hello! if you’re still doing these could i please request 7 with Bakugou?

if you’re not taking them pls delete !! 💕

katsuki bakugou x gn!reader.

tteokdoroki teaparty event masterpost!!

♡ prompt #7  —  reader has a secret admirer, character of choice doesn’t know how to confess.

♡ genre: everyone, fluff + slight angst.

♡ word count: 1.8K

♡ warnings: cursiing!

♡ author’s notes: thank you for requestiing my lovely !!

yet again, warmth spreads underneath your skin and across your chest at the sight of the chocolates displayed cutely across your desk. for the last week or so, you’d received a flurry of gifts from an unknown admirer— each attached to a sweet note, written with such deep feelings that every time you read one your heart thumped loudly in your chest.  

“let me guess, another one?” mina swoons from your right, joining you in the empty classroom for the day ahead. pink hair tickles at the junction between your head and your shoulder as she reaches for the box of sweets in your grip— you don’t bother putting up a fight, knowing she’d take it from you anyway. “that’s like the third time this week, yn.”

bowing your head shyly, you run your fingers over the small note that lays unfolded on your desk. ‘for you, i’d do anything.’ it reads and you wonder for the umpteenth time; you out of all of classmates is capable of writing such a thing. “i know, i really wish i knew who’s sending them— no ones ever quite done something like this for me before.” you voice is quiet and hopeful, a contrast to the bustling energetic babbles that come from your third year classmates as they filter in for the day ahead. you scan them all to look for a possible source, knowing that your heart could belong to anyone of them.

“it’s gotta be deku!” kaminari cuts through your train of thought like a knife through butter— throwing his arm around your shoulders as he plucks the box of chocolates from mina’s grip, much to her annoyance. “he’s like the sweetest dude in the class, there’s no way it could be anyone else. we’re not capable of cute shit like that.” you roll your eyes and allow your friend to tear open the box for a morning treat but let your gaze slip over to where izuku chats animatedly with ochako. not him.

jirou is next to speak, ripping the box from the blonde to take it to her desk beside yours. kaminari whines as the girl divides up the sweet snacks for, taking one for both herself and mina. chaos is ensuing and yet again, your friends are the centre of it. “nah, my bet’s on sato...how else would yn be getting so many sweet treats every day?”

the group falls silent, mulling over the choice as you finally take a seat and swipe one of the chocolates for yourself. popping it into your mouth, you huff in frustration.

“doesn’t make sense, everything gifted to me so far has been insanely exclusive or expensive...some are even my favourites from abroad and— i don’t speak to sato enough for him to know them...“ you admit, pawing your cheeks with embarrassment.

“maybe it’s kirishima then! you guys are always together and he kinda seems like the romantic type..?” your pink haired friend suggests and the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. it was true, you were both always together— even if it was in the presence of others like bakugou and kaminari— and had more than enough in common, from music tastes to gaming. you could see the hardening hero as someone you’d go for as well, eijirou was an obvious choice. “what do you think, bakugou?”

you peek up from the note ( neatly folded ) and box of chocolates ( now returned ) that sit on your desk, catching the arrival of your final three friends. bakugou, sero and kirishima himself. you feel body flush with warmth as you catch the latter’s ruby eyed gaze and give him a small wave accompanied by a smile; that kirishima quickly returns.  

the blonde however, tsks at mina’s question before making his way to his seat. you considered yourself and katsuki to be good friends; it was usually quiet whenever you too were around one another which was a nice change of pace from his usual rowdy personality— but the majority of your time with each other was spent with him teasing you for your quirk.

“‘m callin’ bullshit. whoever this is should hurry up and face how they feel. the candy shit is stupid.” bakugou growls out, throwing his backpack onto the desk; ready to begin class. in all three years of knowing him, he’d never showed any signs of romantic interest towards anyone in your class, especially you. meaning that your admirer, definitely bakugou.

you turn away from him and your group of friends to face the board, ignoring how they scold him for his harsh words. “right, stupid...” you sigh quietly, just as aizawa enters the room.

ever since your brief conversation with the explosive boy himself, bakugou had been increasingly rude to you throughout the day and it was starting to get on your last nerves. at first, it had been subtle— bumping you in the corridors between classes, pretending he didn’t have an extra pen for you when you knew that he carried spares for your friends who often forgot and then he’d straight up ignored your invitation to study during lunch like you usually did.

you figured that the blonde was having a bad day, bakugou was never usually this harsh to you and you could talk it out with him later. this behaviour was something you hadn’t seen from your friend since first year, and you almost believed that something else had been bothering him— until he almost blew you high into the sky during hero training that afternoon. of course you called him out on it, yelling at him in front of the entire class as your frustrations finally bubbled over but bakugou remained straight faced— leading to your current predicament.

aizawa thought it was best for the two of you to work things out over cleaning duties after school— something you thought you’d been well past seeing as you were third years now. mature, grown up third years who knew how to talk about their problems. apparently, katsuki bakugou was not one of them. even while you rearranged chairs and swept under desks, he still managed to crawl under your skin with petty remarks and hums of disapproval.

it’s only when you realised that katsuki had been actively trying to avoid your gaze or rather, your entire presence— that you snapped, dropping the broom you held in your hands and letting it clatter to the floor beside him, ultimately grabbing his attention.

“are you fucking insane—?”

“what the hell is your problem, bakugou?” you slice right through his words, a quiet rage flooding your bloodstream as you glare down at him. the boy himself looks dumbfounded, having never heard you talk to him in such away, before and stops shelving the books he had been holding. “did i do something to you?”

“like I’d let you do anythin’ to piss me off.”

god, he infuriates you. you step closer to the blonde, who stands at least half a head taller than you and shove at his chest as best you can— needing an outlet for your frustrations. “then why have you been acting like an asshole all day? first you blow me off and then you quite literally blow me up, and now? you’re avoiding me?” your fists curl in his untucked shirt, tugging at it as all of your emotions spill out into the space between you. “i don’t know what i did, but it doesn’t mean you get to treat your friend like shit, katsuki. you’ve been so mean to me today!”

bakugou looks away, avoiding your eyes that cloud with a sadness he can’t bare to face. you tell yourself not to cry, hating the way your bottom lip wobbles at his change in attitude. “’m mean to everyone, there’s nothin’ special about you.” he excuses himself, trying to step away from you.

“but not to me, you know that,” your voice shakes, everything you’d held back finally slipping through opened cracks. why was he treating you this way? what had you done to deserve this? you glance up, trying to find his vermillion eyes and the answers that may lie behind them. “you’ve been acting so...so off, since this morning, when mina asked about my admirer. you called it stupid. is it so hard to believe that someone, that kirishima might even like me?” the grip you had on bakugou’s shirt loosens but you remain leaning against him, neither of you daring to breathe. “why should i even care what you think? you’ve never been one for romance...u-unless you count the manga that you read but i don’t know how that would...”

and then your babbling stops, realisation washing over you in heavy waves. bakugou appears visibly tense before you, fist clenching and unclenching by his aides as you process your own train of thought. he hadn’t been mean to you for the sake of it, he had been because he didn’t know how else to express his feelings of jealously. it wasn’t kirishima that had been sending you notes, no— it had been bakugou all along. “how that would relate to me...” you think out loud, feeling him flinch beneath your grip. “k-katsuki...do you have a crush on me?”

“...don’t...” the blonde warns, heat rushing to his cheeks at your very accusation. a smile comes rushing to your cheeks, the familiar warmth finding its way back into your chest. “don’t look at me like that, fucker. i-i’m not good at this emotion shit, you know that and this was easier than talking— yn, stop fucking lookin’ at me like that.”

the almost whine that slips from between katsuki’s lips makes your tummy fill with affectionate butterflies, causing you to finally let go of his poor shirt and throw your arms around him in a tight hug. bakugou hesitates for a moment, trying to decode the situation and decide for himself if this was real— but you decide to do the talking and tell him foot yourself. “can’t help it, not when i feel the same way about you, katsuki.” you knew that no matter who was behind your little gifts and love notes, your heart would belong to your admirer and your admirer alone. with a rush of adrenaline after feeling katsuki return your embrace, you lean up to press a soft lingering kiss to his chapped lips.

he tastes like honey and smoke, feels warm like a soft summer breeze but as your lips love together and speak a thousand unspoken confessions, the pair of you realise that you never want the moment to end. “i meant what i said in that last note,” bakugou hums softly, pressing his forehead to yours and holding you close as if you’re going to disappear or suddenly realise your feelings for him aren’t true. “i’d do anything for you...”

“anything?” for the second time that day, you swoon at the blonde’s words and peck his nose gently.

he nods once, lost in thought before speaking again. “except for buy you those fucking chocolates again. they’re fucking expensive, cost a shitload.”

you snort at that, leaning up to lock lips him again— who needed chocolate when you could kiss katsuki bakugou instead.

[anystalker707]

Spicy horror

Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral

Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)

a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn

"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.

"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.

Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.

"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.

"I hate you," he laughs.

After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.

"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."

"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."

"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."

Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"

"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"

Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.

We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.

"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.

Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.

"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.

No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.

"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."

"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"

"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.

"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"

"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.

"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.

"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."

For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.

The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.

"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.

"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.

Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.

"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.

"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"

"Does it offend you?" I smile.

"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"

I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"

"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.

We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.

Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.

Frank yawns.

"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.

"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.

"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.

Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.

"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.

"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"

Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.

"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.

"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."

"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.

"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"

I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."

"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."

"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."

"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."

I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"

Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.

"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.

"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."

"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.

"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."

"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.

"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."

"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.

"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.

A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.

"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"

"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.

Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.

"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."

Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.

"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.

"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"

Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.

Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.

"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.

A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.

"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.

I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.

Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.

Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.

Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.

I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.

Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.

Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.

"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.

Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.

"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."

"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.

Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.

I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.

Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.

"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."

Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.

"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.

"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."

Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.

Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.

I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.

"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."

I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Want of a Spider

Prompt: Just reread unwanted and God I forgot how good it was also if it was a book I would buy so many copies of it also could we get a oneshot of mabye a few years later after everything happened to see how the boys are doing I just want to see them happy together

Ah, yes, don’t we all? 

Read on Ao3 

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: implied/referenced panic attacks, nothing too severe, shapeshifting

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 6888

A child runs to a garden.

Five fae take the child as their own.

Slowly, the child grows into something new.

Set after the events of (Un)Wanted.

It starts slow.

 Slow enough that at first, Virgil’s not even sure it’s happening. The garden is…weird, to put it mildly, and it’s not like living with a bunch of fae is going to give anyone a baseline for what’s normal.

 He’s just finished baking a new batch of bread with Patton. Patton’s room smells amazing, the bread looks warm and soft and part of Virgil—a part that Roman and Janus have been slowly encouraging to speak up more—wants to grab it and rip a hunk off with his teeth, temperature be damned.

 Part of him would rather not have a burned tongue for the rest of the day, thank you very much. Then he won’t be able to actually enjoy the rest of the bread, just the too-sore feeling of his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

 …and part of him still doesn’t know how to eat properly. Or that it’s okay to want to eat.

 Patton must catch that last thought buzzing around because he looks over with a frown, reaching out to pinch the offending buzzing thing out of the air and squash it, rubbing his fingertips together until it poofs and disintegrates. The accompanying bubble of relief works its way through Virgil’s chest.

 “Thank you.”

 “Of course, kiddo, that seemed like a nasty one.” Patton finishes drying his hands off and surveys their handiwork. “Well! That went well.”

 Virgil snorts. “Ah, yes, I forget that throwing flour at whoever you’re baking with is always important.”

 “Don’t you look at me, you started it!” Patton points his finger at him. “You’re the one who threw it at me first.”

 Virgil blinks. “You bumped me while I was trying to measure it out.”

 “I did.” Patton nods. “And then you bumped me back.”

 “Yes. Bumped. I didn’t throw it at you.”

 “You did, however, decide to wipe it off my face without getting the rest of it off your own.”

 “Because you threw it at me!”

 Patton throws his head back and laughs, which of course makes Virgil laugh too because have you not seen his face when he laughs you try keeping a straight face. The memory of the two of them absolutely covered in flour, barely any of it in the bowl where it was supposed to go, is enough to make him scrub his hands through his hair to make sure that yes, he did in fact get all of it out.

 “Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” Patton murmurs as their giggles slow, shaking his head and going for the plates, “but I think that’s given the bread enough time to cool off.”

 “Does that mean we should call the others?”

 “If you want to.”

 Virgil closes his eyes and reaches, searching for the tether in his chest. It takes a few pokes and prods but eventually he feels something warm and pushes.

 “Hello, yes, hi, I heard something about fresh bread?” Roman pops up first, giving Virgil a gentle squeeze.

 “Don’t start without me!”

 “Hey!”

 Virgil giggles as Remus drops straight onto Roman, almost knocking them both to the ground. He hears an exasperated sigh behind him and turns, seeing Logan shake his head at the twins.

 “You would think,” he mutters to Virgil, “the two of them would develop a little more sense of spatial awareness after the first…oh, ten times they’ve knocked things over.”

 “I don’t think they’ve ever had to.”

 “You’re right.” Logan shakes his head again and turns to Patton. “It smells delicious, you two, congratulations.”

 “You haven’t tasted it yet,” Patton reminds, “we have to wait for—“

 “Fuck.”

 Virgil holds a hand to his chest as Janus chuckles, having appeared out of fucking nowhere just behind him as he turned to see where the snake was. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as Janus rubs a circle between his shoulder blades.

 “Sorry, little mouse,” Janus murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear, “I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.”

 “It’s fine.” He leans into the touch for a moment longer. “I, uh, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

 “Never, little mouse, you have my word.”

 “Thanks.”

 “Remus, I swear—“

 “Just let me go and it’ll be fine!”

 “Kiddos,” Patton scolds, all but prying the twins apart, “if you don’t stop fighting, there won’t be any bread left for you.”

 Virgil has to stifle a chuckle at how fast the two of them break apart, sitting and folding their hands in their laps to patiently wait for their bread. Judging by the way Janus presses a little closer behind him, he knows what’s going to happen before Patton turns to him.

 “Virgil? Would you like to do the honors?”

 “Uh, sure.” Virgil takes the bread knife hesitantly and examines the loaf. It looks too pretty to cut…but it smells incredible. “How—uh, how much does everyone want?”

 “If you let them,” Logan says wryly, “they’ll eat the whole loaf. Take what you want first.”

 “Will not!”

 “You, you absolutely will.”

 “Hey!”

 The knife hits the cutting board with a soft tap, the slice falling neatly onto the plate. Patton takes the knife when Virgil offers it, taking over the slicing as Virgil scoots around the edge of the counter to sit with his slice.

 It looks so..perfect. And as he lifts it up and bites into it—

 Yeah, he could eat this for the rest of his life and be happy.

 Judging by the way the rest of them devour the loaf, they agree.

 “You did wonderfully,” Logan murmurs amidst the smatterings of compliments, “this is delicious.”

 “Thanks.”

 “You must remind Patton to make this again with you, it tastes much better.”

 When he doesn’t answer right away, Logan glances up, smiling when he catches sight of his red cheeks. Leaning closer, he places his chin on Virgil’s shoulder and turns to whisper:

 “Don’t let Roman see that if you don’t want to blush any harder.”

 Now that right there is a very good point. In an effort to hide it, he takes another bite of the bread, only to frown when something’s different.

 Logan seems to notice and tilts his head. “Is there something wrong? Does it taste strange?”

 Virgil opens and closes his mouth a few times. “It feels gummy.”

 “Really?” Logan has another bit of his own. “It doesn’t taste that way to me, perhaps…?”

 “Here, try mine.”

 “…no, it still tastes the same. Have you had something to drink recently?”

 “Not as recently as I probably should.” Before he can blink, Logan’s holding out a glass of water. “Oh. Thanks.”

 “Let’s see if this helps.”

 Well, the gumminess is no longer in his mouth. He’s not sure if he can still feel it in the back of his throat. He takes another bite of the bread—and oh fuck is it good—and it seems to go away.

 “That might’ve been it.” But maybe it wasn’t.

 “We’ll keep an eye on it, though,” Logan says easily as if he can see where Virgil’s mind wants to go, “let us know if it changes, okay?”

 “I will.”

 Which is why, later, when he’s sitting out by the lake to watch the moon ripple across the surface of the water, he feels it return and coughs, coughs, coughs until something flies out of his throat.

 He frowns, bending down to stare at the thing glistening in the grass. He tilts his head.

 What the fuck?

 Something else is still in his throat. He coughs again, and more of it shoots out, sticking to the grass with a horrid sound.

 Okay, nope. He’s not dealing with this by himself.

 Remus? Remus, can you help me with something?

 Sure. Gimme a sec and I’ll drop in. Are you okay?

 Virgil takes another look at the glistening…thing on the grass.

 I don’t know.

 An instant later, the water bubbles and Remus rises up, propping himself up with his tentacles as he shakes the water off. Virgil throws his arms up to protect his face from the shower of droplets.

 “Oh, oops.”

 He waves a hand. “It’s fine, it’s just water.”

 “…yeah.”

 “Do I want to know what else was in that?”

 “Probably not.”

 Virgil sighs as Remus clambers up to sit next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder. Remus’s hand cards gently through his hair before prompting him to sit up.

 “What’s the problem, little monster? How can I help?”

 In response, Virgil points at the glistening mess on the grass In front of him. Remus leans forward, following Virgil’s finger, frowning until he spots the mess. His eyes widen.

 “Whoa. I’ve never seen that before.”

 Virgil’s heart sinks. If Remus has never seen it before…

 “Where’d it come from?” Remus looks over his shoulder. “Was it Ollie? Uma? One of the others?”

 Virgil shakes his head.

 “Really? So Roman’s babies did that? Huh, I gotta tell him, he’s gonna get a kick outta that.”

 “No.”

 Remus frowns at the truly quiet noise Virgil makes. He nudges him gently. “No? No what, little monster?”

 “It—“ Virgil swallows the gummy thing in his mouth— “it wasn’t Roman’s.”

 Remus’s frown deepens. “Then what—“

 His eyes go giant when Virgil coughs up another one. It lands on the grass with a splat.

 “…oh.”

 Virgil turns to him so fast he can feel his neck protesting. “Oh? Oh what, what does ‘oh’ mean?”

 Remus smiles. He smiles so wide it makes Virgil’s face hurt by proxy. His eyes dart back and forth between Remus and the stuff on the ground.

 “Remus, what?”

 “You’re changing,” Remus says softly, still smiling as he reaches out to pull Virgil close, “you’re changing, Virgil, that’s it.”

 Um, excuse me, no part of that is reassuring, thank you very much.

 “What do you mean I’m ‘changing?’”

 “You bonded to us, Virgil,” Remus continues, “you opened that connection.”

 “Okay…?”

 “That means—well, it means you’re no longer fully human, little monster.”

 Wait, what?

 He’s—

 “You mean I’m part fae now?”

 Remus nods. “You’re one of us, little monster, you’re ours. Which means that some of your magic—“

 “I have magic?”

 “Everything has magic, Virgil. But yeah, it means through that connection your magic’s starting to get a bit of its own shape.”

 Virgil looks back down at the mess. It looks…well, it doesn’t look quite so scary anymore. In fact, as he looks at it, there are parts of it that he may actually be able to call…

 …pretty.

 “My own shape?”

 “Jan-Jan looks like a snake, yeah?”

 “Except he’s got six arms.”

 Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense to me either. But Janny’s a snake, I’ve got tentacles, Logan runs a little colder than the rest of us, and Pat’s got an impressive sense of smell.”

 “…what about Roman?”

 “Roman’s magic just kinda…” Remus wiggles his fingers. “Does that. You’ve seen it.”

 “Yeah…yeah, I’ve seen it.”

 “He spoils you.”

 “…he tries.”

 Remus gives him another gentle nudge to show he understands. Then he nods to the grass.

 “That’s probably the start of it, little monster.”

 “Will it hurt?”

 The shameful question bursts out before he can stop it and he winces, curling his arms tightly around himself. Remus just wraps his arms around him too, holding him close.

 “I don’t know, Virgil.” He tightens his grip. “But I do know you won’t have to do this alone.”

 The dark pit in his chest softens ever so slightly. He tucks his head under Remus’s.

 “I know.”

 He goes to Logan next. Knocks on his door and waits patiently—okay, maybe not that patiently—for Logan to open it and tilt his head.

 “You needn’t do that, you can ask for me directly if you like,” he says after he’s welcomed Virgil inside.

 “I know, I just…felt better doing that.”

 “I understand.” Logan smiles and adjusts his glasses. “What can I help you with?”

 “I, um…” He shifts his weight from side to side. “I found something.”

 “Oh? What did you find?”

 “Do you remember when I said the bread tasted gummy?” Logan nods. “Well, I, um, found out why.”

 Logan’s eyes widen as Virgil holds out a dish with some of the stuff on it. He takes it slowly, adjusting his glasses again as he stares down at the glistening substance. His eyes dart from it to Virgil and back.

 “Remus said I was changing,” Virgil offers, “because of the bond, and I just—I just wanted—“

 He swallows.

 “…wanted to know if it would hurt,” he finishes lamely.

 Logan takes a deep breath and sets the dish aside, reaching for his notebook and flipping it open. He scribbles something down and looks up, a smile slowly forming on his face.

 “I’m incredibly glad,” he says softly, “that the bond is holding and that you are staying.”

 “Wait, there was a chance it wouldn’t work?”

 “There was a chance it wouldn’t be formed at all,” Logan corrects, “not that it would fade once it was made.”

 “So...?”

 “So you’re one of us now, Virgil,” Logan says, holding up the dish, “this proves it.”

 “What is that?”

 Logan’s smile grows. “I’ve got no idea. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

 He beckons Virgil closes, moving across his room to…an area with machines that Virgil has never seen before. He watches as Logan carefully separates a piece of the substance to place on the bed of…what looks like a giant box but what is probably so much more complicated.

 “You can come closer if you like.”

 He shakes himself, looking up to see Logan considering him curiously.

 “Sorry.”

 “No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Logan lets their shoulders brush together as he comes to join him. “This is one of my favorite tools.”

 “What’s it called?”

 “I call it the universal scanner, though I believe Roman calls it the Answer Box.”

 “The what?”

 “It answers most of the basic questions I can have about something, I suppose.”

 “So he called it the Answer Box?”

 “I don’t believe Roman’s ever claimed to be the best at naming things.”

 Virgil snorts. “Then you were not there for the argument the two of them had over who was naming Oliver’s new adopted jellyfish.”

 Logan shudders. “No, and I’m quite glad for that.”

 The scanner begins to beep, little pulses of light going off around the stuff lying so innocuously in the middle. As it keeps going, something starts to twist in Virgil’s chest.

 What if something’s wrong? What if this isn’t a sign of Virgil changing and it’s something dangerously wrong with him? What if he’s changing and it’s bad? What if they decide they don’t like him or he’s dangerous?

 What if they realize the—

 —the humans were right?

 A rush of cool surges up his arm and he breathes, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeeze. Logan squeezes back, stepping a little closer and watching as the machine slows down. Across the room, one of Logan’s screens lights up. He gives Virgil’s hand one last squeeze before stepping away, going to look at the results.

 “What does it say?”

 “Chemical composition, tensile strength,” Logan murmurs, “as well as magical signature.”

 “Magical signature?”

 “Who it belongs to,” Logan clarifies, shooting him a smile over his shoulder, “you, Virgil.”

 “I have a magical signature?”

 “You do.”

 He looks down at his hands, turning them over. “What does it look like?”

 Logan thinks for a moment. “Do you remember the colors that your aura turns when the Claims are shown?” Virgil nods. “The colors are the various signatures.”

 “So yours is…?”

 “Dark blue, I believe. Roman’s is red, Remus’s is green. Patton’s is light blue.”

 “Janus’s is yellow, I guess.”

 “I believe he prefers ‘gold.’”

 “He’s so pretentious,” Virgil mutters, “gold, honestly. Shut up, it’s fucking yellow.”

 Logan chuckles. “You can tell him that if you’d like.”

 “Maybe I will.”

 “But to answer your question,” Logan continues, “your magical signature is your color.”

 “…which is what?”

 Logan looks at him strangely. “Do you not remember?”

 “Remember?” Virgil shuffles nervously. “Remember what?”

 “The day you were taken,” Logan says softly, sending a dark bolt through Virgil’s stomach, “and we brought you home, do you remember what happened in the garden?”

 V jolts awake, flails desperately, against Roman, against Logan, against Patton.

 “V, V, honey,” Patton tries, “you’re safe, honey, it’s just us, kiddo—“

 “Virgil.”

 Virgil breathes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Logan sends another calming pulse into the air, calling his name quietly until he can look up.

 “My apologies,” Logan murmurs, “I did not mean to do that.”

 “It’s fine, you didn’t—“ he takes a breath— “you didn’t mean to.”

 Logan accepts it with a nod. “I merely meant that your aura was particularly strong that day,” he says quietly, “and perhaps you remembered it. But you did not, and that’s okay.”

 “Sorry.”

 “You haven’t done anything wrong, Virgil, it’s alright, there’s no need to apologize.”

 He blinks, looking back at the bed of the scanner. “So what is it?”

 “Simply put? It’s a web.”

 Virgil blinks, longer this time. “A what?”

 “A web, Virgil,” Logan repeats, “your web.”

 A web, that means—that means that Virgil—he’s—

 “So what am I going to be?”

 “I believe…” Logan turns the screen to face him. Virgil’s eyes widen.

 “A spider?”

 “I believe so, yes.”

 “But—“

 Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil cuts himself off abruptly, all but clapping a hand over his mouth.

 “But,” he prompts softly, “but what?”

 “…nothing.”

 He tilts his head.

 “It’s fine.”

 “You don’t have to lie to me.”

 “I just…” well, the more he thinks about it, the stupider it sounds. He’s trying really hard to not say it out loud, but…

 “You can tell me,” Logan says softly, “I won’t be upset.”

 “…but no one likes spiders,” he whispers, shame burning the inside of his throat where he can feel another web forming.

 Logan is quiet for a moment. Then—

“Come here.”

 Virgil’s head jerks up. “What?”

 Logan holds out his arm. “Come here, little one.”

 And Logan looks so sincere that he can’t help it, ducking under his arm and letting him gather him close to his chest. Logan hums gently, tucking Virgil’s head under his chin and holding him tight.

 “We like you, little one,” he murmurs, “and everyone else can leave you alone.”

 “…really?”

 “Yes, really,” Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “you’re wonderful, little one.”

 And Virgil opens his mouth to say something equally nice like ‘I like you too’ or even just ‘thank you,’ but nope, instead he has to cough out a web like a rude person.

 Luckily, Logan just chuckles again and gives him a gentle squeeze. “I must say, I’m curious about how that works. Would you mind if I helped you figure it out?”

 “Please.”

 So that’s how he ends up spending a lot of time with Logan, figuring out how much web he can shoot, how to do it on command so it’s not happening all the time, how to hold onto some of it so he can pull stuff towards him like a frog—apparently Patton gets a kick out of that when he tells him—and how to make sure it’s not constantly living in the back of his throat. It’s a fucking blast, actually, and he definitely uses it when Logan gets into an argument with Remus to ‘accidentally’ cough a web into his face. It’s priceless.

 That doesn’t mean it’s all good stuff, though.

 He wakes up one night with his room covered in webs, sticking to every single available surface, tying him up so he can barely move. His mouth runs dry, his throat aches. He blinks a few times and can’t get the gummy feeling to go away.

 Patton, Patton I—I—

 Virgil? Kiddo, can I come to you?

 Help me—

 “Hey, hey,” he hears not a moment later, right next to his head, “hey, kiddo, shh, you’re okay, I’m right here.”

 “P-Pat?”

 “Yeah, honey.” Patton waves his hand and a little glow appears in the corner of the room. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

 Virgil breathes, wincing when he feels the strands of the webs again. Patton makes a sympathetic noise.

 “Do you want me to get rid of them?” At Virgil’s insistent nod, he waves his hand again and they vanish. “They’re gone now, kiddo, it’s okay. Can you sit up for me?”

 Patton wraps his arms tightly around him and holds him close, warm, warm, warm, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

 “Shh, shh, you’re okay, nightmare?”

 “Yeah.”

 Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

 “I think—“ Virgil swallows— “I think that’s why the webs came out.”

 Patton nods. “I can see they trapped a lot of it for you.”

 Virgil blinks. “Wait, what?”

 “The little buzzing things, the ones that love to fly around you.” He tips Virgil’s head to cup his cheeks, brushing his thumb along the curve of his face. “The ones I can dust off for you?”

 “What about them?”

 Patton nods toward the rest of the room. “Your webs were trapping most of them, kiddo, making it so you weren’t as badly affected.”

 “O-oh.” He swallows again. “But I—I didn’t like it.”

 “Making them when you weren’t in control?” Virgil nods. “I can understand that, it must’ve been scary to wake up with a room full of webs.”

 Virgil nods again, shifting a little closer to Patton. Wait—

 “If the webs were holding them,” he starts, “then why…why aren’t they coming back?”

 Patton chuckles. “They know better than to try and touch you when I’m here.”

 Virgil hums, burrowing into Patton’s chest and letting him idly flick away the few that dare get close. And yeah, that…that makes sense, but he would rather not be coughing up webs while he’s unconscious. For one, his throat still hurts.

 Patton just gently lays his hand against Virgil’s neck and strokes, once, twice, three times, encouraging him to swallow. He does, sighing at the rush of warmth that comes with it.

 “Good,” Patton murmurs, “do you want help to make the webs before you go back to sleep?”

 “Help to make them?”

 “We can set up a little bubble so they get caught, and so you won’t have to do it asleep.”

 “You—you’d help me?”

 Something flashes behind Patton’s eyes for a moment before it’s replaced by a soft smile. “Of course, sweetheart, I’ll always help you.”

 Virgil shifts a bit closer. “Can we stay like this for a little longer first?”

 “Of course, kiddo, you come here.”

 The webs help. A little. It takes some getting used to, and there’s definitely still times when he wakes up and his throat is all gummy from nightmares, but it does help.

 Then, of course, there are the new legs.

 Virgil’s eyes shoot open as something cracks. He floats, unaware of what’s happening, as cracks continue to shake the floor of the room. His head rolls to the side. What’s happening? Why can’t he feel anything? There’s just this white-hot tinge to the corners of his vision, almost as if he’s springing up out of his body, what—

 —no.

 No, no, no, he made it out.

 He was free, they were going to keep him safe, how—

 He gasps.

 Pain floods his senses, turning his blood white and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His jaw aches after the first few seconds and it aches, it truly does, and as his head lolls to the side all he can think about is how the wood at the bottom of the door doesn’t quite reach the floor.

 A golden thread inside of him snaps taut and yanks.

 “Virgil? Virgil!”

 “J?”

 “Yes, little mouse, it’s me,” Janus’s voice calls from somewhere above him, “I’m right here, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

 “It—it hurts, I—“

 “Shh, shh—oh, darling.” A gloved hand touches his cheek to catch the tears. “Oh, little mouse, tell me what’s so awful, what’s hurting you?”

 Another sharp crack rings out and Janus makes a noise.

 “Virgil, you’re going to have to roll over.”

 Moving of any sort feels like the actual worst, thank you very much.

 “They’re trying to come out of your back, darling, any pressure on them is going to make it worse.”

 Blinking through the haze of white, Virgil manages to stare up at Janus. He watches his mouth thin to a hard line.

 “Come on, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, gently tucking his hand under Virgil’s cheek, “roll toward me, I’ll catch you, but you have to get off your back.”

 At the gentle urging of the thread, Virgil closes his eyes and rolls.

 “Good,” Janus soothes, cradling him as they lie down on the floor, “good job, darling, I’ve got you, little mouse, it’s alright.”

 “What’s—what’s happening?”

 “You’re changing, sweetie.” Janus rubs a circle into his lower back, away from the pain, “that’s all it is. Shh, shh, I know it hurts, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

 “Make it stop,” he whines, burying his face shamelessly into the crook of Janus’s neck, “it hurts.”

 “I know, sweetie, I know. You’re doing so well, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here.”

 Janus wraps his arms around him carefully, avoiding the center of his back. One hand cups the back of his neck, another ruffling through his hair. Two stroke down his shoulders, trying to get the muscles to relax. The last pair sling around his hips and hold him close.

 “I know it hurts, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “but you have to try and relax. Tensing up will only make it hurt more.”

 “I can’t—“

 “You can, sweetie, they’re almost out, it’s okay.” He tips his head to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You’re doing much better than I did when my arms were first growing in.”

 “R-really?”

 “Yes, sweetie, really…oh, easy, little mouse, shh, just focus on me…”

 Virgil clings onto him as his back keeps cracking, over and over. Janus is right, though, holding onto him makes it a little easier, especially when he reaches a hand up to brush the tears away.

 “I’ve got you, Virgil,” he promises, “it’s almost over, you’re doing so well, just a little more, now, stay here with me…”

 “I want it to stop, it fucking hurts.”

 “I know, little mouse, I know.”

 “Don’t think—“ Virgil gasps against his neck as another crack rings out, quieter this time, though— “don’t think that works anymore.”

 “You’ll always be my little mouse,” Janus whispers, “but you can also be my little spider.”

 Virgil blinks. His back still aches, but…the blinding white pain is gone. He tries to stretch—

 —and freezes when new things respond in ways that do not make sense.

 “Jan?”

 “You’ve got new limbs, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, giving his hair a ruffle, “can you try and move them for me?”

 Oh, he was not meant to have these muscles in these places. Still, he manages to figure out which ones he’s supposed to flex only for another jolt of pain to shoot through them.

 “Shh, shh,” Janus shushes when he winces, “I know it hurts, but you’ve got to start building up a range of motion now, otherwise they’ll get sore and stuck very quickly.”

 Virgil grits his teeth and bears it, listening to Janus’s gentle instructions on how to bend, unbend, and rotate the—four?—four new limbs coming from the center of his back. He definitely sheds a few more tears into the collar of Janus’s shirt, but by the time Janus rubs the back of his neck and tells him he’s all done, for now, his back does feel a little better.

 “You did so well, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”

 “Can I never do that again?”

 Janus chuckles. “Absolutely, little spider.”

 Oh. Oh, fuck.

 Janus’s eyes widen as a brilliant blush starts to bloom over Virgil’s cheeks. “Well.”

 “No.”

 “But it’s been so long since I have seen you so flustered, little spider,” he purrs, gently knuckling the side of Virgil’s face, “can you blame me?”

 “Stoppit.”

 “Oh, darling, is it truly still so easy?”

 “Well, it’s easy once I’m already here!”

 “Mm.”

 Virgil does not squeak, thank you very much, as Janus sits up and pulls him fully into his lap.

 “And where is here, little spider,” he hums, bringing one hand up to cup his chin, “right…here?”

 Well, there go Virgil’s speaking abilities.

 Janus chuckles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s certainly been a while since I’ve seen you speechless, darling.”

 Virgil just mumbles and throws his arms around him.

 “Oh, it’s okay, little spider,” Janus murmurs, softer this time, “I’m done now, you have my word.”

 “Mean.”

 “Yes, yes, I know, I’ve been very rude to you.” Another kiss on his cheek. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

 “How?”

 As an answer, he feels hands begin to rub gently at the muscles in his back, encouraging the last bit of cramps loose. An exhale tears itself out of his chest as he sags forward.

 “Good,” comes the soft whisper, “good, little spider, just relax, I’ve got you.”

 Virgil mumbles, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “Hurts.”

 “Still?” At his nods, Janus makes a noise of sympathy and redoubles his efforts. “It’s okay, little spider, I’ve got you, you’re here with me.”

 Something dark shifts in his stomach again. He tucks his head firmly under Janus’s chin and takes a shaky breath.

 “What is it, darling?”

 “When I woke up,” he mumbles, “thought it was—that I—“

 He swallows.

 “…wasn’t sure if I was…back or not.”

 Janus stills. The dark thing in the pit of Virgil’s stomach snaps.

 “You are here,” Janus says, a growl tinging the edge of his voice, “you are here, with me, and you are safe.”

 Arms wrap tightly around him.

 “None of them will touch you again,” he promises, “I have you. I have you, little spider, you’re safe.”

 Virgil just sits there, basking in the warm, golden glow, as Janus wraps the threads of Reality around them.

 “Keep me?”

 “I’ll keep you, little spider, I’ll always keep you.”

 He lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

 One last kiss pressed to his forehead. “Always.”

 The limbs are…interesting. The first time Janus takes him to the mirror to see them, Virgil almost runs away.

They look like spider legs, all segmented and hairy, but they’re a little too…purple to be just normal spider’s legs. Janus walks him carefully through how to stretch them, how to use them, how to turn them this way and that until it feels a little more like Virgil’s supposed to have them. He doesn’t seem to have to build up their strength as he would a new arm or leg—well, a humanoid arm or leg—but figuring out how to use them takes…a little longer than he’d like.

 And he never quite gets over how…wrong it looks.

 Freak.

 He does his best to hide it. It’s not like it isn’t expected, people don’t normally spontaneously grow limbs like, partway through their life anyway, let alone spider legs, so an adjustment period is expected, but…

 Freak.

 All things considered, he thinks he’s doing pretty well. He hasn’t lied to anyone—not that he really could—and no one’s asked him flat-out if he feels like they’re awful or anything, but…

 Freak.

 Then he makes his way back to his room as the sun sets one day and Roman is there, leaning up against the side of the house, waiting for him.

 He looks up and smiles, waving to Virgil and beckoning him closer. Virgil goes, valiantly suppressing the shudder at how fucking warm Roman is as a hand comes up to cup his cheek.

 Judging by the smile on his face, it’s not successful, but hey, he tried.

 “Hello, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, “can we talk for a moment?”

 Virgil nods.

 “Thank you, sweetheart, do you want to go inside, or…?”

 “Sure.”

 Roman lets Virgil lead him inside and pull him to sit down on the bed. He reaches out to push Virgil’s hair away from his face.

 “Do you know why I’m here, sweetheart?”

 When Virgil shakes his head, he scoots a little closer and rests his hand flat against his back, just below where the legs come out.

 “…oh.”

 Roman nods, rubbing little circles. “What’s troubling you, little honeybee?”

 Virgil huffs, gesturing over his shoulder. “Don’t think that works anymore.”

 “Mm, Janus said you’d say that,” he murmurs, shifting a little closer and lifting Virgil’s chin, “talk to me, sweetheart.”

 Virgil shuts his eyes. A web crawls up into the back of his throat and he swallows it down, willing the buzzing things to stay away, held at bay only by the web still in his throat and the insistence that everything is going to be fine.

 “…freak,” he mumbles eventually, much to Roman’s surprise, “they called me a freak.”

 Roman’s hand stills on his back.

 “I jus’—“ fuck, why is he crying?—“I jus’—they made sense, and I—“

“Don’t, sweetheart,” Roman says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Virgil’s, “don’t do that to yourself.”

 Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lets Roman pull him closer, fighting down the urge to sob.

 “Yes, that’s it, come here—come sit with me—there,” he murmurs, sitting Virgil in his lap, “you’re not a freak, Virgil.”

 He huffs. “Easy for you to say.”

 Roman pulls back, frowning. “Why?”

 Fuck. Well, now’s he got to explain himself.

 “Um—“ and great, Roman’s not even doing anything and he’s bright red— “you don’t have any of—“ he waves to the spider legs— “you look like a normal human.”

 He hesitates.

 “…and you’re really pretty.”

 Roman blinks. His lips part and his breath leaves him in a rush. Virgil winces.

 “Sweetheart, do you think you don’t have value if you’re not pretty?”

 “I mean…”

 “No,” Roman growls, sitting up a little straighter and cupping V’s face in his hands, “no, Virgil, pretty isn’t some kind of rent you pay to exist in the world. You don’t owe anyone that, sweetheart.”

 Virgil’s eyes widen as Roman holds him tightly.

 “You have more to offer than just your outward appearance,” he says firmly, “so much more.”

 “But I—I’m not—“ Virgil swallows. “I can’t do anything.”

 “What do you mean you can’t do anything, sweetheart?”

 “You guys, you can all—“ he waves his hands—“do things. I can’t. I’m just…here.”

 “Oh,” Roman breathes as his face truly falls, “oh, little honeybee, you don’t have to be useful to be wanted.”

 Wait.

 What?

 Virgil doesn’t—he doesn’t have to—

 “What?”

 Roman nods, pulling him closer still, “you don’t, sweetheart, we want you. We will always want you. You don’t have to do anything to earn it.”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 “You’re mine, little honeybee, as long as you want to be,” he murmurs quietly, “you don’t need to do anything to earn my trust or affection. It’s yours.”

 Well, now Virgil feels stupid. The spider legs twitch unhappily over his shoulder. Roman catches it.

 “Still not used to them yet, I see,” he murmurs, “that’s alright. I’m not trying to tell you you’re not allowed to feel upset, sweetheart, I promise.”

 “I know.”

 “Can I help,” he asks softly, “can I help you see they’re nothing to be ashamed of?”

 “How?”

 “Has anyone touched them yet,” Roman asks, “other than to help you learn how to use them?”

 He shakes his head.

 “May I touch you, sweetheart?” Virgil nods and Roman smiles. “Thank you. Now, come here—yes, that’s it—“

 Virgil leans right up against Roman’s chest, letting him curl his arms around to scratch gently, gently at the very center of the four legs. It sends a jolt through him, every nerve buzzing.

 “You don’t have to think right now,” Roman hushes when Virgil can’t find the words to say exactly how much this means, “not if you don’t want. You can just sit and feel, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

 Warm. Warm hands rubbing firmly up the limbs as Virgil’s frantic thoughts grind slowly to a halt. Then Roman’s hands find a spot just below the third segment and he groans, low and dark.

 “Shh, I’ve got you,” Roman soothes, squeezing just enough to rewire more of Virgil’s brain, “I’m right here, little honeybee, I’ve got you.”

 It’s so much. It’s so much and every single hair on Virgil’s body stands. He hears Roman chuckle from far, far away and all he can do is whine. Roman shushes him, calling him ‘noisy’ in the most affectionate voice but it’s so much.

 And yet, it feels like something’s missing. Like there’s an extra joint that isn’t quite sitting right yet, like there’s a layer in between the spider legs and his back. Roman keeps touching him, holding him close, but it’s not right.

 “Roman,” he manages, just as Roman’s fingers slide around the base joint, “Roman—“

 “Yes, little honeybee?”

 “Magic.”

 Roman stills and Virgil tries not to whine at the loss. “What?”

 “Use your magic,” he says again, trying to clear his head enough to ask properly, “it feels—I can’t—they’re not mine yet.”

 He’s quiet for a moment. “And you think that if I use my magic, it will help?”

 “Please?”

 “You don’t have to beg, sweetheart, you know I can’t ever say no to you.” Roman ruffles his hair. “But you know the rules, sweetheart.”

 Virgil nods and sits up, leaning away to look at Roman properly. “If it’s too much or it feels like it wants me to want, I tell you and we stop.”

 “And…?”

 “And if I don’t like something.”

 “Good.” Roman takes a deep breath. “Alright.”

 “Yes?”

 “Yes, little honeybee.”

 “…still don’t think that works anymore.”

 “Mm.” Roman tilts his head.

 Virgil shifts as a smirk crawls over his face.

 “Janus told me something else, you know,” he says softly as he reaches to coax Virgil back into his lap.

 “…what?”

 Red sparks curl up from his fingers. Virgil closes his eyes, waiting for the hand to land on his back or the legs again, only for them to fly opened, startled when Roman cups his chin.

 “Wha—“

 Oh.

 Oh, no—Roman’s eyes darken a little, the sparks fizzing on the soft spot under his chin. He tilts his head to the side and leans closer.

 “Hello, little spider.”

 Virgil will deny the squeak he makes until the end of time. Roman chuckles and runs his finger lazily across Virgil’s jaw. The magic trails after him.

 “Pretty little spider,” he coos, voice slipping back into that light, sweet, gentle thing that wriggles straight into Virgil’s chest, “blushy little spider.”

 “R-Roman!”

 “Hmm?” The finger swipes along the other side of his jaw. “What is it, little spider?”

 All that comes out is a keen.

 “You asked for this, little spider,” Roman reminds, tapping the tip of Virgil’s nose, “you asked for the magic.”

 “The magic, not the flirting!”

 “Oh, the flirting’s for me, little spider,” he coos, “just for fun. You’re so lovely, I can’t help it.”

 “Mmm!”

 “Is this not what you wanted, little spider?” When Virgil can’t say anything, Roman chuckles but lifts his fingers away to let him catch his breath. “What do you want, little spider?”

 “You know what I want.”

 “I do,” he says softly, “but I need you to say it for me. I don’t want to do anything without your consent.”

 “…will you touch my legs, please?”

 Roman smiles, running his finger up Virgil’s neck, up under his chin, lifting to press a kiss to his cheek.

 “Good, little spider,” he whispers, reaching around to leave a small trail down the middle of Virgil’s back, shushing the light whine, “just relax, now, I’ve got you.”

 Virgil melts, all but collapsing into Roman as his magic trails lightly up and down the legs, over his back, sometimes fizzling into his hair as he kisses Virgil’s head. His legs start to move of their own accord, pushing up into Roman’s hands as he rocks them slowly back and forth.

 “Are you falling asleep, little spider? Does that feel good?” He feels Roman smile against his forehead. “You can sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

 The last of Roman’s magic fizzles away but his hands stay, rubbing, stroking, petting up and down, up and down. Roman’s so warm.

 “Just rest, little spider,” Roman hushes, “you’re alright now, shh…”

 He falls asleep to moonlight streaming in through the window, his head pillowed on Roman’s chest.

 Somewhere, a purple thread winds itself into a braid next to a red thread, a green thread, a light blue thread, a dark blue thread, and a yellow thread.

 ‘Golden.’

 He’s so pretentious, it’s fine.

 Virgil’s home.

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