#i kind of want her. girl can you emotionally manipulate me into having sex with you next ^_^<-JOKE< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[hatethysinner]

ᴍᴀɴ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ x ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ!ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: He loved you too much to share. So he took everything else. Your friends, your family, your freedom, all slowly melted away. Now it's just him, the house, and you. And he promises that's all you'll ever need.

ᴡᴄ: 15.2k

ᴀ/ɴ: title taken directly from this incredible song. i loved and hated every second of writing this but i just NEEDED to get it out of my system. while i don't think i particularly delved into anything dd:dne (PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS AND DNI IF DARK FICS AREN'T YOUR CUP OF TEA <3), i definitely channeled my most unhinged ao3 reads for this. this'll probably be the only time i write a full fic of dark!remmick, but if this really blows up i may actually consider doing more. as always, white girls i promise you can have your fun with this too ❤️. enjoy reading divas! i don't do taglists personally, so just follow me if you want to be updated when i post c:

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: unapologetically dark fic(!!!), exposition dump, obsession, murder, body disposal, vampirism, biting, blood, bloodplay, dark!remmick on steroids, lovebombing, manipulation, isolation, toxic relationship (somewhat established), emotionally/mentally abusive behavior (!!!), threats of violence, codepency, lowkey unreliable narrator, extremely dubious consent (!!!), noncon (!!!), heavily abused power imbalance, dom!remmick, sub!reader, reader is going through it, remmick loves tormenting her, angst, praise kink, light degradation kink, breeding kink, proper use of a gold chain during sex, babytrapping (!!!), p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, overstimulation, dacryphilia, biting, sadism, monsterfucking, religious mentions, loss of virginity, no happy ending, divider usage, written on demon time

You were the kind of girl folks counted on.

Always had been.

Ran your daddy’s general store with a steady hand and a sharp head for numbers. Never late to open, never short on change. You knew what folks needed before they asked. Darning needles, cane syrup, extra tobacco for the older men who swore they were quitting but never really tried. Folks came in more for you than the goods, if they were honest. You smiled easy. Listened well. Learned their names, their kids’ names, and how they liked their goods bagged.

You had a tight circle of friends, girls you’d known since church bonnets and petticoats. Played games on the porch after Sunday school and swapped lipstick behind the store when your daddy wasn’t looking. They called you the smart one. The grounded one. The kind that could hold a whole household together with one hand while balancing the day’s receipts in the other. They said if any of them were gonna marry a good man, it’d be you.

But somehow, that wasn’t the way the road bent.

You were always the one they leaned on. The one who helped fix their hems and cooled their heartbreaks and made sure they got home safe. But when they talked about love, the soft parts, the burning ones, the kind of hunger that made your hands tremble, they never looked at you.

You weren’t the girl men chased after. Just the one who made things easier.

And still, somehow, you were the one he chose.

He came in on a Tuesday.

Dead of night, just before closing. Long shadows bleeding in through the windows, sun already tucked behind the treeline, store mostly empty save for the sound of your broom brushing across the floorboards. You’d flipped the sign but hadn’t locked up yet. Wasn’t late enough to feel nervous.

Not until the bell over the door chimed, and he stepped through.

A white man.

Tall. Pale. Not from around here. And not the type of man who came this far across town, not without a reason. He didn’t belong on your side of the county line. Not unless he was lost. Not unless he meant trouble.

But if he was aware of how out of place he looked, he didn’t show it. He walked in easy. Calm. Hands in his coat pockets and a smile that curved slow and deliberate. He looked right at you, only you, and said,

“Evenin’, miss.”

Polite. Warm. Like this was a place, a side of town, he frequented.

He asked for flour. Then matches. Then something sweet. Said he had a long road ahead of him, but never said where it led. Moved like he had all the time in the world. Studied the shelves like they held more than goods. Like he was trying to learn something about you in the way you stocked your soap and stacked your salt.

His accent was Southern, but different. Smooth, syrupy, with a twist to his vowels, like every word had traveled through someplace older, foreign, before landing in his mouth. He didn’t speak like a man passing through. Spoke like a man digging roots. And when he left, he touched two fingers to the brim of a hat he didn’t wear, like tipping it to you was instinct.

You locked the door behind him. Stood for a moment, broom still in hand, wondering what to make of it.

Then he came back the next night.

And the next.

Always right before closing. Always alone.

He brought little things each time. His name, Remmick, the second time around. An odd name, you thought.

A ribbon he said reminded him of your favorite dress, even though you hadn’t told him which one it was. A book of poems with pages marked and underlined, left at the counter with a quiet “Thought ya might like this one.” A jar of thick, dark honey that looked more like molasses, wrapped in cloth and twine like a gift.

Remmick never lingered too long. Never pushed for more than you were willing to give. Just watched. Listened. Laid compliments at your feet like offerings. Not greasy or crude, but precise. Gentle. Like he meant every word and had studied you long enough to know they’d land.

Said you had a voice that sounded like morning.

Said you were the only person in town worth a real conversation.

Said you smiled like it meant something.

You rolled your eyes. Called him too much.

But you didn’t tell him to stop.

No one had ever looked at you like that before.

Like you were worth slowing down for.

And piece by piece, the walls you’d built without knowing cracked beneath the weight of his gaze.

And slowly, your world started to tilt.

Not all at once.

Just by degrees.

Like a house shifting its weight before the foundation gives.

Your friends never met him. Not once. But they could tell something had changed. The way you smiled at nothing when they were mid-sentence. The way your gaze would drift toward the door, or to the windows, or to some place in your head they couldn’t reach. You weren’t sharing like you used to. Not your stories, not your time.

Still, they were happy for you. At first. Said it must be something special, if you were keeping it close. But even then, there was a pause in their voices when they said it. A little squint in the eyes. A little too much emphasis on the word special.

They’d always said you were the one who’d settle down first. The one with the good head. The one who’d choose someone kind and steady, someone who knew what it meant to take care of a woman like you.

But you never gave them a name.

Never said what he looked like, what he did, where he came from.

And eventually, they stopped asking.

Your parents noticed the shift too.

Your mama stopped by more often. Just to check in, she'd say. But her voice always started a little high-pitched when she'd talk. Like she could see something in you she didn’t have the words for. Your daddy didn’t say much at all, but you could feel his silence stretching between you every time he stopped by the shop and found you humming without noticing, sorting flour bags with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

You told them everything was fine.

Told yourself the same.

And it was. He said it was.

Remmick always had a way of making the world sound simpler than it was.

He made you feel beautiful. Sharp. Like the only person in the room worth speaking to.

Like his person.

And the things he said. God, the things he said.

Said you had the kind of soul people wrote songs about. That no one else had ever understood you the way he did. That all your life, people had been trying to water you down. Make you smaller, quieter, more convenient.

But he saw you.

And you believed him.

Of course you did.

He didn’t like your friends, though. Said they talked too much. Said they didn’t get you. Said you always came back from seeing them with your shoulders a little tighter, your voice a little more unsure. That they didn’t want you to grow. That they only loved you when you stayed the version of yourself they could manage.

He said it so sweetly, like it hurt him to say it.

Like it was breaking his heart.

And when he asked, gently, softly, with his fingers stroking the inside of your wrist, if you could spend a little less time with them, it didn’t feel like control.

It felt like care.

He missed you, after all.

He needed you.

And you wanted to be needed.

God help you, you did.

So you let them drift.

One by one.

Until their names felt strange on your tongue.

He said your parents were too involved. Too nosy. Said you were grown now. Said their worries weren’t yours to carry. And when you stopped accepting your mama's visits, when you quit your job at your daddy's general store despite the heartbroken look on his face, it didn’t feel like abandonment. Not then.

It felt like love.

Like a cocoon being spun around something precious.

When he asked you to come stay with him, it didn’t feel like a decision.

Just the next step in the story he was writing for you both.

The manor was beautiful. Isolated. A pristine, white-columned thing hidden deep in the Delta, so far from town it didn’t even register on some maps. Every plank of wood polished. Every curtain soft and silent in the breeze. The kind of place where your voice echoed even when you whispered. Where the sky stretched endless above you, dark and wide and brimming with stars you hadn’t seen in years.

He said it would be safer this way. Quieter. Easier to breathe.

You believed him.

You believed everything he said.

And he rewarded that belief.

The room he gave you was sun-soaked and clean, decorated with strange antiques and velvet-upholstered chairs that looked too expensive to sit in but felt right under you. He stocked the closet with dresses in your size before you ever mentioned needing new clothes. Or giving him your measurements. Set your favorite tea on the windowsill beside a stack of your favorite books.

“Just figured ya’d need some comfort, darlin’,” he said, planting featherlight kisses on your hands. “A woman like you deserves softness.”

You told yourself it was kind. Thoughtful.

You didn’t think to ask how he knew what you liked.

Not until later.

By then, it had already begun.

The soft steps outside your door at night.

The feeling of being watched. Not cruelly. Not even threateningly. But deliberately. Like the world outside had narrowed down to two hearts and one house, and all of it was his.

He made sure you loved him. Or at least that you needed him too badly to leave.

And if someone asked you when the line was crossed,

You couldn’t say.

You never even saw it pass beneath your feet.

Until the night he came home with blood on his shirt.

Not a smear. Not a spot.

Soaked.

Dark and wet and clinging, like the cotton had drunk its fill and was still greedy. His cuffs were stiff with it. His collar painted red. There were flecks on his throat, droplets drying like freckles, and his hands dripped steadily onto the hardwood, drawing crimson lines in a path that led straight to you.

He didn’t speak right away.

Just stood there in the doorway of the sitting room, chest rising slow. Watching you.

There was no panic in his eyes. No guilt. Just a feverish gleam, like he’d returned from something holy and wasn’t quite ready to step down from the altar.

You froze where you were. Half-curled on the sofa, book in hand, mouth parting without sound.

He stepped inside and told you the man's name. Simply. As if announcing the weather.

You blinked.

He smiled. Small. Serene.

“Didn’t suffer long.”

You screamed.

Loud. Unfiltered. Scrambled back until your spine hit the armrest, and the book hit the floor with a thud that didn’t register beneath the roar of your pulse.

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t apologize.

Just watched you with that same slow-burning affection he always wore, like this was something you would come to understand in time. Like it was natural. Expected. A truth you’d learn to live inside.

When your voice cracked from shouting no, when your sobs doubled over into heaves, he knelt.

Right there. Blood and all.

He didn’t bother to wash his hands first. Didn’t even take off his coat. He just knelt at your feet like a knight returning from battle, like something ancient and humbled and sure of its place.

“Don’t cry, sugar,” he hummed, reaching for you.

You pulled back.

Didn’t matter.

He closed the gap gently, slowly, as if calming a startled animal.

“Wasn’t for no reason,” he said, voice low and honey-thick. “Ya believe that, don’t ya?”

You shook your head. Weak.

And still, when his bloodied hand cupped your face, you didn’t pull away fast enough.

“There’s things ya don’t know,” he whispered. “Things I can’t tell ya yet. But ya don’t need to know them to be mine.”

You tried to twist free. Failed. His grip was firm, but not cruel.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

The wet heat of him radiated through your clothes as he leaned in close, shoulders still trembling with leftover adrenaline. You could smell it. Copper and something else. Something rich. Like old rust and soil and bone. Like the breath of something deep in the earth that hadn’t surfaced in a long, long time.

He exhaled slow.

“I ain’t want to scare ya,” he said. “But I had to show ya.”

You didn’t speak.

You couldn’t.

“Because this is me,” he continued. “This is what I am. And if ya love me, if ya mean what y’said, then ya have to see all of me.”

“I never said I loved you,” you almost answered.

But the words didn’t come.

Because his hand moved then.

Not to your neck. Not to hurt.

But to your collar.

He brushed the fabric aside, dragging the edge of his sleeve across your skin.

And the blood marked you.

He wiped it deliberately. Across your jaw. The hollow of your throat. The slope of your collarbone.

You gasped, jerking instinctively, but he only shushed you like he was soothing a frightened child.

“Shh,” he cooed. “Just want ya to wear a little of me. That’s all.”

His voice was trembling now. With restraint. With something else.

“I’m not angry,” he added, and it was true. “I’d never hurt ya. Not ever. You’re the only thing in this world I couldn’t break if I tried.”

And you believed him.

That was the worst part.

He leaned back finally, just enough to look you full in the face.

You were streaked in red.

Your cheeks damp with tears.

And he smiled.

Not wide.

Not cruel.

Just soft.

Like it was all going to be okay.

“Y’don’t have to help,” he said. “Not tonight.”

You didn’t answer.

He rose, slow and deliberate, and walked to the kitchen to wash. You sat frozen. Couldn’t bring yourself to look down at your hands.

When the water ran, you heard him humming again. That same lullaby cadence he always used when he thought you were asleep. And when he called your name, voice gentle, it wasn’t a summons.

It was a question.

And you answered.

You stepped into the kitchen on legs that didn’t feel like yours, and you helped him mop the floor. Scrub the blood from the baseboards. You didn’t ask what he did with the body.

You didn’t want to know.

But you watched the way he scrubbed his nails clean, the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you.

And you didn’t leave.

Not that night.

Not the next.

Now, months later, the blood doesn’t shock you like it used to. You don’t ask who. You don’t ask why. You just wait by the door with towels and vinegar and steady hands.

You still don’t watch him do it. Never have.

But he always leaves the door cracked open.

Just a little.

Just in case.

The house is quiet now. Filled with the sound of dripping water, your own heartbeat, and the hushed, weary creak of the manor’s bones.

He doesn’t pretend to be human anymore.

Not around you.

He lets the teeth stay long, the nails a little sharper. Lets you see the red light behind his eyes when the moonlight hits right.

And still, he kisses you goodnight.

Brushes your curls back from your face.

Tells you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

And when he says it, you believe him.

You are the best thing he’s ever had.

And he’s made damn sure you’ll never leave.

You woke to the feeling of being watched.

Not the vague kind. Not a creeping hunch. No. This was the real kind. Deep and certain, rooted in the marrow of your bones like an old warning. It had shape now, weight. You knew it as easily as breath.

And sure enough, when your lashes parted and the room slowly unblurred, there he was.

Remmick stood over you like some towering monument carved out of shadow, tall and still and all but glowing in the thin streak of dawnlight filtering in through the curtain seam. His shirt hung half-open, pale chest streaked faintly with water. He must’ve bathed again before slipping in. His hair, dark and heavy, was still damp at the ends, dripping in slow intervals down the edge of his throat.

His jaw was slightly parted. And at the corner of his mouth, just barely catching the light, sat a thick bead of drool.

Not blood.

Just spit.

But too much of it. An unnatural amount.

Like he’d been watching you sleep for a long, long while and hadn’t once closed his mouth.

Sizing you up.

You didn’t flinch.

Not anymore.

Instead, you shifted slowly beneath the blankets, tucking your arms beneath your cheek. Your voice was low, rough with sleep. “You been there long?”

His eyes lit like someone had sparked a fuse. And then that crooked grin curled across his face, proud and toothy. Too many teeth for such a soft expression.

“Couldn’t help it,” he drawled, voice slow and lazy at the edges. “Ya look so pretty when you sleep.”

You huffed quietly. It wasn’t really a laugh, but it wasn’t a complaint either. You didn’t pull the blankets higher. Didn’t hide. Just turned your face into the pillow to block the light.

Behind you, the mattress dipped under his weight.

He climbed in slow, but sure. As he always did, never asking if you needed the space. You felt the heat of him even before he touched you. Always too cold when he wasn’t holding you, always too much when he was.

One arm slipped under your waist. The other folded over your middle. And then he was there, wrapped around you like a vise, breath ghosting against your neck, chest rising and falling in sync with your own. You could feel the edge of his belt buckle press into your lower back, the weight of his thigh hooked over yours, the solidness of his body where it pressed along every inch of you.

You should’ve felt caged.

Sometimes you did.

But this morning, you just felt still. Heavy. Grounded.

He kissed the back of your shoulder. Once. Then again, slower.

You closed your eyes and listened.

“Made breakfast,” he murmured against your skin. “Berries. Biscuits. Got that jam ya like. And tea. Not the bitter one. The kind with the hibiscus.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Didn’t move either.

Just lay there with the weight of him curled around your body, his words threading through the fog in your mind. Your limbs felt like wet cotton, and your heart… well, it didn’t race anymore when he held you like this. It just kept time. Careful. Steady.

Some mornings were like this.

Gentle. Sweet. The world in perfect balance, even if it was only for a breath.

Others weren’t.

There were days where something in him just… shifted.

No warning. No clear offense. Just a quiet closing of the door between you. A change in the air.

He wouldn’t look at you.

Wouldn’t speak.

You’d move through the house like a ghost in your own skin, tiptoeing around the silence. You'd replay every moment from the days before in your head like a broken record, trying to pinpoint the crack. The wrong word. The wrong breath. You whispered his name sometimes, just to see if he’d flinch.

He never did.

And the longer it lasted, the more desperate you got.

You’d sit at the edge of the bed, fingers clenched in your lap, watching the door anxiously. Or trail behind him through the house, trying to make yourself useful. Fixing his tea, folding the blankets, laying out the towels just the way he liked them. Hoping he’d notice. Hoping it’d be enough.

It never was.

Sometimes you cried.

Most of the time, you did.

Not loud. Just soft and constant, curled into a corner of the couch, the fabric beneath you growing damp from the weight of it all. You didn’t ask him to come back. You just wanted him to see.

And eventually, once the sun had vanished and the stars were out, once you were past the tears and into the shaking, silent part of grief, he would return.

Not from outside.

Just from wherever he’d gone inside himself.

He’d find you there, face raw, eyes swollen, mouth trembling with all the things you couldn’t say.

And he’d kneel.

Press his hands to your knees. Pull your face up to his.

He used to wipe your tears, once. With the pads of his thumbs. Gentle. Sweet.

But not anymore.

Now he licked them.

Dragged his tongue across your cheeks, pleased sounds always escaping his mouth as if he was tasting a delicacy.

“Ain’t mean it,” he’d whisper. “Ain’t mean to go so cold, darlin’.”

You never asked why he did it.

You just nodded.

And let the licks turn into kisses.

You tried not to think too hard on those days.

Because when he was good to you?

He was perfect.

Like now.

You felt his fingers shift under your nightdress, splaying wide over your stomach like he was anchoring himself with the shape of you.

“Ya smell like sunlight,” he whispered, almost in awe. “Like warmth. Like somethin’ I wanna keep forever.”

He didn’t say it to get a rise out of you.

He meant it.

He always meant it.

You could feel the edge of a smile pull at your mouth, but it didn’t quite reach the surface. It never did on mornings like this. You couldn’t tell if it was dread or hope that kept it from blooming fully.

He kissed your hair.

“Ya awake?”

You gave the smallest nod.

He chuckled, breath warm and steady against your ear.

“Come eat, baby. Gotta keep ya strong.”

You nodded again.

And let him pull you out of bed.

Because that’s what you did on good days.

You let yourself be loved.

He led you down to the kitchen like you were the only woman in the world who’d ever deserved to be walked anywhere.

His palm rested against the small of your back, guiding, not pushing, and he moved with slow, deliberate steps like each one was part of some silent ceremony only he knew the meaning of. You didn’t rush. You never did, not with him. It didn’t feel right to.

The kitchen was already warm with sunlight slanting through the curtains, soft and hazy, painting the wooden floorboards gold. The stove clicked gently as the kettle cooled. Something citrusy hung in the air alongside the hibiscus. Orange peel or lemon zest, maybe. It was always hard to tell with him. He had a way of combining scents until they no longer smelled like anything but home.

He pulled your chair out for you.

Waited for you to sit.

Then served your plate himself.

He’d made the biscuits from scratch. Just the way you liked them, topped with honey and butter. A few berries had burst open on the side of the pan, their juices bleeding into the crust like bruises, and he placed those pieces carefully at the edge of your plate, like he knew you’d want them last.

There were eggs, too. Soft-scrambled, barely set. And jam. The good kind, dark and smooth and homemade.

He didn’t eat, of course. He never did.

But he sat across from you, arms folded on the table, chin resting on one hand as he watched.

Not like a man waiting for praise.

Like a man watching a miracle.

You didn’t feel self-conscious anymore. Not the way you used to. Not even when he studied the curve of your fingers or the way your mouth parted slightly with each bite. Not when his eyes lingered on the bridge of your nose, the full shape of your lips, the high frame of your cheekbones. Features that other men overlooked, or worse, tried to make smaller. Not when he traced your every movement like he was trying to memorize it.

Just warm.

Maybe a little shy.

But warm.

“You’re gonna spoil me,” you said after a few moments, tone light and quiet.

His mouth curved. “Good.”

You raised a brow, chewing. “That all you gonna say?”

He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. “What else is there? A woman like ya’s worth spoilin’. Worth feedin’. Worth watchin’. I get more outta sittin’ across from ya than most men get in a lifetime.”

Your breath caught.

You didn’t mean for it to. You knew he liked that kind of reaction. Thrived off it. But still, it happened. He had a way of saying things that left you undone. Like he meant them. Like there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it was true.

You swallowed and looked down at your plate.

Let yourself smile.

Just a little.

That was the danger of mornings like this. The sweetness. The calm.

You’d forget, just for a moment, what he was.

Let your guard slip.

And he’d let you. That was the worst part.

He never forced it.

Never had to.

“I’ll be headin’ out later,” he said, finally breaking the stillness. “Just before sundown.”

You glanced up. “Errands?”

He nodded. “Might be a while.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

He didn’t.

You didn’t press.

Not because you trusted him, not completely, but because you wanted to. Needed to. Trust was a gift, and he treated it like one. Collected it. Stroked it. Cradled it in his arms like something he’d stolen.

He reached across the table and brushed his knuckles down the side of your face.

You leaned into it.

Didn’t mean to.

But you didn’t pull away either.

He tilted his head. Studied you.

“I’ll bring ya back somethin’ nice,” he said. “New necklace, maybe. Somethin’ that'll bring out that pretty mouth of yours.”

You blinked. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” His hand slid down your arm, resting over your wrist. “Ya always act like ya ain’t allowed to be treated soft. But I told ya already, anybody that didn’t see your worth before me was blind.”

You didn’t respond.

You didn’t have to.

He leaned in and kissed your forehead. Soft. Gentle. Reverent.

And for a second, everything felt so normal.

So painfully, heartbreakingly normal.

Like this was just a house.

Like he was just a man.

Like you were just a girl in love, waiting for the evening to fall.

You let yourself stay in the moment a little longer.

Finished your tea in slow sips.

Let him watch you.

And prayed that the quiet wouldn’t turn. That tomorrow wouldn’t shift. That tonight, God willing, tonight would still be kind.

You knew better than to believe in quiet mornings.

Not here. Not with him.

Still, the stillness of the day had tricked you. It had crept in through the floorboards and settled into your chest, soft as fog, convincing you that peace might last. That today would stay gentle. Safe.

He’d been kind all morning. Sweet, even. Kissed your shoulder while you dressed. Detangled your hair with slow, worshipful hands. Called you baby in that voice like melted sugar as he danced with you to a jazz record. It had been so easy to believe in the calm, to believe he meant it.

But peace, in this house, was never given.

Only loaned.

You’d spent the day in the parlor, patching a hem that didn’t really need fixing, listening to the wind scratch against the shutters. He passed through every hour or so, always with something to say.

“Ya look so soft in this light.”

“That color’s real pretty on ya.”

Always with a kiss to your hairline. A graze of his fingers at your elbow. And you let him.

You let him.

Because it was a good day.

Until it wasn’t.

Remmick lit the lamps earlier than usual. Shadows hadn’t even grown long across the floor yet, but he moved like he couldn’t stand the dim. A low, strange hum sat under his breath. His movements were slow but measured, pressing the collar of his shirt, combing his hair with surgical care. He changed into a dark button-up, freshly pressed, the fabric stiff and lined with faint charcoal pinstripes. He didn’t fasten the top button. Let his collarbone show. The buttons themselves were a pale ivory, too round and too polished to be anything but bone.

He didn’t speak while he dressed.

Didn’t look at you, either.

But when he passed you near the kitchen door, he paused. Tilted your chin up. Kissed your forehead like a benediction. His lips were too warm, too careful.

“Be good while I’m gone,” he said.

And that was all.

The door opened hours later, at a time when you had long retired to your bedroom.

Not with a knock. Not with warning.

Just the quiet creak of the front door swinging open.

You didn’t recognize the man who entered. Not at first.

Older. White. Expensive. That was the word that came to mind first. Expensive. The coat, the cane, the posture. He moved like he owned everything he looked at, and when his eyes slid over the staircase where you watched from just out of view, he barely registered you at all.

He smelled of clean money and fragrant cologne. His voice, when he spoke, had a practiced warmth. Used to making deals, used to being obeyed.

Remmick welcomed him like an old friend. No introductions. Just a nod, and a hand at the man’s back as he ushered him toward the parlor, the two of them murmuring low between each other. You didn’t catch what was said. Didn’t want to.

You slowly closed your door.

But that didn’t stop your heart from picking up.

Didn’t stop the feeling crawling into your bones. The kind that knew this was punishment, even if you didn’t know what for.

You hadn’t said anything wrong today. Hadn’t wandered too far. Hadn’t said no.

He’d kissed your forehead. Cooked for you. Danced with you.

So why?

Why this?

You sat on the edge of your bed, hands pressed to your thighs, jaw clenched until it ached. You wanted to pace, but you knew better. He hated when you fidgeted.

Time bled slowly by. A drip of unease with every second.

Then the parlor door clicked shut.

You couldn’t hear much. Just muffled voices beneath the hum of the hallway light. At first, it was civil. Calm. Two men talking. Glasses clinking. Something poured.

You stared out your window.

And then, a sound.

It didn’t come as a cry at first. Just a thump, low and heavy.

Then another.

And then it began in earnest.

The screaming didn’t start with words. It started with breath. Ragged, sharp, begging. Then the voice rose. Screamed so hard it cracked, pleaded, cursed. The sound of it ricocheted through the walls like thunder. One drawn-out, blood-curdled no, followed by a scream that didn’t end, just collapsed.

You covered your ears.

Pressed your palms so tight it made your head ring.

But nothing could drown it out.

Your whole body trembled.

Not from shock.

From knowing this was intentional.

Because he didn’t need for you to hear it.

He wanted you to.

This was never about the man in the parlor. Not really.

It was about you.

What you’d said. Or done. Or failed to do.

You didn’t know what you were being punished for.

But you felt it, in your gut.

Your punishment had a heartbeat, a voice, a body now. And it was breaking somewhere below your feet.

The screaming stopped eventually.

But the silence that followed was worse.

Because silence didn’t end anything in this house.

It only marked the beginning of the next thing.

You waited.

Not just for the screaming to stop. Not just for the silence to settle. But long after.

You waited until the walls stopped humming with sound. Until the floorboards cooled beneath your feet. Until even the wind outside held its breath.

And then,

You heard it.

The soft groan of the parlor door unlatching. A low creak. A shift in weight across the boards.

His footsteps were quiet.

Measured.

Too soft for a man who’d just done what he’d done. Like he was walking through a church. Or a dream.

You didn’t move. Stayed curled in on yourself at the edge of your bed, arms locked around your knees, eyes fixed on the door like it might rattle open any second. It didn’t.

Not yet.

You heard the stairs instead.

One. By one.

Each step slow and steady, deliberate. Like he was giving you time.

Time to compose yourself.

Time to prepare.

Time to realize nothing was going to stop him from reaching you.

The knob turned.

You hadn’t even realized your door was unlocked.

It opened with a click and a hush, and there he was.

Standing in the threshold like a vision from a fever.

Blood soaked the front of his shirt. Thick and wet in some places, half-dried and flaking in others. It clung to his throat, painted his collarbone, pooled beneath his nails. His sleeves were still rolled, but the pale skin of his forearms was nearly lost beneath the spatter. There were streaks along his jaw where he’d tried to wipe his mouth clean. Too late. Too messy. A smear of it curved across his cheekbone like a smile.

And his claws, long, edged, still drawn, glinted in the low light of your bedside lamp.

But what knocked the breath out of your chest was his face.

Calm.

Completely, terrifyingly calm.

His eyes, those strange, shifting, ancient things, shone soft in the dim. Not wild. Not frenzied.

Just… peaceful.

“Darlin’,” he said, soft as a sigh. “Can ya come here?”

His voice sounded like the morning.

Like nothing had happened at all.

You didn’t answer.

But your body moved.

You hated it. How your limbs betrayed you. How your feet swung over the edge of the bed and touched the floor. How you stepped closer to him, one foot, then another, then another, drawn toward him like gravity had chosen sides.

He didn’t move to meet you.

Just waited.

Like he knew you would come.

And when you reached the doorway, when your bare feet kissed the hallway light, that’s when he touched you.

Both hands to your face. Fingers gentle, claws grazing soft against your cheeks.

Blood smeared warm across your skin.

You flinched.

But didn’t pull away.

His thumbs brushed just beneath your eyes. Not to wipe your tears, there weren’t any yet, but to cup the place where they would be. Where he knew they would be.

“Ya did somethin’ wrong,” he whispered. “Ain’t ya?”

That broke you.

“No,” you whispered, voice breaking.

The tears came all at once. Thick. Hot. Your chest heaved and you shook your head, hands flying up to press against his wrists. “No, please- Remmick, please, I didn’t- I can’t-”

“I know,” he said.

But his grip didn’t loosen.

Your knees nearly gave. Your breath hitched.

And he leaned in close, lips almost brushing yours.

“I’m scared,” you sobbed. “Please don’t make me-”

That’s when he said it.

Soft. Sweet.

Final.

“Y’ain’t got a choice.”

The words weren’t cruel.

Weren’t laced with threat.

They sounded like a lullaby.

And then, he kissed you.

Slow. Deep. Full of pride.

The blood on his mouth smeared onto yours, warm and metallic and thick enough to make you shudder. You didn’t kiss him back. Couldn’t. But your lips parted. And that was enough.

He made a sound, something like a purr, and pulled back, smiling like you’d just said I love you.

“There ya go,” he whispered.

Then, lower: “C’mon, now. Just a little bit of help.”

You shook your head, tears streaking your cheeks.

His thumbs smeared them. Not away. Just… further. Down your face. Into your mouth. Into the collar of your nightdress.

“Remmick, please-”

“Ya can,” he said again, voice even gentler this time. “Ya will.”

And when he kissed your forehead, it didn’t feel like comfort.

It felt like surrender.

He led you to the rear hall.

Step by step.

The floorboards creaked beneath your feet, slow and drawn out like they knew what was coming. The air back here always felt colder. Damper, too. Like the walls remembered every secret ever whispered against them.

One clawed hand pressed low to your back. Not shoving. Not dragging. Just guiding. A lover’s touch, if you ignored the sharp curve of his nails and the way they caught on the cotton of your dress.

The other hand gripped something heavy. Bundled tight in a canvas sheet. Edges stiff with dried blood. You didn’t need to ask what it was.

You didn’t want to know how long it had been wrapped like that.

You didn’t want to know anything.

“Take the feet, darlin’,” he said. Soft. Encouraging. “That’s it. There ya go.”

You hesitated.

Stared at the length of fabric that formed the shape of shins, then ankles, then shoes that had once gleamed polished and proud beneath the parlor light.

The man’s feet were cold.

You flinched as your fingers made contact. Felt the stiffness through the layers. The weight of it settled like stone in your stomach.

You choked.

Your knees bent beneath you, buckling under the weight of it, legs shaking, arms burning.

“That’s alright,” Remmick said quickly, already crouched beside you again. “You’re strong. Stronger than ya think.”

He didn’t offer to take it from you.

Didn’t let you drop it either.

Just walked backward, slow and steady, leading you through the back door as the hinges groaned open.

Outside, the air hit sharp.

You breathed it in too fast. Coughed once. The scent of blood clung to your face, your hair, your hands. And beneath it, rot. Curling at the edges of the canvas like the world had already started reclaiming him.

You swallowed hard.

Walked blind behind Remmick.

The trees pressed in around you, branches brittle with late summer’s death. Moonlight pierced the canopy in sharp slivers. The path was narrow. Familiar. You’d taken it before, but never like this.

Never carrying someone.

Remmick hummed as he walked.

Low and tuneless, like it was something he didn’t know he was doing. A sound of habit. Of focus. Of ritual.

You didn’t ask how he knew where to dig.

You didn’t ask how many times he’d done this before.

You just stood there, trembling, as he knelt in the clearing and began to carve the earth apart with his hands.

Not with a shovel.

With his claws.

They split the dirt like butter, curling soil and root alike with mechanical ease. He worked fast. Efficient. With a kind of composure, almost, like he was preparing a bed, not a grave.

You stayed frozen until he glanced up at you, face slick with sweat and moonlight.

“Almost done,” he said. “Just a little more, sugar.”

He stood.

Wiped his brow with the back of one hand, smearing dirt and blood across his temple.

Then he turned to you, lips stretched into a smile.

“C’mon,” he said gently. “Let’s lay him down.”

The canvas landed with a heavy thud.

You flinched again.

He unwrapped the top half. Not all the way. Just enough for the face to show. Slack-jawed, eyes glazed, neck at the wrong angle.

Your stomach turned.

Remmick crouched again, slipped his arms beneath the man’s shoulders.

He looked up at you. Expectant.

“Go on,” he said, nodding toward the legs.

You hesitated.

“Remmick-”

Your breath caught.

“I said, go on.”

So you did.

You took a deep breath, grasped the ankles again, and followed his count.

One, two, three.

You heaved.

He lifted.

And together, you laid him in the earth.

It wasn’t graceful.

It wasn’t clean.

You gagged once and turned away, bile stinging your throat. He didn’t chastise you. Didn’t rush you. Just stood there in the moonlight, waiting, the grave yawning at his feet.

When you finally turned back, your face pale and your hands filthy, he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Almost done.”

The dirt came next.

Heavy, clumpy, wet.

It stuck to your fingers and your wrists, coated your forearms, gathered beneath your nails like it wanted to crawl inside you.

Remmick packed the final mound himself.

Then stood.

Brushed his hands together with a soft clap.

And turned toward you.

Smiling.

Like you’d just exchanged vows.

Like something had been sealed tonight, sacred and unbreakable.

His eyes shone in the dark, wide and wild and glowing faintly red.

He cupped your face again, blood dried into the creases of his knuckles.

“Ya did good,” he whispered. “So good f’me.”

And you didn’t correct him.

Didn’t move. Couldn't.

He reached into his coat.

The gesture was slow, deliberate. Like everything with him. He could’ve pulled out anything. A blade, a scrap of skin, a love letter scrawled in someone else’s blood, and part of you would’ve just watched, quiet and ready.

But instead, his hand came back gloved in shadow and something glinting beneath a soaked cloth.

He held it out to you. Waiting.

“I brought ya a gift,” he said, voice low and soft, almost shy. Like he was offering you a bouquet.

You didn’t answer.

Just stared.

The fabric, silk, maybe, once cream, was red now. Mottled. It clung wetly to whatever was wrapped inside, dark lines seeping into the seams.

He unwrapped it slowly.

Bit by bit.

Like unveiling something sacred.

A necklace.

Sapphire, deep and cold, surrounded by a constellation of diamonds so small and fine they looked like frozen tears. The pendant caught the moonlight, sparkled like a drop of river water in the sun.

But the chain, thin and gold, was streaked with blood. Still tacky. Still warm.

He held it up between both hands, letting the pendant sway gently between you.

“Belonged to his wife,” he said.

His eyes never left your face.

“Don’t worry. She didn’t put up much of a fight.”

Your breath hitched.

He said it like a kindness.

Like a mercy.

You didn’t ask what he meant. Not exactly. Didn’t ask if that meant she begged. Or wept. Or just stood there, quiet, waiting for her turn.

You didn’t want to know.

You never did.

He stepped closer.

The necklace still dangling in his hand, catching on his fingers. Blood smeared his palm now. Streaked down his wrist. You didn’t move as he reached up, lifted the chain, heavy and wet, and looped it behind your neck.

His fingers were careful.

Precise.

He fastened it with a soft click, the clasp brushing the nape of your neck, cold as a knife.

Then he stepped back. Just a little.

“There,” he whispered, his voice nearly trembling. “Look at ya. My beautiful girl.”

You didn’t look down.

Didn’t touch it.

You felt the weight of it though. The cold metal against your chest. The stick of half-dried blood just beneath your collarbone.

He kissed your cheek next.

Then your jaw.

Then your mouth.

Soft. Tender.

Loving.

Like a reward.

Like a promise.

You didn’t kiss him back.

Didn’t turn your face away, either.

You stood there like a statue. A monument to something twisted and holy. Let him praise you. Let him touch you. Let him cover you in devotion and blood and the sweetness of a love that could burn down a world if it meant keeping you in the ashes.

You weren’t sure what you were anymore.

Not a prisoner.

Not exactly.

Not a partner.

Not fully.

Not a killer.

Not yet.

But his hands, slick and reverent, cradled your face like you were sacred. Like you were his altar. His salvation.

Because you were.

You could see it in his eyes.

He’d ruin himself for you. Had already ruined others. And he’d drown you in that same ruin, over and over again, if it meant keeping you his.

He kissed you once more.

And whispered your name like a hymn.

His girl.

His gift.

His only.

The morning was red.

Not pink. Not gold.

Red.

The kind of light that made the dust in the air look like something alive, like smoke rising off a battlefield no one ever won. It filtered through the bedroom curtains in streaks, bleeding across the wooden floorboards, catching on corners like dried rust.

You stood in front of the mirror with your fingers curled around the edge of the sink, knuckles white, wrists aching from how tightly you gripped. The weight of the necklace still hung heavy on your collarbone. It hadn’t come off. Not when you undressed. Not when you bathed. Not even when you’d scrubbed at it with a rag soaked in rosewater, trying, foolishly, desperately, to pretend that was all it was. A speck. A blemish. A piece of someone else's story, not yours.

But it was yours now.

All of it.

And it wasn’t just blood that had soaked in.

It was his voice, still echoing. The way he whispered encouragements as you dropped that man’s arm into the grave. The way his smile widened when you didn’t run.

The way the man’s eyes stared up from the dirt in your dreams.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. You’d closed your eyes and drifted just long enough for the screaming to follow you in. His scream. Ragged. Human. Then the wet sound of Remmick tearing into him. Again and again and again. It kept looping, each time more vivid than the last.

You looked at your own face now, and all you could see was that man’s.

Mouth open. Arms limp. That flash of horror when he realized he wouldn’t make it out of this house.

Your breath hitched, low in your throat.

Tears stung your eyes.

You blinked them back.

You didn’t hear him come in.

You never did. That was the trouble. He moved through space like something meant to haunt. Silent, smooth, inescapable. The door didn’t creak. The floor didn’t shift.

But you knew.

Your body always knew before your eyes did. The hairs on your arms rose. The air cooled. The stillness deepened into something you could taste.

“Y’ain’t even touched your tea,” he said gently from the doorway, voice all breath and softness. “I kept it warm for ya.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just stared at yourself in the glass, hands trembling against the porcelain. You tried to draw a breath that wouldn’t shake.

Behind you, he stepped closer.

“I’m not mad,” he added. “If that’s what you’re wonderin’. ’Bout last night.”

The words landed like stones on water.

You didn’t respond.

His reflection didn’t show in the mirror.

It never did.

But you didn’t need it to. His voice wrapped around your waist like a second pair of arms, like silk stretched over barbed wire.

“Y’did so good. Did exactly what I needed.” He stepped closer. Slow. Deliberate. “That ain’t small, y’know. What I asked of you. It was big. It meant somethin’.”

You blinked hard, but the tears still clung stubborn at the corners. You clenched the sink edge tighter, like maybe it could tether you. Anchor you. Stop you from suffocating in what you’d done.

“I didn’t want it to mean anything,” you said.

But it cracked when it came out.

Your voice. Your face. Your control.

It cracked all the way down.

You pressed your lips together to keep from making a sound, but your shoulders betrayed you, shuddering once, sharp and tight.

You felt him move in behind you, his presence stretching out like a shadow cast by firelight.

“I know, darlin’,” he comforted. “I know.”

But he didn’t say sorry.

Not once.

And the necklace stayed right where it was. Cool against your skin, glittering like something beautiful, something earned.

Something permanent.

He was behind you now.

You didn’t hear him move. Not a creak of floorboard, not a shift of breath. But suddenly, his arms were around your waist. Strong, steady, certain. Like they’d always been there. Like they belonged there.

You startled, just a little.

But he only pulled you closer, pressing his body to your back with the kind of patience that wasn’t really patience at all. Just control. You could feel the way he held himself, as if something inside him had to be kept still. Contained.

His breath ghosted over your shoulder, cool and damp like a lingering mist. He smelled like clove. And sage. And copper. Always copper.

He rested his chin near your temple, nose nudging lightly into your hair.

“I can take it off,” he offered, voice low and humming. “The necklace. If it’s too much.”

You didn’t answer.

His fingers brushed lightly over the jewels. A whisper of a touch, reverent and slow. He let it linger.

“But I hoped ya’d keep it.”

Your eyes stayed locked on the mirror. On the glinting sapphires. The dried blood now fully gone but not forgotten. You swallowed hard.

“Why?” you asked, barely above a breath.

He leaned in.

Close enough that his lips brushed your neck this time, not your temple. A soft, trailing kiss pressed just beneath your ear. Not hungry. Not rough. But not gentle either.

His voice sank into your skin.

“Because it looks right on ya.”

The words were quiet, but they landed like a hand on your throat.

You didn’t flinch. Not outwardly. Your face stayed calm in the mirror. Your shoulders held.

But inside?

Something gave.

A small, buckling thing. Like a part of you that still wanted to believe you could carry this without changing shape.

He kissed your cheek once, slower now, mouth warm and oddly careful for someone so often careless with your breath.

Then he stepped back.

“I’m headin’ out,” he said, already turning toward the door. “Won’t be long. Won’t go far. Just need to stretch my legs.”

You nodded once.

Didn’t meet his eyes.

You heard his boots on the stairs.

The front door creaked open.

And like always, he left it ajar.

Just enough.

Not enough to invite the wind in. But enough to make a point.

You’re not locked in.

You’re free to go.

But you never did. Not because you couldn’t.

Because he’d folded himself into your bones. Threaded his voice through your thoughts. Left kisses on your pulse like warnings.

Before the door closed behind him, his voice drifted back up the stairs. Just loud enough to reach you.

“I love ya.”

The words sat heavy on the floorboards.

You didn’t say it back.

And you knew he’d remember that.

Would carry it like a splinter under his skin.

Would mention it again someday.

Long after you’d forgotten it.

Long after you’d wished you hadn’t.

You drifted to the garden.

The one Remmick had planted for you, despite his disdain for sunlight. He never called it a gift. Never made a show of it. Just started tending the earth one day, sleeves rolled, mouth quiet, movements deliberate. No shovel. Just his hands. Just his claws, raking slow furrows into the dirt and patting them soft again like he was taking care of something fragile.

You’d watched from the balcony that day, unsure if it was kindness or authority. Maybe both. With him, it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

It was overgrown now.

But beautiful. Wild.

The vines curled over the trellis like they were reaching for something they’d never touch. Lavender bloomed in thick patches near the roots. Moonflowers tilted their faces upward, shy but greedy. He must’ve come through while you were sleeping, added new things. Nightshade, maybe, or something less honest. Plants you didn’t recognize, but that hummed with some secret you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

You crouched beside a clump of jasmine. Ran your fingers along a bloom. Soft, white, too perfect for this place. You et your breath shudder out.

This was what he did.

He gave you things. He built them into your days. Little comforts, stitched between the horrors.

And they worked.

He loved you.

In his way.

It was obsessive. Demanding. It carved pieces out of you, asked for silence when you wanted to scream and closeness when you needed distance. But it wrapped around you, too. Warmed your tea. Laid your slippers out. Whispered your name like a prayer in the middle of the night.

And you.

You didn’t know what you felt.

Not entirely.

But it was real.

Not soft. Not easy. But real.

Real enough to stay.

Real enough to clean up bodies.

Real enough to wear the necklace. Still cool against your skin. Still shining in the light.

You traced the petal again. It trembled slightly beneath your fingertip.

You stood there until the sun dipped low again, until the cicadas started to hum and the air went thick with evening. That slow, syrupy hush that pressed against the back of your throat like a warning. The garden dimmed into blue shadows. The wind stopped moving.

You didn’t need to look at the sky to know it was time.

You went inside.

Back through the back door. Back into the red quiet. The warmth that never left the floorboards. The smell of sugar and copper that clung to the curtains like an old friend. The faint creak of the stairwell. The clock ticking too slow, or maybe just loud.

Back into his house.

Your house.

Home.

And there, waiting for you by the parlor door, was a new pair of shoes.

Sapphire blue.

The exact shade of the necklace.

They didn’t look expensive. Not flashy. Just thoughtful. Too thoughtful. A little too perfect. The soles hadn’t touched ground. The leather looked like cream. Soft enough to bend, strong enough to last.

They were still wrapped in tissue paper. Still perfect.

And on top, a note. Folded twice, edges crisp.

For when you feel like walkin’. But only if I’m with you.

You didn’t cry.

Didn’t smile, either.

You just sat down in the chair beside the box, touched the ribbon. It gave under your fingers, like it had been tied gently. Like it had been placed there just moments before.

And maybe it had.

Maybe he was watching.

Maybe he never stopped.

You looked around the room once. Let your eyes pass over the mantle, the mirror, the empty hallway. Then back to the shoes.

Blue as blood in moonlight.

He wanted you to wear them. To remember him every time you moved. To know you weren’t alone.

That you’d never be alone again.

Even if you wanted to be.

You rested your hands in your lap. Smoothed your palms over the hem of your skirt. And waited.

Because you knew he’d come through the door soon.

And you needed to be ready.

Two bodies.

That was all you saw at first.

The front door swung open on its silent hinges, just wide enough to catch the night air and let in the swamp’s low, humming breath. Then, dragged across the threshold like afterthoughts, came two bodies.

Ankles gripped in Remmick’s fists. One man. One woman. Limp. Unceremonious. Their shoes scraped along the steps with dull thuds, their limbs sagging like broken dolls. Their heads knocked once, twice, against the frame as he yanked them forward over the threshold, then across the floor, right over the woven runner you’d cleaned just yesterday.

He didn’t pause to readjust his grip. Didn’t hoist them up by the arms or cradle the neck. Just dragged them straight across the polished pine, the hem of the woman’s dress catching on a nail, the man’s cuff leaving a damp smear along the grain.

You were already sitting when the door opened. Curled at the far end of the parlor sofa, one leg tucked beneath the other, a book open in your lap. You’d read the same page three times now. Or tried to.

The fire had gone soft, more glow than flame, and the air smelled faintly of lemon oil from the furniture polish you’d used that afternoon. The quiet had stretched long enough to feel foreign. The kind of quiet you always thought maybe, just maybe, meant a reprieve.

But it never did.

And deep down, some awful part of you had known.

You knew it when he left without telling you where.

You knew it when the sun dipped low and the shoes sat untouched beside the door.

You knew it when your fingertips hovered over the necklace at your collarbone, blue and cold and impossibly bright against your skin.

The quiet of the day had been too full.

The stillness too practiced.

The gift too kind.

Now, he was back. And he brought proof of it with him.

Remmick looked up as he stepped inside. Not hurried. Not sheepish. Just calm.

Casual.

As if he’d been returning from a stroll through the garden and not some carnage-stained errand that ended in slaughter.

And he smiled.

Sharp. Crooked. Gleaming even beneath the gore.

His shirt, what was left of it, clung to him in soaked folds. Torn across the collar. Split open down the front. Dark with blood and something thicker beneath. His trousers weren’t better, stiff with drying stains, the cuffs tracking flecks of mud across the parlor floor.

But it was his hands, claws, that made your breath catch.

Those clever, expressive things.

They were soaked up to the elbows, glistening red at the knuckles, sticky across the nails, the fingers flexing slightly as if trying to forget what they’d just done.

The blood hit the floor with every step. Slap. Smear. Slap. The sound seemed to echo, loud against the hush of the house.

And around his neck,

The gold chain.

The same one from all those months ago. When he first walked into your life, quiet and strange and smiling with teeth too white and eyes too old. The chain had caught the afternoon light back then. Made you think of warmth. Of wealth. Of good manners and good shoes and someone just passing through.

Now, it caught nothing.

Just blood.

Draped against the hollow of his throat, the metal barely glinted beneath the gore. But you knew it. Recognized it in a way that made your stomach twist. Not with fear.

With memory.

Back then, he’d brought honey. Compliments. Ribbons.

Now he brought bodies.

And not once, not even as he stepped closer, dragging the corpses across your freshly scrubbed floors, did he look ashamed.

He didn’t stop until they were halfway into the parlor, just a few feet from where you sat.

Close enough that the stink caught up to you. Metal and dirt and something that curled the back of your throat.

You stared.

At the man. At the woman. At Remmick.

At the man who said he loved you.

At the one who’d kissed your neck that morning and murmured, Won’t be long.

At the one who’d bought you shoes.

And finally, finally, looked at you proper.

Then, he smiled again.

Like this was nothing.

Like it was love.

“I got greedy,” he said with a smile that pulled too wide. Too sharp. The kind of smile that didn’t look right on a human mouth. “Ain’t proud of it. But-”

He dropped one of the ankles with a wet thud and dragged a blood-soaked hand through his hair, slicking it back from his brow. The strands clung there, heavy and dark with something not yet dry.

“-damn, if it didn’t feel good.”

The book slipped from your lap.

It hit the floor with a soft thud, pages bending inward like they were trying to hide. You didn’t look down.

Couldn’t.

Remmick tilted his head. The firelight caught in the red sheen along his jaw, the crimson glint in his eyes, the blood on his lashes, the teeth brazenly bared behind his smile. His gold chain lay across his collarbone, no longer shining, just soaked.

“Now don’t start with that look,” he said gently. Like you were being difficult. Like this was a misunderstanding. “Ain’t nothin’ different about this than last time. Just… more.”

You opened your mouth.

Closed it again.

Your throat tightened. Heat rushed up from your chest to your face, fast and dizzying.

“I can’t,” you said. Too soft. A ghost of breath.

He blinked.

You swallowed, tried again, louder this time, firmer. Your voice broke on the last word.

“I can’t do this.”

His smile didn’t disappear. It tilted. Softened. Confused. Like he’d misheard you, like you’d offered a strange joke in poor taste.

“Sure ya can,” he said with a little chuckle. “You’ve done it before.”

“No- Remmick, I mean it.”

You stood too fast and stumbled backward, shoulder bumping into the arm of the couch. Your hands shook. Your legs wouldn’t stay steady. Something inside you wanted to bolt.

“I-I thought I could prepare for this. I thought I’d be ready if it happened again. I tried to be ready.” You gasped, the tears rising too quickly now. “But it’s too much. It’s too much, I can’t- I can’t do it again.”

You covered your mouth with both hands as the sob came. Hot and involuntary. It made your knees buckle.

He didn’t say anything.

Just stood there in the parlor’s golden light, two bodies behind him, the blood still dripping from his sleeves. His shirt was open, clinging to him in places and torn in others, revealing streaks of red drying along the lines of his ribs. The bloodied gold chain at his neck looked too bright against it. Almost sickeningly bright. Like something holy lost in rot, just as defiled.

And yet he watched you.

Like you were the only thing that mattered in the room.

Like the rest of the blood didn’t exist.

Like he liked this. Your shaking, your fear. Or maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe it was something worse. Maybe he needed it.

He dropped the second ankle.

The bodies sprawled in opposite directions, lifeless and heavy, arms twisted beneath them. But his gaze didn’t follow them. Never once did he glance away from you.

He started walking.

Slow, deliberate steps. Not rushed. Not angry. As if trying to convince you to not run away. Even though he knew you wouldn’t.

His claws hadn’t retracted yet.

You could see them now. Long and sharp, extending clean past his fingertips like polished blades. Shimmering wet.

You backed away until your spine met the bookshelf, hands splayed behind you against the wood.

“I’m not mad,” he said gently.

God, why was that worse?

“I just thought ya might help.” he went on.

He was close now. Close enough to breathe in. Close enough to taste the iron in the air. His outline looked too tall in the firelight, too narrow at the shoulders, too still.

You turned your face away, but his hand came up, bloodied, clawed, and cupped your cheek with the same reverence you remembered from quieter mornings. His thumb smeared a tear away.

“You’re cryin’,” he murmured, and it almost sounded like it surprised him.

Then, instead of licking it away, he kissed it. Softly. Slowly. Like he knew that was what you needed. As if that made it better.

You sobbed harder.

“Please,” you whispered, barely able to speak past the tightness in your throat. “Please, Remmick. Not this time. I-I can’t.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against your nape, his breath traveling hot and sticky down your neck.

And then, in the sweetest voice you’d ever heard:

“Sometimes I think about killin’ ya.”

Your whole body went still.

Not in fear.

Not in surprise.

In something worse.

Recognition.

Because you knew. Knew without needing a second breath, that he meant it.

The words didn’t drop like a bomb. They slid in like a knife. Quiet. Precise. Familiar.

He tilted his head, brushing his knuckle down your jaw like he hadn’t just said the most horrifying thing you’d ever heard.

“Every day,” he whispered. “Mornin’ and night. Before ya wake. After ya sleep. When you’re liftin’ the kettle, or brushin’ out your curls, or sayin’ my name like it still means somethin’ soft.”

His eyes were wide now, blue burning red at the center. Hungry. Hollow. A flame with no wick.

His hand drifted down your throat. Light as a feather. He traced the line of your pulse with the back of his knuckle, sighing at the flutter under your skin.

“Don’t mean I want to,” he said. “Not in the way you’re thinkin’. I’d never do it to hurt ya. It ain’t about that.”

You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

He stepped in closer, just close enough that your breath bounced off his shirt. Soaked and stiff with blood, the collar dark and curling at the seams. You could smell it all over him now. On his breath. In his hair. On the chain pressed tight against the hollow of his throat.

“Sometimes,” he started, “I see ya sittin’ there with a book in your hand, brows furrowed, lips pursed, and I think: God, I’d like to still that moment forever. Seal it. Keep it. Bury it right inside me so no one else ever gets to see it.”

His hand dropped lower.

Over your ribs.

The curve of your waist.

“Sometimes,” he went on, his voice still syrup-sweet, “I think about your blood spread out over the floor like a paintin’. The kind of red that don’t fade. The kind that says y’were mine.”

You whimpered.

And it made him shiver.

“But then ya smile at me,” he said. “And I think, no, not yet. Not yet. Let her smile again. Let her ask me what I’m hummin’. Let her scold me for trackin’ dirt into the kitchen. Let her keep bein’ good.”

His hands moved again. Gentle. Worshipful.

He wrapped them around your hips and turned you, slow, pressing you backward until your thighs brushed the edge of the sofa.

Until you could see the bodies again.

Still sprawled on the parlor floor.

Still leaking onto the wood.

Your knees locked.

Remmick lowered you down like you were made of glass. One hand cradling your spine, the other smoothing your skirt beneath you. He sat beside you, far too close. Turned to face you as if there was space to spare.

His claws scraped your knee where the fabric had risen.

“Y’see, darlin’,” he said, cupping your face again, “it ain’t about cruelty. It’s about closeness. I love ya so much I can’t figure out what to do with it. It don’t burn clean. It don’t settle.”

His eyes gleamed.

“I wanna take ya in. Swallow ya whole. Wear your name on the inside of my mouth. I want ya with me, inside me, forever. That’s what this is.”

You were shaking now.

Tears welled, but you couldn’t blink them away. They just sat there, blurring the edges of him. Of the room. Of the lifeless shapes still cooling on the floor.

“Ya think I don’t see it in ya too?” he lied, so confidently that you almost found yourself believing it. “That same want? That same ache? Ya look at me like I’m already inside you.”

You made a choked sound. Couldn’t tell if it was protest or grief.

He kissed the corner of your mouth again.

Then lower.

Your jaw.

Your throat.

His hands roamed with reverence, but they were still stained.

And it was still happening.

“Sometimes,” he breathed, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “I think I’ll wake one mornin’ and do it. Just let it happen. Let my love finish what it started. But I haven’t yet.”

He leaned back just enough to look at you.

His kissed a tear from your cheek.

“I haven’t,” he said again, softly. “Y’should remember that.”

You should’ve screamed.

Run.

Shoved him back.

Instead, you stared at him through tear-glossed lashes. Silent. Spinning. Unmoored.

He leaned in once more. Kissed your cheek like it was something fragile.

“Y’don’t ever have to be afraid of me, sugar. Long as ya stay.”

And for a moment, just a moment, you almost believed him.

Remmick’s lips brushed yours, feather-light at first, a barely-there caress that left you reeling. You could taste the copper tang of blood on his mouth, feel the warmth of it against your skin. Your breath caught as he pulled back slightly, just enough to feel his breath against your face. A soft huff of air, a reassurance.

But then his hand slid up your spine, blood smearing across your dress, and all softness fled.

This time, when his mouth met yours, there was no gentleness. No hesitation. Just hunger, visceral and consuming. He kissed you like he wanted to devour you whole, his lips slanting over yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth and claiming every inch of it as his own.

You whimpered, fingers groping at his shoulders, but whether to push him away or pull him closer, you didn’t know. Your thoughts were muddled, thick with fear and revulsion and a deep, wrenching want you couldn’t name. He tasted like death. Like sin. Like every dark fantasy you’d ever had but never dared speak aloud.

He yanked your head back to bare your throat, kissing down it, hot and open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your skin. His other hand, which had been stroking idly up and down your side, slipped under your skirt. You tensed, a protest rising in your throat, but he shushed you before you could voice it.

“Shh, now,” he murmured against your throat, fangs ghosting over your skin. “You’ve been achin’ for this. Starvin’ for it. A man’s hands. A man’s mouth. And ain’t it a mercy it’s mine givin’ it to ya?”

His fingers brushed your inner thigh, dragging through the wetness that had gathered there. You could feel the scrape of his claws, even through the fabric of your panties. A shudder ran through you, and you hated yourself for it. Hated that some twisted part of you wanted this, wanted him, even like this, covered in blood and filth and the evidence of his crimes.

He teased you through the thin fabric, his touch light and maddening. Circling. Flicking. Dipping just inside the edge before pulling away again. You whined, hips bucking of their own accord, desperate for more. More pressure. More friction. More something, anything to ground you in the midst of this debauched nightmare.

“Please,” you gasped, not even sure what you were asking for. For him to stop? For him to keep going? For the world to open up and swallow you whole, so you didn’t have to reckon with this unfamiliar depravity?

He chuckled, dark and indulgent. “Greedy girl,” he chided, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t worry darlin’. I’ll give ya what y’need.”

He punctuated his words with a hard press of his fingers, rubbing rough circles over the damp fabric. You cried out, back arching, lungs seizing with the intensity of it. It was too much. Not enough. Your thoughts were fragmenting, splintering under the force of your need. You felt like you were drowning in it.

In him.

And still, he whispered filthy things in your ear, coating your skin in his words. Telling you how much he loved you. How much he needed you. How he’d do anything to keep you, even this. Especially this.

Remmick sucked at your throat, slow, deliberate, letting the warmth rise, letting you squirm. Then, without warning, he bit down. Deep. Sharp. A growl rumbled from his chest at the sound you made, part gasp, part sob, and he shivered like it thrilled him. “That’s it,” he breathed, lips glossy with blood and spit. “Sing for me, sweetheart.”

He growled as he left a map of his obsession on your flesh, fingers finally shoving your panties aside to slide through your slick folds.

Inside, something was screaming. Screaming for you to run, to fight, to do anything but this. To not let him take you like this, stained with the blood of innocents, surrounded by the evidence of his madness.

But your body... your body was betraying you. Arching into his touch. Soaking his fingers. Trembling with a heat you’d never known before. A heat that was as twisted and all-consuming as he was.

He pushed his fingers inside you, and you cried out at the stretch, the burn of it. He was big, bigger than you’d ever had, and the scrape of his claws against your inner walls only added to the intensity of it. It hurt, God, it hurt, but with every flex of his fingers, every curl and twist, you were hit with a new pang of euphoria, a pleasure so sharp it was almost painful.

You were so close, teetering on the edge of something huge and shattering, when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, leaving you achingly empty. You whimpered, hips bucking, seeking, but before you could even form a protest, he was pushing your legs apart, baring you completely to his gaze.

And then, without warning, he was on you, his mouth hot and wet and voracious. He ate you out like an animal, fangs still bared, growling into your flesh like he wanted to consume you whole. The sounds he made were obscene, wet and slurping, echoing in the quiet of the room like some kind of debauched symphony.

You thrashed beneath him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling, pushing, trying to get him closer, get him away, you didn’t even know anymore. The pleasure was cresting higher and higher, coiling tighter and tighter, a spring on the verge of snapping. You felt like you were being flayed alive by it, torn apart piece by piece by piece.

And when you finally broke, it was with a scream that tore from your throat like a wound. You came so hard you saw stars, your vision whiting out, your lungs seizing, your body convulsing. And through it all, he just kept lapping at you, drinking down every drop of your pleasure like it was the finest wine. Like he couldn’t get enough of your taste, your need, your everything.

Your breath came in sharp pants, thoughts equally scattered. Fragmented. Lost in the haze of pleasure and horror that clouded your mind.

And then, with a monumental effort, you pushed him away. Or tried to. Your arms felt weak, your muscles trembling with the backlash of your climax.

He looked up at you, his face soaked with your arousal, a feral smile spreading across his lips. “I’m not done yet, darlin’,” he growled with a low rumble that vibrated through you. He tore at his clothes, ripping the blood-soaked shirt over his head, exposing his crimson-streaked torso. You tried to protest again, but he shushed you with a kiss, a deep, consuming kiss that left you tasting yourself, him, and the metallic tang of blood.

He lined himself up at your entrance, and you could feel the heat of him, the thickness, the promise of what was to come. You tensed, a flutter of panic in your chest. “Remmick, I-” you started, but he cut you off with another kiss, his hips surging forward, impaling you in one swift, brutal stroke.

You cried out, a sound of pain and pleasure mingled together, your nails digging into his back as he filled you completely. He was nothing you could’ve prepared yourself for, stretching you to your limits, the sensation was nearly unbearable. He started to move, his hips rolling in a rhythm that was both primal and precise, each thrust driving him deeper, harder, more relentlessly than the last.

“God, ya feel so good, sugar,” he moaned against your neck with a huff that made you shiver. “So tight. So wet. Y’were made for this. Made for me.”

You could feel the soreness building, the ache of being stretched, of being taken so ruthlessly. Your body was overwhelmed, every nerve ending firing, every sensation heightened to almost unbearable levels. You whimpered, your hips bucking in time with his thrusts, unable to do anything but take what he was giving you.

Remmick’s eyes were wild, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he drove into you. “Look at ya,” he panted, voice so thick with lust you could barely understand him. “So beautiful. So perfect. Ya take my cock like a dream.”

He leaned down, licking the tears that streamed down your face, his tongue hot and wet against your skin as he purred. “Ya taste so sweet when you cry.”

You tried to divert your attention, to escape the intensity of his near-crimson gaze and the raw, animalistic need that burned in his eyes. It was a need that terrified you to your very core. Your eyes darted around the room, seeking anything to anchor yourself to, anything to distract from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

Your gaze landed on the necklace that swayed from his neck. That blood-soaked gold chain that glinted dully in the firelight. That gold chain that followed you from the life you once had to now, wrapped in Remmick’s embrace, his body moving against yours in a rhythm as old as time.

He noticed your distraction, a cruel, knowing smile playing on his lips as he reached up and took the necklace into his mouth. He bit down on the gold, his teeth sinking into the metal with a force that should have bent it, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he groaned, the words muffled around the jewelry. “Focus on that. Focus on me. On how good this feels.”

And God help you, he was right. It did feel good. So good it hurt. So good it was almost too much to bear. The pleasure was a sharp, piercing thing, a knife’s edge of ecstasy that left you breathless and dizzy. With each thrust, each roll of his hips, each brutal, delicious stroke, the pressure inside you built, a coiled spring ready to snap, your body teetering on the brink of something monumental.

You could feel the guilt gnawing at you. A dark, insidious thing that clawed at the edges of your mind, trying to break through the haze of pleasure. How could you find enjoyment in this? How could your body respond so eagerly to his touch? To his invasion? You knew the depth of his depravity. The extent of his crimes. You were a willing participant. An accomplice.

You were ashamed of the moans that fell from your lips, ashamed of the way your body moved with his, ashamed of the desperate, keening cries that escaped you as he brought you higher, closer to the edge of oblivion.

Remmick's hips continued to roll in a relentless rhythm, his body glistening with sweat, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. He leaned down, his voice a drunken, fervent whisper against your ear, his words a mix of promise and threat. “M’gonna put a baby in ya, sugar. Gonna fill you up. Watch ya get all fat ’n slow ’n pretty.”

His words sent a shock of panic through you. A cold, paralyzing fear that cut through the haze of pleasure and left you reeling. You tried to push him away, your hands pressing against his chest, your body tensing as you tried to escape the inevitable. “Remmick, no-” you gasped, your voice hoarse, your eyes wide with a mix of terror and pleading. “You can’t-”

But he was relentless, his body pinning you down, his strength overpowering yours in a way that left you feeling helpless. Trapped. He captured your wrists in one hand, holding them above your head as he continued to move inside you, his hips never ceasing their brutal, demanding rhythm. “Shh,” he cooed, his voice a low, soothing purr that contrasted sharply with the wild, untamed look in his eyes. “You’ve been askin' for this. You’ve been beggin' for it. I know you have. And I’m gonna give it to you.”

He leaned down, tongue invading your mouth, exploring, conquering, silencing your protests as he continued to move inside you.

You tried to turn your head, to break the kiss, to gasp for air, but he followed, his lips never leaving yours, his breath mingling with yours, his tongue continuing its relentless exploration. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly, his lips moving against yours with a suffocating desperation, as if he were trying to pour every ounce of his being into you. To consume you wholly.

“Remmick, please-” you managed to gasp as he finally broke the kiss, your chest heaving, your body trembling with a mix of fear, pleasure, and something else, something almost akin to desperation. “I can’t-”

But he only smiled, a slow, knowing smile that sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and trepidation. “Ya can, sugar,” he insisted, the lack of choice you had in the matter laced on every word. “And ya will.”

With a final, shuddering thrust, he buried himself deep, his whole body seizing tight as he spilled inside you, breath caught somewhere between a grunt and a gasp. His mouth found your shoulder, and without pause, he bit down. Hard. Fangs sinking deep. The pressure broke through your skin, and the sound that left him was low and guttural. Like it came from the oldest part of him.

The pain hit first. Bright. Hot. A sudden wash of heat that bled through your dress and soaked down your arm. You cried out, not just from the hurt, but from the way it tangled with everything else. Your spine arched, your chest heaving, your head going light from the sheer force of it.

Remmick didn’t stop. Didn’t pull away. His hands gripped tight around your hips, and he moved through the aftershocks like he couldn’t bear to let the moment end. The bite held you still. Anchored. The only sound in the room was the ragged pull of his breathing and the faint sound of blood dripping onto the sofa.

When he finally stilled, he didn’t let go, or pull out.

He licked over the wound slow, careful, as if tasting something rare. As if trying to commit it to memory. A quiet sound rose in his throat, something between a hum and a sigh, and you felt it against your skin.

You were shaking.

Spent.

And he held you like you were something precious, something ruined, something he couldn’t stop himself from needing.

The sheets smelled like lavender. Fresh. Clean. As if nothing had ever happened at all. As if you hadn’t just laid beneath him in the room where the bodies had gone cold, their blood still tacky on the floorboards.

As if he hadn’t taken you with that same blood smeared down his chest, soaked into his sleeves, crusted along his jaw.

As if he hadn’t whispered love into your mouth while fucking you raw against the parlor sofa, his hands pinning yours down, his hips relentless, the broken cries that spilled from your throat sounding too much like pleading and too little like pleasure.

And then, when it was over, when your body was wrecked and shivering, your legs too weak to stand, he’d kissed your forehead like a lullaby, scooped you up in his arms like you weighed nothing at all, and carried you to the bath.

The tub was already full.

Of course it was.

Warm. Steaming. Waiting for you.

You’d wondered, hazily, if he’d drawn it before or after.

He didn’t speak as he undressed you. Just peeled the ruined nightgown from your skin with slow, reverent fingers. His claws retracted now, nails blunted and gentle. No urgency. No demand. Only care.

The water lapped up around your body as he eased you in, one hand holding your back, the other at your hough, lowering you as though you might break apart in his arms.

He didn’t get in with you. Not at first.

Just knelt beside the tub and cupped water over your shoulders, your breasts, your thighs. Ran a cloth down your spine. Washed you in long, slow strokes, like he was trying to scrub the memory of the bodies from your skin before it sank too deep.

But it already had.

Still, you let him work. Let him wash your hair, comb it through with his fingers. Let him tilt your head back and rinse it clean. Let him trace every curve of your body like it was scripture.

He scrubbed the blood from your shoulder with painstaking tenderness, kissing the half-healed wound in between passes, calling you his miracle, his mercy, his girl.

His voice never rose. Not once.

Not even when you flinched from his touch. Not even when you cried.

He kissed your eyes dry.

You thought about the quiet days. The good ones. When he made breakfast in the morning and left hibiscus tea on your nightstand. When he sang while he cooked. When he brushed your hair with such delicacy you almost forgot what his hands were capable of.

And you thought about the other days. The long silences. The backhanded questions. The hollow, hateful stares that brought you to tears.

Your body ached in places you didn’t have names for. Inside and out.

And he was so gentle now.

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you let him rinse the soap from your skin and lift you out of the tub. Let him wrap you in a towel, thick and warm, smelling faintly of clove and firewood.

Let him dry you off. Let him carry you to his bedroom, both of you silent now, except for his breath brushing against your temple.

The mattress dipped under your weight. The pillows caught your head like a secret. The blanket was heavy in the best way, and his arms found you again before you could move away.

Remmick curled around you like a second skin. One arm beneath your waist. One over your belly.

His fingers didn’t move. Just stayed there, still and steady, like they could already feel what had been made between you.

His mouth was at your neck again, breath soft, lips barely brushing.

And still, you didn’t sleep.

You just stared into the dark, remembering the warmth of his voice when he called you good. Remembering the snap of bone. The wet sound of flesh giving way. The feel of his body slamming into yours with no hesitation, no mercy, like love could be beaten into you if he just took enough of you for himself.

He shifted behind you. Pulled you closer.

There was no space left between your bodies.

None between the truth and the lie of it.

And you still didn’t move.

You kept your eyes open. Fixed on the wall.

And thought about everything.

About your daddy’s store. You thought about that first. The sound of the bell over the door, bright and sweet as wind chimes. The gentle sweep of the broom on the front steps every morning. You thought about how the sun used to come in through the big front windows, painting long streaks of gold across the shelves. You used to watch the dust swirl in the light and think it looked like magic.

You thought about the girls you’d grown up with. How you used to sit on porch rails with your legs swinging, eating too much candy and daring each other to run barefoot down the gravel road. You wondered where they were now. If they were married. If they had babies.

If they thought about you.

You wondered if any of them had come by the store. If they’d stood on the same wooden floorboards you once stood on and asked your daddy where you’d gone. If they were told you were gone for good.

Or maybe they didn’t ask at all.

Maybe they figured you’d run off with a man, like so many girls did when the world backed them into a corner and made them choose between being loved or being lonely.

You thought about your mama next.

About how she used to wrap your hair at night, hands gentle but firm, fingers slick with oil. She never let you skip it, not even once. Not even when you pouted and said you weren’t a baby anymore. “Still my baby,” she’d say, tying the scarf with a kiss to your forehead.

You thought about what she’d say now. Whether she’d still hold you close, or just hold your face and try not to cry. You didn’t know if she’d recognize you.

Not like this. Not with him.

Remmick shifted behind you in the bed, stirring as if he could feel your thoughts pulling you too far. He curled tighter. Pulled you in with him. One arm clutched low around your waist, the other curling beneath your ribs. Like he was trying to mold his shape to yours. Like if he could just hold you close enough, you’d stop trying to leave, mind or body.

And maybe he was right.

Maybe he could fold you into him, press you so deep into his chest you’d forget where you ended and he began.

You blinked slow.

Your throat ached.

The room was quiet. The air was warm. The shadows on the walls flickered and stretched like they didn’t know where to settle. The lamp on the dresser hummed soft and low, casting gold against the covers, turning everything honeyed and still.

There was no lock on the door.

No chain at your ankle.

No order in his voice.

But it was a cage all the same.

A soft, warm, gilded cage.

And you had stayed.

Because where else was there to go?

You’d imagined leaving. Dozens of times. Pictured it clear as glass. The road winding long and empty behind you. The night cool on your skin. Your heart in your mouth.

But every time you chased that dream far enough, it ended in the same place.

Here.

With him.

You’d made too many trades along the way. Traded silence for safety. Traded truth for comfort. Traded fear for something that looked too much like love to name it anything else.

And now you had nothing left to bargain with.

You’d redrawn the line a hundred times, and now the chalk had run out.

So you stopped thinking.

Let your muscles go slack.

Let the ache in your chest press itself into the mattress. Let the silk of his voice echo in your head.

You’re safe, darlin’.

My beautiful girl.

I love ya.

And finally, you let yourself go.

[sapphicideas]

kind of a vent and you can just ignore this if you want. I’m a college age bi tgirl who’s been having a bit of a rough time of it. I’ve done my best to be picky but it feels like all the worst people just throw themselves at me. From emotionally manipulative girl, to boy who blatantly cheated on me when I didn’t want to have sex right away, another girl who after I turned her down decided to try to rape me, just to name a few. Every time I feel like it’ll be different, like I’ve sifted through and found someone who is genuine and then I just get fucked over again. Either they only want me for my body to fill their fetish, or the leave once they find out about it thinking I’m gross, or they just want to try and manipulate me and get upset when I try to stand up for myself, or maybe I’m just a novelty and they get bored and leave. It just kind of feels like at this point this is just what I deserve I guess. I don’t know where I’m going with this I think I just wanted to try and get it out of my system. It’s just exhausting feeling like no matter what I do I always get fucked over.

first of all, i want to say that i am extremely sorry you're going through that. college alone is extremely stressful and situations like this just make that even worse.

you don't deserve any of this. i know it might feel like you do because after enduring so much of this bad stuff, our mind starts to believe that no matter what we do, it won't make a difference. it's like our brain just gives up on trying to fight it and just learns to accept it, instead of realizing the situation could change. bad coping mechanisms are probably feeding this negative thinking pattern too, so it's very important for you to start working on your self esteem and the way you deal with these kinds of situations. if you don't, it will eat you alive.

each time you experience that kind of self doubt, i want you to immediately shut down that negative thought and replace it with a question instead. something like 'assuming it's not my fault, what other explanation could this have?' for example, in your case you said 'i guess it's just what i deserve' which is wrong. i want you to ask yourself that question and realize that you are not at fault. the answer should be 'this person overstepped my boundaries, made me feel bad and hurt me. but i'm not at fault, i can't control other people's actions'. remember, you can only control how you react to the attack itself. if you still don't fully believe that, think about it as if it was a friend or even a complete stranger. blaming someone for getting hurt or used doesn't sound nice, does it? i'm sure you would never do that. so why would you do that to yourself?

you need to treat yourself the way you'd treat someone else, have some self compassion. you don't deserve anything bad, and you're not stupid for not realizing someone's intentions beforehand. people can be really manipulative, and that's not your fault. it's okay to feel hurt, and it's okay to realize someone didn't have good intentions with you. none of that reflects your true worth. you're not less human for not being able to anticipate someone's deceiving behavior. believe me, it's hard for everyone, even for me. and i'd say i'm pretty good at reading people.

i like that you're being picky, i want you to keep having hope. even if that means stepping away from the dating scene for a bit. focus on healing first. keeping that hope intact is what matters the most, not giving someone a chance just because 'they're nice' or 'i think they're treating me okay'. set boundaries, step by step. and don't give up, you're so strong, pretty girl. if you have to stop talking to someone who makes you feel bad, do it. it might hurt in the moment, but in 2 years you won't ever remember their name, i can assure you that.

you don’t have to have it all figured out today or tomorrow, maybe not even next month. it takes so long to unlearn bad habits, even longer than it takes to learn new ones.

sorry it took me this long to reply, i completely missed this ask. and i'm sorry for the actual bible that this response has been, my god. but i figured that if you didn't come back with another ask, i'd just lay the whole thing out there. stay strong, you're loved and worthy of respect. that's the bare minimum, take care princess

[sludgekludge]

What are your thoughts on the sins individually, if you don't mind me asking?

i think viv is really really scared to have her blorbos embody really negative traits so i think half of the sins we've been properly introduced to do a dogshit job at actually embodying the sin they represent because of this lol. why do half of them not suck more as people. why don't they embody their sins, viv.

this ended up being kinda longer than i meant so im dumping it under a read more vv

bephelgor's only my icon because i'm also sleepytired and want to go to bed. her design is endearing to me, but still a mess, and if she's meant to be inspired by baphomet, it kinda sucks she's not more androgynous, imo, at least give her a little goat beard. not much to say because she was more of a decorative vase than a character. fascinating how we see the remaining women sins and neither of them speak!

leviathan. sorry this is a bit meaner than i usually try to be. i hate her design so bad. i don't know what people like about it. you can like it obviously. but god. i could go on a tangent here about it but i won't. her design makes me chew foil. super cool that they gave her more screentime though and instead of talking, she gets to sit there silently while being hit on by a man instead. fascinating how-

asmodeus bores me, all of the haha sex jokes in this show are so obnoxious so whenever they bring up that he's the Sex One my eyes roll outta my head. his design is…not at all my cup of tea but i won't say it's atrocious. the palette is unique, at least, by hellaverse standards. i liked him in his first appearance but he's since been declawed and now he's a weally nice guy actually who's all about consent and his wholesome chungus monogomous relationship, which is so fucking lame. could make a bigger post about him honestly. him and fizz are a couple of the saddest victims to 'super scared to write her blorbos being genuinely nasty' thing imo

mammon endeared me initially, but his mastermind appearance sucks. i like his design for the most part (centipede. why centipede. make him a funnelweb) and the fact he's clearly a silly guy on purpose. dresses like a jester by choice. he's evil, AND silly, that's fun. while he's a bit dense in his initial appearance, he's clever enough to know exactly how to manipulate fizz emotionally, and then in mastermind he's this big lumbering dumbass fat fuck who eats sloppily and he's gross and yucky and stupid ewww!! what a cool way to write your like, 1 recurring fat character vivzienne popsicle. lets make a joke specifically about how he has a big stomach. very cool his asexuality was clearly tacked on last-minute and he's clearly not written with that in mind, also kind of weird to canonise him as such when you're writing him to be this undesirable gross slob. i like him in theory, but he also says a lot about how viv views fat/asexual people and it's kind of soured me to him a little. shame. could go more into him, but i'll stop here.

we can't make beezlebub fat though, that's fatphobic! that's why she's thin! ik her design was a whole debacle and i don't care for it but i think it's blown a bit out of proportion. she's just another vivziepop design, i dont think she's uniquely terrible, maybe aside from being a bad rep of gluttony, but i saw more people talking about the bee thing than that. i do think it was kind of a huge mistake to make her so indistinguishable from hellhounds, biggest problem with her design imo. it's clear they wrote her to be deliberately really cool and likeable because she's Kesha, though. she's a typical nice popular party girl. i watched lps series with characters exactly like her when i was 12. sin of gluttony, don't overindulge though bro look after yourself :(

satan is inoffensive. i find him/his design to be kind of generic? but not overtly terrible. big dragon just feels a bit boring to me to who is apparently the penultimate sin, bar lucifer. admittedly, i kind of like the bit that he's got this little guy he listens too. big sucker for silly dynamics like that when they're played straight. wish i knew why the lil guy's robe kept changing colours, though. he's kinda wishy-washy and generic. don't get why any of the sins are intimidated by him when he gives stolas a slap on the wrist that stolas doesn't even have to grovel for, purely for being royalty lol. what's he gonna do to the sins if they step out of line? wag a finger at them? the whole 'he's lying about ruling before lucifer' thing was dumb and should've been caught before the episode went out.

lucifer i have enough to say about that it could probably also be its own post but to keep it short...ish, i think he's kind of inconsistent and weirdly written. they're really scared to write him as genuinely morally dubious and that's lame. they blended like 4 sexyman archetypes into 1 for him. he's so clearly y/n bait that it makes my eyes roll into the back of my skull…characters should get their y/n fiction naturally god dammit stop manufacturing sexymen in the lab!!! his design annoys me but i guess the whole 'pretty porcelain doll' thing makes sense and since he's a fallen angel, corrupted purity or something, wears symbols of himself (apples/snake) all over so Pride, like FINE, i get it, i still flick peanut shells at him though. thin ice. bitch

basically my favourite is like almost mammon i think but he's got weird uncomfortable connotations so i guess it's bephelgor because she doesn't exist enough to do anything to annoy me yet

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

this is long. i shouldn't be airing my dirty laundry out on tumblr, but i need to get it out. this needs to be cathartic for me. proceed with caution, for under the cut will be the ramblings of my past two weeks.

this song? this is the anthem of my life right now. and the damage i have to repair, piece by piece.

TRIGGER WARNING. suicidal ideation, abuse, lying.

wednesday, 7th may. 2025.

i wake up, i am getting my nails done for the weekend ahead. i am so excited for the convention. i cannot wait to meet some of my faves, make new friends, and do something for myself for once.

after almost six long years being with my partner (we'll call him ty from here on out), my self esteem and confidence has whittled away to almost nothing. i have been alone, stripped of my sense of self. the huge circle of friends i once had? decimated. i have been sucked into this relationship so deep, i have lost any and all identity that was my own.

the months leading up to the convention? dreadful. i cannot be excited about it in front of ty because he doesn't want me to go. so, i have been excited about it on tumblr, to my immediate family, but to my partner? the person who i'm supposed to share everything with? i have to dampen my excitement. i can't show any kind of passion or happiness for the con.

i'm getting my nails done, he heads back to our flat, and goes through my tumblr. this tumblr. sees me flirting with my friends, reads messages where i'm having flirty, playful banter (you know, like we all do with one another?) and decides i'm unfaithful. he breaks up with me and leaves the flat. i take our son to my mum's house, get home, stay excited about my convention.

because i know for a fact that he wanted me to cancel going. and that's why he broke up with me the day before i was supposed to be leaving.

i don't cancel. i go. over the weekend, he does little things to try and hurt me, little messages or hints online that he's trying to temper my enjoyment of the con. it doesn't work. i don't let it. because i have been waiting for seven months for the convention, and it is one of the best weekends of my life.

monday, 12th may. 2025.

i get home, he tries to rekindle things, and i tell him no. but he stays at the flat because he has nowhere else to go. this flat is mine. in my name. it was gracious and compassionate of me to let him come back.

i let him live with me, but i say that perhaps we should try an "open relationship"... my mistake. i should have never, ever suggested this because i know what i'm like and i know i can't handle that. but he jumps at the idea, he is so happy about it.

i talk to someone from my past. ty finds a young, dumb twenty year old girl (he's thirty-two, almost thirty-three) and begins talking to her. the saturday comes and he asks me if he's okay to go meet her tomorrow, on the sunday. i nod, but i'm already regretting the open relationship and i want to take it all back.

saturday, 17th may. 2025.

we put our child to bed, as well as his two sons from his previous relationship. then he turns to me, declares that we should rip the bandaid off now, and that he's going to meet her tonight.

i break down.

i sob, i beg. i say i can't come back from this. i won't be able to be with him if he chooses to go have sex with this girl.

he grows angrier and angrier as the hours pass. he becomes dismissive, cold, withholding. he starts telling me i'm being emotionally manipulative for crying. i'm "too much" for him. that he's disgusted because i'm so emotional. that i just need to let it happen. that we need to see if this can work between us.

he's essentially trying to force it onto me, while i'm sobbing and begging him not to.

at one point, he's not even looking at me... i'm sobbing, hysterical, begging him to talk to me. and he's just messaging her. ignoring me. the mother of his child, the woman he's been with for almost six years.

eventually, he cancels, but is pissed at me about it. then overnight, he sleeps soundly in my bed, while i lie beside him, trying to sob as quiet and still as i can so that i don't wake him or anger him more.

i don't sleep. the morning comes.

sunday, 18th may. 2025.

ty wakes up and i am calm. i have nothing left to give, emotionally. i am numb. i tell him that i can't be with him. i start packing his stuff. i tell him i need the key back to my flat. he isn't welcome under my roof anymore if he's so willing to throw away what we were trying to work back to for some twenty year old girl.

i tell him he isn't welcome in my home. i tell him that if he ever steps foot in my house again after meeting her, i'll cave his fucking head in.

he leaves. he's supposed to be meeting her today anyway so he takes his two other kids and goes. i stay with my son. we go meet din, my dad, and get out for the day.

at 6pm, i get home... and i have this gut feeling. this disgusting, crawling feeling in the pit of my stomach, like a living thing creeping around inside of me. i know he's met her... i know he's with her right now.

that night, i get into bed. at 12:25am, he messages me. tells me he didn't meet her. tells me he doesn't want to meet anyone because he only wants me that way. that there's "no point in meeting people if we aren't doing it in an open relationship." and that one stings.

because it mattered enough to him the night before when he was trying to force it on me. suddenly, it's not worth it? why wasn't it not worth it when i was at breaking point? why wasn't it not worth it when i was sobbing and begging and pleading with you?

i don't believe him. i had that gut feeling. i know he met her.

tuesday, 20th may. 2025.

he says he would like to talk to me, i accept. but i tell him he isn't coming into my flat. we take our son to the park... we talk. he tells me he's sorry for the other night. that he knows he was wrong. that he didn't meet her, he blocked her, he deleted her.

i told him about the gut feeling i'd had on the sunday, and he laughed... told me that he was sitting on his bed at his parents house at that time, with a knife pressed to his wrist, debating just ending it all.

it starts getting later, and he's talking about how his new medication is making him hallucinate. and me, being the stupid, fucking naive, caring empath i am... invite him to stay the night, so i know he's safe. i don't want him making the hour journey back to his parents if he's experiencing that sort of stuff.

he sleeps in my living room on an airbed. i make sure he's fed. one night turns to three. we never hug or kiss or have sex. we barely touch. but i let him stay.

thursday, 22nd may. 2025.

he has a bath. he texts me from my bathroom, asking me to come "help" him masturbate. i tell him no. he comes out a while later and we watch tv for a little while longer.

he asks me if we're going to get back together, i tell him not for a very long time, if ever. that he broke my heart and my trust and that i don't believe him anymore. that i don't know how to reconcile who he is with who i thought he was. then i head to bed.

all through the night, i am riddled with dreams of going through his phone, finding out he lied about all of it... that he did meet her. that they did have sex. that he's lying to me. doesn't matter how many times i wake up and go back to sleep, the same dream haunts me like a bad rerun.

friday, 23rd may. 2025.

i wake up at 7am. i head into the living room. i grab his phone from beside him. i take it to my room and go through it.

turns out that that horrible gut feeling i had at 6pm on the sunday??? was right. they were together at that moment. but worse?

he never blocked her.

they were messaging last night.

he was sending her nudes from my fucking bathroom, videos from my bath of him wanking. asking her when she wanted to meet again. the stuff they were saying to one another? disgusting, vile, unhinged. in all the worst ways.

i recorded everything from my phone. i have the proof that he's lied and that he's been speaking to her the whole time.

i head into the living room, i wake him up, i drop his phone on him. i tell him he needs to get the fuck out of my house, now. i punch his arm. he gets up, gets dressed.

i'm calling him disgusting. evil. manipulative. pathological. sick. the worst cunt i've ever met in my life. every name i can think of, because he is truly the worst human being i've ever known.

i let him back into my house, let him stay, fed him, cared for him... and he was sitting beside me the entire time, messaging her. lying through his teeth about how she's blocked. lying to me. abusive, disgusting, vile cunt.

i kick him out, i message his mum to tell her everything, i block him on everything.

as he leaves, i don't look at him or talk to him.

his mum phones me and apologises... we talk for half an hour, she is disgusted with him. i tell her this won't effect her relationship with my son, that i will bring him to see her whenever she wants, but that i will never have ty back in my house again. i don't ever want to see him, again.

now? now i rebuild. now i get back to myself. the me i deserve to be, the me he crushed to nothing, the me he took as a young, dumb, vulnerable girl and warped in his own image.

i deserve to be me. for me, and for my son.

“no chance that i could say no / i felt a hand on my throat”

this is what he did when he used my empathy like a chokehold. when he said "i'm on new meds," and "i tried to kill myself," and me, soft and breaking, let him in. i couldn't say no—not because i was weak, but because i was still trying to save someone who wouldn't stop drowning me.

“let's wait and see where this goes / time flies with your eyes closed"

how many nights passed like that? three days. multiple lies. untold manipulations. i let him stay hoping it was a step forward— but my eyes were half-closed, exhausted, half-trusting, half still bleeding. and now i'm here. wide awake.

“what's the point if you're living in a conflict / with no pilot in the cockpit”

yes. yes. yes. i was holding up a burning plane alone. trying to co-pilot a relationship with someone who bailed on the controls a long time ago. i was fighting for stability, for safety, while he was texting another girl from the fucking crash site.

“cold sweats gonna wake you in the morning”

—i have been living this. panic. nausea. knowing something wasn't right. feeling it in my bones, in my chest, even before i found the proof.

my body always knew.

“when all your energies come back / you're going red in the face / and you don't know what to do with your hands”

this is me right now. the rage. the clarity. the aftermath. the shaking. the need to scream, to punch a wall, to wash him off my skin. i don't know where to put the pain. i don't know how to carry the "spark in your brain / and the flood in your veins" —but i am back. and it's burning bright.

“back to back with old enemies / can't relax 'cause there's no remedy / keep fighting your memories”

he is the old enemy. my own hope is the old enemy. i keep revisiting every memory, asking “was that a lie too?” i can't relax. because he poisoned my home, my bed, my heart.

there's no quick fix. just war. and then healing.

“no chance to say my goodbyes / i'll leave when the mood dies / i only came for the highs”

—this is his verse. his selfishness. he didn't stay for the grief. the accountability. the slow rebuilding. he showed up, high on being wanted, and left when the mood died. he came for comfort. not consequence. he left me gutted.

“red mist in the moonlight”

that's my anger. my heartbreak. my clarity. my line in the sand. this is the night it all changed. and i will never go back.

“there's no rules in a mosh-pit / no returns if you feel a little nauseous”

it was chaos. no boundaries. no care. he expected me to take the hit and say “thank you.”

but now i'm crawling out. bloody-mouthed. bruised. but free.

“when you're losing your patience / and you feel like there's no way back / and the blood in your veins runs / with a whole new shade of black”

this is me tonight. i've lost my patience. i've crossed the threshold. there is no way back. the woman i was when i let him in? gone. what’s left? a survivor. fury.

a whole new shade of black.

“can't you see that i'm shaking / and i'm hoping you'll understand / it's a welcome invasion / when all your energies come back”

i am back. broken. shaking. but whole in a new, terrifying, glorious way.

and this invasion? this clarity? this final heartbreak?

it’s the thing that sets me free.

[avatar-legends-confessionblog]

I would like to posit the idea the very canonical idea that Azula was not abused in the same ways and to the same degree as Zuko by Ozai. And that is literally a fact a fact that feels like sometimes we can talk about without cries of misogyny or being accused of trauma comparisons by Azula stans

But I don’t think it’s fair to argue that Azula and Zuko were living under the same conditions zuko just didn’t handle them well. No Zuko was being specifically targeted.

Don’t get me wrong Azula was not born cruel and was very much a victim of Ozai’s abuse and narcissism and this is import at and shouldn’t be but I would argue that it was more the effects of seeing Ozai’s abuse and borderline hatred of Zuko that shaped her more than any direct abuse to herself.

Let me explain. We know that canonically Ozai was emotionally, verbally and physically abusive of Zuko. Maybe he wasn’t beating him up everyday but he burnt half his face after Zuko’s surrender that’s a physically abusive man. He told zuko his sister was born lucky and he was lucky to be born. He was very much ready to kill him on the orders of his father (and seemed to care so little that it was Ursa that had to suggest killing Azulon instead) we can infer that he constantly compared Zuko’s achievements openly to Azula’s and used that to put him down. I would argue that it was very obvious that he wanted any reason to have Zuko gone and he jumped on the first one he saw to banish him to a wild goose chase so he could make Azul crown princess without a political incident. The general he sends, Zhao, almost kills Zuko numerous times with little fear of repercussion (hell he has his ship blown up with a flimsy cover of pirates) and it’s pretty implied he has orders to do with Zuko “what he must”.

Zuko was Ozai’s favorite scapegoat his warning to all others look what I’m willing to do to my own sim my own heir don’t step out of line.

With Azula you can argue that she was neglected just as much as Zuko was because I don’t see him spending much time with either child and she strengthened her fire bending for a chance to spend more time with him. It is no argument that Ozai loved himself and his power more than he ever loved either child and that is especially obvious at the end where he essentially leaves Azula behind with a hollow title. And ofcourse Azula has to contend with a things/attitudes Zuko didn’t just by virtue of growing up a royal girl.

But I would argue that it was witnessing Ozai’s abuse of Zuko and hearing the reason of his “weakness” given that most shaped her which in a way is it’s own kind of abuse and leads to its own kind of trauma. And don’t get me wrong he definetly emotionally manipulated her maybe we never see it on screen but he definitely made it obvious that he thought it was okay to treat Zuko that way because she’s better than him, she’s strong and a winner and aslong as she remains those things she’ll never be like Zuko. Everything she does she does to be antithetical to Zuko to never give their father a reason to be treated like that. She learns cruelty both as a survival skill and as a way to be closer or Ozai because it’s a language he’s fluent in. It’s something that they can share. This “bond” of being the more deserving child but having to play second fiddle to the heir just because they were born second. Hell it’s why in that scene when Ozai is reading to her her work gs and failures and telling her she doesn’t deserve what he deserves she says “you can’t treat me like this, you can’t treat me like Zuko” Zuko is literally the lowest thing she could imagine. Being treated like her father’s scapegoat is everything that she has spent her life avoiding.

It reminds me of a quote from Sex Education from the ex principal about his brother and father. “you learnt to bully me so that our father wouldn’t bully you and that is such a great shame but I am too old for that to be my problem anymore” I feel like encapsulates their canon relationship so wonderfully.

So like I think to argue that Azula and Zuko were abused in equal parts or in the same way and zuko just “overcame” it while Azula didn’t or Azula was just tougher where Zuko wasn’t. Is unfair and does a disservice to both of them. Sometimes kids in the same house don’t experience the same things from their parents ask any sibling. Some are more aware of it than others. And just because a parent abuses 1 child doesn’t necessarily mean they directly abuse all their kids, it’s just one of the many ways abuse can be complicated and make it hard to spot the pattern.

Same as I think erasing the very real harm Azula caused to Zuko (she bullied him as a child I don’t think she ever physically hurt him but she went out of her way to cause psychological torment to him, e.g rejoicing to his face that Ozai was planning on killing him, and that’s not okay and goes far beyond normal sibling rivalry/banter) takes away from what could be her Arc/redemption as well.

X

[lexisbethrothed]

HELTER SKELTER

The movie that epitomizes "women can be shit too, when given the chance"

I was watching so much of Final Girl Studios fil essays that I decided to watch a film recommendation from one of her videos.

To make it exciting, I watched it with my closest friends, blind to its content.

And by God, it was an EXPERIENCE.

First off, someone please put a warning on this film for the amount of sex scenes it was gonna have. Luckily, one of my friends were very open minded wuth these kinds of scenes, which is why we remained close friends. The rest were VISIBLY SHOCKED, WITH ME. I was flustered how pornesque the scenes went. As a result, we skipped a good amount of scenes.

Second, this is a great girl's night movie, where you can talk over it. The scenes are visually stimulating, and also pretty long with not much going on. The themes of "beauty is pain" too, is a great conversation starter.

Third, the fall of the main character and that NO ONE rooted for her was something I wanted depicted in media. I am all for feminism but I truly wanted misandry and misogyny gone from the direction of the picture and rather ingrained into a character, to create complexity and agency for them. I want equality in all depictions, including how anyone, regardless gender and their past, can be shitty and complicated. This was just the breath of fresh air. It was not this woman character OBVIOUSLY exploited for her sadness and insanity, it was about a person obessessed with her image and exploits herself, then goes insane when she is replaced.

The actual review now

Characters:

The main character, Lilico, is truly a very shitty complicated person, and so are the other characters in the story. The characters feel real, even when so many of the visuals are so campy. The character that I was disappointed with a lot because I thought she would break free from Lilico's grasp was her manager/assistant , Hada. She was manipulated by Lilico so much, r*ped by Lilico, and verbally and emotionally and PHYSICALLY abused by her . She was the one to leak the information about her plastic surgery and yet..the ending is that Hada wanted Lilico to need her. It is so fucked up.

I guess my favorite scene was when Hada was tasked by Lilico to cut Kozue's face, the younger natural beauty who replaced Lilico. Like Lilico, she was very much aware that her beauty is market value, the difference is that Kozue is unbothered by her own beauty and incredibly apathetic. Kozue gets confronted by Hada, as Hada shakes in nervousness, Kozue remains calm and apathetically tells Hada to get it over it, that she knows that she is replaceable.

She did not care about her so-called assets and is visibly bored with the world.

My opinions:

Lilico had misogynistic and misandrist views, she knew about her "market value": her superficial beauty that people obsess over. She is easily triggered by other women's fame and beauty, believing they are out to eliminate her. She throws fits of anger and treats everyone as helpers, subject to that abuse is Hada. She hated men and women, and only thought about herself. Extremely narcissistic and prone to severe bipolar tendencies, e.g super angry to super depressed.

I will say, that if Lilico was a male model, it would play out just as it was with Lilico's story. Again, keep in mind, if LILICO was a male model. Lilico is untalented and looked like a weird doll, and believed her time as that young sexy doll would not last long, therefore continously does reckless things to satisfy her unrational needs and wants. I would argue that in the same setting, such as the place and the society of Japan and their glamorized views of youth, a male model is no exception to that kind of explotation. An example is Björn Andresen, the model that set the standard of the beautiful blonde boy image we see in Japanese media. His looks were exploited to the degree of which he can barely recover.

Exploitation centring young beautiful people delves into the obsession of youth, many of which percieves as the highest form of prime in terms of age, especially women. Youth is perceived as beauty. Interestingly, when I read the manga of Helter Skelter, Asada, the detective investigating the deaths of young women's visceral suicides and their connection to a plastic surgery clinic, quotes this: " Youth is beautiful, but youth is not beauty. Beauty is more all-encomposing."

Overall, Helter Skelter provides a social commentary on the sewed in superficial views society has on beauty and youth, particularly on women. Themes of obessesion, self awareness, and apathetical acceptance are present. Depictions of narcissism as well as sexual assault are layed down clearly, all the while shows some complexity on behavior.

Campy and disturbing, GALORE.

[leejenowrld]

hi bb omg part 2 was like roller coaster…I WAS crying and laughing and getting hornet oh my days 😭

sungjun death actually made me cry…the way you wrote a new character bur still made me feel emotionally connected to him…youre actually a legend

baby fever is actually so real because it hit me SO HARD when sunshine defended intern and called jaemin rude (I had a good laugh) and her calling intern mama just melt my heart so, so much. child love is so innocent. the fact that sunshine listed doen the things intern did for her when intern asked for the reason why she doesn’t call her auntie like everyone else. my heart clench omg sunshine is so delicate i just want her to recover already.

I absolutely love the small recap we get for the bty characters!! it actually gave me dejavu, reminded me on how much I miss them. but karina asking intern about her crush on jaemin just made me laughed out loud. somethings i forget hiw straightforward she can be. and karina asking intern to grab the opportunity to have sec with jaemin when the time comes? i’m supportive of that.

but my poor sunshine… I really hope her illness can disspear, broke me when I see her in pain. but that kind of connected jaem and intern??? sunshine is really trying to make intern her mama.

and omg i BLINKED and suddenly they have sex??? 🤯 sohpie, please, I beg you to release more scenes of them smuggling around to save haeun. I need to see how they contain themselves in a small space. what was running through their heads when they were so close to one another? i nees more of their one on one small moments.

not sure if you have seen the freaky ranking i sent u, but i stand by my rank. ngl jaemin feels like the predator. waiting for the prey (my dear intern) to lose control, what a crazy manipulator. but not complaining i love power play dynamic. also…when intern said she’s a virgin I actually thought jaemin will contain himself a bit more. WRONG, very wrong of me. should have known a touch starve man better. homie unleashed his inner monster and went all out in his office.

but omg all of this came to an end after the emergency. ik haeun will survive afterall but it hurts my heart to see her suffer…

-🎀

bb i am screaming at this ask you have no idea — this was so fun to read, i felt every up and down with you!! you caught everything — from the pure heartbreak of sangjun (i was literally mourning a baby who didn’t even have two scenes, i’m unwell), to the absolute chaos of sunshine standing up for her “mama” (i laughed writing that part too, jaemin fully getting checked by a toddler). and the way you noticed how sunshine lists out all the soft, invisible things intern does for her… that is the entire heart of this story, i wanted her love for intern to be something felt, not just said. sunshine is so delicate and precious it makes me ache — i want to give her everything.

i love that the little bty cameos still make you happy — you have no idea how much i miss writing for that cast too, so any excuse to sneak them in is a win. and karina being so blunt about intern’s crush and “if you get the chance, jump his bones” energy?? queen behaviour. honestly, that whole besties dynamic was just so fun to write.

and you totally get it — sunshine’s illness is such a knife but it does bring jaemin and intern together, they’re drawn to each other by the way they love her, both so helpless and so fierce. sunshine choosing intern as her mama is her own tiny rebellion and i adore her for it.

now let’s talk about the sex, because girl, jaemin is literally deranged for her, there’s just no other word. i love how you clocked the power dynamic — him as the patient, hungry predator, intern as the shaking, wide-eyed girl who wants everything but has no idea how to ask for it. you’d think he’d slow down after the virgin confession? never. i said let him be feral!!! you know this is the freakiest pairing i’ve written. also i need you to know the next chapter is basically all about that aftermath, the tension, the one-on-one moments you’re begging for… and yes, more small spaces, more breathless almosts, more hands too desperate to behave.

i’m really sorry to say this, but there’s no guarantee that sunshine will survive — and i know that’s a brutal, aching thought to sit with. this is a story that isn’t afraid to be honest about the weight of life, how fragile it can be, how sometimes even the fiercest love and the best medicine can’t promise a happy ending. i want you to feel all the hope and terror that comes with loving someone so much it hurts, to sit with that uncertainty just like jaemin and y/n and every person who’s come to adore sunshine. it’s not about cruelty or making you suffer for no reason; it’s about honoring how precious every moment is, how hard everyone is fighting, and how sometimes you can only love harder in the face of what you can’t control. just know that every line i write is full of hope for her, but i can’t promise an ending — and i hope you’ll stay with me, whatever happens.

i literally live for your freaky rankings, pls always send me more, i’m dying laughing at “predator” — jaemin really is, and intern is so so ripe for corruption. thank you so much for seeing every detail, for loving the chaos and the softness, for laughing and crying and getting horny with me. your asks are the best, never stop. love you endlessly 🎀

side note my love, in the future if i can kindly ask for you to only do one space between the paras as i think my phone has a glitch where it won’t allow my to answer the asks on my phone due to the double spacing, i think it’s that, and i’ve mainly had these issues with your asks, it’s not an issue and i never want you to stop sending me your asks and your love bb but it might help me a lot when answering cos it means i don’t need to get my laptop out 😭😭 thank you love 🫶

[spushii]

LITERALLY SO GLAD THAT THE FEELING INSANE OVER THIS SERIES IS MUTUAL FR ITS BEEN ABSOLUTELY TEARING ME APART id love to hear your thoughts!!!! *_* I have been itching to read more posts about it but also trying to avoid spoilers rbdbdbjf

I just started nona yesterday, I finished harrow few days ago but god that one fucked with me good I needed a bit to just let everything that happened sink in. like ITS SO GOOD it’s so much darker than the first book and I still don’t have the words to express how much I genuinely enjoyed the second one it’s literally so fucking great. I was almost tempted to reread harrow after I finished it but I wanted to read all three before any rereads lol but the attachment I have to these characters is insane I just fucking cling to them so badly I am so unwell. love gideon, my best friend gideon I miss her sm…

SQUEEEEEEEEEE IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKED HARROW!!! its such a phenomenal book its so. um. Harrowing. lol. im going to have a really hard time articulating just all of the Shit That I Think About with this book series because there really really is so much.

getting right into the meat of my thoughts i guess. i really love how Gideon's bit with Ianthe at the end of HtN recontextualizes the bit of the pool scene where Harrow talks about the first time she saw The Body. where it really does feel like in that moment Gideon simultaneously realized that she was in love with Harrowhark and that Harrow would never feel the same. And i think it allows you to glean some of the genuinely a little bit selfish motivation behind Gideon's suicide. There were a lot of things that motivated Gideon to kill herself so Harrow and Camilla could live, but i think a significant portion of it was her not wanting to live a life indebted to Harrow in a way she would never be content with (Connecting mostly to Harrow asking her to return to the ninth house and care for it ((and by extension, The Body)) in her stead, in the event of her death), which is to say in the grand scheme of things, the choice between Living for Harrow and Dying for Harrow was a very easy one to make for Gideon Nav.

I dont have as much analysis for this but god i think all the fucking time. About Gideon the First attacking Harrow in the bathroom. and the subsequent Everything. It's just so fucking. Bleak. Reading it is physically exhausting. It's so. oh my god. I don't even know what to say. Fucking "Harrow, do something normal." I'm Going To Kill Myself. Im Going To Kill John Gaius. The fact that she KILLS him and it doesnt even KEEP. THE FUCKING. THIS. HARROWWWWW

HARROWHARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL IN MY LIFE AFTER IVE READ THIS

I do love John. as much as i hate him i love him as well. He's such a fucking coward. such a worthless piece of shit. such a suffocatingly interesting character. I love when Harrow tries to ask him about Alecto and he goes on about fucking "You'd make a hell of a daughter, Harrowhark. I sometimes indulge in the wish that you'd been mine." LITERALLY FUCKING WHAT. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOTU WHERE AM I.what if you had a crush on a girl but you had an even bigger crush on her dad's dead ex-girlfriend and then her dad told you that he wished you were his daughter. i feel so fucking abnormal

EDITING THIS POST BECAUSE I FORGOT I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT WAKE. WHAT THE FUCK RIGHT???????????????? god i think forever about how much Gideon Nav loved her mother. how much she clung to the belief that she was loved. Has Gideon Nav ever been knowingly loved by anyone, in her life? Maybe Aiglemene loved her, in a way. But Gideon wouldn't have known that until it was far too late to treasure it. Harrow certainly loves her, but Gideon can't believe that. Not with The Body in the way. Not with Harrow, to Gideon, seeming so disgusted with her final act of devotion that she destroyed her own mind to be rid of the knowledge of it. Magnus treated her kindly, but kind is a far cry from love. But she loved her mother. Held the belief so desperately-yet-gently close to her chest, that her mother loved her too. Loved her enough to come crashing and burning through the Ninth planet's atmosphere and dying herself on the way down. Loved her enough to protect her life at the expense of her own. Imagine, then, for Gideon to learn that she was a tool. A key. Her destiny in life was to die within the first days of her birth; a blood sacrifice, as her mother willed it. Her mother hadn't brought her to the Ninth House in an attempt to save her, she'd brought her there on her way to kill her. Its So. God. Fuck this fucking book. Has Gideon ever been loved? Every truly been loved by anyone in this world? If she has, she doesn't know it.

[nayeoniiz]

He's Yours, But Am I?

pairings ❥ jake x fem!reader

point of view ❥ 3rd person

warnings ❥ mentions of sex, body issues, dieting, signs of pregnancy, abandonment, slight verbal abuse, manipulation, unprotected sex, post partum mental illness

word count ❥ 20.6k

genre ❥ angst, smut

synopsis ❥ falling in love with your friends with benefits is a difficult burden to carry. ditching protection to feel closer to each other was fun until you missed your period, so what happens when your pregnancy test results come back positive? to you, it had been a dream come true; you knew you had to break the news to him eventually, and maybe you could finally confess your feelings to him. when you do finally tell him the news he tells you he isn't ready to be a father, requesting you to stop seeing each other. falling in love with your friends with benefits is a difficult burden to carry, but it in no way compares to being in love with your friends with benefits and having his child to carry.

note: i apologize for the absence. i was so emotionally invested in writing this story, so i just kinda lacked the motivation to wrote anything else. can't promise all of your previous requests will be fulfilled, but i'll do my best! please like, reblog, and interact as much as possible! it will help me get motivation to finish more stories and grant more requests. i'm super proud of this work, i think i'll do 3rd person from now on. i hope you all enjoy, let me know how you all like it!

"do you think i'm getting fat?" y/n asks her friend, chaewon, as she pinches her stomach, the almost unnoticeable weight gain making her frown at herself while she stood sideways in the mirror. chaewon frowns as she watched from the bed, she noticed y/n had been losing her glow ever since july ended, but she attributed it to their sophomore year in college that would be starting up again in weeks' time. y/n always lost her glow whenever school started back up.

"a little," chaewon replied honestly. "but that's normal! we've been eating well these days; it could just be a bloat, you know?" y/n thought about it for a second and nodded. that may have been the reason she's also been nauseous lately, too, having eaten more than her body could handle in the name of enjoying her summer break more. chaewon takes note of y/n's thoughtful silence, adding onto her statement, "we can always go to my pilates and yoga classes to change it back to normal if you want..?"

"maybe, i'm gonna wait a few days to see if it'll go down on its own first," y/n sighed, giving her reflection one last glance as she unfolded and pulled her oversized shirt down again, meeting chaewon on the bed with a jump and loud thud as she stared at the ceiling. chaewon only stared forward, continuing to watch tv as they stayed in a comfortable silence.

"you talk to hyunjin lately?" y/n asks chaewon, breaking the silence. chaewon only shrugs her shoulders in response.

"eh. how about you and jake?"

"we've been seeing each other in person more, and he's becoming more of a caller than a texter these days," she explains to which chaewon only responds with a hum of understanding.

"hyunjin and i are the kind who don't need to talk to each other everyday for our bond to be as strong as it is. when we're together, it's like he never left," the smile on chaewon's face awakens something in y/n: lovesickness. she pouts, but it's more of a pout of envy than jealousy, because she could never be jealous of her best friend.

"i wish i could relate," she groaned, turning to lay on her stomach as she receives a facetime call from jake. picking up the phone, she fights back a smile by biting the inside of her cheek. "hey, you!" her excitement comes out awkwardly, like a teenage girl trying to talk to her crush despite her heart and brain not cooperating normally like it had only seconds before.

"hey, y/n," he laughed, still not quite used to her shy demeanor on the phone. "you up to chill?" he asks, making y/n almost scream out a yes to him. but she couldn't, obviously. chaewon was over and she didn't want to kick her friend out just to hang out with a boy, especially knowing chaewon wouldn't do that to her.

"i would but my friend chae is hereㅡ"

"it's fine!" chaewon interrupts the girl, her head appearing behind y/n's in the tiny box as she waved to jake who responded with a nod. "i was just getting ready to head out soon," she walks closer, giving y/n a kiss on the cheek as y/n lowers the camera for privacy. "mwah. bye, i love you. let me know if the bloating goes down so i know whether to register you as my plus one for my next session."

"okay, okay. i love you too," y/n responds, chaewon leaving soon after. y/n finally moves her attention back to jake who was clearly eavesdropping the entire time with a cheeky smile on his face.

"bloating for what? are you on your period?" he asks, making her groan annoyed by his nosiness. "hey c'mon it's a natural thing, you can talk about it with me. plus, you know a period don't stop nothing but a sentence," he winks only making the girl groan more.

"you're gross," she gagged dramatically, making the boy burst out into a fit of laughter. "there's no way i'm having sex with you on my period," she added on, but he only laughed harder.

"why not? c'mon don't knock it till you try it! let's try it out today," he persists making her pout her lips as she thought about it. it could just be another thing she could cross off of her list of irrelevant things she did pertaining to sex.

"maybe, but i won't be getting my period for another week since i didn't come on it this week like the app said i would," she says, shrugging her shoulders. "huh. you didn't peg me to be the kind of guy who's into that stuff."

"oh, i'm not. but i think i'll be into anything that involves you, y/n."

"ugh, don't directly address me when you say things like that, you know how it gets me!"

"maybe i want you to get like that. how sexy is phone sex?"

"doesn't sound any better than real sex."

"maybe to you, i'm getting hard just listening to your voice."

"oh my god. goodnight, jake," y/n's eyes widened as she hung up, a small smile painting her lips.

waking up the next morning, and after immediately looking in the mirror, the bloating did not go down. a disappointed sigh left y/n's lips as she threw one of jake's sweatshirts over her tank top to cover the 'obvious' difference in her appearance as she made her way to campus, already dreading the day.

upon arrival, she met chaewon in their usual spots for their lecture, seeing the girl with coffee for the both of them. offering her friend a thankful smile, she took a sip of the coffee, eager for its bittersweetness to wake her up as it usually did. but her sip was quickly, and secretly spit back into the cup as an indescribable amount of disgust flooded her taste buds.

"jesus, who pissed in this coffee? it's disgusting," the girl asked, making her friend's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. she'd known y/n's order by heart; it's been prepared by the same worker for months. y/n's never been dissatisfied with the taste of the coffee before.

"he's prepared it the same way he does every morning, so i'm confused," chaewon says, watching y/n try to give the coffee another chance by taking a longer sip, immediately gagging as she lets it drip back down into the cup again. now even the smell of it was unbearable. she pushes the coffee away all together.

"well it's shitty today, let's just get some more later," she responded, both girls shrugging it off as they listened to their professor's talking once again. y/n was tempted several times after the fact to drink the coffee, but she was too sickened by its taste and smell. she eventually got up and threw the whole cup away all together, hating the way her body was responding to it.

when lunch rolled around, it was safe to say they both had forgotten about the morning's coffee incident, and y/n was already more than excited to eat the lunch she had yet to order. though the summer sun hadn't gone yet, the heat was certainly making its way out. temperatures outside were fine, so the walk from their hall to the building holding the university's lunchroom went smoothly, however the air conditioning had murderous intent when they entered the building.

"god i hate this building," chaewon groans as she zips her jacket up, which worked to no avail as the fabric was nowhere near thick. y/n nodded in agreement as they both subconsciously agreed they'd eat quickly so they could just leave. getting into different lines, y/n walked over to the soup station, getting her favorite vegetable soup that always made the freezing AC temperatures more bearable. she fixes a smaller bowl than she usually would, already beginning her dieting journey to lose the weight she'd gained.

once she added her side dishes, she met chaewon at the table with the most sunlight shining through the big, wide open windows, eager to get the warmth that this building insisted heavily on denying.

"we should've just ordered takeout instead," y/n grumbled, sipping a spoonful of her soup juice as she closed her eyes, the steam from her soup fanning her face as a "thank you for choosing to eat me today." savoring the soup, as she usually did, she immediately cringed at the horrible taste that flooded her mouth. "my god, why is everything so shitty today? first the coffee, now this?" it was clear that her mood was plummeting from her sudden disdain towards the food she loved most. she pushed her tray away, saddened, making chaewon sigh with pity.

"do you just want some of my lasagna?" she knew y/n wouldn't want it, but she couldn't stand to see her best friend so upset about not being able to eat. it was a dumb question, because it was something y/n hated the most, but y/n nodded, pushing her tray over to the girl. chaewon is confused but gives her a reasonable amount to eat, not too much as it would go to waste if she didn't eat it, but not too little as to have her request for more in the event that it wasn't enough.

reluctantly, she takes her fork and digs into the lasagna, hating everything about it, but the smell seemed a lot more inviting that what it had been only months before, the time frame she first decided she hated the entree. taking a hesitant bite into it, her eyes shot wide open as she began chewing. it was delicious. and she didn't know why. she opted to eat more of it, quickly downing the food as she looked at chaewon, begging for more to which, of course, the girl obliged. she wasn't that hungry anyways.

days had gone by since y/n had found a new love for lasagna, she even branched out the different flavors they offered, becoming obsessed with the spinach-alfredo lasagna. they were two combinations she knew she'd usually hate being put together, but she couldn't stop eating them. and though chaewon never said it aloud, she was confused. so confused. especially confused when y/n had suddenly started gagging, on the verge of vomiting only minutes after she'd eaten so deliciously. but, she rushed to the bathroom with her friend, ready to assist her nonetheless.

it's was a sad thing for her, watching her friend look so sick and helpless over the toilet while her body kept forcing her food up, not even stopping after the fact that her stomach emptied, telling her she still needed to throw more up. when she finished, her whole body was shaking, and she was on the verge of tears from the burning she felt in her throat.

she insisted she was fine, her solution being to eat again to make up for the food lost, but after having several incidents of vomiting to the point of tears, all of them with chaewon being her personal witness, she couldn't quite convince the girl anything anymore, reluctantly having to agree to seeing the doctor and get to the bottom of it. but they weren't ready for any of the questions that the doctor would ask the poor, and naive, y/n.

"have you been sexually active in the last few months, miss l/n? more importantly, without protection?" doctor kim asks, taking both y/n and chaewon by surprise. she looks over to her friend, feeling uncomfortable by the question, but chaewon only gives her a sympathetic smile as she encourages her to answer the doctor.

"yes.. but i don't see why that matters?" y/n replies, essentially dismissing the doctor's question. there was no correlation between the two, she was just feeling a little under the weather. or maybe it was a result of her semi-depression from her weight gain? there were so many possibilities. "we think i may have a stomach bug," she adds on, making the doctor click his teeth in response. he sighs, adjusting his glasses as he looked past her, not wanting to cause conflict, but still needing to do his job.

"well, miss l/n, i'm not suggesting anything big, but since you have had unprotected sex, your symptoms are seeming to lean a lot toward-"

"i'm sorry ,doctor kim, but i don't need suggestions. i'm paying you to use your damn degree and use facts to get to the bottom of this, not suggest my symptoms have anything to do with the sex i have in my life," y/n spits out, grabbing chaewon's hand to lead her out the door.

"you go, i'll be a quick second," chaewon smiles at the agitated girl who only nodded as she stormed her way to the car. letting out the breath she'd been holding, she bowed apologetically to the doctor. "i'm sorry, doc. she's been really moody since she gained weight. she's usually the sweetest girl!"

"i see," he responds. "she may not be willing to right now, but i recommend coming back soon and getting an ultrasound to see if my thoughts may be correct," he says, getting ready to head out the room, since he no longer needed to be there, having other patients to tend to.

he'd already been long gone by then, but chaewon still responded to him. it was more for herself anyways. "i'll think about it."

looking in the mirror every morning became a habit for y/n. she absolutely hated the way she looked. she felt like she was in a body that wasn't her own, her mental health only worsening with each day she decides to stare in the mirror. she was lonely. she'd been skipping classes, telling chaewon she was just too lazy to go to, but doing that meant chaewon wouldn't be there to support her rapidly growing illness. and she couldn't just call jake, either. they argued too much and they both hated it, deciding that no contact was better than enduring the toxicity any longer.

but today, she couldn't endure not speaking to him any longer. she'd grown far more dependent on him, realizing her days of misery could only be made better by him. so, even though she knew that calling him most likely wouldn't end well, she hit the facetime button, watching with anticipation as she waited for him to pick up.

"y/n," his sigh of happiness only brought a smile to her face, and for a second everything felt better, even her stuffed nose seemed to clear for a second. her eyes watered, but she quickly blinked the forming tears away because no y/n you will NOT cry. "i missed you," he says, making her heart flutter as he frowned through the screen.

"i'm sorry," was all she could say, lumps forming in her throat. why did this have to make her so emotional? she'd never cried over something as simple as this before, it wasn't rare for jake to express his feelings for her in this way, but for whatever reason she decided that hearing all of this now meant and felt more than anything. "i missed you, too."

"how have you been?" he asks, making her lips form a thin line. she never did tell him of her illness, being scared that he'd stop coming over in fear of catching her symptoms.

"i've been bored, there's never anything to do these days, and i'm too lazy to go out."

"hm. then how about i come over and give you something to do?" his question was laced with suggestiveness, making her feel an uneasy amount of insecurity. she really wanted to have him come over, more than anything, but it just couldn't happen. not when she felt like this. and not when she looked like this either.

"i don't know, i'm pretty tired right now, too," she laughs nervously, making him sigh.

"please, y/n. it doesn't even have to be sex. i just want to be with you. i miss you," while it didn't seem like much to him to admit it, it meant the world to y/n. she felt like he really wanted her. and in a way, he did, so of course, she let her heart fall right into his arms. even though her doubts and insecurities begged her to say no, she refused to listen this time.

"okay," her heart was beating fast, unsureness running through her veins, but all of it was worth it. any ill feeling would be worth it if it meant she'd get to see his smileㅡ a smile that only existed because of her.

"say less," he giggled, hanging up the phone. she let out the breath she was holding, her senses awakening as she realized all of what she just agreed to. she looked at her outfit, too revealing for the way she was looking right now. "shorts are fine, but i need a bigger shirt," she spoke to no one but herself as she went to her closet to put on an oversized hoodie in hopes he wouldn't be able to see how "ugly" she'd become.

it didn't take long for him to arrive, engulfing her in his arms as soon as she opened the door. it was times like this that made her wonder, why would she even want to fight with him to begin with? she's head over heels in love with him; arguing with him only took away these moments from her. she couldn't stand it.

"pretty girl, you've lost your glow," he says after they pull away from their drawn out hug, grabbing her face, moving it around in his eyesight as he frowned. her eyes were accompanied with dark eye bags, her cheeks were puffy, and her skin seemed to have paled quite a bit since he'd last been over. she could only smile bitterly, that's what no sleep does to you, she thinks.

"it's because you haven't been here to shine on me," she laughed, taking his hand to walk to her bedroom where they both sat on her bed. he laughs along, happy upon the realization that they most likely wouldn't get into an argument since the majority of their arguments happened digitally.

"well we're together now, so that's all that matters," he says, making her smile. she nods, taking a second to look at him while he turns his attention to the tv, already browsing through netflix to put on a show or movie he thought they'd be able to enjoy. she didn't realize how fond she'd grown of him until now, but maybe she just forgets about it until moments like this come up for her to acknowledge them once again.

the universe was unfair to her, in more ways than one, but giving her this special relationship with jake made all of the hardships disappear. she liked jake. and even though she knew he didn't feel the same way, she liked that his actions made her feel like he did. and they shared a lot of intimate moments, so even if she didn't necessarily have the real label she wanted, there was nothing that could stop her from pretending.

maybe that's the thought that kept her going, allowing him to make himself at home in her heart more and more with each passing moment they shared. maybe that's what made her stop looking at other men the way she looked at him. maybe that's what accidentally brought her lips onto his, cupping his cheeks as her eyes closed in relief when he kissed her back. it was always heavenly to kiss jake, but this time it felt better than that. he kept her slow speed, not bothering to pull her on his lap, yet, as he was determined to savor this moment in fear of it never happening again. he moves his hand up to her cheek as she let hers fall down to her side, smiling into the kiss as he stroked her cheek lovingly.

it felt like an eternity, them staying like that. but, jake was never patient when it came to these things. and it wasn't far from how y/n was either, so naturally he attempted to escalate it, his body already anticipating how good they were going to make each other feel. but as soon as he attempted to slide his tongue in, y/n panicked, squeezing her eyes shut as she pulled away, face hot with embarrassment as she saw the confusion the boy had on his face.

"is everything okay?" he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder gently so as to not startle the girl more than he already seemed to. she averted eye contact, but nodded nonetheless. "did i do something wrong? did i make you uncomfortable-?" he asked further, thoughts spinning around his head as to why she'd pull back.

"no i'm sorry," cutting him off, her voice was low as she didn't really want him to hear her confessionㅡ afraid it would spiral into another argument given her contradicting actions. "i just.. dont want to have sex," all the thoughts and reasons he'd listed before flew out the window, his mind going quiet as did he.

"you're seeing someone else. is that it?"

"wha- no, jake! i just-"

"there's nothing else it could be," he says, making her frown. jake had been suspecting this for a while. he'd never had any problems with her whenever they called or facetimed, or even texted before. but for the past few weeks, that's all that's been happening. he'd somehow say the 'wrong' thing and she'd blow off on him, it would spiral into something worse, then they would just stop talking until one of them texts again. the last time he'd gone through that, his fling ended up leaving him and moving onto a serious relationship, something they swore they would never be able to doㅡ well, clearly not with him at least.

"jake, i swear it's not like that!" y/n's heart was beating out of her chest, she could feel his sadness even though everything he said was monotone. he was hurting over something that she wasn't even doing. and the way he already seemed so sure of it? it made her wonder how long he'd been feeling this way.

"then why do you keep leading me on and then backing out when you're the one who initiated it? are you seeing someone else, y/n?" his eyes were starting to gloss over, and she hated it. so, so much. she didn't know what to do. admitting the truth would only make him leave. her silence only further proved the point he convinced himself that he was making. adding fuel to the fire- "do i only tempt you enough to try but not go through with it? am i SO bad at fucking you that you have to go find someone else to do bette-"

"i'm not thin anymore, okay?!" she finally had the courage to cut him off, tears streaming down her face that had become hot from her frustrations caused by his baseless, but very, very hurtful accusations.

"what?"

"i've gotten fat. and-," she sighed, trying to regain her composure. "i want so badly to have sex with you, but i'm scared. i'm scared that i'll take off these baggy clothes and- you'll be disgusted by my body and leave me. i would never be so evil as to go out of my way to cheat and hurt you. this is only happening because i hate myself and my body for what it's becoming. i can't let you see me be like this."

"baby..." his voice is soft, contradicting the anger it projected only moments before. even though that one word was a great comfort to her, it only worsened her rainfall of tears as she allowed herself to break down in his arms. it was something he'd never understand. she was beautiful in his eyes, nothing would change that. "i don't care if you gain weight, or lose weight. hell, you could wake up bald and i would still find you to be the sexiest girl alive. don't you ever think otherwise."

she nodded, pulling away to look him in the eyes, her pout failing to disappear despite the fact that she was starting to feel a little bit better about it. he smiled at her bringing his lips to her forehead for a kiss, then to each individual cheeks, then finally to her lips in a kiss that was sweeter than the one shared beforeㅡ only she would let it escalate this time.

pulling back, she looked him lovingly in the eyes. they were shining the same way hers were as he pulled her back in for a hard, but not too hard, peck on the lips, more following after them as he wanted to bask in all the moment had to offer. her giggle only made him smile as he pecked her lips one last time before he went to shower each cheek with kisses as well. once he felt he'd spread the love there enough, he tilted her head to the side, trailing kisses over her neck, not any lower as his sweatshirt was in the way. moving back up, he kissed her ear before he whispered a low "take this off," while tugging on the sweatshirt that had now become a barrier between the two of them.

obeying his request, she lifted the fabric off, throwing it across the room as her body shivered from the temperature change on her bare arms. he laughed, latching his mouth back onto her neck, this time carefully sucking, leaving his own marks of love behind for her to be able to look back to if she were to question his love for her again. tugging the bottom of her shirt as she assisted him in lifting it off her head, the shirt being carelessly thrown somewhere across the room like the jacket.

he changed his position, kneeling with either knee on her side as he pushed her slightly to lay her down on the bed. he stared down at her body, scanning the beauty she was. it was then that she realized she had nothing to cover her top half, her stomach was on display for him to see and, despite his comforting words, she became embarrassed. not wanting to make it obvious that she was feeling insecure, she pulled him down to connect their lips together. letting their tongues dance with one another, he lets his hands travel down her sides, moving to spread her legs for him to grind his crotch against her, the sensations leaving them both gasping at how much they'd been neglecting their sexual needs with their petty arguments.

"fuck," she moaned into his mouth which only drove him crazy. god, words couldn't explain how much he loved those sounds she made. he pulled away, going to take off his shirt while she nearly drooled at the sight of it. everything about that man was perfect to her.

"fuck, y/n," he breathed out as he kept rolling his hips against hers, biting his lip to hold back the lewd sounds his body begged him to make. "how am i supposed to go slow when you're this sexy without trying?" his words made her tear up as she covered her face which was now hot with her shyness. the sight of it made his hips stutter, of course only she could bring him that close to climax without doing anything but being her.

he moved away from her, the warmth they shared being the first thing they missed as he pulled her shorts down, throwing it across the room as she leaned forward to pull his sweatpants down enough for him to scoot out of on his own. his cock sprung up, hitting his lower abdomen as she stared at it in all its glory: fully erect, reddened tip glistening with precum. just how she liked it. they both giggled at the fact that they both were intentionally not wearing underwear. "wanted to fuck me that bad, huh?" he smirked, leaning down to connect their lips in a kiss which she smiled in. when he pulled away she smirked back at him.

"i could say the same, baby."

he sucked in a breath, halfway opening his eyes as he began lightly stroking himself, making sure to make eye contact with her. "ah- y/n, you don't know what you do to me," he whimpered as she could only watch him with doe eyes. before he could get too comfortable stroking himself, and before she could get too comfortable watching the show, he rubbed his tip through her folds, then circled her clit (just to make her feel good) before he slowly inserted himself in.

she winced at the stretch, it really had been a while since they last had sex. he bit his lip as he pushed all the way in, unmoving. he moved his hand down, using his thumb to rub on her clit which resulted in her clenching around him. he slightly threw his head back, sighing in content at the feeling. "that's right. keep doing that," he says as he pulls out nearly all the way, only to slam himself back in completely before he decided on a pace. everything about their togetherness was just right. they knew exactly how to make each other feel good. that's what lovemaking to them was. they didn't need to be slow paced or have foreplay or perform oral before they fucked; the love showed in the way they could absorb every essence of each other's being. the way their energies combined and turned them into one.

his pace wasn't too slow, nor was it too fast. it was just enough for her to feel all of him, and it was enough to hit all the right spots, wherever she needed him most. the room was silent except for the small sounds of pleasure they both made, accompanied with the sex sounds their bodies created. he leaned forward, connecting their lips in a sweet kiss, cause everyone knows he couldn't get enough of kissing her. she returned the kiss, tears prickling in her eyes from how good everything was feeling. she loved this. she loved him. "i'm close, baby," he pulled back to announce, speeding his strokes up ever so slightly as he chased his high.

"me too," she announced, this time clenching around him more while her heartbeat only raced, each thrust bringing her closer. he rubbed circles around her clit faster as her moans started becoming more vocal, the pitch raising with each thrust until one thrust finally hit the spot. "ah, jake dont stop," she begged as he sped up to chase his own high. "dont pull out, it's okay! fuck i wanna feel it." he couldn't hold back any longer upon her words, thrusting one last time before he came to a complete stop, filling her with his seed.

"fuck," he breathed out, slowly lowering himself to be on top of her. he scooted so that she could be able to lay her head on his. it wasn't often that jake would stay cuddled up to her after they finished having sex, but he felt like he owed it to her for how shitty he had made her feel without knowing the full story. it wasn't often that he whispered sweet little nothings into her ear while stroking her hair, but tonight (despite their strict forbidden rule of affection) it felt needed. and he was willing to give her anything he felt like she needed. every action and choice he decided to make only further showed that he loved her, in a way.

even though he was sure he wasn't capable of feeling it anymore, this special relationship jake shared with her made all of his doubts about love disappear. he liked y/n. and even though it was something he'd never be able to express or accept it, he'd let his emotions be shown in the moment as they were. and, like most of everything that they did that didn't make sense, it always seemed to work out.

the sun shining through the blinds, accompanied with the unforgiving air conditioning that froze her skin, y/n yawned as she got up, rubbing her eyes. pulling the blanket up to cover her body, she looked next to her for jake, but he wasn't there. she knew that regardless of how affectionate he was last night that there'd be a chance he would still leave during the night, but it hurts to know that no matter what he'd say or do, he'd still be gone in the morning.

her tears start their early morning shift, brimming in her eyes as she pouted at the whole idea of him leaving her altogether. the tears turning into a rainfall of agony as she sobbed to her heart's content, only to be interrupted by her overwhelming need to puke. running to the bathroom she can't make it to the toilet, having to quickly choose between the floor or the sink, her brain choosing the latter of the two.

holding the edge of the sink, her head was bent over so as to not make too much of a mess. she let her first round of puke come up, feeling disgusted with herself for not being quicker. one she was finished she barely had time to recover as she took the chance to run to the toilet, finally being able to vomit there as she originally intended. it hurt and tasted like hell after she was finished, but that of course wouldn't be the end of her misfortune. upon hearing her alarm go off, she realized that she only had 15 minutes to get ready.

snoozing the alarm she immediately dialed chaewon's phone, screaming incoherent words as a weak attempt to ask for help. chaewon's eyes widened as her car's speaker blasted y/n's crying into her ears. "woah, woah, woah!" chaewon said, cutting the girl's screaming off. "talk in a way where i can understand you."

"i keep- i can't stop throwing up, i'm scared i wont be able to make it to school!" she cries out. "please chaewon, i know i ask for a lot but i need you right now," she begs the girl who was only two or three turns away from the university building. as the red light finally turned green, she sighed, making a turn that led her back on the path from where she'd originally traveled to come to school.

"i'm on my way," she lets y/n know, making her way to the nearest drugstore to make a quick purchase. y/n sighs of relief, her tear stained cheeks lifting slightly as she smiled at her friend's support through her hardships.

"thank you, chae," she says, holding onto her now empty and hurting stomach. "i'll make it up to you."

"you don't have to make anything up to me y/n. you need my help, so i'm giving it to you. just please take care of yourself until i get there, i have to make a quick stop, okay?" she says as she gets out of the car, her phone call disconnects from the car and back to her phone.

"okay," y/n sniffles as she begins coughing up a storm, gagging as she tried her best to hold down another load of vomit.

"okay, i'll hang up first. bye."

not waiting for a response, she ends the call and walks into the store. after a quick search, she immediately went over to the corner where the items lay bare for everyone to see. she picked up one of the pregnancy tests, ignoring the looks she felt on her. it was nobody's business anyways. when she went over to the register, older customers gave her judging looks, which she only smiled in return at. as soon as she got to the front, she smacked the box down, not bothering to get any other items as it would just add onto her time in the building.

"what are you hoping for?" the young cashier attempts to ask her kindly, but you can tell she was judging her too. if it had actually been chaewon in this situation where she'd need the pregnancy test for herself, she would have been passive back, but it's not her. so she didn't need to be letting it get in her head regardless of how stressful it was to be here.

"a girl," she puts on a fake smile and enthusiastic voice, praying the kid would hurry up and scan the item. once she was done doing that, she put the item in a plastic bag, quickly handing it to her.

"wishing you the best of luck as a mother!" she says to which chaewon could only nod at as she rushed out of the building and back into her car. now, chaewon wasn't the kind of citizen to speed. she knew it wasn't safe for anyone and honestly she hated it because it never felt nice to her body, especially when she was the one behind the wheels. but after the call with y/n, she had to because she knew how much y/n needed her there.

when she had let herself in using the key that y/n gifted her months ago, she ran quickly to see the girl's head hanging carelessly in the toilet as she barely moved. "y/n?" she asks, going over to her. y/n only hummed in response to assure the girl that she was still conscious. she wanted to talk, but everytime she tried to muster up words, that awfully familiar gagging overpowered her. and she didn't want to go through throwing up again, so she gave up, resorting to laying in her misery as there was nothing more she could do.

"gross, y/n," chewon says as she moves over to the sink where it was filled with her vomit, the scent making chaewon gag a little. she turns the sink water on, going under the sink to get some bleach out in hopes of it helping with washing it down. "you couldn't make it to the toilet in enough time?"

"no," y/n cries out, voice hoarse from all of it already as she gags more, another load of vomit forcing its way up as the scent of her throw up and bleach met her nose. chaewon yelps as she helps the girl throw up smoothly, holding her hair back until her body finally realizes she couldn't throw up anymore, though it was already too late by now.

the cleanup process went a lot smoother than they both expected. chaewon ordered y/n to get a sip of water to soothe her throat while she busied herself with cleaning the sink and the toilet since y/n was already so careful not to make a mess anywhere else. when both of them were finished, they laid on y/n's bed with chaewon stroking y/n's hair, the pregnancy test being the only thing on her mind. she was torn. she didn't know if she should bring it up to her, but it was the only thing on her mind since they first went to her doctor's appointment. she also was scared it would upset y/n. her emotions were unstable as of lately, and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of it, at least not now.

"y/n?" she finally speaks up after a few more minutes of internal conflict about it. y/n hummed in response. "you and jake don't use protection, right?" she asks, making y/n groan annoyed. "don't catch an attitude with me, just answer the question."

"we don't use protection, chaewon."

"okay then does he like, you know, pull out?" she asks further, making y/n stiffen up in embarrassment.

"yes."

"are you sure?"

"yes chae! god damn it," y/n says as she finally catches onto what chaewon was suggesting, blowing off the steam that was building up. it makes chaewon a bit more hesitant, but she has to do this for her; she didn't want y/n to keep living in denial if she didn't have to.

"y/n, i need you to think really hard about this. i get that you're frustrated, but i'm only asking because i want to help you... please. there has to be a time when you weren't sure if he did or not. or maybe he was a little too late to?" she is careful with her words, but they still manage to break y/n's walls down as she bursts into tears upon remembering the one important night she had so carelessly forgotten.

"there was- uh one night," she says. "i don't remember if he'd pulled out soon enough because we were both too tired to be safe about it."

"do you remember when?"

"i think it was sometime last month, but i don't really remember. all I know is that i texted you to hang out the day after because the sleep i got was so good. god chae, i don't even want to think that this could be a possibility," y/n was exasperated. she didn't want to be pregnant. anything but that. but chaewon just kept pushing the idea in her head, making her terrified that it'd be an actual possibility.

"i know, love, but i'm asking this for your own good. now, i have something for you, but you can't freak out okay?" she says as she lifts the girl's head off of her stomach, leaning into her bag to pull out the box she'd purchased.

"okay," y/n says as she looks over to chaewon's busy hands as she puts the box behind her back. "can i see?"

"okay, breathing under control?" chaewon asks. y/n nods. "and don't. freak. out. it's going to be okay," she adds on. y/n nods again as she breathes steadily, her eyes closing as she gathers her senses together without anticipating what chaewon could give her. "keep your eyes closed and just grab the box i'm about to put in your hands.

following her instructions, she gripped onto the box as soon as she felt it in her hands. opening her eyes, she couldn't help but tear up at the sight of it. she knew that her friend would give it to her eventually, but now? she wasn't ready. her grip on the box tightened as she shook her head.

"it's okay, y/n. calm down. breathe, then get up and go take the test," chaewon said, lifting the girl up as another form of encouragement. "no matter what the test says, i'm here with my undying support for you. fighting girl!"

"fighting," y/n sniffles as she goes into the bathroom, leaving an emotional chaewon behind. she sighs, laying down again to stare at the ceiling, her own tears starting to form. it hurt. all of it. from having y/n taking her frustrations out on the girl, down to each tear that spilled from y/n's eyes as she realized her life could truly be changing. she hated seeing her best friend cry, especially knowing that she didn't deserve any of that heartache. it felt selfish to sit and cry about it as if she were the one in y/n's place, but she couldn't help it.

taking a shaky breath, she exhaled in an attempt to calm herself down. she needed to be rational. if this is hard for me, then it must be hell for y/n. she quickly wipes her tears as y/n screams and falls to the bathroom floor, only a few minutes after waiting for the results. chaewon ran into the bathroom, shocked by the solemn scene in front of her. y/n, with shaky hands, held up the test to the girl's face. it was an unmistakable "YES+" on the stick. with widened eyes, chaewon pulled the sobbing girl into a hug. y/n was actually pregnant. and with jake's child at that.

"i don't want it!" she cries out as chaewon nods, quickly removing one arm from her as she began looking up clinics for an abortion.

"okay, i found some clinics," the girl says. "we can set up an appointment when you're all calmed down, okay?"

"okay."

"now let's get you to bed; you look terrible," she helped y/n clean herself up, brushing her tasseled hair into a low ponytail, washing and moisturizing her dry face, putting her pregnancy test into a bag just in case. by the time they were finished, the atmosphere had calmed down and everything seemed okay now that y/n came to terms with her conditions. she was just glad that this would all be over soon.

when the two girls finally got settled down, they decided tonight it'd be best if y/n wasn't left alone. cuddling while watching bojack horseman, talking didn't seem all that important now that y/n had a warm embrace that wouldn't leave her in the middle of the night. she nuzzles her head into chaewon's neck with a yawn. "thank you for taking care of me, chae. i love you." it catches chaewon by surprise, but she just silently smiles, deciding not to say anything since y/n was audibly snoring by now. looking down at her best friend's sleeping figure, she pauses the show and prays to god that y/n, and everything, will be okay.

august 31st. today was the day y/n's life would change forever. she wondered why nobody told her that the drive to the clinic would be so gut wrenching. when she arrives, she signs in for her appointment and sits down to wait. she got a good look around the building. there were many people here, some accompanied by lovers, others with parents, while there was the noticeable few who were alone like she was. the air wasn't as thick as she'd anticipated, but she learned from chaewon that not everyone who went to these buildings were there for abortions. a big part of her was jealous of that because oh how nice would it have been to have been able to find comfort in such a heavy decision. but the other part was thankful; she wouldn't wish this dreadful feeling on her worst enemy, and yet here she was, feeling it to its fullest extent.

chaewon sadly couldn't make it. well, y/n wouldn't allow her to, begging her not to miss any more days. it was a difficult thing to convince her, since she knew chaewon could switch to online school like she temporarily opted to do for a more flexible schedule during her pregnancy until she could put an end to it and go back to her regular classes. she'd already caused chaewon to miss so much, she'd feel guilty if she'd done it again, even if right now all she could do was wish she let herself be selfish one last time because all she wanted was to be comforted by the only person who could possibly understand her problems without judgment. she sighed, sinking down into her seat as she watched the muted television on the screen, praying her turn would come soon so she could get out of this place.

"y/n l/n?" a sweet nurse's voice called out as she looked around the waiting area. y/n's eyes widened as they were met with the nurse's who beckoned her over. her heart was beating fast as she walked behind the lady who was escorting to one of the clinic rooms where she would soon be met with the doctor who would be performing the abortion. being left alone in the room was either one of the best case scenarios right now, or possibly the worst. she could be alone for a second to calm down, or she could potentially break down before the doctor could even speak a word to her. deciding she's already cried enough tears this month, she opted to taking a deep breath to remind herself that this was her decision to make, and this was what she wanted.

"good evening, miss l/n, i'm doctor kim," a voice spoke as it entered the door. y/n turned her head slightly to the woman. she was around her mid-forties, but something about her reminded her of her mother, her aura was comforting in that sense. "i assume you're here to get an abortion performed?"

"yes, doctor," y/n responds, lowering her head since she'd suddenly become afraid to make eye contact with the woman upon the mention of the specific procedure that was soon to be performed.

"oh, miss l/n," the doctor pouted, making y/n look up at her. "before we start, i'm legally obligated to tell you the process before we perform it," the doctor explained as she placed her gloves on with a slight smacking sound. y/n nodded, then the process explanation began. as the words spilled out of doctor kim's mouth, y/n couldn't help but feel sick to her stomach. her brain started zoning out everything the doctor was saying, the only phrase she could hear in her head was her brain telling her to get out. all she could think to herself was i don't wanna do this anymore. what felt like hours, but was only around ten minutes later, the doctor finally brought her attention back with a clap.

"so?" she asks. "are you ready?" offering a comforting smile that made y/n feel anything but. she could hear her heart beating inside her chest, her breathing suddenly drowning out all the noise around her. suddenly everything felt all too much yet nothing at all. she stayed still, trying her best to process her emotions, to state her peace, or to just right out leave.

"i need to use the restroom," she squeaked out, tears brimming in her eyes as she avoided any form of eye contact with the older lady in front of her. doctor kim senses the mood shift and sighs. this was an often occurrence, so she could only understand where the girl was coming from.

"look, kid. abortion isn't for everyone," she says placing her hand on her shoulder. "you're young so you think it's the only option for you, but it isn't. there are lots of good young mothers. you can do this. i don't want you to make a decision you'll end up regretting for the rest of your life. i can see you care about your baby. give them a chance at life, give yourself this chance in life."

y/n frowns, her lips quivering as the building tears spill from her eyes. "i'm sorry," she says, burying her head inside her hands. "i'm so sorry," she apologizes, unsure what she's really sorry for, she just felt like this was all she could say.

"don't be sorry, miss l/n," doctor kim responds, helping the girl to get off her feet, taking her over to the sink to help her get herself together again. "you know, you can always come back again. we give free ultrasounds, i'm sure you'd love to see your little angel growing."

”i'll try my best," she responds as soon as the tears subside. they bid their farewells and just like that, y/n was on her way back home. and, though she felt a huge burden had been lifted off of her shoulder, she was devastated. she had to tell jake.. and that was the biggest burden of it all. exhaustion was the first thing to hit her once she arrived back inside, she was so exhausted that she almost didn't take her shoes off at the doorㅡ almost. she goes to lay down, flopping on her bed to stare at the ceiling. it was weird. this has been the first time she didn't feel the need or want to cry. instead, her brain was doing its best to think logically despite not knowing exactly what to do.

she knows one thing for sure, though: she has to call jake immediately to have him come over to break the news to him, but the problem was that she was scared. she knew without a doubt that jake adored her, but he didn't love her. they were fuck buddies, not lovers, so in terms of what she could expect from him, there was nothing. she was at a complete blank, her only way of finding out would be to put herself in the position to do so. and though she hated the idea of having to do it, it wasn't just some decision she could just back out of. so, she picks up her phone, her hand shaking as she clicks the button to dial his number. the phone rang a few times before his sweet voice sung into her ear. "hello?" he asks, making her fears start to pile up. what exactly was she supposed to say to him?

"can you come over?" she asks, her voice tinier than the sureness she was feeling. "please, like hurry up. i'm sorry for everything, i can't be on the phone too long, just hurry up." upon hearing that, jake's heart broke into pieces. he could barely process what was happening, all he knew was that he was rushing out the door and into his car as he sped to her house. after she ended the call, she released the breath she was holding, getting up to look at herself in the full body mirror. she lifted her tank top up, rubbing her 2 months pregnant belly as a river of relief washed over her. there was something so comforting about the "weight gain" now. and she decided that, no matter what, she was going to keep it. in the midst of admiring her changing body, she jumps upon hearing jake's banging on the door.

he was anxious, thinking the worst upon her sudden call that lacked context, but he didn't want to assume the worst as he was still feeling guilty about what happened last time he'd said his unspoken insecurities aloud. with her heart beating fast, she opens the door and silently lets him in. stay calm, y/n. she keeps reminding herself in her mind as she knew that was the best way to get through this challenge. she ushers for him to sit on the bed, quietly taking a seat next to him but with great distance as she was still fearful. he notices this, so when they finally make eye contact she could see the insecurities blooming through. and it broke her. "i'm so sorry," she bawls out, throwing herself onto him. her tears dont catch him by much surprise, but it doesn't stop him from feeling the emotional toll from them. he is sad, but he accepts the pitiful embrace. she's really done it, he cries to himself, the tears landing on top of her head.

he doesn't even want to ask who, why, or even why he couldn't just be enough for her. he just wants to lie and pretend it's all okay so that she'll stay with him, even if he'll regret it. "i'm so sorry," she apologizes for the hundredth time, to which he once again responds with his verbal forgiveness. she hated it. she hated being a coward in that sense. she hated not being able to tell him of her pregnancy, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. "please don't leave me tonight," she begs as she was scared to wake up without him again because there was no certainty that he'd ever come back. he gulps in an attempt to swallow the lump forming in his throat. it doesn't work. "okay," he responds, not sure of what else he could possibly say to her. how can you comfort someone when you're in need of comfort, too? "i mean it, jake, i can't stand waking up without you, at least not now," y/n admits and it hurts jake. "promise me you'll be here when i wake."

"i promise," he says, determined to fulfill whatever need she asked from him in hopes of her continued loyalty to him. "i'll stay forever if i need toㅡ if you need me to," he says as if his honesty wasn't convincing enough. she knows he doesn't mean it in the way she needs him to, but she still lets his words comfort those unheard doubts that are plaguing her mind. she eventually pulls away, looking him in the eyes as she offers a bitter smile. she brings her thumbs up to wipe his tears away. "there's nobody else, jake," she says, seemingly being able to reassure him without him having to say a word. he sighs, and smiles back at her, choosing not to question the real issue she wanted to bring up to him. if it hurt her that much, he would wait longer to find out. but, to him, nothing could be worse to him than her finding a new man. so he'd be ready to accept and forgive anything else that she felt would burden him.

"let's just sleep," he says, laying down. she nods, moving so that he could lay on her chest. her heart was racing; she could never get used to the feeling he gave her. he smiled at the rate it was going. all of that was for him. oh, if only he knew that all those unspoken feelings were mutual. maybe then things would be easier for the two of them. but, as of right now, they would both continue to suffer in this lovesick state.

it was easy to fall asleep with him like that, and it was even easier to wake up with him in her arms. the sun was shining on them, the AC's temperature was just right for the two of them who had forgotten to get under the blanket, and the air was calm. it was a state of being that she didn't want to leave, but she had no knowledge of his work schedule, so she needed him to be up. she kisses the top of his head shyly. he scrunches his nose while she continues doing it until he moves enough for her to understand that he, too, was awake. "good morning," his voice was groggy as he was still not fully awake. she doesn't respond, letting him get up to freshen up. he walks into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet to go about his business. once he finishes, he flushes and goes to look at himself in the mirror.

his hair was disheveled and his eyes were puffy, but he felt like a million bucks as he smiled at his reflection. "nobody else, huh?" he giggles, smile widening as he applied the soap on his hands to wash them. once he finished washing them, he began drying them off on the towel as he started wondering what she had to tell him last night.

when he goes back out, he finds y/n in the kitchen grabbing some frozen breakfast burritos out of the freezer, the meal that had become one of her recent food obsessions. "baby?" he calls to get her attention, failing to see the smile she cracked as her back was turned to her. she only hums in response as she continues to plate two burritos for herself. "i'm not gonna push you to tell me anything, but i just want you to know that whatever it is that's burdening you, it's something we can get through together. there's nothing that can possibly drive me away from you. i'm ready to listen whenever you're ready to tell me."

her moves falter a bit, but she regains her composure and continues preparing her breakfast. once the microwave beeped, she met him at the table, opting to eat as a way to get her thoughts together, his words ringing through her head as she did so. when she was finished chewing her first few bites, she cleared her throat. "i'm pregnant," her voice held no emotion, so little that you wouldn't be able to tell her nervousness had it not been for her hands shaking as she held the fork midair.

"i-" he paused, not knowing exactly what to say. he was in shock. and, from the looks on her face, he knew that it couldn't be a pregnancy scare because it looked like this has been weighing her down for a while. he knew his reaction to this information would be contrary to his previous words, but he didn't expect it to be this serious. "are you sure it's mine?" he asks, breaking her heart. a huge part of him could believe she was pregnant; everything was starting to make sense from her weight gain to her overly emotional state, all the way down to her eating habitsㅡ he knew she absolutely hated burritos.

"there's nobody else, jake," her voice cracked as she offered him a small smile, the corners of her lips barely lifting as she did so. oh how comforting those words were to hear last night, but now they struck him in the worst ways possible. she looked at him, his expression unreadable as he stared directly through her each time she'd lift her eyes to check his gaze. the cat was already out of the bag, so what's the harm in emptying the mess it left behind? "and i... i want to keep it." he didn't know what to say. he didn't know what to do. and he didn't want to hurt her, but what about himself? he isn't a bad guy. it takes two to get knocked up but-

"i'm not ready to be a father," his words came out quietly, scared that hearing it himself would make the guilt he felt feel worse. and it did. the look on her face when she finally looked him in the eyes, if her glow was already dull, he'd taken it away. the words already did their damage, now he has to stay true to them. he got up from the table, hands shaky as he pushed the chair in without a word and he offers her an apologetic bow as if that could take everything back. "i'm sorry y/n." he didn't know what he expected. who would forgive a deadbeat anyways. she didn't say a word, opting to keep her head down in shame. she stayed that way, not even bothering to move even after she heard the door close behind him, announcing his genuine departure from the home.

-

y/n wasn't nearly as sad as she thought she'd be. chaewon was right, it would hurtㅡ and for a long time it did. "but once you feel okay, even for a second, everything will be okay," she told y/n. and that's what it was, after 2 months of tears, her brain shifted its focus from the pain of his absence to the changes her body was making. she noticed the small bump in which the baby was forming became more noticeable in her shirts. deciding to embrace this, she stopped wearing baggy clothes. and chaewon never failed to remind her how beautiful she looked whenever they'd go out. she noticed she started to gain weight, but it didn't make her upset.

instead of looking in the mirror with disgust, like she had done before she found out about her pregnancy, she spent her lonely nights smiling in the mirror as she rubbed her tummy. her earlier pregnancy symptoms started to lessen, and her eagerness to visit the doctors increased as she was always excited to look at her ultrasound. she no longer dealt with nausea, being able to feed both herself and the baby without fear of regurgitation, but she soon found that her stamina had also begun to change. she spent most of her off days homebound, as moving around too much could easily take her breath away.

"alright, ms.l/n," the doctor says, spreading the ultrasound gel onto y/n's tummy, the coolness giving her chills as its temperature mixed with the cold air that the air conditioner blew. "let's see how this little rascal is coming along, shall we?" doctor kim asks, moving the transducer around as real time images of the fetus started coming onto the screen. y/n tilts her head backwards to look at the screen, smiling at it.

"aww, it's got its thumb in its mouth," she cooed, putting on a happy pout to chaewon who was indulging in the screen as well. taking her eyes off of it, she signaled the doctor's attention while y/n stayed in a daze, watching her baby as it minded its business in her tummy. "are we going to be able to tell it's gender soon?" chaewon asks, making the doctor nod in response. "how long will that be?" she adds on, making the doctor think about how far along y/n was by now.

"we should be able to tell in the next week or so, from what i'm seeing, if its a male, its genitals haven't developed yet, so we'll have to wait to see if any more developments, in that sense, occur," doctor kim says, moving the transducer more around the head area. "we'll have to develop the photos before you leave, miss l/n."

"oh, please, doctor!" y/n exclaims excitedly as she continued to watch the screen. "oh my room is gonna be filled with framed pictures of these!" she claps, making the other two girls in the room smile at her joy. it was a huge change in attitude from what they'd seen just five months before. clapping her hands together, doctor kim begins to clean up the gel and transducer, putting the items away as she begins the printing process for the ultrasound pictures.

once chaewon and y/n left, they decided to go to the store to get more groceries. "i want fruit roll ups," y/n said as she looked at the aisle signs, searching for the one that displayed where the snacks were. once she spotted it, she dragged chaewon, who was holding the cart, directly to the aisle. chaewon could only giggle at her friend with the roll of her eyes. "we gotta get some healthy snacks too, love. how about some nature valley bars?"

"i don't know..." y/n responded. "i just want something sweet and chewy right now, but i could go for some dorito chips right now if you want me to eat something crunchy," she says, mouth watering at the idea of it. "nope. nope, nope, nope, nope," chaewon says, grabbing y/n's hand while she used the other one to steer out of the unhealthy aisle that they'd already stepped foot in. "we're not feeding your baby that junk, let's just stick to fruits, okay?"

y/n grumbles a complaint under her breath, but she complies as they go to the produce aisle. "let's get chocolate syrup, too. for the strawberries," she begged, which chaewon mindlessly nodded to at this point, being too busy putting boxes of berries into the cart. "then go get 'em," she says, shooing the unoccupied girl. y/n nodded as she walked over to the isle where it'd be held. she hummed a nameless tune as she looked around for the brand she wanted. picking up two different bottles, she pouted in thought, turning her head back and forth from them.

hearing a groan out of nowhere, with a familiar base in the voice, she scrunches her eyebrows and turns to where it came from. her heartbeat picked up as a distracted and frustrated jake came into her view, only around 5 feet away from her. just then, she felt a sting in her stomach. "fuck," she cursed to herself. the baby was kicking. she, with shaky hands, quickly threw one of the chocolate bottles back onto the shelf as she waddled away as quickly as possible. it had been so long since she felt the rush jake gave her. she was no longer mad at him because of what he did to her, but she was still pissed off at what he didn't and wouldn't do for their baby. "were you kicking me because you couldn't kick daddy?" she cooed rubbing her stomach as she saw chaewon rolling over to her.

"what about the baby's daddy?" chaewon asked as they began walking side by side. y/n snarled. he really doesn't deserve to be called that. she thought. but she quickly returned to her normal friendly gaze as soon as she met chaewon's eyes. "we, well i saw jaeyun in the syrup aisle, and the baby started kicking me. i think he did it because he couldn't kick him."

"he?"

"huh? oh yeah. i've got a feeling he's a boy, my girl wouldn't use me as her punching bag," she joked as she rubbed where the baby was adamant on kicking about. chaewon smiled at the sight, moving the girl's hand to replace it with her own. it almost brought her to tears as they got into the shortest line. after they'd finished paying and packing the groceries up, they were on their way back to y/n's home.

chaewon shared side glances at the girl while she sang along happily to the tunes that were blasting on the radio. she was starting to realize just how real this was and how far y/n had gotten over the course of this half year. "you're gonna be an amazing mother, you know that?" she says catching y/n by surprise as she stops mid lyric. the radio's volume didn't change, but the world went silent and everything seemed to come to a complete pause as y/n's lips trembled into a small smile, eyes watering as she did so.

in the past six months of her developing pregnancy, she was never told this. of course chaewon has always praised her for her strength, and her parents had offered support though they were disappointed, nobody has ever told her that she'd be a good mother. and, though it's something most mothers would look over, it meant the world to her because she felt like she would be anything but. she didn't realize how long she'd been crying until she no longer felt the car moving as chaewon pat her on the back in a comforting manner. "shh, it's okay. it's okay.. i promise you will be," she says, making the girl's tears pour faster.

"thank you so much," she cried out, allowing her body to milk the tears as she regulated her breathing. "i don't know why that made me cry so much, i think it's been something i've been needing to hear for a long time, you know?" she admitted, sniffling a bit. chaewon nodded, but didn't speak. she realized y/n probably wanted to say more. and she was right. "it's just.. without jake, i didn't think i could do it. i was so ashamed that he didn't want us, i thought that i would end up not wanting the baby, too. but i kept it because i knew that it deserved a chance. and i've been doubtful about my abilities as a mother, thinking i'm not good enough. but hearing that made all of this worth it, i have to be a good mother to it."

"i know, baby," chaewon said, kissing the top of her head. "now let's get you home, okay?" y/n nodded as chaewon restarted the car and finished their journey back to y/n's place. after unpacking the groceries, they spent the rest of that night cuddling while watching a movie on netflix.

-

walking into the store alone, y/n talked to chaewon, who was resting, through one bluetooth headphone in her ear. "do you really think it was a good idea to leave the gender a surprise?" she asks as she pushes the cart aimlessly around the maternity area in target. "mhm.. yeah. no yeah, you're right. well, anyways i'm just at target right now, about to buy some new jeans cause these mom ones are getting too tight... i know! it's ironic. well, i'm not gonna hold you up, you should finish working. okay, bye bye. love you, too." once the call ends, she goes to pick up some jeans. as soon as she finished picking out a pair or two, she rolled her way into the snacking aisle. a part of her was relieved that her stomach wasn't too big for her to be able to push the cart, she enjoyed being alone lately, even though she knew it wouldn't last very long as she only had 14 more weeks to go, and things would only get more difficult then.

picking up two boxes of granola bars, she hummed quietly as her head turned back and forth between the two items. she wondered which one to buy, they were both a personal favorite to her, but she wasn't looking to spend hundreds again, she still hadn't bought a bulk of the baby clothes yet since she didn't exactly know what to buy other than an excessive amount of zoo themed oneㅡ because there's nothing more gender neutral for babies than animal themed clothing. it had only been a mere seconds that she'd been so lost in her decision that she didn't even notice that particular set of eyes that were set on her, guilt building up and rushing through his veins as he stood there frozen in his spot.

jake was carrying a handheld basket. he figured he'd only needed to come to pick up some protein bars and energy drinks, he didn't need a cart. well, now he was regretting it as his grip faltered on the basket making it fall down onto the floor, items flying anywhere they pleased. luckily the boxes only slid a few feet in front of him. however, the protein shake rolled into forbidden territory, that forbidden territory being the area where she stood. his eyes widened and his head lowered as she turned her attention to the protein shake, then to him. he did his best to stall picking up the boxes as he did what he could to avoid looking at her. his hands shook as her shoes appeared in his vision.

"you dropped this, sir," she says. she had a smile on her face, the most beautiful one that he would have been crushed to see drop as soon as they made eye contact, but it did. "oh," was all she could say as he got up, gripping his basket harder as they made eye contact for the first time in a little over half a year. "oh," he responds, his eyes flickering to her stomach. a sudden punch of grief and regret hit him directly in his heart as it seemed to clench with pain. he averted his eyes and looked back into hers, but, again, he wished he hadn't. the tears were already brimming. "oh, oh. no, please don't cry. i'm sorry. please don't cry, please."

"i'm sorry. i'm just so happy to see you," her frown worsened as she squeezes her eyes shut, sobs escaping through her closed mouth while her body only shook as her arms stayed glued to her side. "shit, y/n. don't say that, please," he didn't know what to do. his eyes watered as he hesitated before pulling her in his embrace, the basket long forgotten as it fell back to the floor with a thud. he thought a hug would help, but it just hurt the both of them more. he was warm, exactly like she remembered. she wanted to be closer, to feel more of him but her stomach only allowed him to hold her so much. he felt her belly pressed against his, and it was foreign because it's nothing like the last time he held her and it was just a painful reminder of why he felt so shitty to begin with. "i'm sorry," he says, pulling back all too soon for the both of their liking. "we should leave, i don't want you crying in a target."

he grabs her hand, gently dragging her along as they walked out of the building. "i don't have a car, i ubered here," she says as she tries to keep up with his quickened steps. he nods in acknowledgement, not turning his head to her as he was too scared to look at her again. "i know, baby. we're gonna go in mine." now she was kinda glad he didn't look back at her, because her face had contorted into both a smile and a frown. she was still his baby after all this time, even if he didn't deserve it. once they reached the said vehicle, he opened the door for her, helping her get in as she couldn't climb in as swiftly as she used to due to the big changes in her body. it was kinda cute, the way she needed his help. it made him reminisce the moments that could've been. the times they could've had together if he didn't panic. brushing his thoughts aside, he got in on the driver's side as he began making his way to her place.

after they'd gotten in the house, he had the pleasure of seeing the changes made. in the kitchen, there was a green high chair with leaves scattered on it. when they walked into the living room, there was a fluffed carpet with the abc's accompanied with pictures of animals corresponding to the beginning letter. they walked into her bedroom whose walls were littered with pictures of every ultrasound, the growth of the child becoming more apparent as it continued. everything has changed. and jake wasn't here to experience any of it. he wasn't there to help her through any of it. and he felt so terrible for it.

"wow," was all he could say as he stared at the ultrasounds. she'd long been sitting on the bed, watching him. she had always wondered how she would feel when seeing him again. she wondered how he'd look physically, how he'd look at her, anything. she wondered if she would be angry. she promised herself she'd be angry, that she would lash out at him and spew all the hatred that had manifested these past seven months. but she wasn't angry. and she didn't lash out because.. she didn't want to. she was so happy to see him. and to see how he still cared for her, it healed the wounds that he had left behindㅡ most of them anyways. the room grew terribly quiet as the atmosphere began to suffocate them, engulfing them in the gloom that jake emitted into the air. he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders heaving up and down as his sobs only seemed to elevate in volume.

y/n's eyes widened as she used her step stool to get down from the bed and walk over to him, wrapping her arms around whatever her body could allow her to. he was crying. every single emotion he had pushed down was starting to tear its way through his eyes, lungs, and mouth as he buried his face inside his hands. tears, snots, and spit pooled in the palm of his hands but he didn't care. he wanted to allow himself to feel. but he felt so guilty. he didn't deserve to be comforted by her. cause god knows who was there to comfort her. "i'm sorry. fuck i'm so sorry y/n. i never wanted to leave you. i was just so scared. i was already scared to ruin our relationship. and then you told me and i freaked out. i changed my mind as soon as i walked out but i was so scared to come back because that would be so shitty, but i thought about you every single day. i want to be in the baby's life. i want to be in your life. i'll do anything to fix things. i can't keep living like this. you deserve to be taken care of, both of you. and i want to be the one to care for you."

his words touched every inch of her body, from the top of her head to way beyond her toes. she didn't even realize she was crying until it suddenly became harder to breathe in her nose, the airways being blocked by a sudden stuffiness. she let go of him, going to wipe her own tears off as he wiped his hands off. "y/n? are you okay?" he asked as she finally looked into his reddened eyes. "i waited so long for you to say those words to me. i'm so overwhelmed and happy, jaeyun. please don't leave me again," she begged, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. he didn't even get to respond as he felt her lips graze his. their tears slipped through their lips as the kiss continued. he cupped her face, bringing her impossibly closer as he tried not to apply too much pressure to her stomach. the two of them walked over to the bed, he helped her get up onto the bed where they would lay for the rest of the day.

-

"when does your lease end?" jake asks y/n as he pours himself a bowl of cereal. she shrugs, taking a bite out of her burrito. she tries her best to think about the date she'd need to renew it. "some time at the end of this month, why?"

"i want you to move in with me," he says, making her choke on her food. she coughs up the remaining pieces out of her throat as she drinks water to calm down the new burning sensation. "well, my lease ends in two weeks. i've been saving up money so we can have enough for a down payment on a better apartment. what do you think about that?" he asks, sitting across from her. she was frozen, chewing her new bite from the burrito more than it needed to be. this was all so sudden. sure, she had wanted this for a long time, but she didn't think it would happen even in her wildest dreams. it just all felt so unreal. "am i overwhelming you?" he sighed.

"no," she said after swallowing the food. "i'm just- i don't know. i just.. think there's levels to this and this is skipping a lot of them," she says. he purses his lips and thinks about it for a second before nodding in agreement. "you're right. but i think it should be fine because it's what i would've done anyways. this is making up for lost time. i have to step up as a father, and this is what fathers are supposed to do," he says. "look," pulling out his phone, he opens safari and slides his phone over to her. she looks at the screen. it was an apartment with a lovely view of the city. "only a 15 minute drive from the university and it's close to a lot of the businesses in the area. i could get it now, or we can go and do a tour and-”

"you'd really want to move in with me?" she asked, looking up from the phone. he tilted his head to the side at her. insecurities were apparent, making him realize she was still wary of the whole situation. understandably, he smiles at her with his eyes and nods his head. "of course, baby. we're making a family together. i think living together makes more sense," her posture relaxes as she smiles slightly. a family, huh? she looks through the pictures more: 3 beds, 2 baths. would he want to make more with her? there's so many 2 bedroom apartments in the same area, why not choose those? she wanted to ask him, but everything was happening too soon. and she didn't even tell chaewon that she allowed the boy back into her life yet. "i think it's fine," she says, sliding the phone back over to him. "this is good. i have no idea how i could possibly fit all of everything that i wanted to give the baby into this small apartment anyways."

"okay, then. you can say hello to our new home," he exclaims as he puts his phone in his pocket. "i gotta get to work soon, so i'll be off before your last class ends. i'll pick you up then?" he finishes off the rest of his cereal, sliding the bowl, with its sugary milk, over to her.

"oh," y/n says as she looks down at the gesture, taking the spoon out as she silently sips on the liquid before talking again as if she were embarrassed to continue her sentence. "i actually am doing the online learning course, i figured it'd give me more time to tend to the baby." even with the small laugh she let out, it was evident that she wasn't happy like, the gesture was meant to be. jake nods his head as he gets up.

"then i'll come back with some dinner, let me know what you're craving before 8:30," he says, checking his pockets for his keys. while walking out of the kitchen, he takes one last glance at her before letting out a breath and leaving. y/n stays there for a while as she lets the silence engulf her. there were always so many things to think about when she was alone these days, but today the one thing on her mind was chaewon and what exactly she was going to tell chaewon.

a big part of her wasn't ready to talk about jake yet as she wasn't completely sure if she was dreaming or not, but the other part knew better than to doubt anything that happened to her anymore. and it knew she would have to tell chaewon one way or another. even if she didn't owe it to her, she felt like she deserved to know because she was there for her every step of the way. having jake would take this burden off of her shoulders, but y/n was immensely afraid that chaewon would be disappointed in her. how weak was she as a mother to take back the same man who turned his back on their child? very weak. but she wanted nothing more than for her child to be brought up in a warm and loving family with both of its parents because she believed that jake and she would be good ones, regardless of his initial response when he learned of the pregnancy.

"okay," y/n says as she finally gets up. "clean up first, tell chaewon after," she grabs the plates bowl, and utensils from the table as she walked over to the sink. one by one, she rinses the dishes off, one time, two times, three times before she opens the dishwasher to put them inside. she wanted to manually wash, but it would be putting too much pressure on the front of her stomach from having to reach over the sink for that long, so she reluctantly used the machine. after she finished that, she got the broom and began sweeping the floor. being too lazy to mop, she resorted to sweeping the living up as she did what she could to slow time down. but doing chores wasn't easy with her stamina, so after around 20 minutes of stalling, she decided to plop down on the couch and text her friend.

upon receiving y/n's message chaewon raises an eyebrow, but types out a reply nonetheless. she figured it was something important or something that was bothering because usually y/n would call. as she made her way to the car, she let her unspoken anxiousness run rampant through her mind about what could possibly be bothering her friend. while y/n stared at chaewon's notification, all that could be heard in the silent living room was the tapping of y/n's foot. she clicked her phone off, taking a deep breath as she waited for a few minutes.

telling chaewon about the situation proved to be easier than y/n's doubts had originally convinced her it would be. of course, chaewon's expressions showed hesitance for the whole ordeal, but at the end of the day she knew it wasn't her choice to make. and even though she wanted to beg her not to let him come back so easily, she offered her hand in support. and jake proved to be thankful; the day they all decided to meet up at y/n and jake's new shared apartment for some final touches, he conveyed his gratitude to chaewon. he thanked her for everything in the book that he could think of, especially for taking care of her in place of him and for staying by her side through it all.

"you know," jake said to chaewon as they looked at y/n's sleeping figure on the bed. she'd gotten tired after her day of fun with them. she'd just knocked out mid laughter, resulting in her innocent slumber while the other two conversed. "it's times like this where i wish i stayed. most guys, when they find out their girl is pregnant, just run off and marry her before the bump even starts showing, but me? i ran off like a deadbeat and hid in my bedroom scared. i should've been a man and stepped up to be a father sooner. you know, i saw her again, like- pregnant at a target. just shopping alone. i know how people think out here, i saw how people were looking at her before i came to her side. i can't imagine how much she had to endure before then. i feel so guilty. like i don't deserve to be here."

chaewon listened intently to his words, seeing the way he teared up over it. she hesitantly reached out to hold her hand on top of his, that action alone feeling like betrayal as he stiffened upon her touch, but she only wanted to comfort him. she swallowed before she spoke. "it's too late to change the past, you're here now."

"yeah. i suppose you're right," he removes his hand from hers as he nods and she didn't know why it upset her as much as it did. clearing her throat, she got up from the bed. "i should go now, right? it's late and i have class tomorrow," she smiles softly patting her pants to smoothen them. jake nods and gets up as well as he says "i'll walk you to the door."

"oh! that's not necessary," chaewon shakes her head, but he insists as he follows her to the door.

"i have to lock you out, so either way i have to come out here," he says, making her mentally face palm at herself. she'd read too much into the situation of course. it was silent as she walked out the door, turning around with her hands clasped together. jake raises an eyebrow silently. "hm?"

"her due date is coming soon. i'm going to step down from being her main support from now on. i want to prioritize my life now, so please fulfill that empty spot for me," she says, walking away before he could muster up a reply.

-

y/n's screams of pain filled the room as the doctors did everything in their power to talk her through the birth. her grip on jake's hand was painful, but he endured it because she was probably feeling worse than he was.

"that's it, ms.l/n, we can see the baby's head poking through now, just keep pushing, keep breathing," doctor kim says, but nothing registers to y/n as she keeps her eyes squeezed shut, tears flowing down her face as she sobs out.

"chaewon!! chaewon-ah, it hurts s-so bad," she brings her free hand to cover her eyes, wiping what she could. jake stays silent, only offering her a chaste kiss on top of her head, then on one of her tear stained cheeks. he couldn't be upset in a moment like this. right now, all he wanted to do was comfort her until this passed through.

"almost there and .... it's a boy!" hearing her son's cries fill the air was the first thing to bring her back to life. her soul felt like it was floating outside of her body until that point, but hearing the first sounds he's been able to make since leaving her womb, pulled her all the way back in. and feeling him in her arms for the first time made all of the pain and hardships she faced worth it. "jaemin," she whispered to the baby boy, whose cries seemed to subside once he felt his mother's touch. "you'll take the 'jae' from your father," jake's ears perked up as soon as he heard it. "look jaeyun," she turned to him with a smile. he looked down to see their baby, sleepily cooing while they both looked at him with nothing but adoration in their eyes.

"he's beautiful," was all jake could think to say. and it was true, jaemin was beautiful. even though he was covered in gunk and y/n's blood, he was beautiful. doctor kim watched silently for a few minutes before she felt it was alright to take jaemin away to wash him up.

"don't worry, i will bring him back to you after you all get your deserved rest, it was a long 15 hours, but you did it!"

"mhm, i sure did do it," y/n said, her eyes fluttering while she tried her best to stay awake during her tired state. after the doctor left with jaemin, jake wasn't sure of what to do. he scratched the back of his neck, sitting down in a chair while y/n closed her eyes. the room was a comfortable silence at that point, y/n's small breaths bringing the calm to a maximum. "jake?" she whispered, not thinking to speak louder through her drowsiness as jake looked up from his phone over to her. "yeah?"

"can you please sleep with me?"

his heart raced as he looked at her.

"yeah."

-

"that's a good boy, that's a good boy," jake tickled jaemin's stomach as the 4 month old baby boy cooed, using his small hands in an attempt to grab at his father's.

"he's not a dog jake," chaewon giggled as she watched the two boys. she sat on the couch next to y/n who was lying down, her back facing the group.

"hey, babies can be good boys too," jake argued in his baby voice, his attention still being on the baby he was rocking slightly in his arms

"that's fair," chaewon agreed, rubbing her stomach upon its sudden growling. "you guys hungry?" she asked, opening up her phone to ubereats.

"eh, i could eat," by now jake had gotten bored of standing up, instead he sat down with jaemin whose head was now being held up by the crease in jake's elbow while he sat at a respectable distance from chaewon.

"me too," chaewon says as she scrolls through the tabs on the app, being pulled in by all the food options that it offered. she hummed and slightly turned her head over to y/n who only remained silent, eyes focused on the closed curtains of their living room window. "how about you, y/n?"

letting her eyes focus on multiple spots of the room in front of her, it almost felt like she was searching her surroundings for an answer. but there was none. "i'm not hungry," she finally chose to respond before it was too obvious that she was still avoiding speaking.

"aw c'mon since when are you not hungry? you should be taking advantage of being able to eat whatever you want now that jaemin's outside of your body!" chaewon says, lightly nudging her friend's body, though the girl still didn't respond.

"well..." jake's voice suddenly piped into the conversation. "she's breastfeeding, so she still has to be cautious of the nutrients and junk she gets. can't have our baby being unhealthy, now can we?"

now it was jake's turn to be nudged. "aw c'mon, he'll be fine with a little tacos in his baby system! i'll order some now, matter of fact," chaewon said as she typed in 'tacos' in the app's search bar.

"alright, but none of that taco bell, we need the organics."

"well you're not gonna find that in korea.."

"fair enough," jake says as he gets up from his seat on the couch. "let's just go get some. y/n needs some alone time with jaemin anyways, we've basically stolen him away from her. isn't that right, baby?" he says, booping the boy's nose. he walks over to y/n, gently moving her shoulder in a way that would lay her on her back. she closed her eyes, not wanting to look at him as he placed jaemin on her, a heavy feeling forming in her stomach. he pouts, sympathizing with her tiredness as he places a kiss on both her and jaemin's head. "we'll be back," he says as he and chaewon quietly head out.

she only opens her eyes after she hears the door shut and lock. looking down, she sees jaemin fighting sleep as he is so at peace with her warmth, and it's only then that she's brought back to reality. the guilty feeling she would always get once she would hold him would come back again and she begins to ask herself why she was feeling the way she was.

carefully, she maneuvers herself so that she can hold him properly in her arms with a sigh. "god damn it, jaemin. why am i like this? i don't hate you, i know i don't. but why does it feel like this sometimes?" his lack of understanding towards her words makes her feel a little better, he dribbles and gives her a gummy as she kisses the top of his head. "i'm sorry, baby. i don't like feeling like i can only love you when it's just the two of us alone. this isn't how a mother should feel. you deserve better than me." closing her eyes, she slightly sways her body to become a human rocking chair to soothe him more than her warmth could do on its own.

"can you believe it's only been four months since he's been born?" although jaemin was nearing half a year of being with them now, jake already loved the boy enough to be able to talk about him nonstop for hours on end. he even went back to work early just to be able to brag about how healthy and strong his son would turn out to be. there'd even be nights where he and y/n would sleep with jaemin, and she'd wake up to see him have his back facing her, while jaemin would be carefully cuddled up to him on the other side. it was no secret that he loved his baby so much at times it'd be suffocating, for y/n at least. even when their parents came over to visit, they'd joke and say he must have been the one to give birth to jaemin instead of y/n.

even now, as the couple lay in bed, it felt awkward for jake not to have jaemin with them. it had been a mutual decision of theirs to have him sleep in his crib as sleeping in between two very active sleepers could potentially be dangerous. even now as they both faced each other, faces being dimly lit by their tv, his mind seemed to stay focused on the baby who was asleep in the next room as the smile on his face never faltered. y/n looked into his eyes, smiling back. she felt at ease being able to be so close with him without having to worry about keeping distance between their bodies for the sake of jaemin. it was refreshing. but she thought it'd be better if he would shift his focus to her, even if it was just for tonight. after these four long months of neglect, it's the least he could do for her.

yet, somehow his conversation regarding the boy never seemed to end. so, taking matters into her own hands, he put a finger to his lips, giggling as he finally grew silent. "you have work in the morning. sleep," she says, and he nods, the smile on his face staying the same.

"i must be keeping you awake huh?"

y/n hummed in response, using her thumbs to gently caress his face as he melted into her touch. "okay, then let's sleep," he said, gently removing himself from her hold so that he was laying on his back as sleep seemed to come over him quickly. she guessed it was easier to tire when it came to her. she turned her back to face him as she reminisced the days he would stay up and talk to her. she so naively thought that moving in together would bring them closer; it wouldn't be surprising if she woke up to an empty spot in the bed when she'd wake up later.

-

"i'm happy you're here, but you shouldn't have switched to online classes just to be able to see me everyday," y/n said as she changed jaemin's diaper, the boy kicking his chubby feet at her in protest to the cold baby wipe she swiped on his bum as she attempted to rid him of his potty mess.

"oh please," chaewon says as she waves a ringing teddy bear in front of the baby's face to offer a distraction for y/n to finish more smoothly. "going in person was only fun because you were there, plus i love that i have more time to see my best friend and my beautiful nephew!"

"he is beautiful, isn't he?" she said as she put the boy in his diaper, his hiss of fits finally coming to an end as she rocked him back and forth in her arms. "he looks so much like his daddy, too."

"well, i see the both of you in him," chaewon says, laying on her shoulder with a content sigh. "it's so crazy how much he's matured since he came back. i honestly held a grudge against him, but now i think you caught the stars with him. he's an amazing father," chaewon finishes, raising an eyebrow when she hears a small sigh coming from her friend. "what's wrong?"

y/n's complaint is simple. when chaewon asks her, she admits, "he's a good father, and he takes such good care of jaemin, of course, but i just wish he'd take care of me too, you know? he used to have real life feelings for me, now it just feels like i'm nothing more than a mother to him, now that he's a father." she prayed to god that she didn't sound jealous of her own baby. how pathetic that would be of her.

"baby... i'm sure this is just a first time parent thing. he's excited about the baby you guys made. i would be too, i mean, look at him! he's adorable," her eyes scan the baby's features, smiling softly at the sight before her. "don't forget what you feel for him too, though, okay? you love jaemin that much too, right?" it was something y/n never thought about. deep down she knew she had to love jaemin. she knew somewhere inside her heart that she adored him, and there were even times where she wanted to spend every waking moment with him, but she wasn't happy. or at least not in the way she thought she would be.

when she was first pregnant with jaemin, all she could ever think about was how badly she wanted to hold him. how badly she wanted to meet him and love him the way she knew best, but nothing she ever did with him felt like the magic she wanted. if anything, she was pretty miserable all the time. all the responsibility was pushed onto her, nobody else dealt with his crying, nobody else fed him, changed his diaper, anything. everyone got the luxuries of being around him while she did all the work.

she hated it, but that's what she was supposed to do, isn't it? she was supposed to care for her child while jake went to work to make sure they all got fed & taken care of. she couldn't possibly expect chaewon to pitch in, it wasn't her child. but she felt lonely, and even though it hurt her physically, mentally, emotionally, she couldn't just stop taking care of the boy. he was her responsibility. no matter what she did.

and she tried so hard to not direct those malice feelings towards him, but there's a big part in her brain that blames him. chaewon notices the silence and it tells her everything she knows. "a lot of things can happen to your emotions postpartum, y/n. there is help that you can get to get you through this. don't be mad at yourself for feeling sad, it's normal."

"yeah... i'm sorry. i just don't know how to cope with this stuff." chaewon shakes her head fondly and pulls the girl into a side hug, patting her back gently until she lets go again.

"don't be. i'll look into getting you help, but for now i'll look for temporary remedies." she smiles and kisses her cheek affectionately, pulling away once more before walking out of the room. "get some rest. we can talk more later, okay?"

y/n nods silently and watches her walk out of the room, deciding to put the baby to sleep in his room before she goes into her own to do the same.

chaewon's temporary remedy was one of the best gifts y/n could have ever wished for. it took some days, but she convinced jake to take y/n out on a proper date. after 4 months of solely focusing on raising the baby, the two of them are finally getting some alone time together. and y/n could not be any happier. he scheduled a shorter work day so they could go out sooner, and she spent the whole day getting ready. she had lost half of the baby weight, and due to the practices she followed to recover from the birth, her body looked almost the same as it had pre-pregnancy. she did her makeup as best as she could, threw on a matching velvet two-piece, and she even deep cleaned the house so it would look and smell good when he would arrive home.

when he came home, he barely had time to hug her and admire the way she looked as her hands were both already occupied. one hand held jaemin's sleepover bag, while the other held the sleepy baby in his car seat. raising his eyebrow, she only offered him a smile. "i'm ready whenever you are," she said, but he only laughed.

"i have to get ready too," he said, walking into the direction of the bedroom to do just that. the home was silent apart from the shower sounds as she sat on the couch. jaemin was in his cradle playing with the mobile that hung above his head. she didn't know exactly how much more patient she could be. now that she knew what the night had in store for her, she couldn't stop thinking about it; that made the wait so much more difficult to endure.

it felt like hours before jake came out of their room. his jet black hair was parted in the middle, partially slicked back on one side while his outfit consisted of a silk maroon button up with silk black pants and black loafers. her eyes couldn't help but widen as she looked at him. yep. they needed to leave fast. in the blink of an eye, she was carrying both jaemin and his bag, following closely behind jake as they walked to the car.

the drive was quiet as jaemin had fallen asleep in the back. jake's focus was on the road, while y/n's eyes were on him. after they dropped jaemin off at chaewon's place the plan was to go out to eat, but as they approached the highway that would lead to where the closest restaurants were, y/n started feeling a heavy feeling in her stomach.

"um, jake?" she says, lightly putting her hand on his shoulder. he turns his head slightly to glance at her before turning his attention back to the road. "how hungry are you? like hungry hungry, or just 'eh, i guess i could eat' kinda hungry?" she asks, making him cock and eyebrow.

"the second i guess, why? are you not hungry?" he asks, finally being able to turn to her when they hit a red light. she nods without saying anything. "not gonna lie, i went through hell getting that reservation. eating just a little won't hurt, right?"

"i'm sorry but my stomach hurts really bad..."

"y/n," jake says, pulling over to the side of the road so he could look at her while they spoke. "do you just not want to eat?" she doesn't speak back this time. he sighs, rubbing his temples as his other hand grips on the wheel. "fine. we don't have to go, i'm not doing this with you tonight," he says, his tone void of anything, but she could tell he was annoyed. he turns the car back on and pulls back onto the road, looking for the nearest place to turn around. this time, the quietness of the ride was uncomfortable. she didn't want to be in it, but she was afraid to speak; she wouldn't know what to say anyways.

instead of taking the route that would lead them home, he takes a turn that would lead to where they had come from: chaewon's house to which y/n begs him not to. "why are we going to chaewon's house?" she asks.

"we're picking jaem up?" he says like it's the most obvious answer.

"please no!" her voice was desperate, more desperate than he needed to hear. "it's just- i don't know when we'll ever get time like this again. i don't want to lose out. please."

"okay."

he takes a left, starting the journey to go their way home. his speed is faster than normal. she notices and doesn't like it, but she does her best to ignore it since she was getting what she wanted in the end. when they walked into their shared home, she was glad she cleaned up nicely because the atmosphere felt calmer than it would have been if the house was still a baby mess.

y/n thought she'd feel better, but her mood only worsens when she realizes jake still is upset. he goes over to the couch, flopping backwards onto it as he rested his head on the head of it. he unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt with a sigh. she walks over to him with extreme caution, sitting next to him.

"are you alright?"

he just shrugs, mumbling under his breath, "this was pointless, if we were just gonna come back home." she purses her lips, biting back a frown.

"not completely pointless! it's nice to get a break from being a parent once in a while."

"for who?" he responds, "i have no problem being a parent, do you?" he turns to her, a look in his eyes daring her to say something. and it should make her intimidated, but for some reason it only blows her off the edge she was already doing her best to stay balanced on.

"would i be such a villain to say i do?!" she finally screams at him, the sudden change in volume catching him by surprise. "jesus christ, jake. i just don't get what's so special about him." her words spew a hatred she didn't know she could have at her own child and it angers jake more than any angry words could possibly explain.

"him? HIM?!? you mean our child?!?!"

y/n dodges the question as tears start to flow down her face. he looks at her in disbelief as he gets up from where he's sitting to walk away to create some space between them, but she only follows behind him, her built up frustrations finally clawing their way out her throat as she spoke. "all you care about is him; you're becoming nothing more than a dad, now and it's so. fucking. miserable!"

"well what the fuck do you want me to do, y/n?" he slams his fist against the wall, making her flinch. a split second of humanity was able to hit him again as he pinched his temples, a deep sigh being exhaled. "i'm not going back to being a deadbeat. i'm not going back to feeling burdened by my own decision. he's my son. our son."

"yes, jake. believe me. i know he's yours," she pauses, the lump forming an unbearable pain in her throat as she opens her mouth to speak again. "but am i?" she wanted to be strong. in all the scenarios where she had imagined she would be able to express her feelings, she was sure she'd be strong. it wasn't a phrase she had intentionally practiced for the hundreds of what-ifs her brain conjured, but it was the only sentence that could convey the hurt she had been feeling in her heart.

she cleared her throat, deciding not to let the silence last a second more. "aren't i supposed to be loved, too? don't i matter, too?" her attempt to keep her composure crumbled as she broke out into sobs. she knew it was supposed to hurt, but did it have to hurt this bad? she'd endured this feeling of unbelonging for such a long time, the least her heart could do was make it hurt less.

"y/n-" she hears him interrupt himself with a sigh as he walks towards her, pulling her into an embrace and resting his head on hers. he didn't know how to comfort her. there wasn't an easy way to put into words everything he felt for her, especially since it all came with emotions he didn't fully understand. "you matter so much to me. so fucking much, y/n. more than i can ever explain." he wrapped his arms around her tighter and she returned his affection, burying her head in his shoulder.

"please promise me that you mean it. please promise you won't forget about me " her voice wavered as she spoke, and he noticed how badly she was shaking. he wanted so badly to tell her how he felt, but he didn't know where he stood. they were never together. even if they both loved each other, it was never expressed because their situation didn't allow them to in the past. now things had changed, and he didn't know how they were gonna handle it.

"i promise." he whispered, hoping it would be enough.

she pulled away, wiping the tears from her face as she looked up at him. he gently smiled down at her, placing his hand on the side of her cheek, brushing her hair back from her face. she leans forward, wrapping her arms around him as she looked him in the eye. he smiled down at her, heart beating faster as he swallowed all his fears to express himself. "i love you, y/n, i'm sorry for pulling away instead of accepting it." the words caught her off guard, this was the first time he'd ever said such a thing to her. and it was better than she could've ever imagined.

tears spilled from her eyes as her lip quivered, she nodded understanding before pulling him into a kiss. she didn't know how long it'd been since they last kissed and it lasted only a second before she pulled away. "i love you too jake."

in an instant, his lips were back on hers, only pulling away long enough for him to look her in the eyes with a smirk as he asked "oh, do you?" their kiss grew sloppy as he lightly wrapped his hand around her neck, guiding her to the couch as he maneuvers himself so that he's sitting first. he pulls her on his lap, hands making their way to her waist as she grinded her hips against his growing erection, letting her tongue slip through his lips as he began sucking on it. he moved his hands up, fumbling with the zipper on her top before zipping it down fully. once he'd done that, she slipped out of it, her breasts falling down with a bounce before he latched his lips onto one of them, sucking slightly before releasing it with a loud pop.

there was no need to rush this time, they had the house all to themselves. their kiss lasted what felt like hours, only the sound of lips smacking and clothes rubbing against each other could be heard. jake pulls back for air, moving to unbutton his shirt. she only watches him intently wondering how he could make a simple action so, so sensual. he notices her stares and he likes it. his dick twitches and he realizes that, though the kissing and grinding is amazing, he wanted more. so much more.

"you gonna put those pretty lips to use or are we just gonna play around all night?" he asks making her eyes widen in excitement as she moves off of his lap to lay on the couch, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants before pulling them down to his mid thigh as she immediately latched her lips around the tip of his cock.

he sucks in a breath as she swirls her tongue around it, scooting down in his spot as he relaxed under her touch. "yeah, just like that," he praises as he pushes her head down so she can take in all of his length, fucking deeply into her mouth, not allowing her to come up even when she tapped on his thigh, gagging around him. "mmm, that's right." he finally let her come up to breathe, moving his hand to notify her that he wanted her to take control. she used the spit around his cock to her advantage as she let her mouth sink down until she felt his tip hit the back of her throat, doing her best to keep bobbing her head that way.

he hums and pats her butt, lifting her hip slightly to tell her to lift it more into the air. he does his best to pull her skirt off, letting her wiggle her way out of it, standing on her knees as he moves her panties to the side as he dipped his fingers into her wetness, adding two fingers. he sped up his thrusts, adding another finger as she kept going, teasingly stopping every time she would moan to the point of being inaudible. her legs started to shake as she resorted to only sucking the tip as she couldn't suck him any better with the way she couldn't stop moaning.

"get up and ride me," he tells her. she quickly obeys and inserts him inside of her, hopping up and down as she does her best to ride him, though her speed is slow. he smacks her ass, squeezing it harshly before spreading her cheeks apart. "good girl.. do you like making daddy feel good?" he asks as he grabs her chin and pulls her in for a kiss, this time letting it turn french. she moans into it, the lengths of his cock hitting her g-spot without fail every time she'd drop down. it made her speed and movement falter forcing him to grab her by her ass, lifting her body higher as he begins fucking into her, leaving her an absolute mess as she entangles her fingers into his hair breaking the kiss to moan in her ear.

"you feel so fucking good around me, but now's not the time to be a pillow princess," he again still praises as she tries to meet his thrusts. she has to take her hands out of his hair as she grips her nails into his shoulder, unable to fully process the pleasure her body was taking in. with the way her pussy clenched around him partnered with the pain from her fingernails digging into his skin, he couldn't help but be vocal about it. "you just wanna get pregnant again huh? you want me to fuck my seed into you again? you want me to reclaim this pussy? huh? you like that?"

squeezing her eyes shut, y/n just couldn't hold back anymore as she falls apart on top of him her first orgasm taking over all her senses, legs trembling from the feeling as she starts babbling between moans. he laughs as she rests her head on his shoulder, words still not forming correctly. "spit it out," he says as he slows his thrusts down ever so slightly so she could speak. she didn't know what came over her as she moaned out again, another orgasm hitting her as she came undone once again. she looks at him with a fucked out expression and says "faster."

his dick twitches as he complies, pounding deeper into her, feeling cocky, and only speeding up as he speaks praises into her ear. "you're so good to me, fuck y/n. you're gonna have to deal with me forever.. i'm not letting anyone even dream of having a chance with you. you're mine, all mine you understand?" she nods. "keep letting me fuck you like this and you're gonna be my wife sooner."

hearing this makes her moan louder as she smashes her lips on his, he keeps his speed, sometimes thrusting all the way in, staying there for a second too long for her liking, just to drive her crazy as she comes undone another time, finally making him start reaching his own pleasure limit. he doesn't change his speed or actions as he finally buries himself deep inside of her as he filled her with his hot seed. "you're mine," he says as she falls limp on top of him in exhaustion. she smiles and for the first time in months, she felt all the weight lifted off of her shoulders.

"all yours."

end.

[thatbitchsimone]

I also love Angelica and think she's so great - there's another video on her youtube where she says people should only lose their virginity in their 20's - what do you think about this? I agree with her sentiment to an extent and I do think as a woman I was put into many situations that make me feel used now and I am sure this can negatively affect men as well.. I just kind of felt ashamed/worried after watching the video because she said that having sex very young can negatively set you up for life and I agree to an extent but I think there's more nuance to it than a 20 minute youtube video can express.. And also I think the problem more with me is I didn't know to express my boundaries or communicate and people took advantage of that sometimes.. and just how women are socialised etc etc

i was just gonna watch that video but it looks like shes deleted all of those videos (which sucks ass bc she had an amazing video about the tumblr nymphet community and its parallels to nambla and how it has negatively affected us that got seduced by that little subculture back in the mid 2010s) so unfortunately i cant answer this properly bc i dont have the full context and i dont have her arguments etc but i can still give some of my immidiate thoughts on it so here we go

i think losing ur virginity/wait with sex until ur in ur 20s is probably ideal tbh and i would absolutely encourage it for anyone who is in their teens rn and havent had their sexual debut yet. main reason being that u will be old enough to understand sex and its risks and effects and u will have had time to figure ur own body out more and u will most likely have at the very least basic level emotional intelligence and maturity that is required to have safe and healthy and enjoyable sex. like u have just finished puberty and just left teenagehood behind which is a messy and confusing and rough lifestage for all of us and ur now entering adulthood and have gained some perspective etc and u are way more in tune with urself (at the very least compared to when u were a teen) and both ur body and brain will be developed enough to be able to handle sex and have a realistic attitude around it and while ofc u can still be manipulated and u may still be somewhat naive it wont be anywhere near AS easy to manipulate u as it would have been earlier bc thats just how it is. u might still be vulnerable maybe sure but if ur vulnerable now u were even MORE vulnerable when u were a teen. its just how it is. thats how growing up works. u will probably have a way easier and more enjoyable sexual debut in ur 20s bc u will have a headstart in so many ways both physically and emotionally.

BUT im not gonna pretend like its that black and white and simple. Many girls (and boys but im focusing on women here) have perfectly normal and healthy sexual encounters when they are teenagers and i rly dont believe that sex will just automatically traumatize and harm u when ur a teen bc lets be real here, the key here is that u explore sex with UR PEERS, boys and girls within ur own age group, NOT ppl that are 20+ when u are like 14-16. when ur a high schooler and u want to explore sex u do it with other high schoolers. ppl ur own age. I think its perfectly fine and normal to have sex when ur a teen, but that is assuming u are having sex with other teens. NOT ppl that are like 5 years older than u. thats when actual impactful long lasting harm becomes highly likely. feeling like u got used and heartbroken by a boy in ur school aka a boy that is ur peer and ur own age will hurt and suck and will leave an impact on u but its a very different impact than the one u will be left with if u felt taken advantaged of by someone much older (not a teen). the dynamics are whats important here i think.

sex and relationships are messy and yes u can always get fucked up from it thats just how it is. u cant avoid it. u just need to be able to handle it and maybe ur not ready to handle it until ur like 25, thats fine. dont do it then. like if u dont think ur ready, just wait until u are. if ur like 15 and feel ready then go ahead but STICK TO PPL UR OWN AGE when ur that young. u gotta be equals. period.

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Drunk on a Thursday

Warnings: angst, dirty talk, language, alcohol

Summary: You thought about trying to quit him, until he called you asking for help.

Word Count: 3.7k

Series Masterpost

Taglist: @jakekiszkasguitarpick

“He told you they were just friends with benefits?”

“Yeah. He said it was a no strings attached kind of deal.”

Kathryn scoffed.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

I closed my locker gently, clicking the lock shut.

“I do.”

Kathryn leaned against my locker, trying to catch my attention.

“Why? Do I need to remind you that you hardly know this guy?”

I shook my head and turned my neck to face her.

“Well, What am I supposed to do? I already asked if she was his girlfriend and he said no.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes, almost as if she couldn't believe my idiocy.

“His response was more than just what he said. Body language can help determine if someone is lying to you or not. If what you’re telling me is correct and he looked uncomfortable when you asked if Jade was his girlfriend, and then proceeded to say she wasn’t his girlfriend, then he’s probably manipulating you.

I shook my head in disbelief.

“Manipulating?”

Kathryn scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah. He’s obviously trying to make it seem like he’s not committed to anyone. He’s gonna manipulate you, he’s gonna fuck you, and then he’ll drop you.”

Every few words, Kathryn lowered her hand to emphasize her point. Her thoughts on the subject made me concerned. I'd always considered the possibility Jake's intentions were simply to have sex with me, and her points certainly provided evidence to back up that claim.

Kathryn placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Y/N… I meant what I said earlier. This could be a great opportunity to experience a quick fling before we graduate. But I think you’re getting a little too emotionally attached to him.”

I scoffed and shook my head side to side slightly.

“I am not.”

I totally was. Kathryn raised her hands defensively.

“Okay. Honestly, do whatever you want, but don’t be surprised when he takes your heart and smashes it into a million little pieces.”

I nervously licked my lips. I was well aware of how dangerous it was for me to allow myself to love him. I was putting my heart in the hands of a con artist. Now I understand all the girls who succumbed to his charm. He was an untrustworthy manipulator, and I desperately wanted him.

“Y/N. Isn’t it?”

In the hallway, some random girl with huge fake lashes and an awful spray tan was talking to me.

“Uh. Yeah.”

I finished filling my water bottle and screwed the cap on tight.

“I noticed you’ve been talking to Jake a lot lately.”

I shrugged and avoided making eye contact with her. I pretended to be preoccupied with something in my backpack. I rummaged through it, pretending to be looking for something.

“I mean. I guess. We only just met last Friday though.”

Has it really only been four days since I met him? It already seemed like a lifetime.

“But you’ve talked a lot, right?”

Her voice was starting to irritate me. It was practically ear splitting because it was so high pitched.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“What did you guys do yesterday?”

What? Did she know we ditched school?

“What do you mean?”

I inquired, deciding the amount of time I was spending rummaging through my backpack was most likely raising questions in her mind. I pretended to be perplexed as I tilted my head towards her, my stare meeting the piercing blue eyes staring back at me.

“You guys ditched school, right?”

She was way too close to me. I could almost feel the strands of her hair brushing against my cheek.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes were wide open and seemed to be staring directly into my soul.

“Did you guys fuck in his car?”

In bewilderment, I recoiled my face. I couldn't think of anything to say to her extremely unusual question. I'd never even spoken to her before.

“Uh. No. No we didn’t.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms over her extremely large, and quite obviously artificial, chest.

“We did that once. It was hot.”

She raised her eyebrows suggestively in response to the last remark. I don't think I've ever had a more awkward conversation. I pursed my lips and nodded uncomfortably. The girl leaned in, as if she was about to reveal a secret to me.

“Between you and me,” she whispered, “I would fuck him before he gets bored of you. He tends to move around pretty fast if you know what I mean.”

Her statements sounded like they were created by someone who had been dumped and is now overcompensating for their rejection. Although I do sympathize with her, Jake must’ve hurt a lot of people.

“Mhm. Yeah.”

“Also, not that it matters, but he has a girlfriend.”

She waved her hand in front of her as if wiping a rag across a table.

“Just warning you in case you have a problem with that… y'know… ethically speaking.”

Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to get some information about his private life. I stood tall and squinted my eyes slightly.

“What's her name?”

The girl cupped her chin with her fingers, staring at the sky and thinking.

“Oh. I’m not entirely sure. Her name starts with a J, I think.”

“Jade?”

The girl perked up, his brows raising and her eyes widening instantly.

“Yeah! That’s it!”

I wanted to get the story straight, so I poked further.

“Jake told me they were just friends with benefits.”

The girl cocked an eyebrow and ran her tongue over her teeth.

“Um. No, they’ve been going out for a few months now.”

The bell rang, reverberating loudly off the walls. My heart skipped a beat as a result of the sudden burst of noise. Every student lingering in the corridors was on their way to their first classes. I mustered my kindness and bid her farewell before making my way towards my first class.

“Guess what?”

It was lunch time, Kathryn and I were sitting at our usual seats. I plopped down my bag on the floor beside me and sat down.

“What?”

She asked, staring up from her salad.

“Jade is Jake’s girlfriend.”

Kathryn paused her chewing and stared at me, shocked.

“Y/N. You know what this means, don’t you?”

I sighed deeply, already knowing what she was going to say.

“Yeah. I do.”

“It means he obviously just wants to fuck you. You’ve already revealed too much information about yourself to him. He knows you’re a hopeless romantic and now he’s going to play along with your fantasy until he gets what he wants-”

I silently motioned with my hand for her to stop talking.

“I get it. Okay?”

Kathryn took another bite of her salad and spoke with her hand over her mouth.

“That’s what manipulators do, Y/N. They’re smart. Sure, have sex with him if you want but don’t think for a second that he’s in love with you.”

I rubbed my eyes while holding my hand over my face. All of this serious talk was giving me a headache.

“Kathryn. You know I love you but you have to stop worrying so much. I can handle myself.”

Perhaps I just wanted Kathryn to stop talking because I knew she was correct. I didn't want to be reminded all the time that I was just a toy for Jake to play with while he went on to find someone else to fuck once he was done with me. He didn't care about me. There was no way he loved me. I knew Kathryn was telling the truth with every word she said. He was a manipulator who played on my fantasies, and once he was done with me, he'd treat all of the special moments I experienced as if they were nothing.

I checked my schedule later that night, it turned out I had a birthday party scheduled on Thursday for one of my distant friends from grade school. It was probably better if I didn't go anyway. The last thing I wanted was to be in an enclosed space with Jake’s drunk and high friends. Especially now that I confirmed Jade really was his girlfriend, or at least, she thinks she’s his girlfriend.

During Wednesday's math class, I noticed Jake seemed a little uneasy. He was fidgeting in his seat, adjusting his clothes, and even appearing to sweat slightly. I wasn't sure why, but I figured it was best if I didn't ask him about his life until we were more at ease with each other. I had to remind myself that I had only known him for five days. He probably didn't want to spill all of his deepest darkest secrets to me. Despite the fact that I would definitely listen if he asked.

One the other hand, maybe I should ask. It sure seems like he’s been confining in me lately. Hell, we got matching tattoos and danced stoned on top of a parking garage.

“Hey, Jake?”

Jake swung his head around. His usual assurance had faded, and he was now filled with unease. I opened my mouth to ask, but then decided against it.

“I can’t come Thursday. Sorry.”

Jake swallowed thickly and waved me away.

“Oh. That’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

I considered asking him again at the end of math class, but I figured he wouldn't tell me if he didn't want to. I doubt he'd reveal the source of his unease in the middle of math class. So, I let him be.

If I said I wasn't concerned about Jake, I'd be lying. In just a few days, his entire demeanor had changed. It left me bewildered. I wished I could see him smile today. He has a lovely smile

I stood in front of the mirror, trying to decide what to wear to my friend's birthday dinner tonight. I didn't really want to go to this event, but I figured I could put on a happy face and enjoy my friend's company for the evening. I didn't know her very well, and we haven't talked in a while, so I was taken aback when she offered the invitation to me. Nonetheless, I'm sure it'd be at least halfway decent. I chose a flowy black pleated skirt, a plain white tank top, and light brown boots. It was supposed to be a little cooler tonight, so I draped a jean jacket over my shirt just in case.

Around six o'clock, I drove myself to dinner. We were going to a small pub on a street corner. Due to its unassuming appearance, it was the type of place that no one would think to visit, but all of the locals agree that it serves the best food in town. I had a surprisingly enjoyable time. For hours, we ate, drank, and talked. I only had one drink because I knew I'd be driving myself home tonight. We all caught up and kept each other up to date on our current lives. I mentioned that I had finally smoked marijuana and gotten a tattoo. I let my jean jacket fall to my elbows and proudly displayed my new ink to the entire table of girls. I made it a point to leave out one crucial detail in each of my stories, Jake. I would have told them, but I wouldn't have known what to say. Oh, there's this guy I like, and there’s a chance he loved me back. But most likely he just thinks of me as fuck toy. That wouldn't go down well with my old friends. Tonight, I just wanted to forget about Jake for a few hours and spend time with my friends. Around 10 p.m., my phone rang. I stepped out of the pub and answered the phone, not paying attention to who was calling.

“Hello?”

I heard faint rustling from the other end of the line.

“Y/N?”

Jake's distorted voice could be heard over the phone. He sounded extremely intoxicated.

“Jake, what’s going on?”

“Um. I’ve had a shit ton to drink... like a shit ton. And… um… I was wondering if you could drive me home.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose with my middle and pointer finger.

“Jake… can you call a cab?”

“Uh. Um. I’m not sure.”

“Forget it. Sure, I guess I can come pick you up. Just, give me a minute. Text me this girl's address.”

“Oh you’re such an angel. You’re so sweet. Did I ever tell you how kind you are?”

“Don’t mention it.”

I hung up the phone and returned to the pub to say my goodbyes to my friends. As soon as I finished saying my farewells, I received a notification on my phone. Jake had texted me the address, which had been horribly misspelled. I knew exactly what he meant. He was on a street very close to where I was at the time.As I drove up the driveway, I noticed Jake standing in the front lawn, holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and his phone in the other. I rolled down my window and extended my head out of the car.

“Jake. Don’t bring the vodka in the car.”

Jake swung his head over to look at the nearly empty bottle of vodka. His grip loosened, and the bottle fell to the soft grass. He stumbled blindly to the other side of the car before taking far too long to climb into it. His balance was constantly thrown off, and his legs were violently shaking.

After what seemed like an extremely awkward eternity, Jake closed the door and I reversed out of the driveway.

“Thank you so much Y/N. You’re so sweet.”

“No problem.”

In the car, I noticed a strong, foul odor. Jake had, indeed, thrown up on himself prior to my picking him up.

“Oh god Jake. How much vodka did you have?”

Jake was drowsy, his eyelids half-closed. I violently shook him awake by reaching over to his seat.

“Hey. Don’t fall asleep. If you do, there's no way I’ll be able to carry you inside.”

Jake groaned.

“Come on Jake, stay awake. Where do you live?”

Jake gave me an address and a set of directions that were completely useless. I was eventually able to locate his home. I had to constantly remind him to stay awake during the entire car ride. Knowing that if he fell asleep, there was no way I could drag him up to his house.

Surprisingly, he was awake by the time I pulled up in front of his house.

“Are your parents home?”

Jake shook his head.

“No. Well, I don’t think so. They may be. No, I don’t think so.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I guess I'd have to hope no one was at home.

Jake's arm was wrapped around my shoulders as I helped him out of the car. When he piled almost his entire body weight on top of me, I nearly collapsed. I tried, but it was extremely difficult to ignore the horrible smell on his shirt.

I assisted him in climbing the front steps of his house. He'd left the door unlocked. It was difficult to get him up the stairs, especially since his legs were refusing to cooperate. It looked like he was walking on jelly. On the top floor, there were a few bedrooms. Jake was already falling asleep. To make things easier, I pointed to various bedrooms and waited for his response.

“That one! If I remember correctly, that’s my room, right there.”

His room was pretty standard for a guitar player. Old rock band merchandise on the walls and his guitar on a stand in the corner. His walls were a neutral black and his floor was hardwood. I sat him on his bed, instantly feeling the relief on my shoulders once he was sitting.

“Alright. Let’s change your shirt.”

Jake was too tired to care what I was doing. He was cooperative as I removed his vomit-stained shirt. I couldn't figure out where I was supposed to put it. So I rinsed it in the bathroom and set it on the bathtub's side. I went back to where Jake was sitting. His bare chest was on display, and his gaze followed me as I rummaged through his drawers.

“No, it’s okay Y/N. I don’t really need a shirt.”

Jake lowered his eyes to his naked torso.

“Well, maybe I do.”

His eyes wandered upward, tracing imaginary lines on the ceiling.

“No. I don’t.”

When his drunk mind was jumping from thought to thought every five seconds, it was difficult to know what to do with him.

“Okay. No shirt then.”

I shut the top drawer on his dresser which contained his shirts.

“Do you want to sleep in your jeans?”

I pointed to his lower half.

Jake let his neck go limp and dropped his head to stare at the buckle on his jeans.

“No. I want these off.”

In one swift motion, he unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans down his legs. He was now only in his boxers and was standing in front of me, a clumsy smirk on his face. He then used his eyes to undress me. His gaze moved up my body slowly, lingering on my legs and breasts. When his eyes met mine, I noticed a different look behind his eyes for the first time. A look of desire and longing. He must have noticed my nervous demeanor because his next words were:

“Do I make you nervous?”

Jake was obviously drunk and rambling nonsense. But I'd be lying if I said his words didn't make me flustered. As Jake took another step towards me, I felt heat rise to my cheeks. His legs appeared to be functioning normally now. He stroked my cheek with his finger, lightly brushing over the blush on my cheekbones.

“Look at you, getting all flustered because of me.”

His voice was still slightly distorted from the alcohol, but it was much clearer now. Almost like he’d completely forgotten he was supposed to be drunk. He appeared much more assured and at ease. His dark brown eyes were staring deeply into mine. The strange look behind his eyes had shifted from desire to pure lust. He lowered his head and pressed his lips against my ear.

“I bet you want me to fuck you right now.”

His hot breath tickled my ear, and I felt a sudden pool of warmth in my stomach. It was almost comical how sexy Jake could be even when he was intoxicated. He'd probably get more chicks on his second bottle of vodka than most guys would in their entire lives.

When he pressed his lips to my neck and began to suck and bite on my sensitive skin, I let out a small whine. His hands moved up my legs and under my tank top, kneading both of my breasts in his calloused hands. I’d never felt anything so good in my life. He returned his mouth to my ear.

“I could make you feel really good Y/N.”

His voice was deep, raspy, and dripping with lust. I leaned back, exposing more of my neck to him and savoring the sensation of his hands all over me, an occasional moan slipping through my lips.

“I’d start off real gentle. Then I’d speed up and fuck you until you’re screaming my name and cumming all over my cock.”

His mouth continued to suck and bite my skin as he moved down to my collarbone.

“I bet you’d like that.”

He murmured against my skin.

“I bet you’d like my thick cock inside of you.”

We were both pressed together, heat radiating from both of our bodies. His hands were becoming more intense. My breath was raggedy. He had me trapped in a trance that was slowly consuming my entire body. I was moaning and he’d hardly done anything yet. When Jake took one of his hands off of my breasts and started gently rubbing my clit through my panties, I knew I’d gone too far.

I grabbed his wrists and removed his hands from my body. I backed up so he wasn’t close to me anymore.

“Jake. You’re drunk. I think you just need to go to bed.”

Jake persisted, claiming that if I let him, he would show me the best night of my life. I ignored his advances and insisted that he get some rest. I had no doubt he would give me a night to remember, but I wasn't about to have sex with him after he'd just downed who knows how much vodka a few hours before.

Jake fell asleep in less than two seconds after I pulled the covers up to his chin. He was peacefully lying in his bed, his hand cupping the underside of his face. I didn't want to leave him alone that night, so I found a spot on his couch, snuggling into the warm cushions with a large quilt I found draped over the side of a recliner. I lay on my side, contemplating what had just occurred. He was drunk, so his ramblings and touches were most likely meaningless. To be honest, I didn't know. I'm completely clueless. I'm not sure if he's in love with me, I'm not sure if tonight meant anything, and I'm not sure what happened to him in the past. The more I realized I didn't know, the more terrified I became of the situation. I developed a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as a result of Kathryn's words today and my lack of knowledge about Jake.

A bad feeling that told me I might not like what I discovered about Jake Kiszka.

[chaosnojutsu]

I am going to ask a lot of you :) 12, 18, and 26!

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

this is going to sound Fake, but sex pollen! i rarely come across this trope in my reading (especially well-written ones, respectfully) and i have been holding onto All The Thoughts for a specific obscure Naruto ship, but then lo and behold one of my favorite authors dropped what would become one of my favorite fics, coincidentally with that trope and that couple. (i am emotionally attached to sing me to safe harbor)

not that that means i can’t do it too, of course, but i think BECAUSE i hold your fic in such high regard that i keep intimidating myself out of writing it, you know?

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

From chapter 14 of Reliance, I give you kissing lessons:

Naruto rolls his eyes. “So you do the last three steps all together. The head tilt, close your eyes, and then you just lean in…”

And Naruto does lean in. It’s part of the demonstration, after all.

“Are you about to kiss me?” Neji asks, tinged with panic once more.

Naruto backs away at once, his regular self shining through. “I wasn’t gonna actually do it!”

Neji looks Naruto up and down. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“I wasn’t gonna—”

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

“I know!” Naruto yells. “I don’t wanna kiss you either! It was for the demonstration, you know!”

THESE TWO. This was the most ridiculous idea for a scene and I’m so happy I ran with it instead of shutting it down. I can hear the sitcom laugh track playing between the dialogue. The struggles of “don’t touch me like you touch my sister” vs “if you don’t teach me how to kiss then so help me” vs “no homo” vs “we’re friends so it wouldn’t be weird right” just… yeah. Hits the spot. Theirs is another friendship I wish we’d seen more of in canon!

26. (For Reliance) Which part of [x fic] was the hardest to write?

*slams button* THE DINNER CHAPTER.

when i tell you i went back and forth for MONTHS trying to plan out how that would look. so much time spent on drafts that should never see the light of day, as all writing goes.

finding the dynamics between each set of characters was definitely the most difficult part. we have so little content of hiashi (reformed) and hanabi (in general) so i have a lot of room to play with them, which is fun, but i wish i had a little more guidance, you know?

hiashi was such a delicate balance in particular because while he’s a manipulative antagonist who consistently thinks of himself first, he’s trying to do better. he has no idea what “better” looks like but he’s trying. and on the flip side, effectively conveying neji’s internal struggle was something i’m still not sure i did justice on. he wants to believe so badly that hiashi really has changed, but he’s got major trust issues and deep wounds that still need healing.

hanabi and tenten are So Much Fun together. i really don’t have more to say, i just enjoy writing them a lot! i’ve been kind of framing them as the same side of two different coins so it was really interesting having them interact.

and of course hinata tries to give good advice but is oddly cryptic about it, meanwhile neji has No Idea what she’s going on about 🤣 i think hinata should be allowed to be a Weird Girl. give her some flavor.

-/-

thank you so much for asking and sorry it took forever and a day!! these were so much fun to answer :)

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 26 - Blood On My Name [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, guns.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: No one can run away forever.

There were some days when you just knew it wouldn’t be easy for you, and today was one of them, that was for sure. It was as if after seeing how Spencer had managed to charm your family the other night and how everything was going well in your relationship, the universe had decided to throw in some difficulties to make it interesting.

For starters, you had forgotten to buy coffee the day before so you couldn’t even have your much needed caffeine. After managing to get rid of the sleepiness with a very cold shower and getting ready, you left your apartment to get to your car, and that was when the second problem hit.

It wouldn’t start no matter how much you tried, so you had to take a taxi to your office.

And as if all that wasn’t enough, Spencer had decided to call you with some bad news as well.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined, pressing the phone to your ear as you paced in your office, “Spencer, please tell me you’re not leaving me alone at a party I didn’t even want to go to in the first place!”

“Trust me, I don’t want to.”

“You have a case,” you felt the need to repeat, “Today of all days.”

“We’re flying there in ten.”

You heaved a sigh and plopped down to the couch, nibbling your lip.

“I’m really sorry,” he said softly, “I swear I’d be there if I could.”

You sook your head, “No, don’t be sorry,” you murmured, “I get that. It’s your job. Besides, it’s probably a life or death situation if they called you guys there.”

He hummed in agreement, “Probably,” he said “But are you going to be alright?”

“I mean I’ll probably drink a lot,” you tried to joke, “And miss you for the whole night.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he confessed, “They’re sending some agents to make sure the copycat doesn’t try anything at that party if they even show up, but… Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“When am I not careful?”

He scoffed a laugh, “Do you want a list? Because I think it’d be a long list.”

“I’m always careful!” you protested, “Also, given our occupations it’s kind of ironic to hear this from you, I’ll have you know.”

You could almost hear his smile, “Just promise me.”

“I’ll be very careful,” you said, “Cross my heart. Besides, it’s Nolan’s company, professor. No one can walk there with any weapon, it’s a security company remember? Even I am leaving my knife at home.”

“Just don’t go anywhere alone, be in the crowd for the whole time—”

“Make sure to stay where security cameras can see me, I know.” You finished his sentence for him, “It’s not my first rodeo. Relax boyfriend, it’s just one boring party. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t say that,” he warned you, “Bad things happen when people say that.”

“I didn’t take you for a superstitious type, professor.”

“I’m not,” he said, “I just don’t want to take any chances. It’s already bad enough that I won’t be there.”

“You’re telling me,” you said, “I was hoping we could hook up somewhere in there, it’s a huge building.”

You heard his chuckle, “You’re incorrigible.”

“Well it’s always Mina and Kenzie who have fun in these things, for once I want to have fun too!” you defended yourself, “Besides, don’t pretend like you don’t like it.”

“Hey, I said nothing of the sort.”

“Reid, come on.” You heard Luke’s voice and Spencer sighed.

“I should go,” he told you, “I love you.”

A smile warmed your face, “I love you too,” you said, “Go save some lives.”

You hung up, then ran a hand over your face, slumping on the couch.

“Y/N?” your assistant knocked on the glass door of your office before peeking her head in, “Hi, are you busy?”

“Not really,” you sat up straighter, “What’s up?”

“You wanted me to remind you when it’s time for lunch,” she said, “Also I sent your dress for tonight to your place, the front desk will get it.”

“Thanks,” you checked the time and stood up to walk to your desk, “Damn it, I’m going to be late.”

“I also called the mechanics, but they said it would take two days for it to be fixed.”

“Today just gets better and better,” you muttered and she tilted her head,

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hm?” you looked up, “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine, it’s just one of those days. Since the morning everything is going bad, and I was hoping my boyfriend would be with me at this party, but he had something to do so…”

“Maybe he can change his mind?” she suggested, “See, I had this boyfriend once, and he said he wouldn’t show up to my birthday party because we had this huge fight, but then he showed up anyway.”

“Oh it’s not like that,” you shook your head, “There’s no fight, he’s just not gonna be in the city tonight.”

She scrunched up her nose, “That sucks.”

You scoffed a laugh and grabbed your coat and your purse, “It’s fine. Where are we on the Riley wedding flower arrangement by the way?”

“All confirmed, she says she loved it,” she said and you smiled.

“Thanks,” you said as you walked to the elevator with her following you, “I’ll be back in an hour, okay? Have a nice lunch.”  

                                                        ***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lincoln said as you sipped your rosé, looking around the restaurant you two were having lunch in, “How did you even break down your car?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“When was the last time you took it to a mechanic to get it checked out?”

“When I bought it?” you said and he let out a chuckle.

“So you have no car for tonight?”

You pulled your brows together, “Tonight? How did you-?”

“You know we run in the same social circle right?” he said, “My dad’s company also does business with Nolan, of course I’m invited. That being said, I wasn’t sure if I would show up, but since here you are, begging me to help you—“

“I’m just eating my food here.”

“I can drive you there,” he finished his sentence as if you didn’t interrupt him and you tilted your head.

“I can just take a cab,” you said, “Or mom could send a car, it’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“Consider it my thanks for your unrequited advices on my relationship.”

“Oh you need more advice?” you perked up and he rolled his eyes.

“No.”

“You made up with your girlfriend then?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You really need to go to Italy for a surprise visit,” you pointed at him with your fork “That’d be incredibly romantic.”

“Is that right, love doctor?”

Your jaw dropped, “Come on, when have I ever failed you with my advice?” you asked, “If you love this girl, you need to show her that.”

“I’m just gonna play it cool.”

“That’s a terrible idea!” you said, “I know you’re not the romantic type, but you need to at least make an effort!”

He shot you a look “I’m a romantic.”

“Bullshit,” you let out a laugh, “You might be the most emotionally distant person I’ve seen after me, and you’re telling me you’re—“

“I believe that some people are meant to be,” he cut you off, “No matter the circumstances. Consequences be damned, anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t deserve to be in love. I think if you’re in love, you should adore that person every day, and be there for them for better or worse. Whatever sacrifice it takes.”

You blinked a couple of times, shock coming over you, “Linc…”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the woman I love,” he told you, “Trust me. Nothing at all.”

You just gawked at him for a few seconds before you put your fork down.

“I stand corrected,” you muttered, and he grinned at you.

“Yeah, how does it feel to be wrong?”

“Oh shut up,” you said and stabbed your salad once more, ignoring his laugh.

By the time your lunch with Lincoln was over and you got back to your office, your fingers were itching to text Spencer. Reminding yourself that he was probably busy, you managed to suppress the urge and waited for the elevator doors to open.

Erica was already waiting for you by the door and you let out a whine.

“Don’t tell me,” you said, “You have bad news because today has a grudge with me.”

“I mean it’s not bad, but I figured you’d want to know.”

“Give me some good news, like you saw a puppy today or they named a whiskey after me or—“

“Your mother is waiting for you in your office.”

“I said good news, Erica.” you reminded her and made your way to your office before you opened the glass door to step inside. Your mother looked over her shoulder, sitting up straighter on the couch.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi mom,” you walked to peck her on the cheek, “What’s up? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need help,” she said and you hung your coat, placed your purse on the coffee table, motioning at one of the interns for coffee before you leaned back to the table.

“Sure thing, what is it?”

“How do my nails look?” she held up her hand and you pulled your brows together.

“That’s what you need help with?” you asked “You do realize that this is why we have phones?”

“No, I wanted to talk face to face for my next question.”

“Ah, I won’t like that question will I?” you hissed in a breath, “Your nails are fine by the way.”

“It’s just that, I don’t know when Nolan will propose so I booked my nail artist for a month.”

“I want to have your problems,” you muttered as your phone buzzed and you checked the screen, then touched the text message.

From: Spencer

The power of Love borne in my lady's eyes

imparts its grace to all she looks upon.

You couldn’t help the wide smile pulling at your lips as you skimmed Dante’s lines, then thought for a moment and typed in:

See that you bless the day that I took you captive; it is your duty to do so.

“Y/N!”

You lifted your head, “Hm?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you lowered the phone as the intern brought you two cups of coffee. You thanked her, then turned to your mother, “It’s just… Spencer is out of the city again, that’s why— never mind. What did you want to ask me?”

“I think I have an idea about Nolan’s proposal and this…potential marriage.”

You cleared your throat, “Uh, sorry. My client list is full.”

“Nobody buys that excuse honey.”

“I mean can you blame me?” you asked, “You would be the worst bride I’ve ever had to deal with, no offense.”

“First of all, I’ll just have a cocktail, not a wedding,” she said, “It would be inappropriate to have a wedding, considering our ages.”

“Mom!” you protested, “That’s not a thing! Anyone can have a wedding, fuck what society thinks.”

“Very delicately put, but I’ve made up my mind,” she said, “That’s not what I came here for. I decided, I want to be with Nolan and spend the rest of my life with him. So I will say yes when he proposes.”

“A surprise to no one,” you grinned and she shot you a look.

“But considering what people would think, I feel like I need to make a schedule. Do you happen to know when Spencer will propose?”

The coffee you were drinking went down the wrong tube and you started coughing, but your mother sipped her own coffee, patiently waiting for you to stop.

“Say- say what now?” you asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes, I was thinking I could stay engaged to Nolan until after your future wedding.”

“Mom we’re not— I’m—“ you stammered, “That’s not happening.”

She tilted her head, “Oh don’t be nonsense, you’re in love. Very obvious to anyone who has eyes, he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout dinner the other night.”

“Yeah but….” you cleared your throat, “I don’t think he’s planning anything like that.”

“Well—“

“I’m not going to ask him if he’s planning anything like that,” you cut her off, “I don’t live in Victorian ages, neither do you. I told you, you can get married to the eccentric billionaire puppy with a bowtie whenever you want.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Unbelievable.”

“Right back at you lady.”

“If Nolan lets you know about when, you will tell me okay?”

“I doubt he’ll let me know, he looks like he’s got it covered.”

“And you’re still planning my cocktail party when the time comes.”

“Mom, no!” you let out a whine, throwing your head back, “Please don’t do that to me. I’m your daughter, you’re supposed to love me!”

“I do love you, that’s why I don’t trust anyone else with my wedding except for you.”

“Don’t trust me,” you said, “I’m begging you not to trust me. Planning Mina’s wedding was bad enough, you’re even a bigger control freak than she is—“

“Y/N.”

“I say that respectfully!”

She put her cup of coffee on the glass table, then stood up.

“Just remember, I absolutely hate carnation flowers and polyester gives me a rash.”

“Why does God hate me?” you wondered out loud and she kissed you on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight honey,” she said and walked out of your office, ignoring your overly dramatic whining. You buried your face into your palms, letting out a groan.

“I really should’ve drunk something heavier than rosé.”

                                                         ***

You had picked this dress thinking Spencer would like it, and now that he wouldn’t be there with you, you were two seconds away from changing it. You heaved a sigh, looking in the mirror before you fixed the tulle floor length skirt of the pale pink dress and pulled at the long sleeves adorned with lace. The small screen by the door lit up as it started ringing and you walked there to touch it, then told the doorman that he could send Lincoln upstairs when he told you he was there.  

Soon enough, the doorbell rang and you opened it.

“Hey,” you said, grinning when he did a double take and blinked a couple of times.

“Wow.”

“Bad wow?”

“Good wow.”

“Why thanks Linc, you clean up well too. Come in!” you stepped aside so that he could enter the apartment and he looked around as you closed the door.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks,” you said and checked the time before you went to the kitchen island. “You’re early.”

“And you started early,” he nodded at the wine glass on the kitchen island, making you shrug.

“I just have one e-mail to check for confirmation, then we can go.”

“No rush,” he said, leaning back to the wall as you looked at the photos of the wedding venue for your newest client, swirling the wine in your glass.

“You want some?”

“Nah, not yet,” he said, “Work stuff?”

“Mm hm,” you mumbled, “She describes the venue she wants as boho-glam so it’s going to be pretty tough for me to find a lot of options.”

“Your job is definitely more fun than mine.”

“My job is harder than yours,” you pointed at him and he scoffed.

“How is that?”

“Have you ever dealt with an angry bride?” you asked him, “You wouldn’t last a goddamn second. Just the other day, one of them tried to make me give her a list of her wedding dress options too, the one thing I’m not responsible from.”

“I mean can you blame her?” Lincoln asked, “You obviously have a good taste, look at yourself.”

“Aw thanks Linc,” you hit send, and closed down the laptop lid before you reached for your wine glass to take a sip, taking a step towards the coffee table.

“Yeah I’ll almost feel sorry for Spencer for missing it.”

It took you a second. For a second, it was all good and then you stopped dead on your tracks, a shudder running down your spine as your brain comprehended what he just told you. You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms as you put the glass down, your back still turned to him.

“I never told you I was dating Spencer,” you managed to mumble through frozen lips and he chuckled.

“No you didn’t,” he said, “Erica told me. Family dinner with Spencer, it was on your schedule the other night.”

Your thoughts were like a tornado in your head as your heart started slamming against your ribcage and you turned to him, your eyes finding potential weapons you could use all around the room instantly and he tilted his head.

“So I know that there are about fifty things in this room you can attack me with,” he said, “But just so you know, if you try anything, your niece goes down. You don’t want your precious Lily to have an accident, do you? Because I don’t either.”

That red haze clouded your vision for a moment as your jaw clenched.

“I’m going to kill you,” your voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to you anymore, it was way too cold, way too calm, the shock leaving its place to fury roaring through your veins. A manic smile pulled at Lincoln’s lips and that dangerous gleam which you had seen multiple times in your father’s eyes appeared in his eyes as well before he took a step towards you.

“I missed your fire,” he said as if he was in awe, “So much. It’s been a torture to keep my distance from you. But honestly, Petal,” he tut-tutted, then reached behind him and pulled out his gun to point it at you.

“You should’ve known better.”

Chapter 27 

[neko-rogers]

All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

     It was emotionally crushing.

     The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings. 

     As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

     It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

     Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

     “You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

     The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

     Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

     You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

     “Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

     You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

     “I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles. 

     “Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?” 

     “Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

     However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

     “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

     “It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.”      “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

     “I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

     Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

     You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

     This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

     Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

     “Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation. 

     “But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

     You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

     There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back. 

     “Okay then I’ll–”

     “No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

     You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends. 

     And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     "Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

     “We’re so proud of you.”

     “You two look so happy together!”

     “Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

     “Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

     A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

     Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

     All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

     After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

     Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

     “To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

     You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

     Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you’re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

     Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

     When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

     Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

     “Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

     Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad. 

     Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

     “I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

     “We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

*

     Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

     As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

     Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

     When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

     His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

     He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

     “I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

     “What do you mean?”

     “I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

     His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

     “I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

     Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

     “Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

     “Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

     “That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

     “You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

     Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

     “I’m sorry–”      “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

     “I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

     “No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

     “Okay.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     “That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

     Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

     You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

     It was emotionally crushing.

     “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     “Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

     “That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

     “Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

     “Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

     You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

     “I guess I owe you an apology.”

     Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

     “Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

     The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

     “Of course, Peter.” 

     “Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.” 

     You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

     “Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

     “I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

     He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

     “You’re too sweet.” You smile.

     Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

     From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

     As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

     “Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

     As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

     And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

     “Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

     “Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

     He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

     His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

     Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally. 

     He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships. 

     And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

     Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

     For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

     One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

     “Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

     “Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

     “Yeah, babe?”

     “C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

     He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

     Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt. 

     He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear. 

     The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

     You react by tightening around it, along with a whine. 

     “Sorry, babe.”

     Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

     Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

     “Hmm,” was your only response.

     Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

     “That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself. 

     He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

     Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

     There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

     “Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

     As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

     Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

     Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

     When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

     “Peter?”      “Hmm?”

     “I still feel hot,” you purr. 

     Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

     You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

     You were his.

[piecksz]

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader 

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol 

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container. 

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen. 

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her. 

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.  

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.  

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.  

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.  

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.  

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process. 

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

[synergysilhouette]

My Two First Loves (rant from Reddit)

First off for those who don't know, the title is VERY misleading. The story is about a young woman on a journey through her sexuality and her life. You can tell the writers put you on a certain path rather than really caring about what you want. Right off the bat, you have a crush on your childhood friend, the golden boy who's constantly emotionally manipulated by his father, who is also your high school principal. Followed shortly after, you crush on the new guy, a bad boy who's been dealt a bad hand in life, and by the middle of the book, you realize you're also interested in your BFF.

Lemme just say, this story goes against the brand of "Choices." Your character is made to be a girl put into a box by her overprotective dad and quits her cheerleading squad in favor of photography. But I liked cheer…Along with this, it does kind of annoy me how her single dad is made to be the kind of "doesn't understand me" character despite being a trying and morally sound character for the most part.

Along with this, you get the angst of real dating instead of having fun with whoever; all 3 of your LIs are pushed onto you, and the male LIs get into fights over this (along with your childhood crush's belief that the new guy is dangerous, but again, it's his dad manipulating him) where later it's revealed that you decide to hang out with your female LI and you guys have sex on New Years' (but it costs diamonds to reminisce on it). Pretty much everyone drags you for actively dating, and even your LIs pressure you at the end for leading them on, but then get upset when you don't pick them. Honestly I didn't want to pick ANY of them, but I just picked the childhood crush because I'm into guys and the air force is underrated--plus the bad boy's "cool and everyone can suck it" personality wasn't really my taste, at least not here.

The thing wrong with this book lies in it's plot, which forces you to play as a female, romance 3 people at once, be unsatisfied with where you are in life, and then pay the consequences for it. I'm a good boy, so the rebllion wasn't something I could relate to personally, and I feel like they could've made this a college-era book (similar to the freshman) with the MC struggling to choose a major in their sophmore/junior year of college, as well as struggling to be in their first relationship. It didn't have to be as angsty as they made it. It was really frustrating.