#so... :/

[popatochisssp]

poppy pls say ur gonna keep the rainbow theme for longer than just pride month 🥺🙏 it's so prettie

I was so sure I was just gonna do the rainbow for Pride Month, but...

Damn it, you're right, it is prettie, maybe this is a summer theme 😩

[lyngracetalksnwritesnstuff]

Yilling Wei Sect AU Chapter Seven

Ao3

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Wangji remembered Wen Qing yelling at them as she found them the next morning.

"You idiots! What were you thinking? I expected this from you, Wei Ying, but Lan Wangji, I expected better of you! Wei Ying needs to rest!"

"Qing-Jie," Wei Ying winced, covering his ears. "Could you be quieter? Please?"

Wen Qing turned her ire to him. "And you. What the fuck were you thinking? We've been worried sick looking for the both of you all morning! With the assassination attempt, we thought you'd both been kidnapped!" Wen Qing's voice grew shrill and furious as she shouted at them.

"Wen-Guniang," Wangji interrupted her tirade quietly. "We are very sorry. I went for a walk after I thought Wei Ying was asleep and ended up here. A yao somehow made it through the wards and followed me, pretending to be Wei Ying. The real Wei Ying woke up and noticed I was gone. Thankfully, my brother was still around the camp, so he directed him to me, and got there in time to save me from the yao, as I did not have my sword nearby. Believe me, I was also quite unhappy that he got out of bed. He didn't seem in a good state to be moved, so we stayed here, and I suppose we fell asleep."

Wen Qing's anger seemed to deflate, and her impeccable posture fell away, making her look so very tired.

"I'm sorry for yelling," She whispered. "I'm just glad you're alright."

She hugged Wei Ying, who was now standing with Wangji's help. To his surprise, she pulled Wangji into her embrace as well.

"You too, Wangji. Don't do that again, either of you, okay? If you think something's wrong, tell someone. No one wanders off without at least a few people knowing where they are, not here."

Wangji nodded, relaxing into the hug. He didn't have a sister; he supposed this was the closest he'd come.

"Let's go back. You're lucky the banquet is set for late afternoon and not this morning, Meng Yao's been working himself to the bone keeping the other sect leaders at bay as it is." Wen Qing waved them along, constantly checking behind her as if to make sure they hadn't disappeared.

"Oh, in other news," Wen Qing went on, her tone doing a complete three-sixty. "Zu Lanzi and Liu Vian arrived with their children early this morning."

Wei Ying seemed to perk up considerably. "Zi-Jie? Really? I haven't seen her and her wife in forever!" He exclaimed.

"Are Zu-Guniang and Liu-Guniang part of the sect?" Wangji asked, curious about the unfamiliar names.

Wei Ying turned his beaming smile to him. "Zi-Jie and her wife were some of the first refugees to arrive in the Burial Mounds! They have two daughters, Zu Shuyi and Zu Xia, who are war orphans. They've been traveling the past year, so you haven't met them, but they're th best! I think you would get along with Liu-Jie especially." Wei Ying explained animatedly.

"They are both women?" Wangji asked, intrigued.

"Yeah," Wen Qing confirmed. "I have enough faith in you to trust that you won't make a stupid comment, so I won't give you the whole 'and what's it to you' speech."

Wangji nodded in confirmation, standing up straighter as they reached the camp. Wei Ying attracted many shouts and releived sighs as they entered it, and the teenagers, accompanied by two unfamiliar girls, ran to them.

Shouts of "Xian-Gege!" were mixed with the girls' exclaimations of "Wei-Jiujiu!" as they dashed to hug Wei Ying as gently as Wangji thought was possible of excited teens.

"A-Yang! A-Yu!" Wei Ying called, opening his arms for all of them. "And," He pretended to gasp. "Who's this? Surely these cannot be my A-Yi and A-Xia! They're far too big!"

The younger-looking girl giggled at that. "Wei-Jiujiu, we're barely bigger than we were the last time you saw us! You just have a bad memory!"

Wei Ying gasped again, putting a dramatic hand to his chest in false offense. "Lies! Lies and slander, I tell you! My A-Xia was never this cheeky!"

Ah, so the younger one was Zu Xia. Wangji smiled, watching as Wei Ying joked and laughed with the teenagers, ruffling Zu Shuyi's hair and giving them all individual hugs.

"Wei-Jiujiu, who's that?" Zu Shuyi asked politely, gesturing to Wangji.

At this, the boys noticed him and ran to give him hugs as well, which he accepted with a smile, patting their heads as he'd seen Wei Ying do.

"This is Lan Wangji, my husband," Wei Ying explained, moving to stand closer to Wangji, who caught him as he stumbled on a stray pebble.

"Oh," Zu Xia looked surprised. "Nice to meet you, Lan-Qianbei. I am Zu Xia, and this is my older sister, Zu Shuyi.

Wangji bowed in greeting. "It is nice to meet you as well."

"Where are your mothers? I need to see my Zi-Jie," Wei Ying demanded playfully, gesturing for the girls to lead the way.

"She's in the Jingshi, taking tea with Meng Yao," Zu Shuyi supplied. "She is probably going to yell at you for disappearing, so tread carefully."

Wei Ying laughed. "Zi-Jie can never stay mad at me for long, you'll see."

Zu Shuyi led them to the Jingshi, their happy chatter filling the air as they walked along the path.

"Well, I can't say I'm looking forward to being on bed rest again—"

Wei Ying suddenly froze, stopping at the Jingshi doors, and Wangji hurried to stand beside him, wondering what could've possibly shaken him so—

Oh.

Jiang Yanli and Jiang Wanyin were sitting at the tea table with a horrified-looking Meng Yao and a wide-eyed woman, Wangji was pretty sure was Zu Lanzi.

Jiang Yanli's teacup slipped from her fingers as she stared at Wei Ying, who was maskless, disbelief evident on her face. It thudded softly on the table, empty as she slowly stood and made her way across the room rather quickly to stand right in front of Wei Ying.

Wangji resigned himself to never knowing what was going on.

"A-Xian?" She whispered, barely audible. A tear traced it's way down her face as she brushed her fingers against Wei Ying's hair, moving it out of his face.

"What the fuck is happening?" Zu Xia stage whispered to Xue Yang, who shrugged, just as lost.

Jiang Wanyin seemed to literally be frozen, his expression fixed into one of awe, skepticism, grief, and joy.

Wei Ying was completely still, barely breathing as Jiang Yanli stared at him with an achingly hopeful face.

"Wei Ying?" Wangji asked quietly. "What is going on?"

This, it seemed, confirmed whatever Jiang Yanli and Jiang Wanyin's suspicions were, as Jiang Yanli let out a broken sob and flung herself onto Wei Ying in a tight embrace, Jiang Wanyin following.

Okay. Wangji was very, very out of the loop.

"A-Xian," Jiang Yanli was whispering, over and over.

"You're alive," Jiang Wanyin murmured, looking shell-shocked, the only emotion other than anger and irritation Wangji had ever seen on him.

Wait. The Jiang siblings. Wei Wuxian. Wei Ying. The head disciple who'd died.

Was Wei Ying...?

"I'm sorry," Wei Ying sobbed, clutching the Jiangs desperately. "I'm so, so sorry."

Wangji frowned at this. True, he had no idea what was happening, but he was sure Wei Ying had nothing to be sorry for.

Wen Qing looked alarmingly frightened by the situation, Meng Yao panicked, and Zu Lanzi sipped her tea as if trying to hide behind the teacup.

Wei Ying eventually parted from the Jiangs, sniffling and red-eyed, wiping the tears that had started to flow from his face.

"Wei Ying," Wangji moved closer to him, handing him a handkerchief in concern,

"Sorry, sorry," Wei Ying blew his nose, still sniffling.

"Don't apologize," Wangji told him gently. "You have done nothing wrong."

Wei Ying let out a half-sob at that, blinking back stray tears.

"A-Xian," Jiang Yanli said, still looking as though Wei Ying might disappear any moment. "What... why...?" She trailed off, not seeming to know what question to ask.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation," Wei Ying gave them a wobbly smile, letting Wangji help him sit down with a wince.

"Hey, Ying-Di," Zu Lanzi greeted him. "Should I go?"

"No, no, you just got here, and I've missed you, Zi-Jie. You also should hear this, probably. You too, Lan Zhan."

Wangji nodded, seating himself next to Wei Ying.

"Wei Wuxian," Jiang Wanyin's voice was quieter than Wangji had thought possible for him. "What happened? How are you alive? Why didn't you tell us? What happened?"

"I'll explain," Wei Ying suddenly looked haggard and tired, his eyes haunted and resigned.

"Start with me," Wen Qing supplied, sitting on Wei Ying's other side. "That's sort of how all this started anyway."

Wei Ying nodded, shaking his head as if to clear all his exhaustion and conflictedness away.

"I met Wen Qing on a Night Hunt near Qishan." Wei Ying started, his voice clear and steady. "She helped me find the beast that was terrorizing the town, and we became correspondents. She shared concerns with me about Wen Rouhan's growing power, and we talked about idle strategies to sabotage and stop him.

"One day, I received a letter from her warning me that Wen Rouhan's ire had turned to me, mainly because I had taken one too many Night Hunts near Qishan, and they didn't want me finding out that they barely Night Hunted anymore and bringing it up to the other sects. I also was too influential and powerful to be left alive with the Jiangs, I suppose.

"I had been prepared to get attacked during the night, and on less-populated Night Hunts, but was caught off guard when the Wens took Jiang Cheng and me after we defeated the yao in that forest."

"What?!" Jiang Wanyin interrupted. "That didn't happen!"

Wei Ying looked so, so sad when he turned to Jiang Wanyin. "Jiang Cheng. What do you remember about that day?"

Jiang Wanyin frowned. "It's foggy. I remember coming back for you and getting snatched by the beast. It took us to its lair, where it held us for a few days until you were able to get our swords. We fought it, and you..." He trailed off, looking upset. "You died."

Wei Ying seemed to brace himself before speaking again. "You remember that because it's what I wanted you to remember."

Jiang Wanyin went white. "No. No, you didn't. You, you couldn't have!"

Wei Ying looked at the floor. Wangji wished he could comfort him in any meaningful way. He felt helpless and horrified as Wei Ying continued with his story.

"The Wen took Jiang Cheng and me, and managed to hold us for a day before we managed to escape. I fled to Qing-Jie's house, and she granted us sanctuary for a few days. I helped create the false memory talisman and told Wen Qing to use it if the Wen captured me again, which they did while I was at the market. I couldn't have you running in senselessly while distracted by looking for me. Better to simply die, as I was sure the Wen would kill me anyway, and it was better to have you believe there was nothing you could do, instead of thinking you could've saved me if only.

"Instead of killing me, the Wens melted my core and threw me in the Burial Mounds. Unluckily for them, I managed to survive and learn demonic cultivation to build a life for myself there. Zi-Jie and Liu-Jie were one of the first people I'd seen in a very long time; they were thrown into the Burial Mounds about six months after I was, and I granted them sanctuary. They came with their children, A-Li and A-Xia. Mo-Nushi came soon after, with A-Yu, and A-Yang not long after that. Then the Dafan Wen came, and by then I was already sustaining about fifty people in the Burial Mounds, and had started the process of clearing the resentful energy.

"A-Xiao was my first child; he came to me as a baby, followed closely by A-Qing and A-Yuan, who is actually Wen Qing's cousin; she and A-Ning allowed me to adopt him."

There was stunned silence after Wei Ying had finished talking. Wangji thought he might be sick. Wei Ying was coreless? It had been melted, and then he'd been tossed into the Burial Mounds to die? No wonder he'd turned to demonic cultivation; it had been his only way to survive.

There was one thing that stood out to Wangji, though. Wei Ying was lying.

Wangji didn't know why, and he didn't question it then; he would ask him later, but Wei Ying had clenched his fists slightly under the low table, his tell, while he was telling them about their stay at Wen Qing's house.

"Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you find us?" Jiang Yanli asked, heartbreak clear on her face.

Wei Ying looked devastated at her pain. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. There were so many people depending on me, I couldn't just leave. I thought you might be glad to be rid of me." The last part he said in a whisper and Wangji felt his blood turn to ice.

Who had made Wei Ying feel as though he wouldn't be missed? Wangj would kill them. Wei Ying was the best human being in the world and should never have to think otherwise.

Jiang Wanyin's face turned angry at those words. "What made you think that, huh? We mourned you! Jie would barely speak for months! She made an extra bowl of soup for you every time she made it! I still have your sword! It's hung in my room, though A-Niang wanted to destroy it."

Wei Ying looked down again. "Sorry." He murmured.

"Wei Ying. Stop apologizing. You did what you thought was best." Wangji tried to assure him, almost placing a hand on his arm, but refraining. Jiang Wanyin was there, and Wangji didn't want to create any awkward misunderstandings that Wei Ying would have to clear up.

Wei Ying smiled at him before turning back to his siblings. "If you don't want to see me anymore, I'd understand."

Jiang Yanli looked outraged at the suggestion, the first time Wangji had seen her angry. "How dare you say that, Wei Ying. We're family, and we've already lost you once."

Wei Ying slumped in relief. "Good. I missed you a lot. My lotus root and pork rib soup doesn't taste nearly as good as yours does, Shijie."

Jiang Yanli's eyes brightened. "You made my soup?"

"Every week," Wei Ying said with a smile. It was true, although Wangji had never realized its significance before.

"Wei Ying is incorrect," He stated, frowning at Wei Ying.

"What?" Wei Ying seemed confused by that.

"Your lotus root and pork rib soup is excellent." Wangji clarified.

"You have clearly never had my Shijie's soup, then," Wei Ying said with a raised eyebrow.

"You're coreless?" Ah. Wangji had forgotten that Meng Yao was there. He seemed shaky and shell-shocked by Wei Ying's story.

"Ah, er, yeah," Wei Ying didn't seem to want to talk about it, but before Wangji could change the subject himself, Zu Lanzi stepped in.

"It's nice to actually meet the infamous Jiang Yanli and Jiang Wanyin, I've heard a lot about you," She said, drawing the attention away from the subject of Wei Ying's lack of core.

Jiang Yanli's attention was successfully diverted. "Oh, you must be Zu-Guniang! It's an honor to meet you."

Jiang Wanyin nodded in greeting as Zu Lanzi drew them into conversation.

"Yaoyao, I'd prefer if we didn't talk about it much in front of them," Wei Ying whispered to him nervously. Meng Yao seemed to understand, nodding and turning back to the conversation. Zu Lanzi was animatedly retelling a night hunt she'd gone on with her wife recently.

"Would you like a tour around? You can meet your niece and nephews," Wei Ying offered when Zu Lanzi had finished her story.

Jiang Yanli gasped excitedly, and Jiang Wanyin cracked a real smile at that.

Zu Xia flounced in then, stopping short as she did a double-take between Wei Ying's unmasked face and the Jiangs.

"Don't look!" She exclaimed, running in front of Wei Ying, nobly covering his face.

"Xiao-Xia," Zu Lanzi sighed with fond exasperation. "It's okay, he's allowed them to see his face."

Zu Xia seemed to deflate with relief. "Oh, good. I was worried for a moment."

"This is my youngest daughter," Zu Lanzi explained to the Jiangs. "Zu Xia."

"Hello!" Zu Xia greeted them enthusiastically. "Who are you?"

"These are my marital siblings A-Xia," Wei Ying explained. "Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli."

"It's an honor to meet you," Zu Xia bowed again before bounding out of the room, presumably to find Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang or her sister.

"Let's go find our children then, shall we?" Wei Ying turned to Wangji with a mischievous smile as Wangji helped him to his feet.

Jiang Wanyin raised an eyebrow at that. "Our?"

"Lan Zhan adopted them when we got married," Wei Ying explained innocently, wincing as he stood.

"Wei Ying, you should rest," Wen Qing interjected, frowning at Wei Ying's wound.

"I will," Wei Ying promised. "Just let me introduce them to people for a bit? Please, Qing-Jie?"

Wen Qing blew out a dramatic breath. "Fine. You get half an hour."

"You're the best, Qing-Jie!" Wei Ying cheered, already halfway out the door with Wangji, his human crutch.

"Boys!" He called when they were all out of the Jingshi. "Come here, there are some people I want you to meet!"

Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang appeared out of nowhere at Wei Ying's summons, looking curiously at the Jiangs.

"These are my martial siblings, Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng!" He introduced them excitedly.

"It's very nice to meet you, ayi*, shushu*," Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang greeted them, falling into quiet conversation as Wei Ying looked for his smaller children.

"A-Yuan! A-Xiao! A-Qing!" He shouted, glancing around for the toddlers.

Wen Ning ran towards them, chasing down three overexcited toddlers making a beeline for Wei Ying.

"Baba!" A-Qing exclaimed, latching onto Wei Ying's leg, followed closely by her brothers.

"Qing-Gugu said that you were missing," A-Xiao stated, looking up at Wei Ying with big, sad eyes.

Wei Ying looked guilty as he apologized and assured them that he was fine.

"Promise not again," A-Yuan demanded, looking at both Wei Ying and Wangji.

"We promise baobei," Wei Ying swore, picking him up, as Wangji complied with A-Xiao's grabby hands and carried him as well.

"These are my martial siblings, your Shigu and Shishu." Wei Ying explained, gesturing to Jiang Yanli and Jiang Wanyin.

"A-Xian," Jiang Yanli said gently. "I know A-Niang was always insistent on formality with us, but we grew up together. If you wanted to refer to us as siblings, it would be okay."

Wei Ying's eyes welled with tears at that, and he passed A-Yuan to Wangji, who was now carrying two toddlers, so he could hug his sister.

"So, not Shigu and Shishu?" A-Qing asked.

"No, these are your Yanli-Gugu and Cheng-Shushu," Wei Ying corrected, taking A-Yuan back.

"Hi," A-Xiao waved from Wangji's arm.

"They're so adorable!" Jiang Yanli exclaimed. "Who's who?"

"This is A-Xiao," Wangji told her. "Wei Ying is holding A-Yuan, and A-Qing is the one hiding in my robes."

A-Qing looked up at the Jiangs suspiciously, clutching Wangji's robes. Very carefully, she walked over to Jiang Wanyin, staring him down with narrowed eyes.

Jiang Wanyin looked hilariously out of his depth, and incredibly intimidated by a four-year-old.

A-Qing apparently seemed to find him Uncle Material and raised her arms imperiously.

"What do I do?" Jiang Wanyin asked Wei Ying quietly, looking panicked.

"She wants up," Wei Ying whispered back, looking as though he might burst into laughter any moment. A-Yuan had been passed to his aunt and was watching Jiang Wanyin and A-Qing, not making any effort to hide his giggles.

"Cheng-Shushu," A-Qing frowned at him, stomping her foot. "UP."

"Jiang Wanyin picked her up clumsily, wide-eyed.

"She called me Cheng-Shushu," He murmured, seemingly shell-shocked by this.

"Well, yes," Wei Ying replied, raising an amused eyebrow. "You are their Cheng-Shushu."

"I'm an uncle," Jiang Wanyin said softly, adjusting his grip on A-Qing so she was more secure.

Wei Ying opened his mouth to respond when an unfamiliar woman walked up to them.

"Liu-Jie!" Wei Ying exclaimed, rushing to embrace her. "How have you been doing?"

Ah, so this was Liu Vian, Zu Lanzi's wife.

"It's good to see you as well, Wei-Didi. Is this Lan Wangji? I'd heard you got married." Liu Vian nodded her head towards Wangj as she talked.

"Mn," Wangji confirmed. "It's an honor to meet you, Liu-Guniang."

"Oh, please, call me Liu-Jie," Liu Vian smiled warmly at him, and Wangji was reminded of monthly visits to a secluded house where musical laughter and abundant smiles awaited him.

He nodded in response, doing his best to blink back tears without seeming like he was doing so.

"Oh, right, I came here to tell you that Meng Yao wants to hold a meeting about the attempted assassination now, so go to the medical tent," Liu Vian told them. "Also, Wen Qing told me to tell you that your half hour is up and to get your, uh, yourself back to the medical tent."

They started walking towards the medical tent, Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli fawning over the toddlers

Wangji helped Wei Ying into the bed as they got to the medical tent, despite Wei Ying's adamant protests that he could stand just fine (he had been using Wangji like a human crutch for the past hour he's been up)

"Alright," Meng Yao started, putting his hands on the table (where had he gotten a table??? Wangji thought idly). "Tell me again, both of you, exactly what happened."

"I was following the malevolent music, as the challenge dictated, and the one I was chasing seemed to be further into the forest than the others were, but I didn't think much of it. It must have been some lure music, as I couldn't think of anything other than following the music. It led me to a cloaked figure playing the guqin. I snapped out of it then, and another cloaked person attacked me with a knife while the guqin-player shot bolts of spiritual energy at me. It was well planned; I didn't have any access to unhappy corpses I could use to protect myself, but I eventually shattered the knife and pushed back the guqin player. That was when I got stabbed, though, and Lan Zhan showed up just in time to save me!" Wei Ying told them, smiling up at Wangji, who felt his heart melt even more than it already had been.

"I arrived just as a cloaked figure stabbed Wei Ying," Wangji started his part of the story. "I injured him in response, and went to Wei Ying to ensure he was still alive. Unfortunately, the person took that as an opportunity to burn themself, so I found no incriminating evidence on them."

"Well, I think we all know who was most likely behind this." Meng Yao said grimly.

"Jin Guangshan?" Jiang Yanli guessed bitterly.

Meng Yao nodded. "Wei Ying was right; this was well planned. Luring him away from his peers, with no access to spiritual energy—though they couldn't have known that—and limited resentment in the area, due to the location being near the Cloud Recesses, as well as several people tasked with ensuring his death. It would've been perfect if the communication talisman hadn't been in play."

"Communication talisman?" Jiang Wanyin looked up from his conversation with his niece and nephews. "I don't think I've heard of that one."

"Wei Ying invented it," Wangji informed him, earning shocked looks from both the Jiangs.

"You invented it? A-Xian, that's amazing!" Jiang Yanli exclaimed.

"That and about a hundred others," Wen Qing remarked.

"Wow, that's impressive," Jiang Wanyin said, his eyebrows raised.

"Have I died?" Wei Ying looked freaked out by the compliment. "Since when do you give me unsalty compliments?"

"Since you faked your death and made me think back on all my insult-disguised compliments." Jiang Wanyin said seriously, frowning. "Also, since you apparently became a genius."

"How long have you been creating your own talismans?" Jiang Yanli asked.

"Since I was around thirteen!" Wei Ying told her enthusiastically. "The first dozen or so weren't very good, and it took me a while to properly learn how to make them well, but it paid off!"

"Why didn't you show us any of them?" Jiang Yanli frowned, though she didn't seem upset with Wei Ying.

"Well, if Madam Yu had known I was a talisman genius, she would've flayed me." Wei Ying (hopefully) joked. Jiang Wanyin laughed with him, but Jiang Yanli looked troubled.

"Back to the matter at hand," Meng Yao reminded them. "This is clearly my father throwing a fit about being dethroned."

"Oh, wait, Wangji, tell them about the yao," Wen Qing interjected.

"The yao?" Zu Lanzi had been quiet so far, but she spoke up here, seemingly confused.

"I went to the Cold Springs last night to clear my head. A yao followed me and attempted to kill me. Thankfully, Wei Ying had dragged himself out of bed to follow me and saved me," Wangji told them. "You think this could've been another assassination attempt?"

"I'm sure of it," Meng Yao said firmly. "How else could a yao break through the wards of Gusu? And the fact that it targeted you specifically? Huge telltale."

Liu Vian pursed her lips. "What do we do about these assassins, though? It's not like we have concrete proof they're Jin Guangshan's, and he obviously has an inside man that's been carrying out the hits; he's already a heavily guarded prisoner of the Nie."

"Could Jin Zixuan be behind it?" Wen Qing asked cautiously.

Both Meng Yao and Jiang Yanli shook their heads. "He barely tolerated his father while he was Jin-Zhongzhu," Yanli told them. "He would never help him kill someone."

"Ugh, I forgot you're still arranged to marry The Peacock," Wei Ying groaned.

"Be nice, A-Xian, he's gotten much more gentlemanly in the past few years," Jiang Yanli chided him. "He's actually quite kind and respectful to me now."

"Well, that's something at least," Wei Ying grumbled. Wangji wanted to pat his shoulder in solidarity, but didn't dare with Jiang Wanyin there. (He had many questions about their apparent brotherhood)

"Well, as this seems to be going nowhere and Wei Ying needs his rest, I'm going to ask you all to leave the medical tent so Wei Ying can sleep," Wen Qing told them, making shooing motions with her hands.

"Qing-Jiieeee," Wei Ying complained, though he eagerly snuggled under the blankets.

"You should sleep as well, you were up for most of last night," Wen Qing ordered Wangji, ushering him outside. "Wei Ying will still be here when you wake up, I promise."

Wangji frowned, but complied, collecting his children and taking them to the Jingshi for family nap bonding, as their nap time was soon.

He wanted to stay awake, but found that as soon as he lay down, his eyes felt heavy, his limbs uncooperative.

He sighed as he finally gave in to the sweet embrace of sleep.

*Ayi and Shushu are respectful ways to refer to a woman or man older than the speaker

Did I end a chapter with LWJ falling asleep again? Yes. I'm tired and I may have hallucinated the things on my desk levitating for a moment, let me have this lol.

Sorry, this took longer, I didn't want to separate this chapter into two, and I wanted to finally have the assasination meeting, so you get an extra long chapter posted at one am! (Let's be honest, most of these are posted late at night for me. I think the one time I posted it at a reasonable hour was Chapter Four (?), which I posted around four pm.) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this!!! Have an amazing day!!!

[bubblegumdiesel]

did i die and go to heaven

Teach me to not love || L. HC (part 3)

𐙚 fuckboy!haechan x fem!reader (ft. best friend jaemin)

𐙚 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 + bonus epilogue

𐙚 synopsis- Jaemin's out for revenge after Haechan slept with the girl he liked. You're just supposed to be a distraction, something pretty to keep Haechan's mind off of what Jaemin was doing. He's cute, addictive- you should stay away... you really should, but when he touches you like that how are you supposed to remember what's right?

𐙚 genre- college au, smut/ porn with plot (MDN/ 18+), angst, slight fluff, second chance.

𐙚 warnings- alcohol use, black out, mentions of throwing up, sexual activity under the influence, fingering, masturbation, dry humping, markings, arguing, heartbreak, betrayal.

𐙚 W/c- 15k

Now playing: Exit Music (For A Film) - Radiohead

a/n- here it is, the finale. I want to thank you all for the support and I hope you liked it— let me know what you thought. Luv y’all, mwah mwah 💋

tags- @dnylwoo @haeclips @millis-diary @bbhbungee @sooohey @captainchrisstan @chocojiji @imnotrosiee @meatballsub420

══════════════════════════

Wednesday, a few days after he appeared.

Your mind was still spiraling— just a bit less now. You hadn't called him even though he told you to, it didn't feel right. Well, that and the fact that you were buried in projects, trying to keep yourself distracted, productive, anything but still.

You were sitting there, a little too idle now, having wrapped up your milestone for the day. 8:49 PM. You stared at the time for a moment, chewing at your bottom lip. A few more minutes passed like that. Fuck it. What could really go more wrong at this point?

You picked up your phone and clicked on his contact. It rang long, long enough for you to start regretting it. You were just about to hang up when his voice came through the speaker.

"Hello."

Your brows lifted, eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Oh— hello?" You said, the shock in your voice unmissable.

"Yo, wassup." He replied casually, his tone unreadable.

"Nothing, I'm just bored, y'know."

"Yeah, I feel you." A second passed. "Listen, sorry but I'm really really busy right now so I'll just hit you back later or something."

"Oh. Oh, okay." Your voice softened.

He hesitated for a second. "Oh, um— party tomorrow. You coming?" His words were quick, like he forced them out before changing his mind.

"I'll think about it. Kinda have a lot to do." You said honestly.

"Cool. Bye."

And just like that, he hung up. Alright then. It was the first time he'd picked up your call ever, so there was that at least. You didn't let yourself overthink it, just let it be.

The next night came quicker than expected. You finished everything you needed to do earlier than planned, you actually hadn't been this productive in a while. So, with little left to distract yourself, you went to the party.

You arrived, same scene, same crowd. Scanning for familiar faces, one in particular.

You found him quickly— but your smile dropped. There he was, same cocky grin, same glint in his eye, but this time he was standing with a girl too close... way too close. His arm lazily slung around her, leaning in, sharing sips from her drink.

Your stomach sank, breath turned shallow. Your body froze and burned all at once. Your thoughts scattered, unsure what to do, but before you could process anything your feet were already moving toward him.

"Um, hey." You said carefully.

He looked over, eyes changing when he saw you, but smile dropping. 

"Can we talk privately for a second?"

He exhaled dramatically, annoyed, but nodded. He followed you down the nearby hallway, away from the noise and attention.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice low but firm, eyes fixed on his.

"Chilling. Why are you being extra?" He snapped back.

"Why am I being extra?" Your voice lifted with disbelief. "You know what you're doing, you literally invited me. If this is still about what happened with your brother I told you I was sorry."

He scoffed. "First of all, I never invited you. I asked if you were coming and you said maybe. I didn't fucking beg you to show up tonight."

"Oh, but I'm 'always invited' right? That's what you said." Your voice cracked.

"Okay, Y/n." He said flatly.

"Okay? That's it?" You asked, hurt surfacing.

He sighed again and looked away briefly before turning back. "You know, honestly Y/n..." His tone shifted— colder. "I'm fucking bored with you, okay? I'm tired. I want something different tonight. Someone who doesn't make a big deal out of me not answering their calls. Someone who doesn't take everything so seriously and emotionally."

 He paused. "Someone who doesn't make me wear protection for casual, regular, simple sex."

You blinked, stunned as his words sank in.

"This is only about sex to you?" You asked quietly.

"Literally, yes. That's all it was ever supposed to be. We're not dating, we're not anything special. So just get over it."

His words stung like a slap. You stood frozen, chest tightening, breath catching as your mind scrambled to make sense of it.

"Get over it?" You questioned, voice shaky. "I can't believe you."

"Seriously, why are you surprised? You knew what you were getting into, you knew what this was— who I was. So yeah, get over it."

And just like that, he turned and walked away quickly, unapologetic, like none of it mattered.

You just stood there. The sting of his words burned beneath your skin. Your mind replayed it all— his kisses that felt too careful, the way he used to listen when you rambled like he cared. It didn't feel casual, it never did. You thought it meant something.

You should've left then. Should've gone out to your car and cried it out alone, but instead, you ended up in the kitchen, grabbing the nearest bottle, the biggest one. One shot became two, then three, then you chugging half the bottle while strangers  cheered like it was a show. You couldn't even hear them, everything blurred. 

You stumbled back down the hallway for a break, sliding against the wall until you hit the floor, bottle still in hand. You closed your eyes, maybe to stop the spinning, maybe to hold back tears, maybe both.

"Y/n?"

Your eyes fluttered open. You turned slowly to the voice.

"Jaemin? What the fuck?" You said, standing a little wobbly.

He stepped closer, a cautious steadiness in his eyes. "Can we talk?"

"You're fucked up." You replied.

"You're fucked up too. If we can still speak, we can talk." His voice was gentle, not defensive.

You looked at him for a long second, trying to focus through the fog before nodding. "Alright, talk."

He ran a hand through his hair, pausing before speaking. "Listen... I'm seriously sorry about everything I said to you."

"That all?" You mumbled.

"No." He said quickly. "I haven't been the best friend. I just... I wanted to keep you away from a guy like him. I know I wasn't always nice about it, but you didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve anything I said to you and I'm sorry. I love you, Y/n. I always have."

You smiled faintly. "It's cool."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but someone else's voice interrupted.

"There you are."

You both turned. It was the Mark guy from last time.

"Do you know where Haechan is bro?" He asked Jaemin.

Jaemin shook his head, lips in a tight line. "Naw."

Mark rolled his eyes slightly before pausing, turning to you. "What about you— do you know where he is?"

"Why would I know?" You questioned, laughing a bit. 

His brows furrowed slightly, confusion twisting his face. "You're like— his girl."

You paused for a second the word echoing in your mind 'his girl'. He didn't act like it, all that he said tonight and his friends are calling you his girl? Right. 

"Last time I seen him he was with a girl— he's probably fucking her." You said, the words coming out your mouth too easy, too bitter.

"Naw." Mark said, staring at the ceiling like he was thinking. "He wasn't with a girl when I saw him a few minutes ago. I don't know, I checked in his room, the backyard, everywhere— nothing. His car is still here though." 

He isn't with a girl? Since when. Your mind started racing again, trying to think as logically as you could in the state you were at right now. 

"I'm getting kind of worried." You said without thinking, eyes glossy.

"I'm sure he just took a car somewhere or something." Jaemin pipped in. 

Mark nodded in agreement, scratching his head, cursing slightly under his breath. 

"What do you need with him?" You asked, curiousity taking the best of you. 

"He has my blunt." Mark said in a sigh.

Jaemin chuckled lightly, honestly, more of a scoff. "Man, if you don't get the fuck on." He said, pushing Marks shoulder slightly.

"Shit, my bad. Didn't know it was that serious. Let me know if you see Haechan." Mark said, walking down the hallway, scratching the back of his head. 

You stared at him as he left, zoned out for a second too long before turning back. Jaemin's eyes were already on you— focused, something glinting in them.

"Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?" You asked, your words slurring slightly.

"Like what?" He replied, inching closer to you with casual ease that felt far too practiced.

"Like... that." You motioned vaguely, a tired, crooked smile tugging at your lips.

"I don't know." He said, smirking. "I guess I just missed you. Missed seeing your face, your eyes, your—" His gaze flicked down."...lips."

You just giggled lazily, your head falling back slightly as your eyelids drooped.

"You didn't miss me just a little bit?" He pressed, now standing directly in front of you, his expression filled with something light, teasing.

"What am I gonna do with you?" You murmured, shaking your head, half amused, half dazed.

"I've got a few suggestions." His voice dropped lower, smoother.

You opened your mouth to say something back, but then suddenly the room spun.

Your smile fell.

Everything hit at once, shutting your eyes, hand instinctively reaching for Jaemin to stay grounded.

"You okay?" He muttered, steadying you quickly. "Fuck— can you make it upstairs?"

You just nodded weakly as he wrapped your arm over his shoulder, raising you up. He guided you through the crowd, shielding you from the curious glances.

"Hang in there, I got you." He said, his breath a little rushed. He led you straight into the bathroom, flipping the toilet lid up and helping you kneel in front of it just in time.

"There you go, let it out." He said gently, one hand holding your hair, the other rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back as everything poured out of you.

You didn't say anything, just coughed, groaning softly, trying to breathe through the burn.

"I'll be right back, okay? Gonna grab you some water." He stood, hesitating for a moment, watching you slump against the wall before disappearing.

You sat there for a second, catching your breath. Once the spinning calm downed, you forced yourself up on shaky legs. You splashed cold water on your face with a washcloth, numbing your flushed skin. Your eyes found the bottle of mouthwash under the sink, and you took a quick swig, trying to rinse away the taste of shame and alcohol.

When Jaemin returned, he handed you a red cup of water and closed the door softly behind him.

"Thanks." You mumbled, taking a sip. The cold relief hit your throat like glass.

"You feeling any better?"

"Yeah." You nodded, slowly. "I just... I think I need to rest. I'll be okay after that."

"You drove here?" He asked.

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Then let me take you home. You can grab your car tomorrow."

"No, that's too much. I'm not leaving my car here." You said, waving a hand lazily. "I'll crash here a bit. I'll leave when I'm sober."

He stared at you like you just confessed a felony. "Y/n, that's a fucking terrible idea."

"Jaemin, seriously." You said firmly, cutting him off. "I'm not doing this with you tonight. I really don't have the energy."

He sighed, lips pressed into a tight line before nodding. "Alright. Just... text me when you get home. I wanna make sure you're alright."

"Noted." You gave him a soft, exhausted smile. "Thank you."

He lingered a second longer, like he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Then he left.

You pulled out your phone and shot Haechan a quick message— told him you were sick, asked if there was a room you could rest in, promised you'd be gone by morning... no reply.

You rolled your eyes, of course.

You made your way to his room anyway, tugging off your shoes and the uncomfortable pants digging into your waist. You sank into the bed, eyes shutting before your head even hit the pillow.

About an hour and a half later, your eyes snapped open.

Your chest rose quickly as you sat up, heart beating fast. You rubbed at your face, trying to blink the haze away. Everything still felt off— your body heavy, your mind foggy. You weren't even sure if it was just the alcohol anymore. You turned toward the nightstand, eyes catching on an unopened can sitting there, no label, no clue what it was. You picked it up, squinted at it, turning it in your hands.

The door creaked open.

"Was throwing up the first time not enough?"

Your head snapped up. Haechan.

You scoffed quietly, setting the can back on the nightstand without a word.

"Oh, you're ignoring me now?" He said as he stepped in, closing the door behind him and locking it.

You didn't look at him. "Your friends are looking for you." You said quietly, your voice flat. "You disappeared."

"They found me." He replied. "Was with my sister. The stupid fucker had my location."

He walked toward your side of the bed. "I got you some water." He said, placing a red solo cup down next to you.

Then, like nothing had happened, he sat at the edge of the bed and pulled his shirt over his head.

"Why are you acting like nothing happened?" You asked suddenly, voice cracking under the weight of your restraint.

He paused, head tilted slightly. "Huh?"

"Everything you said earlier. All that shit. You just walked away like it didn't matter."

He paused, then bent down, taking his shoes off. "Oh, that?" He said with a shrug. "Yeah, I changed my mind."

Your eyebrows shot up. "You changed your mind?"

"Didn't even fuck her." He added carelessly, like that erased it.

"I don't believe you." You said, voice cold.

He stood and began tugging off his pants. "Did you believe what I said earlier?"

You hesitated, then shook your head. "Honestly... I think I'm sober enough now. I'll just go."

You swung your legs off the bed, but the moment your feet hit the floor your body caved under its own weight.

"Yeah." He said quickly, pulling the blanket aside. "You're not going anywhere."

He settled beside you again comfortably... too comfortable.

"Just drink some water and chill. You'll be fine."

You didn't answer, you just turned your back to him, facing the wall.

"Are you really that mad at me?" He murmured, breath warm on your skin.

You didn't answer him, just exhaled irritated, flipping over onto your side, your back facing him. You rolled your eyes when you felt the bed dip as he moved closer, his chest pressing up against your back.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "C'mon." He murmured, coaxing. "You know I didn't mean it."

You scoffed, unmoved. "You know, you're the most exhausting person in the entire world."

"Yeah?" He replied lowly. His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, then drifted down to your neck, the touch barely there.

"Yeah." You snapped, though your voice was softer now. "And you're... you're the worst person I've ever met."

"I know." He whispered again, a little grin in his tone, like he liked the way you hated him, like he wanted to see how far you'd go before breaking.

His hand slid lower, trailing slowly down your torso. His fingers dipped under the waistband of your underwear, grazing the skin there before slipping inside.

You inhaled sharply as his fingertips brushed against your slickness, teasing your folds slowly. He pressed a kiss to your neck, hotter now.

"Wow." He breathed, lips dragging over your skin. "So wet."

You swallowed back a moan, breath hitching. "You really think you deserve to be fucked right now?" You murmured, voice low and shaky, but still sharp.

"I don't." He admitted softly, the words brushing against your skin. "But you do."

He flattened his tongue against your neck, licking a slow line up to your ear before whispering, "Use me."

That made you stop.

You turned your head slowly, facing him now. His eyes met yours, darker and glossier than before. He meant it, you could see it in the way his mouth parted, in the way his breath caught when your eyes locked.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, voice eager in a way it's never been before.

"Keep going." You said quietly.

He smiled, but it vanished the second he dipped his head, mouth devouring your neck again, lips,  tongue, and teeth dragging across your skin. His fingers moved more now, rubbing slow circles over your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance, just barely pushing in.

"I'll do whatever you want." He whispered, fingers still working you open. "Just tell me."

His mouth stayed on your neck, trailing open mouthed kisses, tongue dragging across the skin like he was trying to taste every sound you made. But it was his fingers that kept you gasping, pushing deeper now, curling perfectly inside you while his thumb rolled slow circles over your clit.

You arched into his hand. He groaned lowly against your throat, the sound muffled, almost like he was trying to stay quiet, but couldn't help himself.

His fingers fucked into you harder, knuckles brushing slick heat with every movement. You were so wet, your arousal coating his hand and sliding down your thighs, the sound of it filling the room.

You cried out when he slipped a third finger in without warning, stretching you wider. Your hand shot out, gripping at the sheets trying to ground yourself.

Your body jerked when his thumb pressed harder, rolling faster circles right over the spot that made you twitch. He felt the way you clenched around his fingers, and he didn't let up.

He fucked you with his fingers like he knew you better than you knew yourself. Like he wanted to pull every sound out of you, every reaction, until there was nothing left of your pride— just need.

He buried his face in your neck, teeth grazing your skin, breath hot as he kept moving his fingers inside you.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, your body tensing, even then his fingers didn't stop. They kept driving into you, rough and fast, curling just right inside you. He had you locked in place, your back flush to his chest, his other arm wrapped firm around your waist, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

You choked on a moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as your hips bucked.

"Fuck." You whimpered out.

Your whole body jerked, clenching around his fingers as you came with a loud cry. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as your orgasm hit you hard.

He didn't slow down, even as you finished, he kept fucking you with his fingers, your nails were digging into the sheets.

Your body fell against him, boneless, twitching slightly as the aftershocks rolled through you.

Your breath was still shaky, body still twitching, but something shifted in you. You turned in his grip, and before he could process it you pushed him back, flipping him onto his back with force that even surprised him.

He hit the mattress with a grunt, eyes wide, caught between confusion and anticipation.

He reached for your underwear, fingers sliding to the waistband like he thought he was still in control.

"No." You said flatly, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down against the bed. 

He blinked up at you, eyebrows raised. "Seriously?" He muttered, cocking his head. "You're gonna make me wait like that?"

You didn't answer. Instead, your grip tightening on his wrists. "Did I ask you to speak?"

His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. He stared up at you stunned. For once, he had nothing to say.

You released one wrist and tapped his cheek lightly. "Aw, look at that. You're doing good already, such a fast learner."

He didn't respond, just stared at you like he didn't recognize this version of you— and maybe he didn't. Maybe he never knew how far you could push him.

You slid your hips forward once, just enough for your soaked underwear to press against him— enough for him to feel how close you were, how warm you were, without giving him anything.

He gasped.

You froze immediately, smiling wider. "I barely even moved." You whispered, tilting your head. "And you're already gasping?"

His hands curled into fists against the sheets, his jaw flexing, trying to hold it in.

Too late.

You rolled your hips again slower, dragging yourself against him, the heat and friction driving him crazy. He let out a low groan, biting his lip, but the noise still slipped free.

You laughed softly. "That's pathetic." You said, voice silky. "Already whining like I've done something special."

He arched into you slightly, but you pressed your palm against his chest, holding him down.

You didn't give him time to recover.

Your hips started moving again, slow at first, rolling into him with that same cruel precision, but the moment you felt the way he twitched under you, the way his breath caught and his fingers tightened in the sheets, you picked up the pace, faster and rougher.

Your nails dug into his chest for balance as you rode him, hips snapping against his, your soaked underwear still pressed between you both, friction building unbearably fast. His eyes were locked on you now. His mouth parted in a soundless moan, like he couldn't even form words anymore.

You leaned in close, lips brushing his jaw without kissing him. "Feels good, doesn't it?" You whispered against his skin, your breath heavy. "Getting used like this."

He didn't answer, couldn't. He just whimpered and it only made you grind down harder, circling your hips once slowly before slamming down again.

You were close, too. You could feel it starting to burn low in your stomach, spreading fast. Your rhythm grew more erratic, desperate even, but you refused to lose control. You kept him pinned, your hand against his chest, pushing down hard.

He bucked his hips up, trying to match your movements, chasing it, gasping now. His hands flew up to grab at your waist like he needed something to hold onto. 

His mouth was moving, voice cracking. "Fuck, please, I'm gonna—"

You slammed your hips down harder, cutting him off, and he cried out. You could feel him trembling under you, his whole body tightening.

"Please let me come, fuck. I need it, I can't... I'm so close, please—"

You smirked through your own breathing. "You're begging now?" You murmured. "Look at you..."

He nodded, barely able to breathe, a wreck beneath you.

You were right there too, your body shaking with restraint, trying not to come first— trying to hold on long enough to decide if you were going to let him finish at all.

You didn't slow down. Not when his moans got louder, not when his hands clawed at your hips, not even when his head tipped back and his mouth dropped open with a gasp that sounded more like a sob.

You felt it— his whole body tensing beneath you, a sharp cry coming from his throat as he came in his boxers, hot and messy between your bodies. His thighs jerked uncontrollably, his chest heaving, hands gripping you tightly, but you didn't stop, you didn't even pause.

You kept moving, dragging your soaked heat against him through the aftermath of his high, hips grinding harder.

"Look at you." You murmured with a soft laugh. "Didn't even last, came in your fucking boxers like some desperate boy."

He whimpered under you, blinking up at you like he couldn't believe you were still moving.

You rolled your hips again slowly, and his whole body shuddered violently.

"Fuck— fuck, please." He gasped, voice shaking, louder now, eyes wide. "I can't, it's too much."

You grabbed his jaw, forcing his face back towards yours. "Then take it."

"Please, I can't. I'll come again— please stop, please."

But you didn't.

You kept going, eyes locked on his, breathing heavy. His moans turned to gasps, then to whines, his body twitching violently with every pass of your hips.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his voice cracking.

Your hips moved faster, and the more he squirmed under you, the louder he got, the harder you rode him. His boxers were soaked now— warm and sticky.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You said, head falling back as your movements became messier. 

Your body tensed, a choked moan coming from your throat as you reached your climax, your thighs trembling. And under you he was still squirming, overstimulated, but you stayed on him, letting the last shocks of your orgasm pulse through both of you.

You finally slowed, thighs trembling slightly as you lifted yourself off of him.

He looked ruined— flushed, hair a mess, his boxers soaked and sticking to him in the most humiliating way. His chest was still rising and falling hard, but as you sat beside him, a smile broke across his face.

"Shit." He exhaled, glancing over at you with a dazed grin. "That was... fuck, so good. Round two? Can we— can we actually fuck now?" He said, with faint left over arrogance.

You didn't say anything right away. You just stared at him, eyebrows slightly raised, lips parting like you were considering it. Then you tilted your head and gave him a look so cold, so dry, it silenced him instantly.

"Honestly?" You said. "You can go fuck yourself."

His smile dropped. "W— what?"

"You heard me." You leaned back, propping yourself on your elbows. "You can go fuck yourself."

He blinked clearly confused. "Wait— like... actually?"

You gave him a dark smile. "Right here. With me watching."

He stared, completely stunned.

"Well?" You asked. "I'm waiting."

He swallowed hard, then his hand started to move, slowly slipping beneath the waistband of his ruined boxers, his eyes locked on yours the whole time.

You didn't blink, didn't look away, you just leaned back fully, legs still slightly spread, gaze sharp as you watched him obey.

He was flushed, chest still heaving from everything you'd already done to him, and now here he was... obeying you, shame blooming across his face as he started to stroke himself.

You tilted your head, eyes fixed on the motion, the slick sounds already starting to fill the quiet space between you.

"God." You exhaled, voice low and amused. "Look at you."

His eyes flicked up to yours, like he was searching for something, permission, praise, maybe relief? Whatever it was, you weren't going to give it to him.

"Didn't even last five minutes, and you're already hard again?" You taunted. "You're actually pathetic."

His pace faltering for just a second before picking up again— faster this time, more desperate.

"Don't slow down." You warned, shifting slightly to spread your legs wider, giving him a full view as you sat back, one hand dragging down your inner thigh casually. 

He bit his lip, nodding quickly, his hand moving faster now, breathing turning shaky again. His eyes stayed locked on you, taking in the way you sat there, smug, but still a bit flushed from your own orgasm. Your presence alone had him falling apart again.

"You gonna come again just from your hand?" You whispered. "With me watching you like this?"

He let out a shaky gasp, his hips jerking upward slightly and you caught it instantly.

"Oh my god." You said, laughing softly. "You're gonna do it, aren't you? Finish like this all messy and pathetic with me just sitting here." You reached forward, dragging a single fingertip up the inside of his thigh, not touching him where he needed, just enough to make him twitch.

His whole body tensed again, a broken moan escaping his throat as his hand sped up, gasping, eyes locked on you like he needed your gaze just to fall apart.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—" He cried out, voice cracking.

You leaned in, lips nearly brushing his ear.

"Do it." You whispered.

His whole body tensed up, a loud whimper escaping his throat as he came for the second time.

You just watched, your legs spread lazily, one hand propping you up while the other dragged absentminded patterns against your inner thigh like you weren't even all that impressed, like he wasn't anything special.

"Aw. Was that hard for you?" You asked, voice filled with condescension. 

He didn't answer, couldn't. His lips parted like he might try, but nothing came out. Just a shaky exhale as he turned his head to look at you, face red, chest flushed, hands twitching slightly like he didn't know where to put them now.

"Twice in one night." You said, dragging your finger up your thigh again. "Didn't even need to touch you the second time." You said, laughing under your breath.

You stayed still for a moment longer, watching him breathe, his chest still rising hard. 

You tilted your head slightly. "Come here."

He didn't hesitate, just nodded, crawling forward slowly. His knees shifted across the mattress until he was right in front of you waiting, still caught in whatever trance you'd pulled him into.

You gave a soft sigh, pausing for a second, looking at him. "On second thought... I'm bored with you."

His face dropped slightly, eyes growing just a little wider, and his mouth opened like he didn't know if he'd heard you right.

"W— what?" He said, blinking fast. "No, no, wait, I can— I can make you not bored. Just tell me what to do, I'll do anything, really."

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You're really this desperate?" You said flatly. "For... casual, regular, simple sex?"

He paused, didn't answer right away. "I'm sorry." He said quickly, too quick. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean— I mean I just.. please, I didn't mean to make it feel like that. I didn't mean to ruin it—"

"Stop talking." You cut in. "I'm done with you."

His mouth hung open, chest still moving, eyes searching yours for any sign of mercy.

"Now please..." You said, voice dropping colder than ever. "Go shower, you're fucking disgusting."

He froze, letting out a faint exhale.

And then absurdly, he smiled. Just a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

He stood up slowly, and left the room without another word. You laid back down, flipping onto your side again, the exact same position you'd been in before all of it started, your lips curved up just slightly in a satisfied smile.

══════════════════════════

You woke up to the soft light filtering through the blinds. For a moment, you didn't know where you were, but sheets smelled faintly like him— distinctly Haechan. You blinked the haze out of your eyes, gradually sitting up.

Next to you, Haechan sat propped against the headboard, absently scrolling through his phone like it was any normal morning. You turned slightly, watching him for a second. He looked relaxed, completely unbothered, like last night never even happened.

"Oh, you're awake." He said, glancing over at you.

You didn't respond right away, just swung your legs off the side of the bed, grounding yourself with your hands in your lap as you stared down at the floor. Your head still felt slightly heavy, the remnants of everything from the night before pressing down on your chest.

"Um, you hungry?" He added, his tone light.

"I'll probably just pick up something on the way home." You muttered, about to stand.

"Wait—" He said quickly, sitting up straighter. "I can... I can just cook us something."

You shook your head gently, already pushing yourself to your feet. "You're good, I swear—"

"And I have to talk to you about something." He added, cutting you off mid sentence.

You froze.

A long moment of silence stretched before you gave in with a quiet sigh and nod, slowly settling back on the edge of the bed.

"Okay." You said simply.

He offered a faint smile before hopping up and leaving the room. "Okay, I'll call you when it's done."

Twenty minutes passed before he called your name from downstairs. You took your time going down, still slightly dazed, still unsure what exactly he had to say.

When you got to the kitchen, the table was set. He was already sitting down, looking up as you walked in.

"Wow." You said with a small smirk. "Didn't know you knew how to cook."

"Surprise." He said with a casual shrug.

 You took a bite of the food, eyebrows lifting slightly in approval.

"Good." You muttered, almost reluctantly.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." He grinned, but then: "Oh, what the fuck was that last night?"

You looked up, expecting to see his defenses up, ready to brush things off as a mistake. Instead, his face was lit up with amusement, a grin on his face, no shame.

You giggled, the corner of your mouth twitching. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" He echoed dramatically, setting down his fork. "I mean, how you acted. I've never tried anything like that before."

You tilted your head. "Did you like it?"

"Did I like it? I loved it." He said without hesitation. "I've always wanted to try something like that out before, but I just didn't really trust anyone like that. It just turned me off with other girls, you know? But you—"

He was rambling now, his words flowing fast and unfiltered. "We definitely have to do it again, I mean— if you were into it?"

You smiled faintly, but there was a heaviness sitting behind your eyes. "Oh, so you're not bored anymore, huh?" The words left your mouth before you could pull them back.

The atmosphere immediately changed. He stilled, the brightness in his face dimming as the sound of your fork scraping the plate echoed like thunder in the silence.

"That's what I have to talk to you about, actually." He said, voice low.

You nodded, waiting, watching him gather himself, but then a loud knock suddenly hit the front door.

Both of your heads turned.

He frowned slightly, standing from his chair and walking over. You exhaled slowly, your lips tightening into a strained expression when the door opened.

It was her— the girl from last night.

"Hey, cutie. I think I left my bra here, can I come in?" She said brightly, smiling at him like you didn't exist.

"It's not here." Haechan said, his voice noticeably hushed, like he hoped you couldn't hear.

"No, I'm sure it's here." She said, taking a step forward. "C'mon, let me just take a quick look. Won't take me long— unless you want it to be long."

You didn't have to see him to know he looked exhausted. "Make it quick." He muttered.

She walked in, eyes scanning the place like she owned it. She made a dramatic turn toward the stairs.

"You know it's not up there, so cut it out." Haechan called out, annoyed.

She giggled. "Oh right, silly me. I just figured you would've put it away for me after I left it. Didn't think you'd seriously leave it in the bathroom for anyone to pick up."

Your jaw clenched.

She spun around again, searching the room, and then her gaze landed on you, her smile widening.

"Oh my goodness, this must be your sister? Hi! You're so pretty!"

You scoffed, an actual scoff, sharp and disbelieving as you turned toward Haechan. His eyes were already on you, guilt written all over them.

She disappeared around the corner and returned moments later, holding a black lace bra between her fingers like a trophy. "Found it!" She said, beaming.

"Good, now get out." Haechan snapped.

"Aww, okay." She said playfully, heading for the door. "See you later, cutie."

"Right." His voice was hollow as he shut the door behind her with a loud slam.

Silence.

Then you stood up slowly, pushing your chair back.

"Y/n, I swear—" He started, voice low and cautious.

"Yeah." You said softly, turning towards the stairs.

"Fuck. Y/n, wait—" He reached for your wrist.

You yanked it back. "Get the fuck off of me."

"Can you just let me explain?" He pleaded.

"Let you explain what? Every time you explain, the story changes. There's nothing to explain!" Your voice cracked at the edges, anger and betrayal spilling out in equal measure.

"Look, I know how it looks, but I swear I didn't fuck her."

"Oh?" You scoffed. "Her bra just teleported into your bathroom and now nobody knows what happened? You knew exactly where it was."

"Yeah I know, but we didn't do anything." He insisted.

"So what— she took her bra off for shits and giggles?"

"Yeah." He said, voice shaky.

You just shook your head. "You're a fucking joke."

You walked past him, storming back into his room to grab your pants. He followed you, desperate.

"We didn't fuck, we didn't even kiss— you've gotta believe me."

"Well, I don't. How can I fucking believe you?" You shouted, your voice breaking now as you shoved your shoes on. "You're nothing but a sex addicted, sorry excuse for a human being, and you think I'm seriously gonna believe you?"

He stood there quietly, his chest rising and falling, then something in him snapped.

"Oh, I'm a sorry excuse for a human being?" He shouted. "All that shit you did a year ago and you're talking about me? Take a look at yourself. You run back, don't you? You don't believe me, but you still let me touch you last night, right?"

You stopped dead in your tracks, your whole face twisting, rage bubbling up in your throat.

"Fuck you." You spat, venom in your voice.

"Fuck you." He shot back, almost automatic.

You stormed up to him, eyes burning, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I loved you. I gave you chance after fucking chance and you still fucked it up. People like you will always be lonely, no matter how many girls you fuck or how many you break. No one wants to deal with you."

He didn't speak. His mouth opened slightly, but the words didn't come as his eyes glistened.

"I really thought— God, I really thought that somewhere in there, you had love. That you actually cared about something more than yourself, but you're just a selfish fucking prick."

He opened his mouth again. "Oh, I'm a selfish prick?" His voice cracked now, raised but not loud— just hurt.

"Yeah." You said bitterly. "And I give up, I'm done with you."

You turned and headed for the stairs. He followed again, footsteps frantic behind you.

"Done with me?" He scoffed. "Leave then. I don't give a fuck."

You were already crying as you hit the bottom of the stairs, rushing toward the door. Tears streamed down your face, but you didn't care.

"You're nothing but a body to me. You really think I care?" He called after you, the words landing like a slap.

You stopped cold, hand on the doorknob. Then turned back to look at him one last time.

"Fuck you, Haechan." You whispered through your tears. Then you yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind you, storming to your car without looking back.

The drive home was chaotic, your mind spiraling the entire way. Your grip on the steering wheel was tight. Everything blurred together: Haechan's voice, the girl's face, the slam of the door behind you, it rang in your ears long after you pulled into your driveway.

The second you stepped through the door, you headed straight for the shower. You didn't bother to undress carefully— your clothes were on the floor within seconds. The water was scalding, but you barely noticed. You stood there, letting it rush over you like it could wash away the ache, the sting in your throat from screaming and crying. You scrubbed until your skin was aching, but no matter how hard you tried, the weight inside your chest stayed exactly where it was.

After drying off and pulling on a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt, you dropped into bed, damp hair soaking into the pillow. You sat there in silence, the room was still... too still.

You didn't want to be alone— not right now. Your roommates were out, like always. You stared at the ceiling for a moment before biting your lip, reaching for your phone. Your fingers hesitated over your screen, but then instinct took over.

You dialed Jaemin.

It rang once... twice.

Then his voice. "About time I hear from you."

"Jaemin." Your voice cracked around his name, tears you thought were gone welling again.

"What's wrong?" His tone changed immediately. You could picture the way his brows furrowed, his whole face shifting into concern.

"Can you come?" Your voice was so small.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'll be there in... fifteen minutes." He paused, then sighed. "Thirty."

"Okay." You whispered.

Thirty five minutes later, a knock landed at your door.

You opened it slowly— and there he was standing with your favorite takeout in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other. His expression was soft, warm, like he was showing up for someone he deeply cared about, and he was.

Your lips wobbled, a pout forming as you tried to keep it together, but your chest caved in again.

"Oh my gosh..." You mumbled.

"Aw, poor baby." He stepped inside immediately, shutting the door behind him before pulling you into his arms.

The moment you buried your face in his chest, you broke. Your tears poured out, soaking his shirt as your fingers clutched at him like you'd drown if you let go. You stayed like that for a while— no words, just his hands gently rubbing your back, his chin resting on your head.

When you finally pulled away, a large wet patch stained his shirt.

"Damn, girl." He said with a soft laugh, tugging at the fabric and inspecting it.

"Sorry." You sniffled, letting out a half laugh through your sorrow.

"It's okay. C'mon, let's go to your room."

His hand settled on your back, guiding you down the hall.

You sat on the edge of your bed, eyes still swollen, nose stuffy, while he placed the food down and peeled off his shirt. He paused, looking down.

"Through the tank top too." He laughed, pulling that off as well.

That's when your eyes landed on his skin— and the faint outline of hickeys scattered across his chest and collarbone.

"Wow." You blinked, eyes widening.

His brows furrowed at first before realization hit him and he chuckled. "I could say the same thing to you." He murmured, walking toward you. His fingers gently ran along the markings on your neck, ghosts from the night before.

You hummed, a quiet sound in your throat as you looked up at him with a small smile.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened now?" He asked gently.

You looked down for a second, then back up at him. "I don't wanna talk about it. Can you just... stay?"

"Yeah, of course." His smile was soft, understanding.

You both climbed into bed. His arm rested around your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow circles into your arm. Your legs brushed under the blanket, your body gradually settling into the quiet comfort of his presence.

After a while, you turned to him. "Why did it take you so long to reach back out?"

He didn't look away. "I just wanted to give you space. I didn't wanna overstep. I figured when you were ready, you'd talk to me, but I couldn't wait anymore so I took the initiative."

"Oh." You nodded slowly, then turned to face him fully. "You really thought I'd reach out first after everything you said?"

He looked at you, guilt flickering across his features. "I realized how stupid that was."

"Mmm." You hummed softly.

Silence followed again. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head against his bare chest. His skin was warm against your cheek, the steady beat of his heart grounding you.

That's when the thoughts came back, rising fast.

"Bro... I don't know." You whispered into his chest. "I really thought he loved me."

His voice was gentle. "Yeah?"

"He acted like he did— sometimes." You said, pulling your head back to look up at him, your eyes glassy again. "I don't know why I'm even still crying over him."

"I understand." He said quietly. "I told you he was trouble."

"I know." You sighed. "I should've listened. Ugh— I really thought I could change him."

That made Jaemin chuckle softly.

"It's not funny." You muttered, swatting his chest lightly.

"I know, I know." He smiled, brushing your tears away with his thumb.

"Listen, it's over now." He murmured, hand sliding down your cheek to cup it softly. "And everything's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay, right?"

You groaned, turning your head away, but his fingers caught your chin and gently guided your face back to his.

"Okay?" He repeated.

You nodded, barely. "Okay."

The space between you changed. His eyes stayed on yours, soft but intense. His hand didn't leave your face and you didn't move either. You leaned in slightly, then stopped yourself.

"It's okay." He whispered, his voice low, his breath brushing against your lips. "Do it."

You hesitated again, but then he leaned in,  pausing just an inch away. "Or I will." He added, before finally closing the space.

His lips met yours gently at first, then deeper. You didn't pull away, you melted into him instead— his mouth, his touch, the comfort you hadn't known you needed. His hand slid behind your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss intensified, growing heavier with each second. His tongue slid into your mouth, slow but sure, as his hands roamed across your body, searching and warm.

Your phone buzzed beside you.

Neither of you paid attention.

He pushed you gently onto your back, settling over you. His lips trailed from your mouth to your cheek, then down your jaw.

Your phone rang.

You glanced over, blinking— and froze.

Haechan lit up the screen.

You closed your eyes, heart twisting, fingers tangling into your hair as Jaemin's lips moved across your neck, leaving kisses— soft at first, then rougher.

His mouth found a sensitive spot, and you gasped, your body reacting before your mind could keep up.

The phone rang again.

Then again.

You tried to ignore it, tried to stay in the moment, but the name flashing on the screen was too loud.

Jaemin kissed you again, lower now, but your mind was somewhere else.

The phone rang once more.

"Wait— wait." You interrupted, breath catching as your eyes snapped open.

Jaemin pulled back immediately, eyes wide with concern as he sat up. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You replied quickly, trying to steady your breathing. "I'm just— my phone's blowing up, and I'm really distracted and like..." You paused, pressing your lips together before biting down on the bottom one. "Sorry, can we just... do this later?"

His expression softened, cheeks still a little flushed. "Of course." He said gently, offering a small smile. "You don't have to be sorry."

You exhaled slowly, sitting up further and grabbing for your phone. "Who's blowing up your phone?" Jaemin asked, shifting beside you, propping himself on an elbow.

You thumbed through the notifications, scanning them from the bottom. "Spam." You muttered, dismissing a message from an unknown number.

"And... Haechan." You added, your voice quieting. You turned your phone toward Jaemin. "Four missed calls, two voicemails."

Jaemin scoffed, his jaw tensing slightly. "When did he get so fucking desperate?"

You shrugged, trying not to let the knot in your chest twist tighter, but something poked at you— nagging and insistent. "I never asked." You said, turning to him with a squint. "But... how do you even know this guy?"

"Oh." He said, blinking like he hadn't expected the question. "I met him last year. We had a class together, I don't know how he was a junior and I was a freshman, but hey. I started hanging out with his friend group, got super close, and that's it."

"So you're close?" You asked, head tilting.

"Yeah, something like that." He said, casually shrugging.

"Mmm." You hummed in response, nodding slowly. Then your thumb hovered over the voicemails. "Do you wanna listen to the voicemails with me?"

You tried to play it off with a smile, but truthfully your heart was racing. You were going to listen to them anyway— you just didn't want to be alone when you did.

Jaemin leaned back, resting against the headboard. "Sure, sweetums. Whatever makes you happy."

You gave a faint laugh, then opened the phone app and turned your volume all the way up. The first voicemail clicked on.

For a second, there was only heavy breathing, then his voice burst through the speaker— shaky, broken.

"Now you can't answer the fucking phone, huh? I know you see my calls, Y/n."

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you and Jaemin froze, listening.

"I fucking loved you— I love you, and you're just gonna walk out on me like I'm nothing? You're nothing—"

His voice cracked, like he was barely holding back tears.

"I'm gonna kill him." Jaemin shook his head in disbelief.

"Shh." You cut in quickly, swatting at his arm, your eyes not moving from the phone.

"I— and you're probably with Jaemin right now, aren't you?" Haechan's voice rasped.

You glanced at Jaemin with a twitch of a smile, but it dropped instantly.

"Like he isn't the cause of all this— like he didn't set this whole thing up. Yeah, bet you didn't know that, did you? That little jealous, selfish fucker. Trying to take you away from everyone, but can't even love you himself. And you're there? With him? Pitiful."

The room dropped into silence, tension thick enough to choke on.

You turned to Jaemin slowly, your expression tight, unsettled. "What the fuck is he talking about, Jaemin?"

His eyes stayed on yours, but something darker lingered in his gaze now. "He's lying."

"He's lying?" You echoed, brows furrowing. "Yeah, well it doesn't sound like he's lying."

"He's fucking lying to you, Y/n." Jaemin said firmly.

You shook your head, struggling to breathe evenly. "Why would he— he wouldn't— why would he say that though? Of all things, why that? He has no reason to lie... not about you. He doesn't even know what you are to me, he doesn't know we're this close, he probably doesn't know we even know each other."

"You're really about to question me right now?" Jaemin asked, voice rising with disbelief.

"I just don't know why he would say that." You admitted, voice cracking, hands shaking slightly as you stared down at your phone.

Then, something sparked in the back of your mind— the unknown number from earlier. You'd thought it was spam, but the area code was local, and something about it gnawed at you now.

"He's lying to you. You're seriously gonna let him shake you up like this—"

"Just shut the fuck up for a second, Jaemin. Please." Your tone was urgent, as you unlocked your phone and opened the text.

Unknown [4:28 PM]:

"Hey girly. Sorry to text you like this, I'm the one who left her bra at Haechan's house and I'm sorry about that. I didn't know stuff was serious between you two or that I was wrecking anything. I was completely left in the dark... I would never purposely do that. I was told you were just one of his hookups. Me and him never even fucked— he rejected me and left. I left my bra there on purpose so I could come back, just in case you were there in the morning. I hope this clears everything up. I'm sorry for the mess we caused."

You stared at the message, heart thudding.

You [4:48 PM]:

"Who's "we"?"

She replied instantly.

Unknown [4:50 PM]:

"Jaemin. That asshole. He knew I liked him, and he told me to be all up on Haechan, to try to hook up. Told me to leave my shit there so I could come back if the girl (you?) was still there in the morning. He described your car, said to be as annoying as possible. Told me he'd get with me if I did and I was stupid and believed him. We met up earlier today, he got head and left. Said 'this was fun' but he had to go. So fucking sick of men lol. Sorry again girl, I hope you get everything sorted out."

Your entire body went cold. Your hands trembled as you read the message once... then again.

"Jaemin." Your voice was flat now as you turned to him slowly. "The girl just told me what you did."

He rolled his eyes. "Great, now he's got a bitch lying on me too."

"You really believe that?" He added. "You believe them over your best friend?"

"I don't know what to believe right now." You said, breath unsteady. "But all I know is that Haechan would not go this far to lie...  about you."

"Right, okay." He scoffed, shaking his head. "This dude broke your heart a million times, fucked a girl, had her pop up outta nowhere with a literal bra as evidence, and you believe him over me? After everything? I've always had your back. Yeah, I fucked up once or twice, but I always looked out for you— and you're really gonna believe them?"

You opened your mouth to respond, to agree with him, honestly, but then something snapped into place.

Your eyes narrowed. "How the fuck did you know that?"

Jaemin blinked. "Know what?"

"How did you know that she left her bra?" You repeated, voice rising. "I never told you that. So how do you know?"

His silence was immediate.

"How do you know, Jaemin!?" You sat up in the bed, your voice cracked and full of betrayal.

He let out a sharp breath, a bitter laugh escaping his throat. "Shit."

Your eyes welled up, you couldn't believe this. "It's you." You whispered.

"Y/n—"

"It's been you." You said, more firmly now, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Will you just relax." He muttered, calm in a way that only made it worse.

You stared at him, stunned. "Relax? You tried sabotage my relationship."

"You weren't together. So I didn't do anything." He said flatly.

"I loved him." Your voice trembled as tears filled your eyes. "I actually loved him and  you ruined us— you ruined me."

"I ruined you?" He said with wide eyes, voice incredulous. "That's not how I remember it. I remember saving you. Keeping you from drinking too much, from drugs, from dying, but I ruined you?"

"Yeah." You said, voice sharp through the sob in your throat. "You're the reason."

He scoffed again. "I protected you. I was knocking out obstacles. Look what happened with the last guy, you healed when you were with me. You didn't need him, and you don't need Haechan either. As long as I'm here, you'll be fine, you'll have someone who actually loves you."

"You rejected me." You said, your voice a whisper.

"Yeah?" He shrugged, unmoved. "But I want you now, so..."

You froze. A single tear slipped down your cheek and you wiped it away with shaking fingers.

"You... you want me now?" You said with a bitter laugh.

"Mhm." He nodded. "Not like you haven't chosen me before. Do it again. e can be together."

Your jaw clenched. "I don't want to be with you."

His expression dropped, his eyes finally showing emotion.

"I don't want to see you again." You said, standing up. "I don't even want to know you."

"Wow. After everything I've done for you?" He snapped.

"Get out." Your voice cracked through the air.

"Seriously?"

"Get your shit and leave— now." You pointed to the door.

He scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Let's see how long until you come crawling back."

You stood there, arms crossed, chest aching as you watched him gather his things, not saying another word, and when the door slammed shut behind him, you didn't cry. You just stood there in the silence, your thoughts racing like a storm you couldn't outrun, crashing into each other with no direction. 

You paced around your room, feet dragging over the floor like they couldn't decide where to go next. Then your eyes landed on the flowers and takeout bag sitting on your dresser— Jaemin's "comfort gifts" a gesture that now felt so calculated.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed them both with trembling hands and marched to the trash can, shoving them inside like they were toxic. The flowers crumpled, petals breaking beneath your force. The food spilled open, untouched, as the bag collapsed into the bin. You stood over it, chest rising and falling, arms tense at your sides.

That's when you realized tears were falling now. They slipped quietly down your cheeks, and you didn't even feel them until they hit your lips. You wiped them away hastily with the back of your hand, sniffing hard as you made your way back to your room, sitting down slowly on your bed. 

You grabbed your phone, thumb hesitating over the screen before you tapped back into the voicemail from earlier. You played it again, letting Haechan's broken voice echo through the room, analyzing every syllable, every pause, hoping— desperately hoping that you'd catch something off, something that would prove he was lying, that Jaemin hadn't been the villain after all.

But deep down, you knew.

You weren't looking for the truth, you were just looking for something to hold onto.

Your eyes drifted to the second voicemail— the one you hadn't played yet. It sat there like a wound you hadn't touched. You stared at it, your thumb hovering over the play button, part of you wanted to delete it, let it die in the silence, move on.

You needed to, you knew that. It was the healthy thing to do.

But your heart didn't want clean, it wanted closure, connection. Something... anything, to explain why this all hurt so much.

You took a deep shaky breath, then hit play. There was silence at first like the last, then his voice— rough and cracked, the sound of someone unraveling.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do, Y/n. I really don't."

You blinked, heart already pulling tight.

"I didn't do anything— I didn't do anything with her. Can you just come back and I'll explain everything, I swear. Just please... come back. Fuck, please, I love you. I'm sorry, I do. Just come back."

A pause. You could hear the faint clatter of something in the background. Then... a breathless, broken sob.

"Come back."

The voicemail ended, but the silence afterward felt louder. You sat there for a long moment, your mind numb, your heart in your throat. You swung your legs off the bed, planting your feet on the ground, tapping one nervously against the floor as your hand curled into a fist. You bit down on your lip, hard, then stood. You didn't even grab a jacket, you just grabbed your keys and walked out the door.

The drive was a blur.

Your thoughts were spinning too fast to keep up. What were you doing? What were you expecting? Maybe he wasn't even home anymore, maybe he'd already moved on or maybe— maybe this was you being weak.

But still, you kept going.

When you got to his place, you knocked. Once... twice, then harder— nothing.

You waited another moment before pulling out your phone and dialing his number. No answer, your fingers hovered over the doorknob. You hesitated, then tried it and it was unlocked.

"Haechan?" You called softly, peeking your head inside.

No answer.

You were ready to walk away. You were so close, so close to leaving it all behind, but then your eyes landed on the full sized bottle sitting open on the counter, almost empty.

You stepped inside cautiously, shutting the door behind you. "Haechan?"

No response.

Your fingers tightened around the bottle as you picked it up, eyes narrowing in worry. Something didn't feel right. The air was still, too still. You moved through the kitchen, then slowly up the stairs, calling his name again, voice low but urgent.

You checked the bathroom, empty. Then you turned to his bedroom— and your heart stopped.

He was there, sprawled across his bed, deathly pale. One hand rested limply on his stomach, the other clutched his phone, your contact still lit up on the screen. On the nightstand beside him sat another half drained bottle of liquor.

"Shit." You whispered, rushing over.

You dropped to your knees beside the bed, pressing your hand to his cheek... ice cold.

Your panic surged, but you quickly placed two fingers against his neck. There it was, a pulse. Weak, but steady.

You exhaled, body trembling in relief. "Jesus." You muttered, rubbing your temples as you looked around the room. You reached for the trash can, dragging it beside the bed in case he threw up, turning his body to the side. Then you grabbed the bottle from the nightstand and carried it downstairs, pouring what was left into the sink.

You filled a glass with water, your hands shaking slightly as you brought it back upstairs and set it down beside him. You watched him for a second, debating. You should probably go, he wouldn't even remember this, but as you looked at him—his lashes resting softly on pale cheeks, his chest rising and falling slowly, the phone still gripped in his hand, your feet didn't move. You sat on the edge of his bed, scrolling through your phone, not even seeing the screen. You stayed there, just... watching him, listening for changes in his breathing, checking to make sure he didn't roll onto his back again or get sick.

Eventually, your body gave in to the weight of the night. You curled beside him, not too close, but close enough, eyes slowly beginning to drift shut.

Your eyes opened slowly, a low throb at your temples as you blinked through the dim room. It was dark, the soft hum of the ceiling fan above breaking the stillness. You glanced at your phone. 1:02 a.m.

You sighed, sitting up carefully. The air in the room was heavy and quiet, your body aching in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. You rubbed at your eyes, brushing away the fuzz, and glanced over at Haechan.

He was still knocked out, body sprawled carelessly across the bed. You noticed the empty water glass on the nightstand, then the trash can beside the bed— once empty, now not. You scrunched your nose at the smell, stepping past it and picking up the glass quietly.

You hadn't even heard him get sick.

Downstairs the faucet's low pressure fell into the cup. You stood in the kitchen in silence, the chilled water settling in the glass as you stared out the window. When you returned and placed the glass down beside him, his voice cut softly through the quiet: "Thank you."

You jumped, not expecting him to be awake.

He was lying there, eyes open now, watching you with a mixture of exhaustion and something else.

"Mmm." You hummed in response, brushing it off with a nod. You turned away without another word and headed for the door.

"Your stomach's been growling all night." He said behind you, voice low but casual.

You paused, half smiling bitterly. "Yeah." You murmured, then kept walking.

"You wanna get some food? We could go downtown or something."

You stopped again, letting out a slow, heavy breath. "Kinda far, I'll probably just hit a late night diner."

"Let me take you." He offered.

That was it. You turned, already irritated. "You really think I'm gonna let you drive me anywhere after the state I found you in tonight?" Before he could answer, your voice cut sharper. "That means no, you cannot take me."

He hesitated, eyes flickering down, before looking back up. "Can I come with you then?"

You stared at him, unblinking. "You just don't give up, do you?"

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You wanna talk, don't you? Why else would you be here?"

"Not over food. So there's no reason for you to come."

He didn't respond, just gave you that look— soft.

You rolled your eyes and exhaled. "Fine, come on."

The car ride was dead silent. The glow of the streetlights washed over both of you, passing over your face like waves. You stared straight ahead, gripping the wheel, jaw tight. When you pulled into the diner parking lot, the familiarity hit like a punch to the chest. You didn't know why it stung— maybe because you'd sat here before with Jaemin, laughing, maybe because it used to feel warm. Now it just felt like a graveyard of memories.

You walked in, Haechan following behind. At the counter, the cashier's eyes flicked between the two of you.

"Is it separate or together?" She asked.

"Separate—" You started, but was cut off.

"Together." Haechan said quickly, pulling out his wallet without even glancing at you.

You looked at him coldly, then turned back. "Tenders and fries, please."

The cashier nodded. You walked away without waiting for him and slid into the booth by the window, arms crossing over your chest as you stared out into the parking lot. Your fingers fiddled with the napkin dispenser, anything to avoid thinking about the seat across from you— the one Jaemin had used to sit in.

Eventually, Haechan made his way over, setting two drinks down and sliding one across to you. You didn't look up, just took a sip.

"Look." He began, voice careful. "I know it's a lot right now, but—"

"You need help." You cut him off sharply. "I seriously thought you were dead."

He blinked, surprised at the force of your words. You looked up for the first time, and the look in your eyes stopped him mid thought.

"I didn't even drink that much." He said, trying to justify it.

"If I didn't come, you would've been gone." Your voice cracked slightly. "You were on your back when I found you, you could've choked on your own vomit."

His expression softened. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"Don't apologize to me. Get help."

He went quiet, then his brows furrowed slightly. "Are you sober?"

You shot him a warning look, eyes narrowing. 

He swallowed hard, nodding. "I'm— I'm gonna go get the food." He slid out of the booth and walked away, his eyes lingering on you until the last second.

When he returned, he set the tray down gently. You didn't speak— you just picked up a tender and took a bite, the warmth immediately grounding you. Your shoulders relaxed slightly, the food didn't solve anything, but it filled the aching pit in your stomach you didn't realize had formed. You ate quickly, staring at the plate the whole time. When you looked up, Haechan was staring.

"What?" You asked.

"Nothing." He smiled. "You just... look like you feel better. You were definitely hangry."

You shook your head, almost laughing through your nose, he wasn't wrong. Hunger mixed with betrayal and heartbreak made a vile combo.

"I just can't believe this. Why is this happening to me?" You said softly. You paused, staring into your cup. "He was my best friend."

Haechan nodded. "Yeah, I understand."

You looked at him suspiciously. His words felt... rehearsed, familiar, like they weren't really his.

"Are you hiding anything from me?" You asked, eyes locked on him.

He avoided your gaze. "You said you didn't want to talk over food."

You nodded slowly... that was not a no.

Once the meal was over, you got back in the car.

"Can we make a stop? Please?" He asked before you pulled off.

"Haechan—"

"Please." He said again. "It's not far."

You sighed heavily and handed him your phone. He typed in the destination quietly.

The drive wasn't long, but the confusion in your chest grew stronger with every mile.

You pulled into a small, empty parking lot surrounded by nothing but open land. Before you could ask questions, he was already getting out of the car.

"C'mon." He said, walking around to your side.

You followed slowly, suspicious but curious. He took your hand gently, guiding you down a gravel path, and there it was.

A glowing rose garden, soft lights woven around the path like stars had melted into the earth and at the end sat a single bench facing the sea of red.

You froze, heart twisting. It should've been beautiful— romantic even, but all you felt was suspicion.

The flowers, the food, the timing. It was all too perfect... too planned.

"Why are we here?" You asked, voice low and guarded.

He turned to you. "You said red calms you down... so I thought it would be the best place for us to talk."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the heat in your eyes. You nodded once, quietly, and sat beside him. Your hands folded in your lap, your gaze locked on the roses.

"How much did he tell you— what did he tell you?" Haechan said, voice steady.

You didn't answer at first, you just turned your head toward him, eyes heavy with exhaustion— not just from the night, but from everything. The silence was answer enough.

He nodded slowly, inhaling through his nose. "Okay." He said, the word landing like a weight. "I'll just start from the very beginning."

You turned back toward the glowing field of red, letting the gentle sway of the roses distract your thoughts as you waited.

"I guess this whole thing started the third time you came to one of my parties— when he tried to get revenge on me through my sister."

You turned your head, surprised. "You knew about that?"

He gave a dry chuckle, his gaze lowered. "Yeah, I'm not stupid. I figured it out the second time, it didn't take much."

You just nodded, letting him continue.

"I confronted him about it, kind of threatened him, I guess, but I wasn't really worried about him and my sister. I was more worried about you. I was... interested, wanted to know more about you, but I didn't have your number and nobody seemed to know much, except Jaemin."

He shifted slightly beside you, hands in his lap.

"So I told him to bring you again. He got weird— defensive even. Kept saying it wasn't a good idea. Seemed like he was genuinely trying to protect you, but I didn't care. I told him it was gonna be a problem if he didn't, and next thing I knew, you showed up again." He shrugged faintly.

You blinked slowly, jaw clenched. A lot of the missing pieces were starting to surface now, things that once seemed random now had weight.

"That's when we started to get close and he started to distance himself from me. I figured he was still wrapped up in the whole thing with my sister. He probably thought I'd flip out or get hurt, but I didn't care. He thought I would... but I didn't." He gave a bitter laugh. "I knew my sister, I knew she'd never really fall for someone like him."

You stayed quiet, your arms folded tightly against yourself.

"Then that one night— where I was really fucked up and you were there... I don't remember much, but I remember waking up and holding you. And I panicked, I kicked you out because I didn't know how to process it, I've never felt that way before. So I sat on it for a while and ended up telling my friends, including Jaemin, that I liked you— that I thought I was ready for something real."

Your breath caught slightly in your chest. You turned to face him again, eyes wide and glassy. He liked you, he had wanted something real. You thought you would never hear those words from him. Your heart clenched as your gaze slowly fell away again, back to the roses.

"It took a lot of growth for me to get there." He continued. "I'd been through so much shit— things that made me feel like I wasn't capable of love. My friends knew that, they were happy for me. All of them, except Jaemin. He just... went cold, looked almost sad."

Haechan's voice lowered, like he was reliving it. "I asked him what was wrong. That's when he told me— told me that you were the one who hurt my brother badly. I didn't believe him at first, but then he showed me the picture."

Your jaw clenched instantly. Of course.  Jaemin was the only one who had it, you should've questioned how Haechan ever got it, but you hadn't. You didn't think you needed to.

"I felt like everything shattered at once." He said quietly. "Everyone just stared at me. They knew how bad that whole situation with my brother had been, it broke me. So I panicked, I called you over to confront you. But I didn't know how to handle it— I was overwhelmed, scared you might hurt me the same way, so I lashed out. I hated myself for it right after. I felt ashamed, like I could never get things right. So I told you not to talk, not yet, because I needed to think."

He let out a long sigh. "I ended up talking to my brother. Told him about you, about how I felt. And you know what he said? He told me to do whatever felt right, that he didn't care about the past, that he wouldn't stand in the way just because of what happened before, that he wasn't gonna cockblock me over something that was done."

He chuckled softly, almost with disbelief. "God, I love him."

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat.

"After that, I started thinking again, really thinking, and then I realized something didn't sit right. Like... why didn't Jaemin tell me this before? He's known my brother so long, if he knew about what happened, why wait until now?"

You bit your lip, voice low. "He probably didn't think it mattered. Thought I wouldn't fall for you."

Haechan nodded slowly. "Yeah, exactly." He shook his head. "None of it added up. That's when I knew— I had to hear your side for real this time. So I texted you, I wasn't sure if you'd even reply. I could tell you were checking out, but you did and when I came over and you told me everything... it clicked." His voice softened.

"It was not you that was problem with my brother, at least not the after math, it was Jaemin. He took you when you were most vulnerable, and he manipulated you, he manipulated you and hurt my brother while doing so."

You stared ahead, the numbness seeping back in. A slow burning cold spread through your chest. He was right, that's all Jaemin ever did. Took what he needed when he needed it, made you feel like something valuable— until he didn't. 

"I confronted him a few days later." Haechan went on, voice bitter now. "I was about to beat the shit out of him, honestly. My friends held me back. I told him straight up that I was going to be with you, and there was nothing he could do to stop me."

He paused, jaw clenched.

"That's when he threatened me. Said he had nudes of my sister, and he'd expose them if I didn't back off. I didn't know if it was true, but I was terrified. He already hurt one of my siblings— I wasn't about to risk another."

Your hand trembled slightly in your lap, but you said nothing.

"Then you called. Of course, perfect timing. He told me to answer, told me to invite you to the party. Said we were gonna make sure you left for good and made up some big plan— some twisted scenario where I'd hurt you, make it so bad you'd never come back. I told him you wouldn't come, but I think... deep down I knew you would. I prayed you wouldn't, but I knew you would."

His voice cracked slightly.

"I called my sister after, desperate for clarity, but she was on some trip with no data, I was alone in it. Then you walked in and everything fell apart. I couldn't stop anything, I didn't know what to do, there was nothing I could do. So I disappeared to the bathroom, that girl followed me, started undressing— I wasn't into it. And then finally my sister called back and came to pick me up so we could talk in person at her place. She said she had never sent Jaemin anything. He was bluffing, just buying time and I'd let him."

He ran a hand through his hair.

The memories from the night flooded in, seeing them together, Jaemin slipping in and apologizing out of nowhere, his friends looking for him and saying he wasn't with a girl. 

"I was gonna confront him again. Do worse this time, but you texted me... you needed a place to crash and I realized, that was it. That was my chance, I needed to be there for you, not focus on him."

You swallowed hard.

"I wanted to tell you everything that night." He said. "But you were out of it, I just needed to keep you there till morning, and when I was finally about to explain... she showed up and it ruined everything. I knew it was Jaemin, but before I got the chance you started leaving and saying all that stuff to me. I panicked again, said things I didn't mean. I didn't even know why, I just wanted to hurt you before you could hurt me anymore."

"She came back later. " He continued. "Crying, saying Jaemin ghosted her. I gave her your number, told her to tell you what she told me. I didn't know if you'd believe it, I just... hoped. I started calling you, figured you were with him and the next thing I knew... I blacked out and that's it."

Silence.

You stared at the roses, their soft red glow blurring in your vision. You felt raw, carved out.

"You okay?" He asked, gently placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it with slow comfort.

You didn't answer. Just sat in the silence, letting the hum of the wind and the ache of everything fill the space.

Then finally, you whispered: "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" He asked.

"When you said you love me."

He paused, looking away, then back again. "I think so." He said honestly. "I can't stop thinking about you, I only want you. That... feels like love to me."

You parted your lips, about to speak, but stopped. You sat with it, with everything.

"Haechan, I know most of this isn't your fault, but you've never really treated me well. You've made me feel like shit about myself. Like I deserved this, and I don't."

"You don't." He said quickly. "I know you don't. I just... I don't know how to do this, Y/n. I'm trying."

"I know." You whispered. "And I get that. But you're not a child, Haechan. I can't keep sitting here, waiting for you to figure it out while I bleed for it. I'm tired and I'm hurt."

His eyes glistened under the low lights, lips slightly parted.

"Yeah." He said, voice tight. "Okay, I get it."

Minutes passed in silence again. You took a deep breath. "I'm ready to go now."

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

Back in the car, the drive to his house was quiet again. He didn't get out right away. He looked at you, something fragile in his expression.

"I'm just gonna give you space, okay?" He said. "Tell me when you want to be near me again. Just come over... I'll be here. Waiting."

You nodded. "Okay."

He offered a small, sad smile, then got out and closed the door behind him. And you just sat there, still, the glow of the roses lingering in your mind like a memory you weren't sure was real.

When you got home that night, everything crashed down on you. The silence in your room was deafening, your thoughts tangled and felt heavy like they were weighing on your chest. Nothing felt real, and everything felt like too much. You sat on the edge of your bed, running your hands through your hair, heart pounding in your ears.

You needed out. Out of this town, out of yourself.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your laptop and stayed up the entire night researching— flights, hotels, long stays, trains, trails, anywhere with space to breathe. By morning, your eyes were bloodshot and your screen was filled with confirmation emails. You were going, it was done.

══════════════════════════

One week passed. It was quiet, almost suspiciously so. You packed everything you needed into the back of your car— luggage tucked neatly, passport ready, playlist queued. There was only one stop left before the airport.

You pulled into the familiar street, parking in front of his house. It looked the same— quiet, still, like the world didn't know everything that had happened inside it. You stepped out, the air thick and warm, and walked up the steps. Your knuckles hesitated before they knocked softly.

He opened the door after a few seconds, hair tousled like he'd just woken up. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. There was surprise there, but not disbelief.

"Okay... I didn't expect it to be this soon." His voice was soft.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head as you stepped inside, the faint scent of him still lingering in the air.

"I'm going abroad for a bit." You said it casually, looking around the space like it was already behind you.

"What's... 'a bit'?" He asked, his voice hesitant.

"A month, maybe two, possibly three." You turned to face him, eyes honest.

His brows lifted. "Wow, that's not 'a bit', that's a full on escape plan."

You chuckled softly. "It's short for me. Honestly, I wanted to leave for a year."

He paused, then nodded like he understood. "Yeah I get it, but... I'm gonna miss you." His eyes met yours. "You're not gonna ditch me completely, are you?"

"No." You said quickly, then hesitated. Your voice softened. "But I need you to not contact me, at all. I felt guilty blocking you, so... I just wanted to let you know before I go."

He pressed his lips together, nodding slowly. "Mmm." There was a flicker of hurt there, but he tried to mask it. "I'll try not to."

You gave him a look.

A small smile cracked across his face. "Okay, fine. I won't."

There was a pause, a quiet tension building in the stillness. You looked down at your watch. "Well, I should get going. Don't want to miss my flight."

"Right." He nodded, stepping forward as you turned to leave. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you against him in a familiar, grounding way.

"Do you know exactly when you'll be back?" He asked, his voice muffled against your shoulder, like he didn't really want to know the answer.

"I'm not telling you." You laughed softly into the hug.

"So how am I supposed to know?"

"You'll feel it in the air." You teased. "Or... I don't know, just call me or something."

He leaned back to look at you, rolling his eyes. "Oh. I see what you did there." He sighed. "Whatever. Just... have fun, okay? Stay safe and let me know if you need anything, anything at all."

Your eyes locked with his— warm, sad, familiar. You reached up, gently cupping his cheek before leaning in to press your lips against his. The kiss was long and quiet, full of everything you couldn't bring yourself to say out loud.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were glossy, searching yours like he wasn't ready to let go.

"I don't know... that felt like a goodbye forever." He said quietly.

You took a breath. "More like... I need some time alone to heal."

He nodded, eyes soft. "If I figure everything out before you get back... will you be ready?"

You paused, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "I don't know." You were honest.

"But you should try anyway." You added. "For yourself."

He nodded. "Okay, I will."

"Promise?" You asked, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

He held out his pinky. "Only if you promise to at least come check when you get back."

You shook your head with a soft laugh and linked your finger with his. "You better hold your end of the bargain, Haechan. I'm not playing."

"I will, I promise." His pinky curled tight around yours.

"Bye." You smiled.

"See you." 

You walked out, the door clicking shut behind you and just like that, you left.

Not running, not escaping, but reclaiming something— space to breathe, space to think, space to heal.

A whole year's worth of chaos packed into a suitcase, and finally... you were letting it go.

══════════════════════════

Two months later, you finally landed in the city again. As the plane wheels slid across the ground, the familiar skyline greeted you like a memory— familiar, once suffocating, now softened around the edges. You had expected the ache in your chest to return the second you stepped back onto this soil, but it didn't, or maybe it did just a little less loudly this time.

You made it back to your apartment and set your bags down quietly, eyes scanning the room. Everything was exactly how you left it. The old memories echoed in the walls, but they didn't scream anymore, they just... lingered.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you glanced at the time.

10:33 PM.

Thursday.

That day used to mean something else, something bittersweet, familiar, the quiet routine of wanting more but never asking. You stood there for a moment, torn. You made a promise, just to check, just to see.

You weren't sure what you expected— maybe to find he moved on, maybe to prove to yourself that you had. But hope, as annoying as it was, always knew how to sneak in.

You threw on something a little nicer— something that made you feel a bit like yourself again, and headed out. The house was alive with sound, music pulsing through the walls, laughter spilling. You wove your way through the crowd, faces both familiar and distant flashing past, but no Haechan.

You ended up in the kitchen, where a neat line of unopened bottles sat on the counter. You picked one up absentmindedly, turning it over in your hands, unsure if you even wanted to open it.

"You're drinking without me?"

You froze, smile appearing on your lips before you even turned around.

And there he was. Standing there with that same crooked smile, looking at you like you never left— like he'd been waiting.

"I'm sorry, who are you again?" You teased, eyebrow raised.

He laughed. "I knew you were back, I felt it in the air."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. "I guess that's just the effect I have, huh?"

He took a step closer. "How have you been?"

You exhaled softly. "Good. Refreshed...happy."

His face broke into a genuine smile. "I'm really glad."

"And you?" You asked, studying his expression.

He shrugged, eyes still warm. "Been hanging in there."

You paused, tilting your head. "I came to check on you. I kept my end of the promise... did you?"

His grin turned sheepish, but he didn't answer. Instead, he gently took your hand and led you upstairs. The hallway felt familiar beneath your feet, but quieter now, less heavy.

When you entered his room, you noticed the small things first. A vase of fresh roses and sunflowers sat on his nightstand— alive and blooming, next to it a journal.

He picked it up and held it out like it was a metal.

"My therapist told me to start writing stuff down. My feelings, my thoughts, all of it. It was hard at first, like... really hard, but I did it and it helped— a lot." His smile was proud but a little shy.

"I'm so proud of you." You said, eyes soft. "Can I read it?"

He nearly choked. "Uh uh, absolutely not. Not yet."

You laughed, backing off with your hands raised. "Okay, okay, don't freak out."

He carefully placed it back on the nightstand, then turned to face you fully. "I'm trying, is that good enough for you?"

You stood there, caught in a quiet moment, eyes on him as your thoughts swirled. You missed him, that was undeniable, but there was still that voice— the one that warned you not to fall back into something that hurt.

You took a deep breath. "I— I don't know." You said honestly.

His face didn't fall, he just nodded patiently.

"I understand."

"But." You added, meeting his eyes again, "I'm willing to take things slow... something calm."

His face lit up instantly, hope returning to his eyes. "Really?"

"Really." You nodded. "But I swear— one wrong step, one moment that hurts me again, and you're done."

"Okay." He said quickly, almost too quickly. "Deal, a thousand percent."

You let him pull you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tightly like he wasn't quite convinced you were real yet. You didn't let go either, not for a long moment.

When he finally leaned back, his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin gently.

"Is this too fast?" He asked.

You blinked. "What?"

"If I kissed you, and didn't stop."

You stopped, a small grin on your face. "Yeah..." You said slowly. "But... I can make a few exceptions."

His grin deepened, and without another word, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss. It wasn't rushed, or messy, or desperate.

It felt like relief, it felt like trying again.

For once you weren't chasing clarity in someone else— you had found it in herself. You've done the hard work, peeled back the layers, and realized that your healing didn't have to mean shutting everyone out. You could choose love and still choose yourself. You could stay, not because you needed to be saved, but because you wanted to give love a chance without losing who you were in the process. Maybe that was the difference this time— you weren't afraid to walk away, but you didn't have to.

══════════════════════════

Epilouge: Haechan’ s Journal.

��═════════════════════════

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

[marsinoff]

Carlos, wiping his tears in front of Charles: I feel like I’d be really good at being divorced.

[haveihitanerve]

Headcanon that Bruce is 100% one of those “i’m not mad, I’m disappointed” types, and it absolutely kills his kids.

They hate it. Hate it with every fibre of their being. Because Anger, Rage? Those are emotions they understand. They know Bruce’s pain. Know his fury.

He gets mad, they rise fast. He strikes, they hit back harder. Using him as a punching bag just as much as he’s using them. Because they know pain, they understand rage. If Bruce raises his voice, they can ignite rapidly, even Dick, or Cass, by far those with the longest fuses, somehow, they find themselves screaming right back at him.

I can make this hurt. I can be mad too. Oh, I did something wrong? Well you did everything wrong. Ever. I can hit you where it hurts. I can make you bleed with words. Because I know your pain intimately and I can use that.

But when he’s disappointed?

Oh, nothing quite breaks through their walls and curdles in their lock protected hearts like Bruce’s disappointment.

Even to the kids who claim not to be his, it still hurts. Because its subtle, because its true, and most of all because its the same.

Bruce doesn't change much when he’s disappointed. He still says “i love you”, still tucks them in, still kisses their foreheads. He still patches their wounds and smiles at them.

But there's a level of detachment when he does so. A certain… absence. Of pride.

They feel his disappointment in them like a physical weight, tied to their legs, dragging them into the depths. The absence of Bruce’s pride is physical, and it hurts.

Because sure, he still tells them it’s alright, still assures them there's a tomorrow, a new day, a second chance. But they don’t want a second chance, they don't want to need one.

And Bruce believed in them. He thought they wouldn't. So when they do need a second chance… it drags him down, and takes them with him.

Because there is one person in their whole entire world who thinks the best of them, who believes they are the sun and the sky and all the stars and never doesn't trust them or thinks they can’t do something.

And when they fail? When they fall when they should've soared? It hurts. Like a punch in the gut. Because Bruce won’t say anything.

He’s disappointed, not mad. He’ll offer them a hand up. Say “try again.” But he won’t get mad. And they hate it. Because he expects so much from them, and they let him down.

And its not true, and he’ll never say that its true, but its the unwritten fact every child who yearns for the Batman’s praise must deal with. 

[saltcxrcle]

🏷️ taglist !

spn general [any and all fics]: @samsblades | @rubyvhs | @figurantedefilme | @angelicjackles | @s7nburn | @tusk-rumours | @foxyjwls007| @holdinggrudges| @littlesoulshine| @blossomingorchids | @h0neyst4rz| @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery |@tinas111

lust for life ── . ✶ s. winchester ²

summary: two sam's are better than one (at least most of the time when one them isn't soulless).

pairings: sam winchester x fem!reader x soulless sam!, past soulless sam! x reader, pre-established sam x readerノwc: 5.2K warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!, mickey 17 inspired fic! (also inspired by this fic by @reddesires as well!), no use of 'y/n', classic witch curse, vaguely set in season 12, older sam is referred to 'Sammy' and soulless sam is referred to 'Sam', smut, porn with very little plot, threesome m/f/m, samscest (they share a kiss), fingering, voyeurism, degradation (reader is called a whore and slut) oral fem! and male! receiving, squirting, protected p in v, double penetration in two holes, aftercare, some fluff in the end, title is a song title of the same name by lana del rey, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: this is a palate cleanser from the angst i put you guys through in may loll but im unapologetic for the amount of filth and freak that this fic has and give a special thank you to mari for being the biggest supporter of this piece of fanfiction and loving the weirdness of it. also sorry it took so long to get out, writers block is a bitch T-T sam winchester masterlist | lust for life moodboard

YOU HATED WITCHES. A LOT. 

You thought to yourself as you rubbed your temples at the sight in front of you. A smirking, slightly younger version of Sam stood in front of you, beside an older but current version of Sam, exasperated beyond belief at his soulless counterpart. 

You, Dean, and Sam were on what should have been a routine witch hunt in some run-of-the-mill town in Montana. When you guys were confronting said witch, she had thrown some type of liquid at Sam while chanting in Latin before comically disappearing in a cloud of smoke, having thrown down a smoke bomb from god knows where from her arsenal. 

When the smoke finally cleared, Sam was passed out on the ground, so you and Dean had lugged his body into the backseats of the Impala. Sam was still unconscious by the time you guys got back to your shared motel room, so you made Dean carry his comatose brother into the room. 

The two of you decided to let him sleep it off, leaving him in the room as you and Dean grabbed food for the three of you, when Sam decided to wake up. But you and Dean were in for a surprise when you opened the door to find two different Sams in the room. 

Dean was quick to jump to conclusions, but the Sam that didn’t look like Sam when he was soulless was quick to deduce that the witch’s spell was somehow able to separate his soulless self from his regular self and somehow morphed into the time in which he didn’t have his soul. You didn’t think to question how he deduced that—but it was Sam you were talking about, of course, he’d figure it out and simultaneously tried not to kill another version of himself. 

“Stay here and make sure that Sam doesn’t get a triplet, I’ll handle the witch.” Dean ordered you as he shrugged his jacket back on and made his way back out the door. 

“But I can—”

“Watch him!” Dean shouted from over his shoulder, cutting you off, and shut the door with a loud slam. 

You huffed, rubbing a hand down your face before leveling your gaze on the two Sams in front of you. You immediately noticed that the soulless counterpart of Sam had his gaze on you, trailing up and down your body—a shiver zipping down your spine at the familiarity of the look he was sending you. 

The image of Sam hovering over you as he grunted lowly in your ear as his chest was plastered to your back, his hips slamming into you from behind, flickered to life in your mind before you shook your head to get rid of the sudden memory. 

You swallowed thickly. “We should probably figure out what to call you so it doesn’t get confusing for any of us.” You said with a slightly strained voice. 

The Sam that lacked a soul smirked. “Oh, I think you know what you’d like to call me.” 

You glared at him, unaware that ‘Regular’ Sam was throwing him the same look. 

“I’ll call you Sam.” You said through gritted teeth before looking back at  ‘Regular’ Sam. “I’m calling you Sammy.” 

Sammy frowned at you but nodded anyway. You sent him a tight smile before pushing through the wall that was the pair of Sam’s and sat down on the edge of the bed to try and figure out what the hell your next move was. 

I just hope that Dean tracks down that witch and kills her fast. You thought as you covered your face with your hands with a sigh. 

Sam called your name, but you ignored him as you tried to figure out what the next course of action would be. He called your name again, louder, making Sammy shush him. 

Sam called your name once more, dragging out the last syllable as obnoxiously as he could. 

“What!” You snapped at Sam, finally dragging your gaze from the carpeted floor of the motel to look at him. 

“What’s got your underwear in a twist? I was just trying to get your attention.” 

You scoffed at his nonchalance. “When someone doesn’t respond to their name the first time, it typically means that you’re being ignored.” 

Sam kissed his teeth with his tongue. “I’m not appreciating the hostility here. I mean I’m still him.” Sam pointed at his older counterpart. 

“Yeah, with the obvious difference that I have my soul and you don’t.” Sammy spoke up with his arms crossed over his chest.

Sam’s eyes flickered between you and Sammy, noting the tension that was still ever-present between the two of you. 

“I wouldn’t act so high and mighty, Mr. I still have my soul. I mean, you lied to her about not remembering the times that we slept together when you didn’t have it.” Sam said with a smug smirk on his lips. If he could feel anything, Sam knew that his chest would fill with satisfaction at how Sammy’s face dropped at his words. 

“What are you talking about? He did forget about the year he was soulless because of the wall in his mind.” You interjected, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

Sam let out a chuckle, his head tipping back in amusement. “Woah, I can’t believe you lied,” He said, looking at  Sammy before turning back to you. “Well, he didn’t remember, but all of the memories came back when the wall fell.” 

You stood up from the bed and turned to Sammy. “Is that true?” Your voice was thick with disbelief. 

Sammy glared at his soulless counterpart, lips pressed together in frustration—he refused to meet your imploring gaze. “Yes.” His voice was tight with tension. 

You’ve always had a push and pull relationship with Sam, not getting off on the right foot when you first met him way back when the seals were being opened. You ran into the Winchesters on a hunt, which turned out to be them trying to stop that particular seal from being broken. 

Sam was irritated with you off the bat when you literally ran into him when trying to stake out the warehouse where the demons were plotting. He thought you were an inexperienced hunter who could bite off more than you could chew, but you immediately proved him wrong when you fought off the demons while chanting the exorcism incantation to get rid of the demons that were trying to kill Sam and Dean. 

Sam left the warehouse in a huff while Dean stuck around with the clean-up and apologized for his brother, saying that he didn’t get like that often. You waved off Dean, but that particular interaction had put you off from Sam. 

But not even a couple of weeks later, you had run into the Winchesters once again on a werewolf case. You were expecting hostility from Sam, but you were surprised by the apology he gave once the hunt was over. You accepted it and had a tentative friendship with Sam, having traded numbers and texted on more than one occasion. 

Your friendship did take a 180 when you were on a hunt and ran into Sam and his supposed grandfather. You could tell that something was just off with Sam after encountering him on the job, but didn’t confront him until the hunt was over, and discussed it over some drinks. 

Long story short, you only found out that he didn’t have his soul that night that he had slept with you until you ran into him and Dean, only a couple of months after the two of you had sex. You remember that Sam looked and felt like himself again and asked Dean about what had changed with Sam. Dean gave you the Cliff Notes of what happened with the apocalypse and how Sam’s soul was trapped in the cage with Lucifer. 

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” You found yourself asking Sammy after a brief moment of silence that filled the motel room. 

“There was no reason to. It happened so long ago that I thought you forgot.” Sammy averted his eyes from you as you tried to catch his gaze. 

Sam barked out a laugh, making the two of you look at him, puzzled from the sudden noise. 

“Oh, don’t lie to her or yourself, you still play that night on repeat when you decide to–”

“Shut up!” Sammy barked out, cutting off Sam, making the younger version of him smirk. 

You rubbed your temples as you looked at the two Sams in front of you. There was an ache beginning to form behind your eyes and making its way throughout your head as you tried to process the information that was just shared. 

Sam rolled his eyes, the smirk still evident on his face. “Oh don’t be such a prude, everyone in this room knows you act like one but you couldn’t be further from it.” 

Sammy let out a frustrated groan as he rubbed a hand down his face. “Wow, I really was a dick without my soul.” He murmured to himself. 

“I’m just you without a filter.” Sam clarified for his soul-having counterpart before turning to you. “I can tell you all of the thoughts that he’s had of you right now.” 

“Don’t.” Sammy said with a gravel in his voice.  

“He’s had all of the sappy thoughts about you, like wanting to hold your hand, kiss you, have your hands in his hair, and you know all of the lovey-dovey stuff.” Sam had a shit-eating grin on his face as his eyes glowed with a devilish glint in them. 

Sam took a step closer to you as he spoke. “But Sammy here also fantasizes about you crawling under the table in the library and wrapping your pretty lips around our cock, or bending you over the table and fucking you until you’re limp in our arms.” 

Sam’s words froze both you and Sammy in your spots. You couldn’t help the spark of arousal that ignited in your core at the vivid fantasies that Sam had revealed. 

You cleared your throat, and your mouth suddenly felt dry. “Our?” You questioned, having noticed his wording change. 

Sam hummed, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger as he looked down at you. “Aren’t I technically him? So his fantasies are mine too, and trust me, there are a lot of them. Another one of ours is seeing your pretty holes filled up just for me.” Sam whispered in the tiny space between the two of you. You hadn’t even noticed that Sam had leaned toward you. 

Your eyes darted to Sammy, his posture rigid as his hands were balled up into fists, his jaw clenched, and a fire in his hazel eyes. 

Sam noticed that your focus was off of him and followed your gaze to Sammy, and he smirked.  “Come on, Sammy, you’ll be able to fulfill your dirty little dream while I’m still here. I mean, technically, she’ll be filled up by you and not a toy or someone else. It’s practically the ideal scenario for everyone, and of course, if you want it to happen.” Sam looked back at you as he let his last words fill the motel room. 

Your head was practically spinning at Sam’s proposal. You weren’t going to lie when this was a dream come true for you. You had thought about that night with Sam a lot—it was the main scenario you used when you were alone and wanted to relieve some stress or sexually frustrated by being so close to Sam, yet so far away from him at the same time. 

You always felt like he kept you at arm's length ever since Sam had gotten his soul back, but you never questioned it, figuring it had something to do with how his life was chaotic enough with monsters that he didn’t want to complicate the friendship the two of you shared with each other. 

“It’s a one-time offer for everyone here. The clock is ticking.” Sam’s voice rang throughout the room. He had moved behind you at this point, his hands resting on your hips. 

You looked at Sammy, your bottom lip pulled in between your teeth as you tried to read his expression. Sammy’s face was hard—but his eyes were filled with a swirl of emotions, ranging from restraint, unsurety, and the one that surprised you the most was lust. It was the primary emotion you could identify—Sammy’s eyes had darkened to the point where you could barely see the hazel hue of his gaze from where you were standing. 

Sammy sent you a look that asked a million questions. Are you okay with this? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I can figure out a way to get rid of him. 

All you did was nod your head. In some weird and twisted way, Sam’s words were a huge turn-on for you, and you’d be an idiot if you didn’t take him up on his offer. 

“The offer is going once. Going twice–”

“Just shut up already.” You said harshly, turning in his grip and slamming your lips on his, pulling him into a heated kiss. 

Sam chuckled against your lips before reciprocating your kiss, matching the passion that you were kissing him with. His hands slid from your waist and grabbed a handful of your ass and squeezed hard, making you gasp into his mouth—taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into your open mouth. 

You were hyper-aware of Sammy’s eyes on the pair of you from across the room as Sam dragged his hands up your body and to the hem of your shirt, only breaking the kiss to take the offending piece of fabric off of you. Sam’s eyes immediately went to your chest, along with his hands as his fingertips trailed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they reached your bra-covered chest. 

The tips of Sam’s fingers danced over the tops of your breasts, skimming the soft skin before his hands found your bare shoulders and twisted you in his grip. You felt the warmth of his skin seeping through his flannel on your back. 

A hand was on your chin, making you meet Sammy’s intense stare. Even from where you were standing, you could tell Sammy was wound up, breathing heavier than usual. 

“It’s taking every fiber of his being not to come over here and rip you from my arms.” Sam murmured into your ear as his free hand caressed your side before crawling against your skin to reach the waistband of your jeans. 

“Let’s see if I can get you to cum before he decides to cave.” Sam’s words were laced with an artificial sweetness. He said it loud enough for Sammy to hear before his hand slithered into your pants, bypassing your underwear and to your wet cunt. 

Sammy’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing as he watched on with thinly-veiled restraint as the soulless counterpart began to play with you as he saw fit. 

You let out a low moan at the feeling of Sam’s fingers caressing your sensitive nub before swiping through your slit and you let out a breathless gasp as two of his fingers filled you. The slight sting of pain of his fingers entering you made it all the more pleasurable. 

Sam’s hand slid down from your chin to wrap around your neck, barely putting any pressure around it as his fingers began to move inside of you, making come-hither motions and brushing against your g-spot with every tap of his fingertips. 

Choked gasps and moans left your slightly swollen lips as the heat in your core began to grow. 

Sam left bruising kisses along your shoulder blades before his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Keep your eyes on him.” His command was low and controlled. 

You could feel the bulge in Sam’s jeans as he kept himself plastered to your back as you followed his order—you met Sammy’s lustful irises. 

“Look at him. He can barely hold himself back from storming over here and ripping you away from and making you his.” Sam’s lips brushed against your ear as he spoke. “But he knows he’d rather watch you cum on his, oh—I mean our fingers before taking what he wants.” 

You barely heard his words echo throughout the room, along with the sounds of your pleasure muffling your hearing. You couldn’t help the sparks of desire zipping through you—the sight of Sammy watching you while his soulless counterpart was fingering you was something you could only imagine in your wildest dreams. 

Sam smirked at the feeling of your cunt clenching around his fingers. “You like him seeing you getting fingered, don’t you? Such a little whore, aren’t you?” Sam cooed in a condescending voice as his fingers started to move at a more rapid pace. 

You let out a choked-out moan as the hand around your neck squeezed harshly, blocking your airway for a moment. 

“Answer me.” Sam’s voice was rough with lust as he stopped in his ministrations and let your neck go briefly—his hand now holding your neck. 

“Yes.” You answered breathily. The haze of lust took full rein of your actions, and all you wanted was Sam to make you come on his fingers before you could anticipate the rest of the time you had with the two Sam’s. 

Sam chuckled to himself and his fingers started to move again, aiming to make you soak his fingers. “You were always so obedient.” He sighed with a nostalgic expression before a smirk grew on his lips as he stared at his older counterpart. “I mean, you do remember how much of a good girl she was for us.” 

Sammy thought he was going to break a molar from how hard he was clenching his jaw. His erection was straining against the zipper of his jeans as he saw you practically melt into Sam’s arms. The taunt from the soulless version of himself almost made him snap, but he refrained from lunging at both of you so as to not ruin your orgasm. Sammy could only take so much of you writhing in Sam’s arms before he broke. 

Sam could feel you nearing your end and grabbed at your neck once more, putting pressure on the sides of your neck. You came with a silent moan around his fingers, your eye contact with Sammy finally breaking as they rolled to the back of your skull as your orgasm tore through your body with a vengeance. 

Once you had recovered from your orgasm, Sam’s hand had retreated from your pants. It rested against your lips, painting them with his arousal-coated fingers. Your mouth instinctively wrapped around the digits and cleaned them—the taste of your cum coated your tastebuds and you couldn’t help but moan softly around Sam’s fingers. 

Sammy had slowly stalked over to where you and Sam were standing and stared at your lips wrapped around Sam’s fingers. 

“You want to see these lips around our cock don’t you?” Sam said with a shit-eating grin on his face. He had practically read his older counterpart’s mind—but he rolled his eyes at him, not dignifying his words with a response. 

Wordlessly, Sammy grabbed you from Sam’s grip, and you had to brace yourself with how fast he pulled you into him, your hands landing on his chest as you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

Sammy looked a little unsure, his head dipping down to meet your gaze. You could see the unasked question in his eyes, and you nodded at him in response. He crushed his lips against yours in a fiery kiss. He groaned against your lips—Sammy could taste you as his tongue prodded at the seam of your lips, and once your tongues started to dance with one another. 

The next few moments were a blur to you. Sammy’s insistent hands were clawing at the rest of your clothes before they pushed you back onto the bed behind you. Another pair of lips filled the void that Sammy had left, not leaving you time to breathe, as warm hands started to caress and squeeze your breasts. You could vaguely hear the shuffling of clothes in the background as one of the Sam’s kissed and played with your boobs. 

Another set of hands landed on your legs, your shins specifically, before they slid up to your thighs and parted them—a trail of wet kisses followed the path up your legs. You broke away from the kiss to moan at the feeling of a tongue swiping through your wet cunt. 

You were met with the smirk of Sam’s swollen lips. You glanced down to see Sammy in between your legs and licking at your clit. Sammy met your eyes and you could see a spark of lust and satisfaction in his hazel gaze before burying his face into your pussy. 

A slew of curses fell from your lips as your head fell back onto the pillows. Your hands flew to Sammy’s hair as your hips tried to grind into his face but he pinned your hips to the bed as he devoured your cunt like you were an oasis in a desert and he was dehydrated. 

A hand on your chin grabbed your attention, moving your head to the left and you were met with the sight of Sam’s hard cock in front of your face. 

“I wanna see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock. Will you do that for me like the good little slut you are.” Sam had a salacious grin on his face as he tapped the thick head of his cock against your lips—drops of precum smearing against the plush skin. 

You tried to respond with a witty retort, but all that came out was a pitiful whine. Sammy sucked your clit into his mouth as two fingers filled you and started to gently thrust into your soaked channel. 

Sam took the opportunity of your open mouth and let the tip of his dick be enveloped by the warmth of your mouth. Sam let out a breathless groan at the feeling of your tongue flicking over the slit of the sensitive head. You had to crane your neck as Sam continued to fill your mouth. 

It was hard to focus on sucking Sam off while Sammy was being greedy and wanted to wring out as much pleasure as he could out of you. The heat in your lower belly was burning bright, and you could feel the pressure start to build. It wasn’t an unfamiliar one to you in the slightest, and you knew what was going to happen. Sammy kept pressing on your g-spot with every push of his fingers. 

Sam used your mouth with a surprising amount of care. Well, as much care as he had in his soulless body, which wasn’t much, but there was a tenderness with his measured thrusts and the hand angling your head so your neck wasn’t in an awkward position. But he made sure it was as messy as it could be—drawing from your mouth to tap your swollen lips with the ruddy tip of his cock before it bullied its way back into your mouth with a pointed thrust. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels better than I remember it. Such a good whore for us aren’t you?” Sam’s head was tilted back in pleasure as his hips jerked with a particularly harsh suck around his sensitive head. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as the sensations overwhelmed you, and the pressure in your lower belly burst. You came with a muffled cry around Sam’s cock as you gushed into Sammy’s mouth. Sam’s hips stuttered at the sight, and he had to pull away from your mouth as you gasped for breath, 

Sammy’s tongue laved over your wet thighs, cleaning you up before dotting kisses up your body. He wiped his mouth and chin with his hand before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You could barely return his kiss as you calmed down. 

The room was filled with your labored breaths, and once you were brought back down to earth, you noticed the absence of warmth by your sides. You opened your eyes to find both of them standing at the edge of the bed, condoms on and a bottle of lube in Sam’s hand. 

“Here’s the plan pretty girl, you’re going ride Sammy here, and I’ll take your tight little ass like old times, okay?” 

Your mouth was agape as you looked at them dumbly. “What?” 

Sam moved to the side of the bed, leaning over it so he was face-to-face with you. “As I said before, we want to see you be filled with the both of us and I’m not passing up on this opportunity before I cease to exist when Dean kills that witch and neither does goody-two-shoes over there.” 

You swallowed hard at his words, your eyes darted over to Sammy, and let your gaze rake over him before you nodded. 

“Words. I need them.” Sam had gripped your chin to bring your eyes back to him. 

“Okay, we can do this.” You breathed out as you let anticipation fill your veins. 

Sam smirked. “Good girl.” Sam pressed a kiss to your lips before leaving your side. 

And before you knew it, you were hovering over Sammy’s cock, poised to straddle him as you felt the presence of Sam behind him. Sammy’s back was propped up against the headboard, and he pulled you into a kiss as you sank down onto him, both of you groaning against each other's lips as you felt him fill you to the brim. 

God, if you felt this full with just one of his cocks, then you didn’t know what to expect with the same cock filling your ass.  

You slowly grinded on Sam’s cock, trying to adjust to his size fully while Sammy had a firm grip on your hips, aiding you in your movements. 

The click of the bottle opening and closing made you stutter in your actions. Sammy sent you a reassuring smile as one of his hands left your hip to cradle your cheek. 

“S’fine, just breathe okay?” Sammy said gently as he brought your head down to meet him with a kiss. 

You jumped slightly at the cold sensation of the lube coating Sam’s fingers. You couldn’t help but let out a slight whine at the feeling of one of his fingers filling your ass. You started to lean into the feeling of being full, slowly moving on Sammy, and Sam working in tandem with you. Eventually Sam was able to fit three fingers before he retracted his hand and replaced them with the blunt head of his covered cock. 

You couldn’t help but tense up at the feeling, and Sammy felt it. He pulled you into another kiss while petting at your clit with his thumb, trying to make you relax into the sensation. 

Moans erupted from the three of you as Sam slowly filled your ass and once he was fully sheated inside of you—you were panting from how full you felt. 

“Shit, she’s so fucking tight god.” Sam couldn’t help but say. 

“Move, please.” You moaned out. You felt like you were going to explode if neither of them was going to do anything soon. 

The men shared a look over your shoulder before they started to move, and sparks began to dance behind your eyes. You were always filled with them, their thrusts alternating. 

Sammy let out a hiss of pain as your nails bit into his shoulders, but it bled into pleasure down his spine. He ignores the fact that he can feel Sam through the thin skin separating the two of them. 

Sam looked at Sammy with a sly smirk. “This is better than you’ve ever imagined, right? Fuck-” He moaned out feeling your ass tighten around him, “I mean you should be thanking that witch for this, otherwise you would have dreamt about this and used your hand-” 

Sammy leaned up even further, his hand shooting out and cupping Sam’s neck. “Shut up.” Sammy groaned out before slamming his lips against his younger counterpart. 

If you weren’t fucked dumb at this point, then your mind just shut down at the sight happening over your shoulder. You clenched hard around both of them, making their thrusts falter and breaking their kiss with simultaneous moans escaping them. 

You felt the pressure building again. “G-gonna cum soon.” You warned them, and their hips seemed to move faster, now working at the same time and pounding into you harder. 

Your body was slick with sweat as the warmth and lust that filled the room consumed you. 

Sammy started to rub at your clit again, and you couldn’t help but fall apart in between them. 

“Fuck!” You wailed as you clenched around both of them. Your head fell forward, and you couldn’t help but bite Sammy’s shoulder. 

The pain triggered his own orgasm, shoving himself into you twice before stiling inside you, his warm cum filling the condom. Sam followed moments after, following you and biting into your shoulder before nipping at the skin surrounding your shoulder and neck. 

Once the three of you found some semblance of breath, Sam pulled out of you carefully before taking off the condom and throwing it away. Sammy helped you get off of his softening cock and disposed of the condom. 

Before he let exhaustion take root in his body, he scooped you up in his arms and went into the bathroom to let you pee and help you clean up. You would have protested, but the endorphins that had flooded your mind and body took precedence over speaking, so you let him. 

Sammy was careful with you, taking a damp towel and wiping you down before doing himself, and turned around to let you pee. The two of you couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation, but you could tell that Sammy wanted to stick close to you. 

On wobbly legs, you walked back into the room with Sammy by your side and were slightly startled to find that the soulless version of Sam had disappeared. 

You looked at Sam. “Well, I suppose Dean killed her.” You hummed out. 

“Yep.” Sam said in a stiff voice. 

It was clear that he was a little ashamed and uncomfortable about what had transpired not even ten minutes ago. You guys were still naked, but you didn’t care at the moment. 

You reached up to cup Sam’s cheek to make him look at you. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about this right now, but we will have to eventually. But I enjoyed it okay?” 

Sam relaxed at your words, and his eyes flicked down to your lips. Without second-guessing himself, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss. You sank into the kiss, and you gave him another smile once the two of you parted. 

You guys got dressed in your pajamas but were wearing Sam’s shirt instead of your own. As you guys waited for Dean to come back, the pair of you fell asleep in the same bed, wrapped up in each other with soft breaths escaping your lips. 

[cookiedough77]

ADRINETTE HALLOWEEN!!! :3

i told you guys i would

i guess i DID draw their full costumes but ITS BAD THE DRAWNITS BAD

so uhm

[pastafossa]

Something insanely weird happened this morning involving Daredevil.

I was asleep, and deep in a dream. An odd one, yes, but also pne that had no relation to anything Daredevil, Marvel, or Charlie Cox adjacent. I think I was in my bathrobe and trying to smuggle a bunch of small boxes out of the house because a bunch of people were there for a dual party/home reno... thing and I didn't want them to find the boxes.

Anyway, as I was walking through the house,I came around a corner and slammed into... Matt Murdock? Grey suit, tie, cane. Standing vaguely like this.

Even in the dream, that startled me. He didn't belong here, I knew that somehow.

"Wake up," he said urgently. "You're bleeding."

And when I tell you that rocketed me out of sleep like a gd nasa project I am not joking.

Was I bleeding???

...the fuck??? I was!

Because my period had started early. I was bleeding, and at best guess I was about 10 minutes away from needing to wash my sheets.

So either my subconscious decided the person that could wake me up the fastest was Matt, or he's out there hopping through dimensions and briefly stopped in my dreams to give me a helpful heads up.

I am STILL weirded out by this hours later.

[heretolurkbutalasitstaken]

The show demilitarised the comics which is nice. Alice/Beth is real, yeah.

TV show Batwoman good show, do watch it.

it's my favourite batman-adjacent show with what I think might be the best adaptation of a popular comic villain from the films (ask if wondering who)

KATE KANE HAS A TWIN SISTER ???

[artificial-absinthe]

Frame from a never ending animation.

[velveteen-vampire]

i drew these a while ago and i think the people deserve it

[flower-boi16]

AyyLmao's video on the LavenderTowne controversy and the issues with Hazbin redesigns actually made some pretty good points but him blaming Lavander for "not doing her research" for certain aspects of the show's world that weren't explained in the show itself seriously rubbed me the wrong way.

People like LavenderTowne shouldn't have to look up on a wiki to understand major parts of Hazbin's story, things like the characters' origins and major world-building should be explained in the show itself, it shouldn't be just kept in a live stream.

General audiences should not have to slog through live streams or wikis to get this information, it should be IN THE SHOW ITSELF. It's not their fault for not getting this stuff if the show itself never explained it.

The fact that people with over two million subs don't get this stuff because it was not in the show itself shows a failure to communicate information to the audience by Viv. Vital information like this should be in the show, not a live stream. Plain and simple.

[tracksuitlesbian]