#your writing has given me hope in ways i can't explain

[withlovemark]

“drivers license”

pairing: college! jaehyun x reader | genre: angst | words: 11k+

now listening to -> i got my drivers license last week just like we always talked about.

synopsis -> a whirlwind romance with jung jaehyun.

warnings -> minor car crash, cheating, a break-up, might leave behind emotional damage, jaehyun is a coward, +18, crude language, mention of: frat parties, alcohol, make outs, smut! not descriptive but contains: dry humping, jaehyun cumming in his pants, implied oral (f), implied sex.

an -> i cannot believe the day has come where i finally finished this. it’s so embarrassing to say but this took me five years (2021-2025) and it’s not even the proudest thing i’ve written. every time i opened the google doc for this it was like my brain would forget every word in the dictionary. writers block hitting every god damn time. the reason? this entire series started with a member that is no longer part of nct and the issue around him, at the time, hurt me a lot and took me a while to move on from. but hey! time heals. this is here. it’s done! and i love writing for nct again! have fun reading! with love, c.

͙͘͡★

“hey uhh, it’s me, umm by me i mean its y/n by the way, i-well,” you let out a nervous chuckle, “i know this is weird, like really weird. especially since we’re y’know…broken up and all but uhm i just wanted to tell you that i uh…” your voice wavers, you cough once, clear your throat, then barrel forward, rushing through the words as if that’ll make it hurt less, “...finally got my driver’s license,” you finished clumsily.

silence fills the space for a beat too long.

‘this is stupid. what the hell am i doing,’ you think to yourself, realization slowly creeping in.

“-that’s pretty much it, i just,” you sigh, “wanted to tell you...you probably don’t care but yeah um i hope you’re doing well—”

beep.

the voicemail machine rings in your ear, letting you know that you’ve exceeded the amount of time given. you stare at your phone like it personally betrayed you. then it hits you. full force. your eyes widen, jaw dropping.

‘no, no, NO, no fucking way you just called your ex…you absolute dumbass,’ the inner voice in your head ridicules.

“UGHH!” you swore in the comfort of your car, head slamming against the steering wheel as you punched the air around you. if anyone were to see this scene unfold, they would think you were absolutely, batshit crazy.

god, you wished you were. it would be easier to explain.

but no, this was just a side effect of the broken-hearted.

after a while of just wallowing in your pity, you finally accept the fact that you were pathetic. throwing your phone into your bag, you chose the radio over the aux cord, not wanting to see the little devil machine that caused you your entire pride.

“hi, this is olivia rodrigo and you are now listening to my debut single, drivers license.”

‘olivia who?’ you start driving, wondering who the new artist was that was playing in the station you randomly tuned into.

the song starts and you barely register the lyrics until they start pulling on you. you can't help but feel that she had access to your inner thoughts and wrote this song using your heart and soul and diary.

you sit there, frozen behind the wheel, eyes on the road but barely seeing it. your grip on the steering wheel tightens. each lyric landing like a punch to the gut. images flashing behind your eyes of the one and only — jung jaehyun.

the man of the hour.

your first thought in the morning and the one that haunts you at night. you tried to forget. you tried to let go. but how could you, when he gave you so much to hold on to?

the first meeting.

“ouch!” you yelped, instinctively clutching the top of your head where a basketball had just collided…hard.

you turn around, ready to blow up on the person that obviously sucked at basketball.

in what world was the net your head???

but then your eyes locked with his and just like that, every insult evaporated from your mouth — the school’s number one golden boy. star player. campus crush. walking daydream.

and currently jogging towards you, “sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, ears burning red as he retrieves the basketball that landed a few inches away from you.

you blinked once, twice, “uhh, its um… its okay,” you managed to stammer, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your pride that had scattered alongside the ball.

you never really cared for social norms or popularity or any of that status quo bullshit. social ladders were just invisible ropes to nowhere in your mind. but you still knew that jaehyun was way up there, all shining spotlight and untouchable perfection, while you… weren’t even on the pyramid.

and yet, here he was. looking at you.

‘why is he still looking at me?’

before you could think further, jaehyun stepped a little closer, his brows pulling together in concern. and then, as if time itself slowed down, he reached out and cupped the side of your head, your brain short-circuiting.

‘no way. no way jung jaehyun is touching my face right now. this isn’t real. i’m dreaming. i’ve fallen unconscious from the ball and i am hallucinating.’

you felt the weight of a dozen eyes on you, murmurs, a couple of gasps. even his teammates had paused to see what their mvp was doing hovering over some nobody with the gentleness of a disney prince.

your panic response kicked in – you slapped his hand away, wanting to get rid of the attention that was suddenly on you though this action did the exact opposite, everyone now curious as to who you are.

“wh-what are you doing?” you demanded, voice way too high-pitched to be threatening. every curious eye zooming in on you like vultures to a fresh kill. everyone thinking the same thing: who were you to slap the golden boy’s hand?

jaehyun blinked at your reaction, then rubbed the back of his neck, completely unbothered by your swat, “i was just checking to see if you were hurt,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world to cradle strangers’ heads in public.

“oh uh it's fine!, it doesn’t hurt at all!! no bumps here,” you chirped, hands going straight to your head, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips as he eyes you suspiciously, not quite convinced with your statement.

“see!” you continue, pointing at the top of your head as you bow, earning a laugh from the boy in front of you. you can’t help but look back at him, his deep laughter ringing in your ears. you notice the way his dimples came out to play.

“okay, if you say so,” jaehyun said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “but a little tip…”

“huh?” you were still trying to recover from the dimple attack.

“you probably shouldn’t stand right behind a basketball hoop. especially when people are playing,” he teased, his grin widening like he knew exactly what he was doing to your poor nervous system.

your face burned, “right,” you muttered, wishing the earth would open and swallow you whole.

then he winked. actually winked. before he turned around, casually spinning the ball in his hand as he jogged back to his teammates while you watched him go, still frozen in place, still trying to compute what the hell just happened.

the first car ride.

the rain poured mercilessly, cold needles stabbing through your clothes as you power-walked down the sidewalk, your backpack clumsily perched atop your head in a hopeless attempt to shield yourself.

just your luck. the one day you forgot your umbrella was the day mother nature decided to go full on melodrama.

through the wall of rain, a car pulled up beside you, the hum of the engine barely audible over the storm. then a voice called out, “hey! do you need a ride!?”

you try to peek at the person inside, droplets of rain making your eyes flicker yet you see him in all his glory. you stared for a second too long, internally questioning every life decision that led to this exact moment.

‘now why in the world is he offering me a ride’

you hesitated. the rain was unrelenting, soaking through your hoodie and numbing your fingers, but getting into a car with someone you barely knew, even if he was the school’s walking dream, was a gamble.

sure, he might be the most popular guy in school but the only thing you knew about him was his name and his basketball jersey number, which was 14 by the way.

“you’re not going to kidnap me and then murder me to sell my organs on the black market, right!?” you ask, questioning his motives.

“huh??” the boy yells back.

‘i said!!...” you state your previous statement for the second time, battling with the sound of the loud rain hitting the pavement.

jaehyun blinked. and then…he laughed. a real, full laugh that melted a little of your anxiety.

“well, that’s for you to decide!” he shot back, boyish and harmless, dimples threatening to make you forget all your common sense.

it seems as if the rain won't stop any time soon. so you weigh out your options. possibly die in a handsome stranger's car or walk home and also possibly die in the cold rain? which one sounds like a more peaceful way to go?

fuck it.

you yanked open the door and slid into the passenger seat, shivering as the heater hit your skin like a hug from the sun. the door shut, sealing you in with warmth and the faint smell of clean laundry and something citrusy. you knew right then that you made the correct choice.

jaehyun quickly grabs his backpack from the backseat, taking out a grey hoodie. “here, you should change before you get sick,” he offers.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, “you know if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked,” you teased, your playful nature coming out to mask the awkwardness that is you sitting on the passenger's seat of the school’s pride.

he let out a mock grunt, rolling his eyes with a smile as he turned to look out the rain-covered window, “shut up.”

“don’t peek, okay!” you chuckled, noticing the way his ears had turned to a slight shade of pink.

briskly changing into the hoodie that was way too big for you, you turn to the boy at the driver’s seat who’s still keeping himself busy, probably betting which raindrop racing to roll down his car window would win.

“i’m done,” you finally said after admiring him. he turns to you, giving you a soft smile, “the hoodie suits you.”

“thanks for letting me borrow it,” you grinned, matching his reflection.

“i’m jaehyun by the way,” he introduced himself, reaching out his hand.

“i know,” you say casually, realizing how weird it sounded as soon as the words left your lips, “i-i mean! everyone knows the basketball teams mvp!,” you reason as jaehyun nods, completely understanding what you meant.

“uh, im y/n,” you finally say, completing the handshake.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” jaehyun says as he looks at you quizzically.

“what? do i have something on my face??” you gasp, feeling your face for any unwanted substance, your action reminding jaehyun of the person he accidentally threw a basketball at a couple weeks ago.

he smiles after putting two in two together, realizing that you were that same person.

it was a fond memory for him, usually people would worship the ground he walked on but you…you slapped him away. a different reaction from the ones he was used to. ever since that day he hoped to run into you again.

“why are you smiling like that? oh god, is this the part where you admit to killing me??” you gushed, earning a laugh from him.

“are you sure that ball didn’t damage the inside of your brain?” he joked as you sat there registering his words.

“wait..you remember that?” you ask, genuinely confused as to why he would even remember you with all the people that surround him day by day.

“it’s not everyday i hit someone with my ball,” he smirks and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole because that memory is definitely in your top 10 most embarrassing moments and he remembers it.

“to answer your question, no... the ball did not hurt me, i just watch a lot of true crime,” you admit. jaehyun chuckles and you can’t help but join, feeling more at ease with being in his presence.

“and you think i’m really a killer?,” he quips a brow, an amused expression on his features.

‘yeah, your looks are killer’

“with a face like this?” he joked, striking a ridiculous pose, chin tilted up dramatically.

‘exactly’

you let out a giggle, “first of all, don’t ever make that face again, second, it’s always the ones you don’t expect,” you say, talking like a detective. he burst into laughter again, his eyes crinkling, and you realized then and there…you really liked the sound of his laugh. it was easy. real. addicting.

“so y/n… where do i drop you off?” jaehyun shoots you a smile.

“why? so you can know where i live and kill me in the comfort of my own home?” you continue joking around with him.

“you’re unbelievable.” he chuckles as you start directing the way to your apartment.

and as he drove through the rain, one hand on the wheel and the other occasionally tapping the rhythm of the music playing faintly in the background, you looked out the window, only to catch your reflection in the glass, wearing his hoodie, laughing in his car.

you didn’t know it then, but this was the moment everything quietly began.

the proposal.

“remind me again why you’re in college and still don’t have your driver’s license?” the boy asks you.

you looked up from your coffee, eyes narrowing at jaehyun as he sat across from you, chin propped up on one hand, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. the two of you are seated in the campus’ cafe which has quickly become your usual meet up spot. it was halfway between the music room and the laboratories – a perfect place for a medical major and a music major to meet up.

“i don’t need it,” you shrugged, casually stirring your drink with the little wooden stick they gave you, “everything’s within walking distance anyway. and if it’s not, the bus exists.”

he leaned back in his chair, eyebrows lifting in a slow, dramatic arc, “you do realize that you’d save so much more time and money if you had a car, right?”

you sighed, already seeing where this was going. this wasn’t the first time jaehyun had tried to convince you to get behind the wheel, “yeah, but I don’t need it right now,” you shrug.

he shook his head with an exasperated little grin, then set his drink down with a thud and pointed at you, “okay, okay, just imagine this.”

here it comes.

“you finally graduate, top of your class, of course, and you’ve landed the job of your dreams. everyone’s calling you doctor y/n. life is good,” he leaned forward, voice dropping to a mock-serious whisper, “and yet…you still don’t have your own car? that’s kind of lame.”

you let out a dramatic gasp, grabbing your paper straw wrapper and tossing it at him, “first of all, rude. second of all, i will obviously have my license by then!”

“exactly!” he claps, “soooo, wouldn’t it be better if you start practicing now,” he says smirking, knowing that he won this debate.

you crossed your arms, pretending to scowl, “okay, so what do you want me to do about it?”

jaehyun leaned back, acting as though he were pondering the mysteries of the universe before saying, with complete nonchalance, “let me teach you.”

your brow rose immediately, suspicious, “and what do you want in return?”

he sipped his coffee, his expression unreadable, then he smiled, “nothing, i just want more time with you,”

“with me??” you ask in disbelief.

the boy shrugs his shoulders, “yeah, i like hanging out with you.”

your heart thudded, your breath caught in your throat before you quickly masked it with a sip of your drink.

after a few seconds of silence, which jaehyun could argue felt like forever, you finally agreed, “so, what’s the first lesson?”

he lit up, clearly proud of himself, “hmm, how about you just let me drop you off everyday?”

well, now that just did not make sense to you.

you tilted your head, trying to make sense of the logic or lack thereof, “how does that help me learn? that’s literally just you driving me around.”

“visual learning first before i let you behind the wheel,” he responds, “my car is still my baby you know,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you laugh at the words that slipped by his lips.

and maybe it was stupid. maybe letting jaehyun drive you everywhere was unnecessary. but the way he looked at you, like this tiny, mundane thing mattered just because you mattered, was more than enough for you to agree.

the first lesson.

“brake y/n, step on the brake. brake! brake!! brake!!!,” jaehyun chants like it was a mantra, sending you into panic mode as your brain suddenly couldn’t differentiate which pedal is which.

you shut your eyes instinctively, ready to come into collision with the brick wall that just kept coming closer and closer until the car came to a sudden stop.

for a moment, all you could hear was the hum of the engine and the wild pounding of your heart. your body leaned forward slightly, but something kept your head from slamming into the steering wheel. blinking rapidly, you looked up and saw jaehyun’s arm. his hand had shot out across your seat, pressed firmly against your forehead. his jaw was tight, his breath shallow, but his grip on you had been steady, sure.

“you okay?” he asked after a beat, his voice low and strained.

you took a second to gather yourself before nodding slowly. “yeah, yeah, i think i’m alive.”

jaehyun exhaled and finally pulled his arm back.

“how��d you stop the car, are you like superman or something?” you finally say, breaking the tension in the air.

jaehyun laughs, finally pulling his hand back as he gets cozy in his seat once again, “there’s something called a handbrake, y/n,” he grinned, pointing at the gadget sitting in between the two of you as you let out a silent, “oh.”

the moment dissolved into quiet as you slumped against the seat, defeated, “i told you that driving would be a bad idea!”

jaehyun rolled his eyes but his brows pulled together slightly, and you knew he wasn’t just brushing it off, “y/n… you need to learn how to drive. it’s a basic life skill.”

for the past month, jaehyun has been teaching you how to drive and this past month the only thing you truly learned was that jaehyun was an old soul. apart from basketball, he loved collecting vintage things, loved photography, music, wine, cooking, troy bolton, and you couldn’t help but want to learn more.

“ughhh yeah, yeah i know, you say that all the time,” you replied, glancing at him, “please don’t be mad.”

his expression softened instantly as he turned toward you, “i’m not mad,” he said, ruffling your hair with his usual affection, “just mildly terrified.”

you giggled as he reached for his seatbelt and unbuckled with a sigh. that was your cue. you could finally breathe again as you both clambered out and swapped seats.

the familiar thump of the driver’s side door shutting felt like a reset button, and suddenly the energy between you felt light again, comfortable. you let yourself get cozy in the passenger seat, your favorite seat, as you throw jaehyun your best mischievous grin.

he didn’t look at you. just calmly reached for the gear, put the car in reverse, and smoothly began backing up. one hand rested on the back of your seat, his body turning effortlessly as he scanned the rearview, jawline sharp in profile, lashes thick against the sunlit windshield, his long fingers flexed against the headrest near your shoulder.

you stared unabashedly, “that was so hot. do it again,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

jaehyun paused, casting you a sideways glare, “shut up, i’m driving” he muttered, but the corners of his lips betrayed him, the start of a smile curling upward.

you turned toward the window, hiding the smile blooming on your face. outside, the world passed in soft blurs of sunlight and trees, but inside the car, everything felt still, like something fragile and new had quietly taken root between you.

the first time.

“why don’t you ever deny it?”

your voice is soft, almost lost beneath the hum of the night and the low music playing from jaehyun’s car speakers. the two of you sit in the back of his car, the trunk popped open to reveal the night sky. a shared blanket pools around your waists, open snack bags scattered between your legs, the half-empty bottles of beer glinting faintly under the stars.

“deny what?” jaehyun asks, turning towards you, a bag of chips in hand.

you glance away, suddenly shy, “the other day… when johnny told you to bring your girlfriend to the party, and he meant me, you didn’t correct him.”

the scene has been bothering you for quite some time now. sure, you and jaehyun have been spending a lot of time together and you could understand how from an outside perspective, people could think you were dating.

but you weren’t, you were simply just friends.

jaehyun takes a swig of his alcoholic beverage, hesitating to respond, “d-do you not want to be?”

you blink, “wait, what?”

jaehyun chuckles, relieved that he could blame the alcohol for the blush that was forming on his face. he rests his head against the car’s frame, “you know, for someone who can memorize entire anatomy textbooks, you can be really clueless sometimes.”

you scowl at him, ready to shoot back something sarcastic, until he looks at you.

“i like you, y/n.”

the words land heavy and warm in the middle of your chest.

“y-you like me?” you echo, unsure whether to believe it or hold it at arm’s length.

“yeah,” he smiles, but there’s something vulnerable in it, “i like you.”

there’s a beat of silence, like the universe is holding its breath.

“…since when?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“since the day i first met you,” he confesses, turning away and looking up at the stars.

you turn to him, noticing the grin that was displayed on his face and the blush painting his ears and you couldn’t help yourself, it was like your body had a mind of its own and you were no longer in control.

you feel your hands instinctively rise to his face, gently guiding his head to face you. jaehyun watches your every move, almost mesmerized, eyes flickering down to your lips.

your fingers ghost across his cheek, then brush against his lips and that was all the permission he needed.

he leans in slowly, hand cupping your cheek with such care it makes your chest ache. his lips meet yours, soft, cautious, like he’s been waiting forever. you respond instantly, melting into him, letting the kiss deepen, pulling you both under.

the more you kissed him, the more addictive he got.

he tastes like beer and vanilla chapstick. one kiss turns to two. two turns to something needier, hands exploring, hearts thudding. you wanted more. your hands found themselves slightly pulling at the boy's hair as jaehyun changed the position, throwing you over him so that you could straddle him, knees tucked beside his thighs.

forgetting that you guys were still in the comfort of his car, your head makes contact with the roof, breaking off the kiss, “ow,” you whined, hand going straight to your head, making you and jaehyun burst into laughter, breathless and giddy.

“i really gotta stop accidentally injuring you,” he grins, rubbing the spot on your head with sympathy, before bringing his lips up to soothe the pain with kisses.

“i think your car’s trying to keep us in check,” you smile, soft giggles slipping from your lips.

“or it’s warning me before I lose control,” he says, his lips trailing kisses down your jaw.

you meet his gaze, your voice dropping, “what if i want you to lose control?”

you were challenging him and he’s definitely up for it. jaehyun swallows hard, eyes darkening with something deeper than mischief. he doesn’t say a word, just closes the trunk with one smooth motion and takes your hand, guiding you into the backseat with quiet urgency.

this time you straddle him with ease, his lips immediately on yours as his hand wanders all throughout your body. he licks your bottom lip and you give in, parting your lips open to meet his tongue, feeling him smile through the kiss.

“you’re dangerous,” he murmurs, “you really have no idea what you do to me.”

you breathe against his neck, one hand splaying across his chest to feel the rapid beat of his heart, “i think i do.”

rough hands guide your body down until you’re fully sat upon his hard cock, emphasizing the way he needs you. you rock into him once and he cant help but release a groan of pleasure, “my cock is throbbing for you, baby,” the pet name sends your mind into a haze, rocking into him again and again until you’ve set a pace that mixed your moans with his.

“baby, im gonna cum in my pants,” he grunts, turning you on even more.

“you like me that much, huh?,” you tease, not losing your rhythm, and all he could do was grunt in reply as he lost control, releasing evidence on his sweatpants.

you giggle at the effect you had on him, snapping him out of his daze, “what’s so funny, pretty girl?”

“i haven't even touched you yet,” you tease.

“can you blame me?, i've been thinking about this ever since you got undressed in my car,” he confesses and your eyes almost bulge out of the sockets.

“yeah? what else did you think about?,” you taunt him.

“i’ll show you,” he says before gently placing you down his car seat, as he helps you out of your jeans.

the space is small. the car is cramped. but nothing was going to stop him from fitting his large frame in between your legs.

he places a kiss above your panties. your hips immediately react to his actions. he smirks, “you like me this much, huh?” he teases you with your own words.

“jaehyun, please do something,” you whine.

jaehyun pushes your panties to the side, finally giving you what you both wanted.

the first i love you.

“come on, just trust me,” jaehyun whispers in your ear, the warmth of his breath grazing your skin and sending butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach. his voice is low, teasing, calm in a way that only makes you more curious. and more flustered.

“jae, how long are we going to have to drive for?” you whine again, blindfolded with a handkerchief that still smells like his cologne.

“we’re almost there,” he replies, chuckling at your lack of patience.

“ugh finee,” you sigh, slouching in your chair until the car comes to a stop.

“are we he—?,” before you can finish, his lips press against yours in a kiss that completely pushed out all of your thoughts. you freeze in place, lips softening as you instinctively lean into it, feeling the smile tugging at his mouth before he pulls away.

“that’s how much you wanted me to shut up huh?” you smirk.

“nah,” jaehyun chuckles, shifting gears with a casual ease. you can hear the grin in his voice.

“then what was that for?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing and jaehyun can’t help but chuckle at your expression.

“i just wanted to kiss my girlfriend at a red light, is that a crime?” he teases.

you can’t help the grin that stretches across your face, “nope,” you murmur, “feel free to do it again, whenever.”

this past week of being jaehyun’s official girlfriend has been a dream. you’re not sure how long honeymoon avenue lasts but you did know that you wanted to keep driving down this road as long as jaehyun’s the one sitting in the driver's seat.

the car slows to a stop, and you perk up, “are we he—?”

your question gets cut off by another kiss, this one slower, more lingering, like he just wanted one more moment of you before the surprise.

“you really like interrupting me today,” you whisper, dazed.

“only when I can’t help myself.”

moments later, he’s helping you out of the car, one hand around your back, the other gently clasping yours. you feel the crunch of gravel beneath your feet, the subtle shift in wind telling you that you’re somewhere open, peaceful.

and then he let’s go

“jaehyun?” you ask, the loss of contact making you nervous.

“im here,” he whispers right by your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

“are you ready?” he asks. you nod before he carefully unties the handkerchief, finally allowing you to take in the beautiful view right in front of you.

“oh my god,” you awe in admiration, “did you set this all up yourself?”

in front of you lays a yellow checkered picnic blanket, filled with a bunch of your favorite snacks, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and his guitar seated perfectly on the side. the sky is blue, the birds are chirping, and jaehyun is standing right next to you. you could've sworn you were transported into a fairytale book.

jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, cheeks already pink, “yeah, i know how busy you are and i just wanted you to take a moment to unwind,” he admits, as you turn around facing him, noticing his ears turning that shade of red that you grew to love.

love.

it’s a strong word. but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s the reason for the butterflies in your stomach. your heart swells so fast it feels like it might burst. you reach for his hand and twine your fingers through his, “you’re unreal, you know that?”

you lean in, brushing your lips against his in a soft, grateful kiss. he responds just as gently, thumb grazing your cheek like he’s memorizing how you feel in his arms.

the world around you seems to fade. no ticking clocks, no deadlines, no chaos. just you, him, and the way time stands still when your lips meet.

when you finally break apart, he smiles at you like he’s the luckiest boy alive, “come on, sit. i’ve got one more surprise.”

“oh god. what could top this?,” you smile.

he settles onto the blanket, pulls his guitar into his lap, and glances at you nervously, “i uh… wrote you a song.”

your eyes widen, “you what?”

“i wrote you a song,” he says more confidently this time, grabbing his guitar. you can literally feel your heart thumping out of your chest like they do in those cartoon shows and you wonder if he can hear how loudly it’s beating.

and then he sings.

the words are sweet. honest. every line is a little window into his heart, filled with shy glances, secret hopes, and the quiet moments he never had the courage to tell you about until now.

as soon as he plucked the last chord, there were only three words that could slip past your lips.

“i love you.”

it slips out before you can second-guess it. and for a split second, your heart stops. maybe it’s too soon. maybe you’ve ruined something.

but then jaehyun’s entire face lights up, eyes crinkling, dimple forming, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“i love you too,” he says, like he’s been holding it in for far too long.

you don’t even let him finish before you’re leaning in, pulling him into a kiss that says everything your words can’t.

seven months in heaven.

heaven. that’s what it felt like to be consumed by jung jaehyun. the kind of love that didn’t creep in slowly but crashed over you like a wave, sudden, wild and all-consuming.

month one. you were like two peas in a pod, stuck together at the hip. everywhere you went, he was there. almost like gravity had shifted and you couldn’t help but orbit each other. the whole campus watched the two of you. some in envy, some in awe. but none of it mattered because in your world, it was just you and him.

you clung to him like a koala, constantly reaching for him — his hand, his hoodie, his attention. and he absolutely adored every second of it. adored you.

he picked you up after every class, waiting at the door like he belonged there. he drove you home with one hand on the wheel, the other in yours. played your favorite songs, and teased you when you tried to sing along off-key.

most nights, he stayed over. his skin wrapped around yours like a second layer of warmth. and when he didn’t, you’d fall asleep in one of his shirts, phone resting on your chest after hours of late-night calls. his voice the last thing you heard before drifting off.

month two. you stopped saying me and started saying we.

there was a toothbrush for him, right next to yours, in your apartment. and a matching one in his dorm. you had a growing collection of his hoodies in your closet. he pretended not to notice but his smile gave him away every time you wore one.

you know all of his schedules and he memorized yours without trying. you’ve cancelled plans just to stay in, legs tangled on the couch, sharing dreams like secrets under warm blankets and future plans whispered between kisses.

it started to feel like a forever kind of thing.

month three. you were still coasting down honeymoon avenue, but now it came with the deeper things.

late night vulnerability, childhood stories, the fears he never told anyone else, the ones you didn’t even know you could speak aloud.

you shared each other’s pressure. shared each other’s troubles. you were there when things got too much, becoming his personal safe haven and you, his.

when the world was too loud, too cruel, too overwhelming – you had each other. that was all you both needed.

month four. i love you wasn’t just something you said. it lived in your actions. it was jaehyun massaging your hands after a long day. you memorizing his coffee order down to the way he liked the foam. the way he always buckled your seatbelt for you.

his car playlists was filled with songs you love. there are pieces of you in the compartment box, a lipgloss, a scrunchie, a tiny pouch filled with your basic essentials.

your fridge was filled with his favorite snacks, his favorite beer. love letters on sticky notes he would leave behind tuck in between the magnets.

and on quiet nights, you fell asleep on his lap as he traced your face with his fingertips like he was trying to memorize you forever. he looked at you like you were a poem he never wanted to stop reading.

and one night he whispered in your ear, “it’s you and me forever, baby.”

and you believed him.

month five. things got a little quieter. not in a bad way. just…settled.

less adrenaline and more comfort. routine settled in but you liked it. you liked knowing he’d be there. you liked how he could tell when you were anxious just by your breathing.

he’d squeeze your thigh gently under the table during group dinners just to comfort you.

you’d look at him and feel like you were home. he was home.

month six. fights began, but they were soft.

little misunderstandings. jealousy here and there. moments where your insecurities brushed up against his.

but every argument ended the same way. his forehead against yours, apologies and i love you’s slipping out between sighs. he’d kiss your temple like he was sealing a wound and you’d forgive him. of course you would.

and besides, his red flags weren’t red. they were beige. soft, muted, easy to overlook in the warmth of everything else.

month seven. you got busy. he got anxious. texts were left on read a little longer. calls ended faster.

but when you were together, it still felt like heaven. his touch still sets you alight. your laugh still made him smile like it was the first time he’d heard it.

he’d still looked at you like you were everything.

and that was enough. wasn’t it?

the first real crack.

“babe, i think we’re lost,” you say, your voice gentle but laced with nervous laughter, trying to keep the mood light.

your eyes flick toward jaehyun, who’s gripping the steering wheel tighter than before, taking yet another left at a stop sign that looks hauntingly familiar.

the sun was already beginning to set, washing the sky with orange and purple hues, but instead of basking in its beauty, the two of you were trapped in an unfamiliar neighborhood, google maps stubbornly rerouting with every turn.

you peek at him from the passenger seat, watching the way his jaw tightens.

“would it kill you to give the right directions for once?” he mutters, not even looking at you.

the sentence lands heavier than it should. it isn’t just about directions. you know that. and maybe he does too.

your smile fades as you blink at him. “sorry…i thought i was.”

he exhales through his nose, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “you always think you’re right, even when you’re not.”

and there it is. not a yell. not a fight. but something colder. detached. dismissive.

it’s the way he says always like it’s not just this moment but a flaw in your character. something he’s been cataloging along the way.

it’s silent. the kind of silence that doesn’t feel peaceful. the kind that buzzes in your ears and makes your chest feel too tight. you look out the window, trying to calm your breathing, trying not to let the sting behind your eyes turn into tears.

you’ve had fights, sure. arguments over little things, forgotten plans, mixed signals, late replies. but he’s never spoken to you like that before. never made you feel small.

you’ve seen jaehyun tired. you’ve seen him frustrated. but not like this. not with this edge. and for the first time since the two of you got together, you realize that love doesn’t shield you from moments like these. that even someone who sings you songs and holds you gently through the night can sound distant and cold.

eventually, he pulls over and cuts the engine. the car humming in the silence.

“baby,” he calls out, softer now, quieter. you don’t answer. just stare out the window.

he leans back against the headrest, rubbing his hands over his face, “i didn’t mean that,” he murmurs, voice heavy with regret.

still, you don’t respond. because maybe he didn’t mean it but he still said it and part of you wonders what else he’s thought and never voiced.

he sighs, “i’m sorry...i just, i’ve had a long week, and i wanted today to go perfectly and now we’re lost and running late and…” he trails off, frustration melting into guilt.

“you snapped at me,” you say finally, still not looking at him, “and i didn’t deserve that.”

“no, you didn’t,” he agrees. “i was out of line.”

you finally turn to face him and he looks… regretful. like he wants to rewind time. like he’s already punishing himself.

“i love you,” he adds, almost like a plea.

you nod slowly, your voice quiet. “i love you too, but don’t talk to me like that again.”

“i won’t,” he promises.

and you believe him. you always do.

but something unspoken lingers in the car after that. a sliver of tension that stays with you. because no matter how many i love you’s follow, you don’t forget the first time someone makes you feel like you’re too much.

jaehyun reaches across the console and gently takes your hand. you let him. and the car keeps driving, this time in silence, but with your fingers laced together like a quiet truce.

it’s the first real crack.

but sometimes, the cracks let everything else in.

the blonde.

frat parties were never your scene. sticky floors, booming bass, red solo cups, and bodies pressed too close together, it all felt too loud, too overwhelming. you haven’t been in one in a while but since your boyfriend was one of the frat’s favorite golden boys and the fact he practically begged you to come to the one tonight, here you were, weaving your way through the crowd in one of his oversized hoodies, searching for the only reason you even showed up.

you spot him before he sees you, standing dead center in the living room, drink in hand, laughing at something the girl in front of him said. giving her the dimpled smile you thought was only reserved for you.

she’s tall. blonde. pretty, in that effortless, dangerous way. the kind of girl you never learned how to be.

and her hand is on his arm. too familiar. too comfortable. she laughs again, tilting her head back, fingers tracing his bicep like it belongs to her. like she’s done it before. like she knows he won’t stop her.

he doesn’t flinch. doesn’t pull away. just smiles, lazy and amused as she leans in closer, lips brushing his ear as she whispers something that makes him laugh again.

your stomach churns.

it’s irrational, maybe. but also, maybe it’s not. maybe it’s the way her hand lingers too long. or the way he leans in like he doesn't even notice. or maybe it’s the way it makes you feel invisible in a room where you were supposed to be his favorite person.

then he sees you. his eyes meet yours through the crowd. locking for just a second. and something in his expression falters, like he didn’t expect to see you. like he forgot you’d be here.

and suddenly, you’re the one who looks away. like you’re the intruder. like you’re the one who was doing something wrong.

moments later, his arms snake around your waist from behind, “hey baby,” jaehyun murmurs in your ear, voice low and thick with alcohol, “you came.”

his breath is warm against your skin as he presses wet, messy kisses along your jaw and down your neck. he smells like whiskey and whatever cheap cologne she was probably wearing. his grip tightens like he’s afraid you’ll slip away but your body stays stiff in his hold.

you twist slightly to face him, placing a hand on his chest, a quiet boundary.

“who was that?” you ask, trying to sound casual, light, but the slight edge in your voice betrays you.

“hmm?” he hums, lips still trailing your skin.

“the girl. the one you were talking to.”

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. his gaze is hazy, but amused, he knows you too well. “have i ever told you how cute you are when you’re jealous?,” he teases, sucking that soft spot right below your ear.

you push him back. gentle but firm. your expression is blank. he notices.

“she’s just an old friend,” he adds casually, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear like that makes it all better, “don’t worry about it.”

and maybe that should be enough.

but something about the way he says it, the way he smiles, too easy, too quick to disregard your feelings. it all leaves a strange, sour taste in your mouth.

still, you don’t push it. not here. not in front of the crowd. not when he’s swaying slightly on his feet and leaning all his weight into you like you’re his safe place. like he doesn’t even realize how tightly your jaw is clenched.

later, in his room, it’s just the two of you with the door closed and the world outside muffled. he’s quieter now. less drunk. but his hands are still greedy. still tracing the places he’s always claimed a map he knows by heart. his hands finding their way beneath your shirt, along your thighs, between your legs.

you don’t stop him. because it’s easier to fall into him than to fight the pit in your stomach. easier to let yourself believe his mouth on your neck means i choose you. easier to kiss him back, let your clothes fall, let your bodies tangle in the dark. let yourself believe this means he’s still yours. all yours.

the sex is slow, tender, familiar. all mouths and murmurs and fingers threading through hair. he whispers your name like a prayer, like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the moment. he moves inside you like you’re the only thing tethering him to this moment. like if he touches you hard enough, long enough, all the cracks will seal shut again. and for a while, you forget. you forget the party. the blonde. the ache in your chest.

you just feel him.

“i love you,” he breathes. you say it back.

but when it’s over, when you’re curled against his chest, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your back, your eyes stay open in the dark.

his body is warm. his arms are wrapped around you. but something still feels different. something feels off.

like the air’s a little heavier. the silence is a little louder. your mind is miles away. still watching her laugh. still wondering why he didn’t move away.

you don’t ask. you don’t cry. you don’t accuse. you just lie there in the silence. and he doesn’t notice. or maybe he does but he doesn’t ask.

and that’s the part that stings the most. because love is still there. but the trust?

that might be the thing slipping quietly through the cracks.

the surprise.

it had been a brutal couple of weeks. your schedule had been merciless consisting of clinicals, overflowing textbooks, late-night study groups and back-to-back lectures. you barely had time to breathe. let alone see your boyfriend.

but you missed him. god, you missed him.

so today, on your first free day in weeks, you chose him. you skipped the library. you shut your laptop. you pushed aside your exhaustion and made time.

you spent the day learning how to make his favorite dish, the one he said tasted like home, the one he said he missed. you got the ingredients, followed the recipe, burnt it once, then tried again. the kitchen was a mess but your heart was full. you wanted it to be perfect.

you were nervous but excited. the kind of excitement that makes your fingers tingle and your heart race a little faster.

you hadn’t told him you were coming, you wanted to surprise him, make up for the time you’d been gone.

as you approached his dorm, your nerves bubbled up again. you balanced the container in your hands, smoothing your hair and checking your phone. no texts. even better. he had no idea that you were coming.

you knock once. no answer. you try the knob. it’s locked. you pulled out a duplicate of his key, the one he had made for you. hear the door click open.

and you step inside with a soft smile already forming, “jae?”

but his name dies in your throat. the smile doesn’t last. because there, tangled in his sheets, is jaehyun. half naked. sleepy-eyed. and she’s with him. the blonde.

your whole body stills, breath vanishing, fingers going numb, the container slipping from your hands and hitting the floor with a hearbreaking thud. you think you hear the lid crack open, food spilling out but you can’t look away from the bed.

from her. her mascara smudged, hair a mess, lips swollen.

jaehyun’s eyes follow hers, dazed, then panicked the second he sees you, “y/n.”

just your name. not baby.

“i—this—,” he stumbles over his words, sheet pooling at his waist as he sits up, guilt written across his face.

you don’t want to hear it. not the excuses. not the explanations. all you can see is the truth laid bare in front of you. her in his shirt, him in her arms, your world unraveling at your feet along with the meal you made just for him.

“this was supposed to be a surprise,” you whisper, your voice trembling, quiet and broken, like if you spoke any louder, you’d shatter completely.

“it’s not what it looks like!,” he pleads, getting up, grabbing his jeans like it would fix anything.

but it is what it looks like. it’s exactly what it looks like.

and it breaks you.

you blink once, twice, the tears blur the room but you don’t let them fall. not yet. “i really… really tried to make this work,” you say, your voice cracking, “i gave you everything i could and you—” you choke back the tears burning at the back of your throat, “you gave it to her.”

jaehyun looks like he’s about to break, but you don’t let him speak. you can’t. because you knew that if you stay any longer, if you let him reach you, touch you, beg you…you’d forgive him. you’d fold. you’d believe in him again. and he doesn’t deserve that.

so you turn. and you leave. you don’t look back. not even when he calls your name. not even when he runs after you, barefoot in the hall.

you don’t stop.

life without him.

the first week, you didn’t talk much. your voice felt foreign in your own throat. your phone buzzed more than usual. sometimes you wished his name would pop up but it never did. the only ones who cared enough were your friends. the ones who kept asking if you were okay. the ones who were quick to offer wine nights, sleepovers, distractions.

you appreciated it. but the truth was you weren’t okay. far from it. and the distractions never worked. but the silence always returned. every night. and maybe the absence was worse than the betrayal.

because every hallway you walked through had a memory of him. your brain betrayed you by replaying flashes of his smile. his hoodies still filled up half of your closet. his toothbrush was still next to yours. but he was no longer there.

the second week, you cried more. everything reminded you of him. the cars driving by, the campus cafe you both used to meet at where you once spent entire afternoons doing nothing but sharing fries and laughter, the songs that played.

worse than missing him was knowing that you weren’t allowed to anymore. not after what he did.

because the boy you missed, the one who kissed you at red lights, the one who wrote you a song. that boy chose someone else. with the same hands that used to only reach for you.

you try to explain it to your friends over dinner one night, but they don’t get it. they mean well. but they didn’t know him the way you did.

they didn’t see the version of jaehyun who whispered dreams into your ear at 3 a.m. who played you lullabies on his guitar when you couldn’t sleep. who kissed your knuckles before every exam and told you he believed in you. who made playlists just for long drives. who taught you how to parallel park without ever raising his voice.

so when they say things like “you’re better off” or “he didn’t deserve you anyway,” it doesn’t help.

it only makes you feel worse. because even if he doesn’t deserve you, you still want him. you still ache for him in every quiet moment.

and no one could unteach your heart what it already knew.

the third week, you almost called him. just once. your finger hovers over his name in your phone. but you don’t press it. because what would you even say? why wasn’t i enough? was she better? do you miss me? do you still love me?

no. you couldn’t do that to yourself no matter how badly you wanted answers.

you tried to return the pieces of him that haunts your space. walked all the way to his dorm, box in hand. but when you got to the door, the weight of it hit you so hard you turned right around and left. instead, you shoved everything under your bed. hoodie, pictures, all of the gifts he gave you throughout your relationship.

and you don’t call. you cry into your pillow instead.

the fourth week, you finally go to class again, with lipstick on. it’s not much. it doesn’t mean you’re over him. but it means you can at least walk into a room and not completely fall apart.

you even manage to laugh once, something your friends don’t miss. they send each other secret smiles when you’re not looking. they know it’s a good sign.

and even though you’re still grieving, still aching, still remembering him every time you hear a guitar strum, you start to find little moments of peace. not joy, not yet. but peace. tiny and fragile. but enough.

life without you.

he wanted to call, god, he wanted to.

every day since you left, his fingers hovered over your name. your contact was still saved with a heart beside it. still in his emergency. still starred.

the day you walked in on him — standing frozen with the lunchbox in your hands and tears burning in your eyes turned into a haunting memory.

you didn’t scream. you didn’t yell. you just looked at him like he’d shattered something sacred. and he ran after you, barefoot, panicked, half-dress and breathless.

but he stopped. and maybe that’s the part that haunts him the most.

he never called. not because he wasn’t sorry. not because he didn’t care. but because he didn’t know how to face the wreckage he caused. because deep down, he knew you deserved more than what he gave you. more than the version of himself that let you down in the worst way.

and the worst part? he had fallen for the blonde.

not in the way he fell for you, not the meteoric, world-tilting, i wrote you a song, kind of way.

but in a way that required no gravity. no weight. no soul.

he didn’t have to fight for the blonde. she showed up at every party, laughed at his jokes without really knowing what they meant. she kissed him like it was expected, not treasured. and she had time…time he hadn’t gotten from the girl he used to sit under the stars with.

he remembered that ache too well. the way you would cancel plans because of labs, fall asleep with textbooks in your lap instead of his arms, show up late with guilt in your eyes and coffee in your hands, apologizing with forehead kisses and tired smiles.

he missed you even then. missed the weight of your head on his chest. missed the silence you could sit in together without it ever feeling awkward. missed the way you loved him in your own quiet, exhausted ways.

but at some point, he got tired of missing you. of waiting. of feeling like second place to your ambition, your plans, your future he couldn’t see himself in.

so when the blonde leaned in close at that party, when her laugh filled the space that had been empty for too long, he didn’t pull away. he let it happen. over and over. until “don’t worry about it” turned into something else. something messier.

but nothing about it ever felt like you.

because every time she said his name, it never sounded right. every time she touched him, it didn’t burn like you. and no matter how many nights he spent tangled up in her limbs, he couldn’t get the memory of you out of his head.

he didn’t call. because he didn’t know what he’d say. because saying “i’m sorry” wouldn’t be enough. and saying “i still love you” would only hurt more.

he still played his guitar, but the songs didn’t sound the same. they didn’t come easy like they did when you were sitting cross-legged on his bed, humming along. he still laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. he scrolled through your socials more than he’d ever admit. he saw the smiles you posted with new cafes, new books, new friends. he wondered if you still thought of him. wondered if you hated him. worried that you didn’t.

sometimes at night, he found himself dreaming about you. vivid, disorienting dreams where you were still together, lying on the hood of his car with your fingers laced and the stars overhead. he’d wake up with tears in his eyes, and the blonde would ask what’s wrong?

he never had the heart to tell her.

he never had the heart to call you.

so instead, he stayed quiet. learned to live with the silence. with the guilt. with the ghost of a love that used to fill every corner of his world.

even as it killed him a little more each day.

three months after.

you passed each other on campus once. your hair was cut short, his has grown a little longer. both of you slowed. both of you looked. neither of you stopped.

he looked tired. not in a bad way. just older, like life weighed on him a bit. his hoodie was wrinkled. he had a stubble now. and he looked at you like you were the last page of a book he still wasn’t ready to put down.

there was a twitch in his fingers, a muscle memory of reaching for you. you saw it. you felt it. and you hated how much it made your chest ache. how your heart stuttered like it remembered a song it used to know by heart.

tha air between you was thick. electric. so many words. none of them spoken. he opened his mouth slightly as if to say your name but no sound came out. and you? you thought of every version of him you’d ever loved. including the one that cheated on you.

a part of you wanted to stop. to ask how he’d been. to ask if he ever missed you at 3a.m. when the world got too quiet. but you didn't. you kept walking. because what do you say to someone who once held your soul, and now only holds silence?

someone who couldn’t even love you enough to give explanations and apologies?

no words. no closure. just the aching knowledge that once, this person had been your entire world and now they were just a stranger with your memories.

back to present day. one year later.

you’d been driving for nearly an hour now, one of those late-night drives meant to quiet your thoughts, to press shuffle on a playlist full of nothing and everything. the road was nearly empty, the sky hazy with stars, and your fingers tapped anxiously against the wheel.

you didn’t even see the stop sign until it was too late. your foot slammed the brakes. the world lurched. metal kissed metal.

“holy shit!,” you yell. the jolt snapped you back to reality as your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline flushing through your veins.

of course you would crash your car the same week you got your license.

you stumbled out of the car, eyes wide, scanning for damage, panic rising in your throat. that’s when you heard it.

“y/n?!”

and your whole body froze. you didn’t have to look to know who it was.

that voice — the one you still heard in your dreams. the one that still echoed in the back of your head on days when you let yourself remember. the one you hadn’t heard in over a year but could recognize in a heartbeat. the one you made peace with.

slowly, you looked up, and there he was – jaehyun. standing on the other side of the road. frozen. like he’d seen a ghost. his jaw slack, eyes just as wide as yours.

for a second, neither of you said anything. you couldn’t.

he’s the last person you ever wanted to see in a moment like this. or maybe the first.

you swallowed hard, heat rising behind your eyes.

‘great. the universe fucking loves me.’

“hey, are you okay?” he asked, voice unsure, softer than you remembered.

his car looked fine, a little scratched on the side where your car clipped it, but nothing major. that’s when you noticed it.

“is that… a new car?”

“uh, yeah,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

his eyes didn’t meet yours and that stung more than it should’ve. that awkwardness…that silence. you once knew everything he was feeling with a glance. now, you could barely read him.

“i… i’m really sorry,” you say quickly, trying to regain your footing, “i wasn’t paying attention. i’ll cover whatever damage…we can exchange info—”

he steps closer, inspecting the scrape between your two cars, “hmm, it’s fine. no one was hurt, and the damage isn’t bad. i can just get it fixed.”

your breath catches, “are you sure?”

“yeah.” short. clipped. just like the way he left you.

you nod, crossing your arms, trying to pull yourself back together, but the silence that followed was heavy. too full of things you’d never got to say.

“…you got your license,” he says quietly.

you look up, blinking in surprise, “uh… yeah, i-i did.”

and he smiled. that same dimpled smile. the one you used to love. the one you haven’t seen in months, but still feel somewhere beneath your skin. it felt like being hit by a memory and a wave of grief at the same time.

there’s a beat.

then he turns, ready to leave. but something inside you cracks open, that quiet ache that never fully healed. so you call out, voice just barely above a whisper.

“hey…jaehyun?”

he stopped, turned back, eyes searching, “yeah?”

you swallowed, heart thudding your chest. you looked at him, really looked at him, and you saw it. the sadness in his face, the exhaustion behind his eyes.

“i just…” your voice came out softer than you intended, “i just wanted to say thank you. for teaching me.”

he stared at you for a moment and something shifted in his face. his smile this time was different. not the one you fell for. this one was heavier. more tired. more honest.

he nods once, “you’re welcome.”

and in that moment, you knew. he regretted it. the blonde, the silence, the year without you. all of it.

but you both said nothing more because what was left to say?

you didn’t need his apologies anymore. you didn’t need anything from him at all.

so you mirror his nod. and without another word, the two of you head back to your cars.

two cars. two people. driving in opposite directions.

but the ache in your chest tells you you’re both still carrying pieces of each other that no one else ever really got to touch.

and maybe that’s the saddest part.

the crash from his eyes.

he hadn’t even planned to go out that night. the party invite sat unopened in his messages. the game on the radio blurred into background noise. he just needed to drive with the windows down, mind quiet, something to drown out the guilt that still clawed at him when he was alone.

he told himself he was fine. told his friends he’d moved on. smiled when the blonde kissed his cheek in public, even though it felt like swallowing sand.

but even though he got a new number, he never deleted yours. never stopped writing songs he never finished. never got around to throwing out the old hoodie you left in his dorm until it no longer smelled like you.

he didn’t expect the crash. didn’t see it coming until it jolted his body forward, his hands tightening instinctively on the wheel. the impact wasn’t bad. just enough to shock him.

he cursed under his breath, unbuckled, and got out, already preparing to reassure whoever hit him. but then he heard it.

“holy shit!”

that voice. your voice. his blood ran cold. he turned. and time stopped.

you were standing there, heart pounding, wide-eyed, with your car door open and your hands shaking. you looked older but still so god damn beautiful it hurt to breathe.

“y/n?!”

your name escaped before he could stop it. and when you turned to face him, something inside him cracked open.

he hadn’t seen you in a year. three hundred and sixty-five days of pretending he didn’t miss you.

of pretending it didn’t kill him every time someone brought you up. now here you were. like a ghost he hadn’t been ready to face and he was the idiot who still dreamed about you.

“hey, are you okay?” he asked, because what else could he say?

you nodded, clearly shaken, eyes flickering over the cars, the scratch, the damage, anything but him.

“is that… a new car?” you asked.

he ran a hand through his hair, forcing a breath,“yeah.”

he didn’t tell you that it was his way of trying to erase you. couldn’t tell you that it made it worse because now the passenger seat felt empty in the wrong ways.

you apologized, of course you did, still so considerate. still so gentle. even when he was the one who wrecked everything first.

“i’ll cover the damage…we can exchange info…”

god. you were nervous. rambling. and he hated that you were talking to him like a stranger.

“it’s fine,” he said quietly. because no scratch on a bumper could compare to the wreckage of you leaving his life.

“are you sure?” you sounded uncertain. like you didn’t trust him anymore.

you were right not to.

“yeah,” he said again. bare. hollow. final.

he should’ve told you then. told you that he still thought about you every time he passed the cafe on campus. that the blonde was long gone, that she never really stayed, because she could feel what he didn’t say. that the only reason he hadn’t called was because he didn’t know how to say i never stopped loving you without falling apart.

but instead, he said something stupid.

“you got your license.”

and when you smiled, shy and small, it undid him. that smile. that softness. the same one that made him feel like maybe love didn’t have to hurt.

you didn’t say much. didn’t ask how he was. didn’t offer closure. not like, he deserved it. but then, just as he turned to leave, you stopped him.

“hey…jaehyun?”

his name on your lips again. he turned, heart thudding, eyes burning.

“i just wanted to say thank you. for teaching me.”

and he almost lost it right there. because that was you, even now. still choosing gratitude over bitterness. still offering peace, when all he’d left you with was silence.

“you’re welcome,” he whispered.

but what he really wanted to say was:

i’m sorry. i never meant to hurt you. you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and i didn’t realize it until it was too late. i think I’ll always love you.

instead, he watched you return to your car. and he did the same.

he drove off into the night with a hollow in his chest that hadn’t shrunk in a year and he knows that missing space will always be in your hands.

THE END.

͙͘͡★

an: finishing this feels likes a breath of relief not gonna lie. thank you for reading! let me know who you would like to see in this series! i’m thinking maybe johnny with enough for you next? but idk! leave your thoughts with me if you’d like <3

[verycoolusername1]

Work Crush

Summary: Your fellow co-workers at The Daily Planet believe that Clark has a little crush on you.

Clark Kent x co-worker!reader

A/N: idk what this is... idk if I should go through with writing for other characters/people(I only write for hockey players) so this is something new.

I also have never worked in an office so this might suck... And I haven't watched the movie(yet) I apologize if I don't write some characters right.

Hope you guys enjoy reading!

You walked through the bullpen as if you owned it(you were going to be head of chief one day or the other), carrying multiple typed out papers you were given too by some interns.

"Lois, not funny." You pointed at her and put the papers on her desk.

Lois just laughs. "Still can't believe they did it."

You sat down at your desk and kicked her in the leg playfully. "Of course they did, you're Lois Lane. You're practically the Beyoncé of the Daily Planet right now."

"Hmm, you're right. I should be using my power to full potential."

"Not what I meant, you idiot. You don't get paid to annoy me."

"Not my fault it's just so nice to do." Lois began reading through the papers.

You sighed and began to focus more on your work, this article about Lex Luthor being corrupt wasn't gonna write itself.

Cat Grant twirled her hair as she observed the two of you.

"Are you two single?" She asked, looking between the two of you.

You glanced up. "Uh yeah, why?"

Clark, who has been staying silent the whole time accidently knocked his papers over as soon as the words slipped from your mouth. His cheeks flushed as he began to pick up the papers.

You began to help him and your hand accidentally brushed against his, you swore you saw his cheeks flush even more.

"Thanks, you uh didn't have to help." He stood up awkwardly as he took the papers from you, and placed them back on his desk.

"It's fine." You nodded.

Clark suddenly muttered something about needed to use the bathroom and walked away.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Superman zooming away at a rapid speed, most likely to help someone out of danger.

Cat and Lois shared a look, Jimmy walked through the bullpen passing Clark on the way.

"Oh hey Olsen, you got my photos." You looked at him.

Jimmy grinned. "Of course, only for the best reporter in Metropolis... besides Lois."

"Just saved your life there." Lois snorted.

"Did you see the way Clark acted around you?" Cat spoke up.

"What do you mean? Didn't notice anything." You replied.

"His face was like so red." Lois commented. "Got even redder when your hands brushed, barely touched."

"Okay, what are you two getting at?" You asked.

"Clark obviously has a crush on you." She explained.

Cat explained further. "He's so... shy around you. Shyer than usual and more awkward." Lois nodded to Cat's words.

"Are you two actually agreeing right now? I must be dreaming." You rolled your eyes.

"As his best friend, I can confirm that he definitely has a crush on you." Jimmy came over and handed you the photos. "His eyes like light up whenever he's talking about you."

You took the photos. "His eyes light up?"

Jimmy nodded. "He's always talking about how nice you look this day or how amazing your piece in the paper was, and he just has this stupid grin on his face when he does it. Really annoying."

Your cheeks turned slightly pink. "You're kidding."

Jimmy shook his head, while Lois asked you a question. "Well enough about Clark, how do you feel?"

All their eyes locked on you as they waited for your answer.

You shrugged in your seat. "I mean... he's not bad to look at. Has nice facial features, He's very nice and caring. He's like... the idea of everyone's dream man."

"But do you think he's your dream man?" Cat asked.

Your cheeks flushed even more as you processed the question.

"Well realistically... he's all I ever wanted in a man." You admitted.

You looked at the three of them, all of them dead silent and are giving you an awkward smile. "...He's right behind me." Lois gave you a subtle nod.

You turned around in your chair and there he was. Standing there adjusting his tie nervously with his cheeks tinted pink.

The rest of your co-workers avoided their eyes and pretended to focus on their work, Cat glancing at the two of you every couple minutes.

"So... I'm assuming you heard that conversation?" You looked at Clark, who nodded sheepishly. "They tried telling me you had like a small crush on me, I didn't believe-"

"Well that's where you're wrong, I- I do have a crush on you, and uh it's isn't small." Clark cuts you off with a nervous chuckle.

You looked at Clark, jaw agape. "You- what?"

Clark smiled shyly. "Yeah, I have a crush on you. Had this crush for months actually and I'm guessing from that conversation... you have a crush on me too?" He guessed hopefully.

"Yeah, I do." You shrugged. "You gonna do something about it, farm boy?"

Clark chuckled nervously at the nickname. "We can go to that Italian restaurant down the street... I heard from a friend(that friend being Jimmy) that it's pretty good." Clark offers.

You nodded. "Tomorrow evening then, after work. It's a date." You smiled at him.

Clark's eyes brighten at your a smile and made a promise to himself to get you to smile all the time.

However before he could respond, Perry White, with a disapproving yet amused look stepped out of his office. Having seen the whole commotion even before Clark came back,

"Everyone get back to work," Perry barked out an order. "We're not here to gossip." He grumbled.

"Such slackers." Steve muttered under his breath.

[thehauntedetheral]

Yandere Vampire X Vampire Hunter Reader

Requests are open!

• In the supernatural world where vampire rules. The king vampire has given specific regions to his close vampires to rule and maintain for him. Yan Vampire is the ruler of your region. But for some time he has been getting a lot anonymous threats to kill him and some accidents has happened too. But him being stubborn avoids taking precautions and says "I can handle this."

• His sister is worried for his safety as next week is the global meeting where every regional chief is present with their people and reporting updates about their region to other chiefs and the king.

• His sister is worried that the anonymous threat would take opportunity of the crowd and do some harm to yan so she comes with a plan to you a Vampire hunter without her brother's knowledge.

• She tells you her plan which is you a FUCKING VAMPIRE HUNTER to protect him. A VAMPIRE HUNTER WHO KILLS VAMPIRE AS THEIR PROFESSION IS ASKED TO PROTECT ONE???!!!

• "Are you insane?" You asked in disbelief after hearing her plan. "You know the meaning of vampire hunter, right?" You asked thinking she might be misunderstanding the term.

"I know what a vampire hunter is and what they do. Someone is trying to kill my brother and by the clues we are sure that it is a vampire who is trying to kill him." She says with a calm tone her blood red eyes looking at you. Her vampiric beauty glowing.

"You want me your brother who is also a vampire to protect him from some other Vampire at that global meeting sort thing of you vampires?" You said trying to make sense of everything.

"Yes. I will give you any amount you want. And protecting the regional chief of the region you live will give you many advantages till you die". The female Vampire said giving you a tempting offer which you can't refuse.

"But there is one problem. I have a solution for it too. But I am afraid you won't like the solution I came up with." She said with a slight disappointment over her face.

"What is it?"

"Well in the meeting only the regional chiefs and their family are allowed to attend. We have to make you pretend as the family member to attend with us. If they found out you are a Vampire hunter even I and my brother won't be able to protect you from the king."

You a single vampire hunter present in a room with thousands of vampire and a single mistake you would be dead in less than a millisecond just thinking about this caused you goosebumps. But it was now or never. You wanted that money.

"Okay. What family member do I have to pretend to be?"

"Well.... His human fiancee." The vampire said with hesitation.

"WHAT?!!"

"Well you are a human and we are vampires no way we can be family biologically so it only leaves to one option his fiancee just a fake one. After the work is done you are free to do whatever you want. And by being his fiancee you can be near him all the time protecting without any suspicious of others." The Vampire tried to explain.

"Okay. But I will take more money to pretend to be that old as fossils vampire's fiancee" You said with a deep frown.

"Just say the amount and it's your." The Vampire female and you shaked hands closing the deal. While Yan Vampire doesn't have a single idea what type of chaos his sister is going to bring in his life through you.

Get ready for being stuck with the grumpy Vampire protecting him from others while pretending to be his fake human fiancee. I hope I myself don't kill him in hatred. Wish me luck! You thought to yourself.

I am thinking about making this into a series. Should I make it? What do you think? Please let me know through comments.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[weirdsht]

Dissect to Reflect - Yan!Cale/Reader

a/n: i didn't mean to go overboard, but the bad end night series suddenly started playing...

tags: no specific gender mentioned for reader, death, war, vague novel spoilers, author's horrible attempt to write horror, yandere cale, manipulation and gaslighting if you squint, everyone is unhinge if you squint

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Requests are open and welcome

Navigation Masterlist

@xjdjfbcuf said: My other request, if you have any free time: The reader was accidentally transported to a timeline where he had died. The reader doesn't know he's in a completely different world and thinks he's still in his own world. He walks back to the territory, getting a little uncomfortable with the looks he's receiving from the citizens. When he arrives at the mansion, he's greeted by a yandere Cale. I don't know if I explained my idea well, but if you have any questions about that request, ask me.

Everything happened so fast that you could barely comprehend the timeline of things.

The sword piercing you.

The searing pain.

The blood gushing.

Your body falling.

Cale catching you.

Dying feels so weird. You feel as though you're numb, yet overstimulated at the same time. Everything hurts, yet you can't feel anything. You feel the hotness of your blood, but also feel the coldness spreading through your veins.

You would think the dichotomy is weird if it wasn't for the fact that— well you're dying so you don't have time to think about anything else. 

That's why, instead of focusing on your pain you focus on Cale's face. Cale's poor, pained face. He screamed something you couldn't understand. You think he’s issuing a command but your brain is too hazy to understand. 

You know to yourself that death is sudden.

You know to yourself that death isn't something you can't control.

You know to yourself that it's bound to happen.

You know to yourself that there's nothing you can do.

But still...

You hoped that you would be given time.

Time to say goodbye.

Time to give woes.

Time to reassure.

Time to profess your love.

You've read countless books, watched countless plays where when a character dies they have time to say their last words. Say their goodbyes.

No such thing happened to you.

"What a subpar way to die..."

You thought to yourself as your eyes fluttered open.

Wait... open ??

Didn't you die?

Why would they open?

Still disoriented, you stood up from the ground and patted all around your body. True enough, you didn’t have any stabbed wounds or anything. You looked around, taking in the nature that surrounded your mortal body. The trees swaying, the wind singing, everything seems good. Nothing seemed amiss.

“Maybe it was just a horrible nightmare? I really should stop falling asleep outside, Cale would kill me if he found out.”

Finally, you left the secluded area nature has provided for you and started your journey back home.

However…

On your way back home, everyone looked at you funnily. They didn’t look at you with disdain or anything. Rain City could never look at their very own darling knight that way. No, no, they were looking at you in the same way they would look at Cale while chanting “Young Master Silver Shield”— except it was somewhat worse?

Just what did you do to warrant such stares?

“Hey Cale, why is everyone staring at me weirdly?”

You asked your redhead lover, trying to ignore the gloomy atmosphere of the villa. You think a look of surprise passed through Cale, but it was gone as fast as it came and was schooled by his usual nonchalant expression.

“They were probably just surprised to see you. Now tell me my love, where did you run off to?”

Intertwining his hands with yours, Cale leads you inside the villa. You have an inkling feeling that his holding onto you tighter than usual, but it’s not hard enough to be painful or uncomfortable. 

You decided to push aside your doubts. Chalking them up as paranoia from the bad nightmare you had.

The villa was empty, what an unusual occurrence…

“Where’s everyone?”

“They said they’re going to hang out in Raon’s castle”

“Ah… Is that so?”

Cale merely hummed questionably in response. As if asking you if you didn’t like his presence. As an answer, you kissed his intertwined hand with yours before leaning onto him as the two of you continued walking.

While walking towards your shared room you couldn’t help but notice that the atmosphere around the manor seemed to have shifted. But you couldn’t put your finger on what it feels now.

Melancholy

Sombre

Dreary

Bleak

Gloomy

Desolate

…or are you simply overthinking it?

“My love, can I confide to you about something?”

You asked your beloved later that evening after the kids had gone back to the villa and fallen asleep in your shared bed.

“Of course.”

Cale placed a bookmark in the novel he was reading before stashing it away in order to listen to you. You smiled, grateful for his undivided attention before inhaling deeply as you started your story.

“I… I think I had a dream, but it felt so real…”

You shudder at just the thought of what you supposedly dreamt of. Cale notices your discomfort and laces his hands with yours to offer you comfort. Intertwining your fingers and squeezing your hands as if to say that you don’t need to continue if you’re uncomfortable.

“When I woke up I was still disoriented… it felt so real you know? It was as if I really experienced it. To the point that I think I could still feel the pain…”

You delved into details. Explaining your woes, sharing your fears. Cale listened with open ears. He doesn’t say anything. Not because he doesn’t have anything to say, but because he doesn’t need to. Your beloved’s actions are enough for you to know that he wholeheartedly takes your concerns in mind no matter how silly you think they are.

Feeling less tense, you shifted the conversation into something more lighthearted. Cale follows your whims willingly as he always does. The two of you talked about various mundane things— from what Raon found in the forest this morning to what would be a good snack to have tomorrow. Before you know it your eyes feel heavy and you’re slurring your words as the night takes over your consciousness and lulls you into a much-needed sleep.

Cale Henituse kisses your forehead once he is sure you are asleep. A possessive glint lights his eyes as he takes in your figure. It took everything in him to not just lock you up right then and there. To not let his true feelings show and scare you away.

It took an even longer time to get his people under control. Cale was glad he managed to send them away before you arrived. He loves them, he really does, but some of them cannot act to save their lives. And he can’t have that. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, something that cannot be ruined. One wrong move and the illusion Cale has carefully crafted will be shattered.

Cale Henituse can’t have that.

For Cale Henituse can’t afford to lose you a second time.

That’s why he smiles as you play in the garden every morning. Gives into your every demand with little questions asked. Makes life with him paradise so you can’t even think of leaving his side. Suppress every urge of his that tells him to tie you by his side.

And you, poor and naive you, have an inkling feeling that something is amiss. That there’s something wrong, but life is so good, so happy.

If life with Cale seems like a dream why would you doubt him right?

Sure he seems paranoid at times. Always want to have you within sight, but that’s normal. He has lost so much, he can’t afford to lose anymore. Plus he has a lot of enemies so it’s only normal that he worries.

Your instinct tells you that it’s more than that but you ignore it.

You ignore it despite the doubt eating you inside out.

You ignore it until you finally find a reason to face what you’ve been dreading.

Every doubt you’ve been ignoring for the past months poured over a singular door.

A. Singular. Hidden. Door.

A hidden door you were sure you’d never seen before. Leading to an underground— as if the villa isn’t placed underground— you were sure wasn’t there before. 

You hadn’t meant to discover it. Accidentally stumbled upon it on the rare day that the villa was empty. On the one day that everyone had to go out for a mission issued by Cale. 

Is it fate? Is it a curse?

Should you open it? Are you ready to see the truth?

Or should you keep living in bliss?

Keep living in the carefully woven lies your beloved crafted just for you?

Despite your hesitation, you opened the door and went down the stairs. The way down was unnerving. Anxiety gnaws at your every nerve despite the staircase being well-lit. Unlike in horror novels, this hidden staircase doesn’t seem creepy. It looks constantly maintained and bright. 

But still, there’s this feeling of unease as you go head down.

Once you finally reach the end of the staircase, another door greets you just a few steps away. You held your breath as you opened the majestic, wooden door. Heart thumping in your ears as your unease heightens.

Like the staircase, the room is clean and well-lit. It’s empty, there were shelves but the items are scarce. As if someone had taken out some of the decorations. Aside from the shelves and scarce decoration there’s nothing inside.

Well except for the big, fancy, porcelain and glass box in the middle of the room.

Your breath quickened as you stared at it. Feet almost glued to the ground even if you have no idea what it is yet. There’s a feeling of knowing as your gaze lands on it. Knowing of what? You don’t know.

You’re not sure if you want to know.

But you’re already here. Already in too deep. There’s no turning back now, no erasing of memories and pretending nothing happened.

So you enter the room. Gasping as you finally figured out what that box is.

A Coffin

It was a goddamn coffin.

Your breath hitches as you slowly approach it. 

Your hands shake as you caress the sides.

Your knees feel like jello as you finally open it.

Your eyes shed tears as you stare at yourself sleeping inside the coffin.

Backing away with your trembling hand in your mouth, you didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to make of this whole situation. Fear rushes through your body. It tells you to run. Tells you to hide.

Tells you that it’s too late.

You keep backing away in that faux sense that you’re running away. That you can run away. Deep inside, you know that you can’t. That there’s no place in the world where you can hide from his eyes. 

Backing away is the only thing that you can do.

Even if that means you will eventually end up back in his arms.

With a thud, you collide with someone’s back. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was for you knew this body heat well. One of his arms circles around your waist. Usually, it would bring you comfort, but this time it brings you dread. Makes you feel trapped. Slaps you in the face that the illusion has finally shattered. 

Cale’s free hand wipes away your tears as he kisses your forehead. You can feel his eyes staring at your figure before glancing at the opened coffin. His eyes feel sharper than normal. Regret laces his voice as he spoke, yet nonchalance is evident as if this is just your typical Tuesday and not a day of big revelations. 

“I was hoping it’d take you years, but my beloved has always been too smart.”

[revelboo]

The fact that I, as a sex-neutral(maybe repulsed) asexual, love your writing enough to read over half of the characters. Including ones I didn't think I would like at first is beyond amazing. You are a god of writing. I don't even like reading smut normally, and yet I can't get enough of your work!

Speaking of, Wheeljack is such a sweetheart. Can we get more of him soon?

Thank you!

18+ Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Circuits and Wires Pt 13

Wheeljack x Reader

• Servos ghosting over warm skin, his mouth brushes your jaw. Relying on you to stop him if he crosses a line, because he knows what he wants, but he’s not sure if that’s what you’re after. I need you, those soft words spill warm through him. Giving him hope that he’s not misunderstanding you. And your little hands run over him, so soft and gentle before reaching to catch the hem of your upper covering and tugging it off to reveal skin. “You can touch me,” you whisper, expression vulnerable. Not like you’re unsure that you want him to, but like you think he won’t want to. That he might not want you and he hates that he’s given you that impression.

• “This okay?” He asks. Vocal indicators solidly red now as one of his palms rests on your lower belly and slides up. And he doesn’t move at first when you wiggle and start trying to strip out of the rest of your clothes, praying you didn’t read the whole situation completely wrong. Because if you did? If he’s not actually interested and you’re putting everything on display, you’re going to crawl into one of the vents and hide for a week in mortification. Finally, he gets with the program and shifts to stretch out beside you so you can awkwardly shimmy out of the rest of your clothes and you can’t look him in the optics when he stares at you. Now positive you just made things so painfully awkward between the two of you. That he’s not into your squishy alien self and you can’t really blame him. Something’s just wrong in your brain making you want him, alien or not.

• Reaching out he runs the tips of his servos from the base of your throat down your soft body, hesitating against your lower stomach. Afraid to move any lower. To ask for more. And you rest a hand on the back of his. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say, still refusing to look him in the optics and it’s driving him crazy. “Really, it’s fine,” you add, face reddening. Venting softly, realizing how you’ve taken his hesitation, that you think he doesn’t want you. That he doesn’t need you there against him to calm his restless mind so he can recharge all night long. Your presence reminding him to take care of himself, because skipping a meal interval means neglecting you and he can’t do that. Needs you more than he can begin to explain, looks forward to explaining things to you, to your smiles and laughter.

• “I want to,” he says, hand sliding down to cup you. Servos stroking gently, uncertainly. And his helm bumps your forehead, those blue optics on you, not what he’s doing. Watching your reaction. “What feels good to you?” Honestly? Anything right now. Just want him to touch you, hold you. Hips rocking when he presses a servo inside you, your lips part. Feel his mouth brush yours again as you cling to him, hips finding a rhythm when he strokes you.

• Your scent on every ragged intake of his vents and the taste of you on his glossa when he deepens the kiss. Your arms looping around his neck as your wet heat grips his servo. “Wheeljack,” you murmur against his lips, riding his hand chasing your pleasure. And he’s lost in the way you look, eyes opening to stare up at him, lips parting on a breathless noise. Has no idea how he’s going to explain this to the other Autobots, but then they’ve always laughed at him. Thought he was a bit off, so maybe his newfound xenophilia probably won’t surprise them at all. Because he wants you, wants all of you. You’re his best friend, but he wants more. Needs everything. Needs you.

Previous

Next

[sanospet]

✩ MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IM YOURS AGAIN ✩

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘒𝘐 𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘜𝘙𝘈 𝘟 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦 : gummy walls tightening around the thick of his shaft, tomura's brows knitting together as the coil nestling at the pit of his stomach slowly came undone, hips staggering, painting your warmth with his pearly seed, inscribing the story of your shared love on your walls like a parietal painting.

warnings and notes!

18+ . mdni . smut . angst . hurt comfort . quirkless au . fluffy ending . after care . detailed descriptions of SA . mentions of a knife . reader held at knifepoint . reader has a breakdown . heavy suggestions of reader struggling with SH . detailed fight scene (tomura beats someone’s ass) . deeply insecure reader . they’re both just trying to navigate their way through complex emotions . a whole lot of guilt and self-blaming . soft dom tomura . passionate sex . codependency . requited clinginess . praise praise praise . tomura just being a sweetheart, honestly . pet names (“baby”, “my love”, “princess”) . gender neutral reader . afab reader . reader’s sex is mentioned . proofread though there still may be some spelling mistakes, enjoy <33

authors note:

this fic is super self indulgent, i am the reader, the reader is, indeed, me, lol. it took me much longer than usual to complete, and in turn it is probably one of my longest fics yet, lol. but im happy with how it turned out, i literally daydreamed (basically me writing/directing a movie in my brain, im not sure if that’s the right term…but i do it quite frequently) this fic for like 6 hours straight from start to finish the other day and it kept replaying in my mind like a movie ever since. i needed to get it out and written down, and i wanted to do it justice, so here it is. i hope you enjoy it, and i hope i explained the complexity of their emotions and the turmoil they faced well. thanks for reading <33

(+1000 aura points to you if you caught my shrek reference)

- linus

"you can't be serious..." the question was drawled as tomura gave your outfit a once over, a slight quirk in his brow, earning a pout in response.

"what's wrong with it ?" you whined, feet shifting beneath you as you twirled, "isn't it cute ?" a sweet smile dawning your glossy lips.

tomura's eyes softened, "it is," he confirmed, "very very cute, too cute, even," gaze resting on your upper thighs, raking over the length of them in the reflection before shifting to where your skirt cut off at the back, just beneath the curve of your ass.

sighing softly with a troubled expression, "look, i wouldn't mind you wearing this if i were coming along with you, but you're seriously thinking of going out in that all alone ? to a party, no less...you'll be getting all sorts of unwanted attention from the weirdos plaguing that place."

your hands fiddled with the silver chain, attempting to clasp it behind your neck as you spoke, "tomura, in all my years of living, you're the only guy that's given me the time of day, let alone a double-take," the reality of it set a pang in your chest as you let out a soft, awkward laugh, "i'll be nothing but a fly on the wall at this party, i highly doubt anyone will try anything."

soft snowy locks swaying with a shake of his head, tomura rose from his perch on the armchair, gently shifting your hair to your front, hands replacing your own, "well you'll do it for my peace of mind, won't you ?" gaze meeting yours in the reflection, hand smoothing over the skin of your back, "if you pick out the perfect piece, i suppose." a small smirk rested on your features, tomura reading the playful glint in your eyes.

tomura sifted through the hangers, pulling out a long, brown, flowy skirt, "it's a party, tomura, not a church." shaking his head at your remark, "no, no, look," he took place behind you, laying the fabric against you, "pretty, no ?" eyes shifting from the skirt to your unimpressed ones in the reflection, "tomura..." cutting you off with an exasperated tutt, "fine, fine."

returning to his previous endeavour, "it's like you dress for the summer all year round," he mentioned, flicking through the plethora of mini skirts and dresses before him "fashion knows no weather." you replied, earning a laugh in response.

pulling out a pair of flare jeans, with hope filled eyes, "what about these ?" you shrugged, "it's a skirt kind of day" amused by your reply , "only you would come up with something like that, god, you're impossible."

"oh," you chirped, kneeling down "how about i wear some tights instead ? compromise ?" he hummed as you pulled open the drawer, "let's see them first," sifting through the load, you landed on two that would match your colour scheme, "yeah, well fishnets wont exactly help your cause," he remarked, "don't you have any of those normal ones ?" fingers combing through his locks as he watched.

"and threaten to ruin my ensemble ?" gasping, "not a chance." holding up both pairs as the man observed "pick your poison, tomura~" you joked a slight melody stringing the words together as tomura rolled his eyes, "these will do," seizing the fabric from your grip, he knelt on one knee as you rose, pulling the lace over your legs before taking place behind you, arms wrapped around your waist.

"i can change if you really want me to..." offering a faltering smile, guilt crept in for pushing back so hard, but tomura insisted, "i can take on anyone who dares touching you," setting a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder, "and i don't think i ever really want to go through your closet again, anyway," and you giggle at that.

"you remember the rules, yeah ?" he asks, earning an eager nod in return, "recite them."

"don't get too drunk," you held up a finger, "don't accept drinks from anyone, and guard my own," adding another finger, "keep my location on at all times, text you throughout the night and..." you grew quiet, "don't wander off too far from your friends" he piped in and you nodded, "but what if they're like…making out with someone ?" you questioned, "watch them." he shrugged, "ew, pervert." tutting, softly nudging your elbow into him and he laughed.

the air felt cold and void when he broke your embrace, the clock's incessant ticking toward your departure doing nothing to aid your growing anxiety about your separation with tomura for the night.

"are you sure you can't come with me ?" voice pleading as you trailed close behind him to the kitchen, "i wasn't invited, love." he swallowed thickly as the words left his cracked lips.

he wanted nothing more than to accompany you, the thought of being parted for so long having glass shards set in his stomach, tearing him to shreds from the inside out. yet he pushed for your lonesome attendance, with the thought of you spending time and having a ball with the friends you adored so.

"im sure they'll let you in regardless," brows upturned, eyes soon to be wet with tears, "besides, i don't think security will be that tight, anyway..." placing an opened bottle of ukon no chikara in your hand, he lifted it to your lips, tipping it as you swallowed.

"you know i'm just a phone call way, baby," he smiled, "and i can come and pick you up at anytime.”

placing the small, empty bottle on the counter, "well you don't have to stay up if you're not coming along," you couldn't help the pout that formed, saturating your murmured words, "i could catch a ride with my friend or something."

raising your gaze with a hooked finger beneath your chin, "you know i can't fall sleep without you, love, and i'm pretty sure i need to be awake to answer your messages," thumb shifting to gently stroke your cheek, "and i love your friends, truly, i do, but there's no way i'm letting them drive you home when they're drunk."

"i could get a taxi..." his brows furrowed at that, "and im sure they'd be just as bad as the creeps at the party, love."

nodding at the words, shifting to the balls of your feet, noses brushing together with a smile, your lips meeting in a gentle touch. his hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer as he deepened it, tongue pushing past your lips, the subtle taste of your cherry flavoured lipgloss accompanying it.

"i'll miss you," parting, your breath fanning against his lips as you spoke, "i'll miss you too," he smiled softly.

"do you have everything you need ?" you hummed, moving to grab your small bag from the counter, handing it to him to look over, "and do you really need three lip products ?" he questioned through a breathy laugh as you plucked the lip gloss from his grasp, using the aid of your compact mirror to reapply it. "lip shades are like mood rings, tomura, they change with my emotions."

phone screen lighting up with a message, "she's here already ?" he questioned, failing to suppress the disappointment in his tone, earning a nod as he placed the device in your bag, following you to the front door as you slipped on your shoes.

turning to him, "how do i look ?" clammy hands smoothing over the fabric of your skirt, he neared you, tucking your hair behind your ear, "perfect," he smiled, eyes raking over your appearance, "absolutely perfect."

                               ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

the music seemed to permeate through your eardrums, rattling in your head and you could feel the thumping of the bass in your chest as it played, the alcohol mellowing it out just enough for it to be enjoyable. your body felt loose as you  swayed to the melodies, singing along amongst the crowd of perspiring bodies.

your friends had split as the party drew on, dotting around the oversized living area, hidden in corners and splayed on the leather couches at the centre of it all, preoccupied with their newfound love interests for the night, though you lingered near them.

as your buzz began to subside and the itch for another drink began to set in, your head spun, eyes scanning for a friend of yours to accompany you to fetch one, ruling out the few who had made their way to the second floor in hopes of finding an empty room, dwindling the group to just two, both who seemed to still be busy with the acts of exploring their dates bodies, your defeated sigh was unheard over the music as your feet shifted toward the kitchen.

the ceiling was just as tall as the ones you'd seen prior, the room almost soundproof as you closed the door behind you, warm lighting illuminating the dark oak of the cabinets and the hefty island that stood tall in the middle of it, housing a mix of opened half drunken bottles, crushed solo cups and beer cans as well as your bag.

the bright blue cooler almost shone in contrast, juxtaposed by the mahogany in which it rested upon and you reached in for another cider, before aiming to head out.

bumping harshly into the chest of another, you stumbled back, feeling a tight grip on your wrist and the deep, slightly slurry voice that followed "my bad, are you alright ?" speech failing you, an eager nod was all you could manage, your gaze searing into his tight grip.

finger hooking under your chin, a large smirk growing as he gave you a once over, "well, what's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone at a party like this, hm ?" words laced in excitement, "your friends ditch you or something ? did you lose your way ?"

breath hitching, his touch soldering, blazing your skin, your mind fell numb, heart rate only rising as you attempted to voice back, "i..." the lump forming in your throat swallowed your sound, "i came to get a drink," you pushed, voice low, his gaze moving to the cider in your hand, as you pulled your confined wrist from his grip, "excuse me." head hung, you took a step to leave, the searing cuffs of his calloused hands forming its assault once more on your upper arm, grip bruising.

"oh, c'mon, don't deny a guy so harshly," tone grating, whining almost "we can have some fun of our own." his voice deepened, slowly twisting your arm in his grasp, forcing you to meet him once more as you turned, the only solution to stop the growing discomfort and pain blossoming as you suppressed a cry, the can falling to the ground at the harsh tug.

"l-let me go!" yanking your arm toward you in order to free yourself, he only followed, chest slamming against yours, "eager, aren't we ?" he smirked.

stomach churning, the taste of copper sat heavy on your tongue as he placed a hand on your hip, his grip all but crushing. pushing your lower back against the island, his head dipping into the curve of your neck, "stop!" the attempted yell was more of a chirp, "i have a boyfriend!"

riled and raged, the man pulled back with an irritated sigh, lazily glancing around the empty space, "i don't see him," mocking bitterly.

the words set the fiery pit in your stomach ablaze as you continued "he's on his way," you convinced, "just a few minutes until he arrives."

"well i guess that earns us a few minutes to get this over with," you continued your aggressive attempt to break free, soon stilling as the sensation of a cold and sharp object made its presence pushed up against your exposed stomach, "wouldn't you agree ?" lips grazing against your ear as he spoke, laughing softly, pulling back at your silence with a smile, "god, you're so much hotter once you shut the fuck up." he sighed, eyes raking over your face, observing.

your breathing shallowed, almost diminishing completely as your face paled, his lips moving lazily against the soft flesh of your neck. animalistic groans almost reverberating on your smooth skin, teeth grazing harshly as he nibbled, his eyes shut tight. fingers inching up your thighs, crawling beneath your skirt, goosebumps rising in the trail of his vulgar touch.

the growing pit of repulsion and guilt in your stomach threatened to force up the drinks you'd had, and as your eyes glazed over, thoughts of tomura flooding your brain, the sensation of a sprouting rose deep in your heart followed, its unforgiving thorns shredding the pumping organ in its wake.

"s-stop..." you forced through a shaky breath, "please...you don't have to do this," pleading, he continued on, teeth grazing against you harshly, earning a pained whimper, "t-there are so many people here, there's gotta be someone who would jump at the chance to sleep with you tonight..." meeting you once more, eyes lidded, filled with need, the sight sending jagged shards of terror down your straightened spine, "you think ?" you nodded eagerly, "cute, but, the thing is i want to sleep with you tonight, so they're a little out of luck, aren't they ?" smirking, words filled with mockery and snark, as he looked toward the clock, "seems like your boyfriend is running a little late," tracing the flat edge of the cold weapon against the dip of your waist, "let's make the most of it, shall we ?" he whispered.

palms turning white, he gripped the glazed wooden slab tight with one hand as he rocked his hips into yours at a vigorous yet sloppy pace, the edged surface of the island bruising your lower back, his breath fanning against your ear as soft moans escaped his parted lips, head hung low.

"alastair, you in here ?" door swinging open, tufts of golden hair and amber eyes coming into view, "oh—" cutting his words short at the sight before him, analysing your position with a studied gaze, the man before you, alastair, shielding the weapon from the golden man's sight as he raised his head, "uh, we're about to play beer pong, wanna join ?" the two pairs of eyes now trained on you, "if you're not already busy, that is."

alastair hummed, face inching closer to yours, lips grazing your cheek as you turned away, "i'll be right there." sighing, turning your gaze toward him once more with a harsh grip on your chin, "next time, sweetheart ?" he willed, pushing off the counter as he pocketed the blade with a grin, setting a few taps to your cheek "next time." he replied to himself, turning to join his friend as he stumbled through the tall door.

your body remained stagnant in his wake for a while, unmoving as the cold air rushing in through the opened window coated your skin. willing yourself to move, to run, to scream, to vomit to do anything but let that scene replay in your mind for the nth time, or to think about tomura...both only causing a putrid cocktail of rage, guilt and disgust with yourself to build in your veins.

the reflection of the bathroom mirror met you after suffering the treacherous trail of making your way through the drunken, sex filled halls of the winding home you were seemingly trapped within.

a gut wrenching scream was kept locked in the back of your throat as your hands moved, vigorously rubbing and scratching against your neck and shoulders, soap and water trailing down your skin, soaking your clothing as tears crept down your face, falling into your teeth gritted mouth, breathing ragged and irregular as you worked with such force, hyperventilating.

shaky hands steadied with a firm grip on the sink, vision cloudy, tears falling with a blink, your reflection soon came back into focus. skin rubbed raw, rosy, irritated, makeup smeared, eyes wet and red, a chesty cry ripping through your throat at the sight.

you were disgusting, defiled, tainted, no amount of scrubbing and scouring could reverse the damage that had been inflicted upon you.

bag illuminating as your phone shone bright, a message coming into view as you peaked in.

tomura.

culpability gnawed at you from the inside, crawling up and into your lungs with its jagged claws, piercing gaping holes through your chest, guilt and remorse nestling in the pit of your stomach, the scorching craving for agony and torment setting in.

you deserved it, after all.

you betrayed him, had been disloyal to the overwhelming love you shared, and hadn't done enough to stop it all.

'i could've fucking tried harder' the thought was deafening, echoing in your brain and you could almost hear it, 'should've taken my chances of being stabbed than just standing there like a fucking statue and letting him have his way with me…’

heart clouded, encompassed by the grim emotions, compressed by the pressure of it all, you let out a jagged sigh, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of thoughts completely. collecting yourself to the best of your abilities, you tapped lightly at your makeup with your powder brush, intending to save it to no avail, mascara having left streaky trails, moving onto your messy hair with a tut before smoothing out your clothing and making your way downstairs.

"hey," your friend mouthed from across the main room, waving you over as you pushed past the crowd, "we're thinking about calling it a night and..." bright smile faltering, concern dawning as she took in your appearance under the dim lighting, "have you been crying ? are you okay ? what's wrong ?" hand moving to rest gently on your arm, the pad of her thumb offering strokes, "im alright," your hoarse voice pushed, "do you want me to drive you home ?" she whispered, almost worried as if her volume would shatter you completely, "i, um," you bit back, fearful that the utterance of his name aloud would set your throat ablaze, "t-tomura's c-coming to um, pick me up..." wincing at the words.

"alright, but um, i'm here if you need to talk, you know that, right ?" she spoke softly, brows upturned, eyes overflowing with worry, and you forced a smile, "i know," nodding, "thank you."

arms interlocked with hers, you finally escaped the, now seemingly claustrophobic, confines of the oversized home. offering your friend a farewell, waving to the others, you slowly made your way to tomura's parked car, his shadowy figure leaning against it.

the soles of your shoes scraping against the asphalt as you dragged your feet to continue your trek closer to him, the intense loathing, you'd been all but consumed by, threatening to take over as he waited with outstretched arms, a warm smile dawning his face.

falling into him, your body relaxing upon contact, a shuddery breath escaped your lips as the comforting scent of his cologne filled your head, arms wrapping around him despite the turmoil in your brain.

"you missed me that much, yeah ?" he let out a gentle laugh, your eyes falling shut as the melody vibrated through his chest, slightly straining as they filled with tears once more at the sound of him, despair twisting your stomach in a harsh pinch.

"_____?" words dripping in concern as he hooked a finger beneath your chin, chest tightening at the sight of you. eye whites more of a crimson shade, veiny and dried out, your neck looking more like his own, hair tousled and unkept, clothes home patches of water as it stuck to your skin, the makeup you'd perfected now streaky with canals of dried tears.

letting out a manually steadied breath, he aimed to suppress his swiftly accelerating anger in a soft veil, "what happened ?" tomura's undivided attention had your face wet once more, rivers pouring from your eyes, hiccuping as you could barely form words, apologies spilling from your lips as he guided you into the car, hoping for more privacy and peace as you explained.

"it's all my fault," you pushed as your breathing steadied once more, "i shouldn't have..." shaking your head as tears continued, voice breaking, "i-i shouldn’t have l-let him..." the car fell silent, save for the unsteady puffs of air falling from your lips. tomura's jaw clenching at the mention of another, he knew where this was going and a sloppy cocktail of guilt, fiery fury and rage coursed through him.

tomura gently urging you to continue, you obliged, albeit through choked sobs and hiccups, hands interlaced, his thumb stroking over the back of yours, aiming to give you some sort of solace as you struggled, despite the ire festering within him. breath hitching, he swallowed thickly at the mention of the weapon you were held up toward, eyes frantically flying over your being, hands moving to inspect for any injuries, "i wasn't cut or anything," you explained, "he just h-held it up to me and i was scared so i..." the words stopped at the back of your throat, the confession stinging your throat,"um, i...i stopped fighting" gaze falling beyond the window, looking at tomura only causing an eruption of pain within you, "...im so sorry."

letting out a serrated exhale, "do you remember what he looks like ?" earning a slow nod in response, gaze lifting toward the house as alastair's infamous figure came into view. "are you going to h-hurt him ?" you questioned through sniffled gasps of air, tomura following the object of your glare, eyes landing on the tall man, "he'll be lucky if i don't fucking kill him." he breathed, turning to you, "stay in the car."

tomura's gait was that of a soldier, marching toward the man without a word, a heavy mist of enmity encompassing his being, trailing after him as his boots scraped harshly against the asphalt, echoing amongst the chatty drunken party-goers during his trek. slowly garnering attention from them as he shrugged off his jacket, before he raised a tight fist, slamming it down onto alastair's face with vigor, the man almost kissing the ground as tomura pulled his fist away, ready for another blow.

"what the fuck ?!" alastair slurred, mind spinning, the stench of alcohol coming off him in wafts as the weighty sole of tomura's boot crashed into his nose, before retracting and slamming into the man's ribs. falling to his knees, alastair trapped between them, tomura's world fell silent.

tomura wanted to break the man before him, tear his limbs from his body with his teeth and leave him strung up to be eaten by wild animals, to burn him alive and savour his tormented shrieks. tomura wanted to disintegrate him, dust him by a single touch, into nothing but a pathetic pile of grim ashes, to have him slip away between his fingers, to be forgotten, to drift away in the wind.

tomura's punches were mechanic, automatic, rhythmic as he moved, dealing continuous blows of the same force, and the packed crowd that had formed around him were hushed, gawking, the only sound echoing through the night being that of dull hits and cracking bones.

"....im tomura!"

his unforgiving assault continued, heart pumping liquid ivy, adrenaline coursing through his veins like a drug, eyes glazed over, void of light, face expressionless as your screams slowly permeated his trance.

"you're gonna kill him, tomura!" pleading, eyes bloodshot, slightly hesitating to touch him,"that's enough...please..." reaching for his raised fist, shaky hands enclosing around them, "let's go home..."

the cacophony of overlapping sirens sliced through the air like bullets as the crowd clamoured, scattering like flies, yet your stagnant positions remained. tomura's gaze raking over your tired eyes and puffy face, heart clenching. hands tightly woven together, you rose as a duet, crisp air lacing over his bloodied knuckles, nipping at your tear stained cheeks as you made your way to his car once more, settling into the warmed seats.

tomura was the first to break the otherwise wordless journey home, "he could've killed you." the statement was harsh, piercing, "i wouldn't know what to do if you were to die," focused on the road, tomura's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he let out an uncomfortable laugh, "i mean, i can barely sleep without you, let alone live without you..." trailing off, "...i think i'd be better off joining you.”

the sentiment was not lost on you, you knew he meant it, deeply at that, yet it pained you to no end. his words feeling like an open wound exposed to the elements, heart continuing to bleed for you in the wake of your betrayal.

you'd never experienced such life altering love in all your years, something so dizzying, intoxicating and intense, something so real and raw and beautiful, something you could almost...touch, something you didn't deserve.

tomura was the best thing that had ever happened to you, by far and...he now sat beside you solemn, hands bloodied and bruised, heart torn, trust broken, betrayed and trampled upon by the one he treasured most in this parasitic world.

clothing rustling against the leather seat as you shifted uncomfortably, "why didn't you call me ?" he questioned through a small sigh, tired words laced with defeat, disappointment. "...i wasn't in my right mind," you spoke, voice hoarse, eyes trained on your fingers placed in your lap, fiddling with a loosened thread of your skirt. "i was in a daze and i was frantic and i went to...wash him off of me in the bathroom right after and," speech pace speeding as you explained, "i was so fucking overwhelmed by everything and that's when i got your message and by the time i went downstairs you were already there and...now we're here..." exhaling softly through a shaky breath, "and i'm so sorry..."

the soft blow of the car heating was all you could hear, as tomura's mind spiralled, fingers reaching for his deck, putting the cigarette to his lips, lighting it. "you broke our agreement." it was a statement more than anything, just a voicing of his conflicting thoughts, expressed through a sigh after a long drag, yet you replied, "i know…im sorry”

                              ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

knees buried in the soft carpeted floor, you tipped the rubbing alcohol onto the cotton, gently pushing it up against tomura's knuckles as you finished cleaning him up, barely earning a hiss from the man. eyes searching your face from his position above, observing the wrinkles in your forehead due to your furrowed brows, "what's on your mind, love ?"

stilling your movements, gaze lifting to meet his, white hair falling forward as he looked down at you, almost curtaining the rubies held within his eyes. words clogging, gulping harshly, breaking the stare for a moment before locking it in again, with the help of his hooked finger beneath your chin, a shaky breath escaping your parted lips, "c'mon, what's up ?"

"hurt me...p-please" begging, glassy eyed, voice breaking. tomura's tone remained calm at your pleads, almost as if he were expecting such a request, "why would you want me to do that ?"

eyes straining once more as tears threatened to well, speech quickening, "i...i betrayed you and i broke your trust and i let that guy touch me and i could've done more to stop it and i could've fought harder and i didn't tell you right after and—" vision clouding your eyelashes failed you as tears began to trail down your face again, chest rising and falling faster as you spoke, eyes darting around the place, "i— your pretty hands are scarred now because of me and...and...i deserve it."

nodding firmly at your own words, finally raising your gaze to meet his own, pleading, "please, take your frustrations out on me...it would make you feel better." eyes squinting, "it would make you feel better." he corrected, "it would." you confirmed.

rising from his perch on the sofa, extending a hand out to you, leading you to your joint chambers, tomura's lips met yours in a gentle embrace and as he moved to deepen it, you pulled away, eyes wide "w-what are you doing ?" confusion knitting your brows together.

"i forgive you," he stated firmly, "i think your guilt is punishment enough," tucking your loose hairs behind your ears, shifting your tendrils from your face, his hand rested on your cheek, thumbing it softly, "this...all of it, it wasn't your fault, you had no choice," he spoke, tone assertive yet tender, "you just need to forgive yourself now, yeah ? it's gonna be okay," setting a soft kiss on your lips, resting his forehead to yours "we're okay, we're together again like always, yeah ? just you and me, it'll be okay." the words were whispered, like a secret only to be shared between the two of you, something special to treasure as a pair.

leaning into him, crashing your lips together once more, you couldn't help the tears that fell, hoping to seal the taste of him in your soul, meld into him completely as his hand found the small of your back, pulling you in closer as he breathed you.

pulling away, "is this truly what you want right now?" he questioned, searching your face for any signs of discomfort, coming up empty as you nodded eagerly, whispering, pleading, begging, "make me feel like im yours again, tomura."

hovering over your nude laying form on the cushioned bed, clothes collectively discarded on the hardwood, safe for your undergarments, his lips met your cheek, trailing down your jaw slowly, slowly before meeting your neck. pushing his pillowy lips against your sensitive skin, mellow actions growing eager gradually as he continued, teeth softly grazing your skin as he sucked, making a mark, branding you as his own.

shame shrouded tomura's being, hanging heavy like a thunderous cloud, striking him in his core. his culpability was discernible in his mind, his constant turn-downs of your unofficial invitation gnawing at his insides. his presence all that would've been needed to prevent such a situation from taking place, to prevent such trauma, such pain, yet he withdrew the opportunity, and it haunted him like a vengeful ghost.

soft mewls fell from you as he worked, the nausea you'd associated with the actions earlier that night being reborn anew at the touch of your lover. hands gripping his arm, hips rutting, as he toyed with your most sensitive part through the fabric of your underwear.

finger hooking into the band, hand slipping underneath, finally making contact, a gasp falling from your lips at the act, tomura continued, sharp intakes of breath soon switching to a whines as he did so. drawing circles on your blossoming core, pulling away, he admired the flowery imprints he’d created on your neck as they deepened in shade.

lips meeting yours once more, finally slipping a digit into your warmth, taking the opportunity of your opened mouth to slip his tongue in as you moaned, slowly pumping you before doubling the dosage. lacing your hands into his hair, brows furrowing as tomura swallowed your tunes, meeting you with his own, kiss growing desperate as your hand found his clothed cock, slipping beneath the fabric, intending to alleviate the tension as you stroked, earning shaky groans from the man.

parting to hurriedly free yourselves from the threaded pieces of fabric, you met again, lips interlocked, his thumb pressed to the length of his cock, leisurely dragging it between your folds, as he rutted against you.

the strain was native as tomura slowly buried the head of his cock into your core, yet you couldn't help the need to paw at his shoulders, face contorting at the width and he gripped your wrist, "you can take it, princess," whispering, lips grazing yours as he spoke, inching deeper, soon bottoming out, "there we go."

stilling as you adjusted, tomura's mind itched for friction yet he remained stagnant as your lips crashed with fervour, treasuring the complete feeling of being slotted together once more, like missing pieces of a jigsaw, your core carved, his cock sculpted to couple.

his motions were slow at first, tender, pulling out at a grating pace before filling you once more, your hips moving to meet his, yet they harshened as he continued, pelvis soon snapping into yours, coarse strokes pummelling against that gentle pocket of nerves deep within you, leaving you in a choked daze. bodies rocking in tune with the bed springs, tomura's head buried in the crook of your neck, groans slipping into your ears, aiding the tightening knot nestling in your core as his thumb drew circles between your folds.

raising his head to meet your gaze, flushed cheeked and glossy lipped, heavy lidded eyes harbouring a fountain of lust, and you were enraptured by the view, his cologne almost permeating off him at the short proximity, intoxicatingly so.

mind dizzying as he observed your features, wanting to savour the expressions he pulled from you, clenching around him unwillingly at the sight, eyes squeezing shut in shame as your cheeks rosed, a smirk dawning his face in return, "you're taking me so well, baby." his voice raspy, a whine slipping from your lips, "such a good girl for me, aren't you ?" nodding eagerly at the question, "anything for you, master." through whimpers, and tomura smiled at the words, knowing you met it, all too deeply.

panting softly, the knot in your stomach tightening harshly as you squeezed around tomura once more, "can i—" cut off by a moan, hands fisting the fabric of the sheets, "cum on my cock, princess." back arching off the bed at the vulgar words with a mewl, tomura slipped his hand beneath, holding you, pumping you through your bliss, relishing in the way your muscles tensed, the way your eyes fell shut and the lazy open mouthed smile that rested on your lips.

"t-thank you," you pushed through a whine as the sensitivity set in, tomura's actions persisting as he chased his own high, pace becoming languid and jagged as it neared. hand flying to grip his wrist as he began to pull out, "w-wait..." pleading, "c-can you uh...inside..." cheeks burning as you spoke, voice timid, quiet.

tomura's brow quirking at the request, his silence only making you feel the need to explain further, "t-the love bites aren't enough..." you pushed, "i...i want to feel you from the inside..." eyes searching his face as you trailed off, a smile forming on his lips as he obliged, settling back in with the gentle words, "anything for you, my love." you smiled shyly in turn, knowing he meant it, all too deeply.

gummy walls tightening around the thick of his shaft, tomura's brows knitting together as the coil nestling at the pit of his stomach slowly came undone, hips staggering, painting your warmth with his pearly seed, inscribing the story of your shared love on your walls like a parietal painting.

                              ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

the rushing water pooled at your feet, head tipped back as tomura's sudsy digits massaged your scalp gently, eyes falling shut as he moved the shower head over the length of your hair, keeping the soap from trailing down your face before raking conditioner through your locks with tender care, repeating.

your fingers moved through snowy locks as tomura reached for the shampoo bottle, taking a whiff, "it smells so…sweet," he commented, "one of the reasons i like it so much," you shrugged, "is it any good ?" he questioned, "you'll see for yourself when we're done," humming, he sniffed it once more, "i like it" slight confusion lacing your brows, "how so ? you haven't even seen the results yet," earning a shrug, "it smells like you," the words forming a sweet ball of golden light to glow within your chest, a smile dawning your face, "besides, your hair is always super soft anyway."

dried and clothed, tomura fingers combed through his hair in the reflection, "woah…" he spoke, "see ? this is why i keep telling you to quit buying the cheap stuff," gently poking a finger into his arm with a smile, he shrugged, "eh, it gets the job done but this...this is some fancy shit." laughing at his choice of wording, "yeah, sure it is, tomura." sarcasm laced within the words, earning a playful squinted glare in the reflection from the other. 

"do you wanna do a face mask with me ?" holding up a small pot in one hand and a sealed packet in the other as tomura splashed water on his soapy features, patting his clean face dry as you continued, "a clay mask is drying and would probably irritate the areas around your lips and eyes but i think a sheet mask should be okay."

"and if it does irritate my skin ?" you squint, pointing as you talk, "it’s moisturising, so i have high hopes that it won't..." smiling as you trailed off, he shrugged, "sure then, go ahead."

perched at the edge of the bathtub, you took place between his knees, his hands placed on the backs of your thighs as you laid the serum doused sheet on his features, tugging it into place. entranced by your focus, tomura's heart swelling as his eyes raked over the soft lines of your face, the wet tendrils sticking to your forehead, the gentle curl of your pretty lashes and the plump lips he so dearly wanted to kiss again, "there we go." you piped, breaking tomura's daze, his eyes shifting to the mirror, "i look terrifying," he laughed, "you don't," you retort, "and don't laugh, you'll shift the placement of the mask," shrugging, arms held in surrender "whatever you say."

he observed intently as you swiped the clay on your face, "now we both look terrifying," you laughed, earning a tut, "no, you, you look cute." giggling at the words, "well, you think i look cute in anything." shrugging, "my point exactly."

tomura's chest warmed as you gently pressed the serum into his skin, the dried mask discarded on the counter not too long ago, fingers setting soft pats against the scarred flesh, careful not to agitate the wounds, "you haven't been scratching as much recently," you spoke, gaze dipping to his neck, reaching for the moisturiser you'd put on moments prior, gently massaging it into his skin, "the urge comes in waves sometimes," he shrugged, "still, im proud of you," a gentle smile gracing your lips as you uttered the words, tomura mirroring it, "all done!" you beamed, tomura pulling you down, setting a soft kiss to your lips, "now you're done." he corrected.

you soon found your tired bodies interlinked within fresh silk sheets, your head on tomura's chest as his fingers smoothed over your hair, the nostalgic cartoon playing in the background on the tv becoming white noise as your heavy lids fluttered shut, drifting into a hearty slumber within the safe confines of the arms of your lover.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hiii!! is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons with Vil, Idia, Malleus and Lilia where a female protagonist feels self-conscious about having stretch marks and/or cellulite, thanks (Sorry if it's not spelled well, English is not my native language)

COMMENTS: So... even though I myself am a woman, I genuinely never saw stretch marks or cellulite as something bad or ugly, and I still don't. So maybe making the characters share the same vision as me would be accurate? The only exception to complete indifference is Vil, but not in the way you might be thinking.

Btw, I didn't see any point in writing this in a context other than an already advanced relationship given the topic. Fortunately, the 4 characters are 18 years or older so it doesn't end up being... you know, too weird.

I explain at the end why I couldn't write anything for Malleus or Lilia. But despite that, I hope you and all like what I managed to write. ❤️

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud

TAGS: Fluff; Fem!Reader; Comfort; In a Relationship; Suggestive(?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 580 words per character

CONTEXT: I don't think it would make sense for two people to have this kind of intimate conversation outside of a romantic or even sexual relationship. So in that situation, he and you would be in a relationship.

This was an insecurity of yours from the beginning. After all, your boyfriend was none other than Vil Schoenheit. It would be worrying enough if he were a normal model, but he's not only a super model but one of the biggest in all of Twisted Wonderland.

He had already noticed that since you started dating you seemed more worried and less confident about your appearance and that was when he said to you:

“I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. If I wanted to date a model I could do it, but my standards in romantic relationships are others. Different from some of my colleagues in this field. I will always help you to further improve your image if you wish and feel comfortable with it. Please don't see this as me wanting you to change your appearance, but as an attempt to make you as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.” He pauses for a second. “However, for some reason, there's something that bothers me about the possibility of making you start living the same lifestyle as me.”

But he would only get the answer to why that bothered him later.

“The truth is: you are my escape. I don't feel the pressure to be perfect with you because... you know I'm not and yet you look at me with more admiration than anyone else. You are my escape from the superficial and futile parts of my professional life. When you live in these types of environments, you start to lose track of what really matters and what really does you good. Thinking about you being swallowed up by this... and losing your genuine smile... because of me... I can't allow it! Please know that no opinion about your appearance matters other than your own. And it wasn't just that that made me fall in love.”

This may have made you feel more comfortable and confident about your appearance again, but as the relationship became more serious and you became more intimate, eventually your problem with stretch marks and cellulite began to affect your mood again.

At home, Vil had massage sessions from time to time not only to help him relax but also for other healthy effects it had on his body. He thought that now that he was dating you, maybe it would be interesting for him to buy massage products and for you to start having these sessions with each other.

“You deserve a massage probably even more than I do.” He tells you, referring to the hardships you go through with Grim and the others.

And that's when he realizes from your hesitation that something about your appearance has bothered you again. He asks you to tell him and that you can trust him. After all, if you couldn't, what kind of boyfriend would he be? And you end up talking about your stretch marks and cellulite.

“I see.” He says understandingly. “I've never had them myself, but I've met many women in the beauty industry who talk about it to each other. Not to mention the advertisements for products for it. Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating and you felt less confident about your appearance? I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. Furthermore, from what I understand, these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs.” He looks at you seductively. “You don't really think I would have any kind of criticism if you gave me the honor of seeing these parts of your body, do you? Why don't you let me give you that massage? I'll show you what I truly find beautiful about you.”

At first you didn't even think about it. It was only when the relationship started to get more serious and you started to sleep together from time to time that you started to worry.

Especially when Idia started having less of a problem walking around you shirtless. And giving hints about how he would like to see you wearing his shirts, without pants.

One day he says he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but instead of asking why you hide your body so much, he asks if you still don't consider him worthy of seeing his girlfriend comfortably sexy.

“You never hid the fact that you like to see me shirtless.” He says while playing some game on the computer. “I also want to see you like that. Not necessarily shirtless, that's another level, but like, you know I don't like to embody the confident handsome guy who likes to walk around with little clothing on." His hair starts to turn hot pink.” But... I like how you look at me when I do. And what you say. Which I never understood ‘cause I don't even have good physics. But you do! You would be that character that every player simps for.” He sinks into his chair. “But I understand, getting that kind of look from me is disgusting...”

You may have your insecurities, but he has them too. And finally you feel the need and the comfort enough to reveal to him that that isn’t the problem, that you would also like him to find you hot as you find him and that the problem is your marks.

“What marks? Like scars? Don't tell me you have cool battle scars, like doesn't that make a person even sexier?”

You say you're not talking about scars, but stretch marks and cellulite.

“... Yah... sorry, I think I rolled a natural 1 in intelligence for this. What was that again?”

You say they are marks, irregularities and dimples in the skin and that he can search them on the internet. He does that.

“It says that these are natural things that don't do any harm. But they can impact self-image.” He researches a little more. “Wait! Are you trying to tell me that you find these strips and irregularities ugly enough to the point that you have to hide them? THIS?” He smiles mockingly “Oh no! How horrible! Your skin looks like... skin! What a tragedy!”

He will be very happy if you can laugh with him.

“As if I would even notice that. It says here that these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs. Do you really think that if I saw these parts of your body it would be little stripes and dimples that would catch my attention?” The pink in his hair becomes more intense. “I may be a shut-in but don't lump me in with those worms who define their standards based on adult videos. I can assure you that's not what you'll have to worry about if you take your clothes off in front of me.”

He finally looks at you with a seductive look and smiles confidently when he sees that you are flustered.

I really really really tried to imagine scenarios with Malleus or Lilia, but I couldn't think of anything very meaningful.

Malleus wouldn't understand the problem even if you tried to explain it to him because... it doesn't make sense to him. They're just marks. He also has marks, like, on his forehead. Is there something wrong with this?

And Lilia would just laugh for you thinking this is a problem and just tell you to forget about it.

They wouldn't understand, because it wouldn't make any difference to them at all. And that's it.

With Vil and Idia I was able to think of something because they are, like, from this generation, and because one is in the beauty industry and the other is, probably, chronically online, they can see where your insecurity comes from. But for someone like Malleus or Lilia, this type of insecurity has no basis whatsoever. I really don't know what to write with them.

Sorry. 🥺

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[maidragoste]

Loving your ex-husband Cregan fics! I’m so curious to know what even happened between them and why they’re no longer together. Especially given what we’ve just found out that this time last year they were still very much happy and together so it seemed to have been quite a quick switch

Hi, Anon! I am very happy that you enjoy Ex Husband!Cregan so much 🥰🥰💖💖

Let me tell you that I love your ask because it allows me to explain things about lore that in the fics I can't find a way to add that is organic.

First Cregan and his wife got married when they were young when they were finishing their last year of university in King's Landing so as soon as they finished they went to Winterfell because Cregan finds out that his uncle is mismanaging the family business so he wants to take back the reins of the company (this would be my modern version of what happens in the book with Cregan and his uncle lol). He eventually succeeds, but it's all very recent, and he's afraid that as soon as he leaves the North, his uncle and cousins ​​will make a move, so Cregan and his wife stay there.

The problem is that even though Reader tried, she doesn't feel the North is her home. She feels alone, doesn't feel like she has any real friends there, and has a hard time getting used to the cultural differences. She misses the South, her family and friends, and as Rickon grows older, it begins to weigh on her more. She doesn't want the people she considers family to be just strangers who come to visit him on his birthday. She's also tired of feeling like she's missing out on important things in her family and friends' lives, so she wants to return to the South. But Cregan doesn't want to move, so she ultimately files for divorce 😞

They don't get divorced because they don't love each other, but because she wants something different and he realizes she's unhappy 😭😭

Thanks for writing to me, Anon, and I hope you're okay 💖💖

P.S. If you ever write to me again, you can choose an emoji so I can identify you. <3

[random-twst-things]

The Sweet Painter of Twisted things (Pt. 1)

Hi annon! Love the concept. It's no bother at all, I do love to write after all!! Ty for the request and I apologize for taking so long 😭✨🍬 (I hope you like it!)

Characters involved: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt.1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus pt.2)

Pairings: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt 1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Female reader pt.2) (Separate)

Warnings: Mentions of eerie/gory paintings

Word count: 1,630

Notes: you know what? I'm just gonna post it now and finish the rest in a different post, I don't want y'all to be kept waiting any longer 😭✨🍬

More notes: I'll be posting Pt.2 whenever I have time! I will say though, I have no idea how to write for some of the characters in Pt.2 😀✨🍬

When you said you painted and wished to show him your art, Riddle had to admit he was a tad bit (a lot) excited to see

So, when you showed him your art he was absolutely bewildered.

You, the sweetest person he has ever had the chance in meeting, paints things that could cause nightmares.

Obviously, he isn't going to say that aloud, he has manners, but dear seven, how unexpected it was for him.

He's seen art before. He's been to museums by his mother to teach him strictly of the arts and the "rules" she put in place for them to determine how well a painting is.

It's been years since his mother taught him such things, and she only did it so often, and after time, those rules of art set by his mother have dwindled.

He's been able to go to museums before with Trey as a way to calm down when things are too much. Luckily, Trey was able to explain to Riddle how there are many forms of art and how it art doesn't necessarily have rules itself.

So it's safe to say he's a bit more well-versed in paintings now, even though he still finds it a bit difficult when there's no rules to follow (a habit hard to get rid of)

Now, his reaction all depends on what painting and image your showing him

He will ask you questions about why you would paint such uncanny things such as:

Why did you paint this? What caused you to begin painting such eerie things? What Inspiration were you given to paint this particular piece?

And many more questions about technique and practical things.

He can't say that he's a fan of these types of paintings, but he can say that he thinks you're very talented to be able to make such paintings

He'll praise how well done or real your painting(s) looks.

He's going to be a bit concerned about you, though, and he shows that by (trying to) subtly asking if you're okay

"What gave you the inspiration to draw this?" Riddle asks, the worry in his tone being quite evident even through his attempts in hiding it. "Have you witnessed such things for inspiration?" He asks again, his voice laced with even more worry than before.

"What? No!" You stand up from your seat to get closer to Riddle. "It's not like that," you laugh lightly, shaking your hands in the air. "I just happened to see a rotting piece of meat in the cafeteria kitchen one time while passing by."

Riddle breathes a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. Bro was stressing and worrying.

I say this in the nicest way possible to us all, but this man does not care but-!

Leona doesn't care in a sense like "I wanna show you something!" "Alright hurry it up and show me".

Maybe he's a bit smug that you're showing him something you like to do.

Anyways, when you said you wanted to show him your painting(s) he was being smug.

He didn't have any set expectations to what type of things you painted or what your style was.

Him seeing the eerie or gory painting didn't surprise him as much as Riddle either.

He doesn't have much to say, but this guy is still smug and is definitely showing it now.

Why? The guys got weird motives and definitions of respect and pride so we'll never know.

His does wonder how you acquired such Inspiration to paint like this.

He's not too curious about it to the point where he'll try to find out or becomes worried.

Again, he is smug and prideful but it's for you

He feels prideful FOR you. He's smug about you being able to paint such gory or eerie things FOR you.

(Bros so smitten with you)

You set your canvas/notebook down carefully against one of the plants nearby, careful not to get it dirty or damaged.

Leona lays there, back towards you, unbothered under the shade of a plant, but not for long as you bring your finger near his cheek and begin to poke.

Poke.

Poke.

PokePokePokePokePokePokePoke.

Leona swats your hand away, but not harshly. His tail swings left to right faster then he was asleep, another sign he's awake.

He looks at you, irked that you disturbed his so-called much needed nap. He glares at you, but his eyes lack the malice in them to even consider it threatening. You look at him innocently, hands behind your back as to show it wasn't you. (He knows better, only you would ever try to wake him up like that)

He sighs deeply. "What is it herbivore?" He asks as he shifts slightly to get into a more comfortable position to get a better view of you. You turn your body slightly to grab the canvas you set down behind you, careful not to accidentally show Leona just yet. "I wanna show you something," you beam, you're more excited then you thought you'd be showing him, for the first time, your most recent painting.

Leona's tail begins to swish even faster, thumping against the leaves of the plants nearby. His tail gives away that his curiosity has been piqued. Yet his face remains unchanged, besides the slight quirk of his eyebrow in questioning.

You turn the canvas around for Leona to see.

And there it is

The smirk

The smug

The eyes of pride *sound effects*

His smirk seems to widen even more as he looks at the painting and then back at you. "Looks nice herbivore, ya got anymore?"

You excitedly nod your head, "yeah, I do. Wanna see them?", you ask, gripping your painting, even more excited then before to show him.

Leona nods his head languidly while slowly closing his eyes, "sure, but after I finish this nap", he brings his arms down and begins to get comfortable. He softly pats his stomach, "Come, sleep".

Azul knows you paint, he knows it's been a hobby of yours for a while now.

How does he know? Doesn't matter. Does he know what exactly the contents of your paintings are? No

His curiosity has been eating away at him. He was so very curious on what his darling was capable of

So, when you first told him that you wished to show him your paintings, he was elated. His curiosity will finally be quelled.

He may or may not have a set expectations of what you paint. Something sweet, something calm or maybe something like he'd find at a museum of old paintings.

What he saw was the complete opposite to say the least.

He's not disappointed, no, he's just shocked.

He's amazed. He's taken aback. He's a lot of emotions.

.....would you be willing to, perhaps, sell these paintings? Many people out there would be willing to buy, and the profits would be even and-

Old habits die hard, I suppose 🤷🏽‍♀️

You led Azul by the hand to your room/drawing room, much slower than he would like as he wished to see your paintings as soon as possible.

"Azul, i can feel you twitching in anticipation just by holding your hand," you laughed lightly. He sighed, bringing his free hand to his temple to calm his nerves. "I'm sorry, dear, but it feels as if you're walking slower just to build up anticipation," "Maaaybeee~". Azul chuckles at your antics.

Finally, after Azuls definition of agonizing seconds. He visibly relaxed as he saw the covered canvas. "My, you really know how to keep me on my toes", ",I most certainly do". You left go of his hand and stand next to the covered canvas. "Ready?", you put your hands on the sheet. Azul held his breath and nodded.

You clench the cover and quickly pull it off. You turn to face Azul to gouge his reaction. That reaction was him frozen in place, still holding his breath (you'd begun to think how he still hasn't passed out) "Azul?" You try to call out to him.

He slowly walks up to your painting, still holding his breath. He reaches out and touches the edges of the canvas delicately, scared he we're to break it if he put too much pressure. You watch his careful movements. You watch as his eyes rake over your painting as if he could take the painting and store it into his memory box. "Azul?" You try calling out again, only this time he responds.

He let's out a shaky breath, "it looks -" he turns his head to fade you. "It looks magnificent, dear," his words were barely above a whisper. You stand there absolutely frozen and shocked. Nobody has ever quite thought this kind of painting would be 'magnificent' before.

"Really?" He turns his head back at the painting."Yes, the detail is vert intricate, and it feels so eerie. It's as if you were truly there." You stare at him bewildered, mouth slightly agape.

He puts his hand on his chin in a thinking position. The gears turn in his head. He turns to face you so quickly that you'd think he'd have snapped his neck on accident. "Have you ever considered selling these?" He asks, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Sell them?... No, I never really thought of that." You bring your fingers to your chin, now thinking as well. "Well, I'll say many would be lining up the door to buy these wonderful paintings!""Really?"

"Yes! With such talent and my business skills, we could -" and there goes the business man into his spiral of possibilities.

[bbieangel]

Sunday Mornings — Joel Miller x F!Reader (No outbreak AU)

Summary: He was usually the one in charge. But sometimes he would test your limits to the point where you needed to teach him a lesson.

A/N: Hello hello! I've been really inspired if you can tell lol. Something possessed me to write this and it's currently 4 am, so I hope you enjoy it. I would love some feedback on my writings and remember that my requests are open! I'll leave you to it. (and yes, the song "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5 inspired the title)

Warnings and tags: Smut, lots of it. This is basically porn without a plot. Edging, breeding kink if you squint, f!dom and sub!joel. but then joel!dom and sub!reader. oral m receiving. unprotected p in v (it's fiction, please don't do this in reality), dirty talk, orgasm denial, reader has a vagina and breasts, joel is a tease, slightly rough sex, a little bit of pain being inflicted, after care (lots of it <3)

Word count: 14.4k (don't ask me how)

divider by @/ peony chance on pinterest!

It had all started Saturday morning while you prepared breakfast. Sloppy kisses on your neck, biting at your collarbone. His hands would knead your ass and breasts. He would whisper into your ear everything he wanted to do to you when he came from work and you wanted to hold him to that promise.

But of course, work wasn't easy and he came back wrecked. Only wanted to sleep and you weren't one to demand him anything when you knew his work left him feeling exhausted some days. But it frustrated you every time it happened, he would rile you up and leave for work, leaving you to satisfy yourself however you could.

That Sunday you decided to get up and take a shower. Sundays meant slow mornings and lazy afternoons either way.

You got out of the shower, already having changed into your night gown that looked more like a dress inside of the bathroom, and you felt your boyfriend's intense gaze linger on every curve of your body. From your toes to the last hair on your head, he gawked at the sight of it all. The way the nightgown hung over the swell of your breasts, how it was just barely covering your ass with a small piece of lace. Your skin was shining from that new body lotion you had tried out, the smell being intoxicating to his nostrils. He wanted to lick it off of you. It almost felt like a personal attack, as if you were doing it on purpose.

And the thing was.. you actually were doing it to provoke him. You had gotten tired of him teasing you all day only for you to end up having to use your hands to get some relief while he walked out of the front door with that shit-eating grin on his face.

A taste of his own medicine wouldn't hurt. And, either way, he always ended up submitting to you completely. Or so you thought.

He smirked when you got on top of him, straddling his lap without saying anything. When his hands began to make their way like snakes moving under your gown, you slapped his hand away.

He yelped, looking at you with a frown.

"Ow! What was that for?"

He asked, holding his hand like a puppy who walked with his wounded paw, hanging. You grinned at the sight, the way he played the victim perfectly made you chuckle every time.

"You're not in control tonight."

You explained, and the way your eyes darkened and your voice dropped two octaves seemed to make him realize you weren't joking. That you were serious about it all, and that both excited and scared him. Because he knew too well how dominant you could be when given the opportunity.

"So I can't touch you? Anywhere?"

He asked, his voice already giving away how he would submit at the snap of your fingers.

"No. Not until I say so. Understood?"

You said with the same tone as before. One of your hands crawled up his chest until you found one of the pebbles on his chest and rubbed it with your thumb.

He let out a choked up moan, taken by surprise. He bit down on his lower lip and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. At the lack of response, you pinched it.

He whimpered and gasped, trying to sound more hurt than he really was just because you couldn't find out that he liked a bit of pain.

"Answer me, Joel."

"Yes! Yes, I understand."

He said, his voice hoarse with desire and a hint of submission.

"Yes what?"

You asked, taking advantage of his current state. He gulped before answering, his cheeks flushed a pretty rosey pink that reminded you of a liquid blush he gifted you just a couple of weeks ago.

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

He said. Oh, how well trained you had him. Almost like a dog.

Your hands traveled up and down his chest, your nails barely even touching him. The feeling was so feathery, so teasing that he couldn't help but buckle his hips underneath you just to get a bit of relief. You pinched his nipple again.

"No, no. You either take what I give you or you don't have anything."

You said, waiting for him to answer. He was quicker to react this time.

"Sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."

He said, his eyelids dropped while his chest rose and fell heavily, trying to get a grip on himself. It was almost too easy to get him to submit, but again, it was Joel Miller. The most stubborn person you knew.

So, you should've expected his next move as you leaned down, your lips hovering over one of his nipples. Your breath tickled his skin in a way that felt torturous and delicious at the same time. But you couldn't take your time, no, he wouldn't let you. He immediately pressed your head down against him, making your lips wrap around his nipple.

He was stronger than you so getting his arm out of the way wasn't a battle you were going to win. But you could use other strategies to finally put him in his place, such as biting down his nipple. He jumped, letting go of your head. The bite hadn't been that strong either way.

Your tongue lapped against the reddened and hard button just one, and then you pulled away.

"You know what? I'm tired of you being a goddamn brat. You're going to learn how to be in your place."

You spoke through clenched teeth as you pulled down his boxers, making him gasp. His cock laid against his soft stomach, all hard and already glistening with a bead of precum. The tip was a shade of red you would only see when he was really desperate, and this time wasn't any different.

You were going to give him what he wanted, or at least you made him believe that's what you were going to do. You spat down on your palm and wrapped your long fingers around his thick length, pumping him at a steady rhythm.

His back arched and your name fell out of his plush, velvety lips. The sound went straight to your core, making you drip with desire and clench around a ghostly feeling of the countless times he had fucked you that week.

He, on the other hand, was too far gone to notice that. His eyes were closed as he groaned and gripped the sheets to try and ground himself.

"Eyes on me, pretty boy."

You commanded and he complied, looking at you with these chocolate dripping irises of his. The ones that had made you fall in love with him in the first place, and ones that could make you melt into a puddle of nothingness.

You nodded softly at him.

"I know, baby. It feels so good, doesn't it?"

You cooed, the sound of your tender voice contrasting your harsh actions as your pace picked up drastically. With that, you earned a louder moan from Joel, one that indicated you had found the perfect pace. One of his hands went to touch your cheek but he seemed to remind himself of your previous boundaries, so he held back.

"Good boy, Joel. I knew you could be good for me, baby."

You spoke into his ear and all of the hairs in his body stood up, sending a delicious pang of warmth to his lower stomach. One that stirred his closeness.

Suddenly, you slowed down, which pulled him out of his almost drunken state. His eyes snapped open at you with a look of betrayal, almost.

"Darlin' why are you stoppin'?"

He questioned you, his legs trembling with need for release.

"I don't know."

You shrugged, leaving him to overthink the reasons as you leaned down. You took him into your mouth, not even giving him time to adjust to the warmth and dampness of your oral cavity before you moved down, down, down..

Until your lips touched the base of his cock. He cried out your name and his grip on the sheets only grew stronger. You, on the other hand, inhaled deeply through your nose, combating against your gag reflex.

"Sweetheart, if you don't move I'm— mmph— Imma c-come.."

You let him go with a pop. He let out a whine, something you had never heard before. Joel Miller was, indeed, a whiner after all.

He grunted with frustration, finally picking up on what you were doing. Denying him the right to have his orgasm.

After a few seconds you started pumping him with your hand again, making his face twitch with pleasure. His skin seemed golden under the cast of the sun that slipped through your curtains. Slow mornings with lazy sex were a one thing, but slow mornings where you could edge Joel Miller? That hadn't happened before, and you were enjoying every second of it.

As you grabbed one of his balls and started massaging it, he tried to close his legs with a moan. His abdomen contracted in a way that told you he was about to be close again.

"Ah, ah. Keep them spread for me, baby boy."

You spoke lowly and he complied with a whine, looking at you with glassy eyes.

"Oh.. What's wrong? You don't like being edged?"

You said with a mocking pout. He whined again at that, knowing he was in a place you had been countless of times. This time he would get to feel how frustrating it was to get your orgasm being taken away at the last moment, over and over again.

He nodded, his eyebrows scrunched up in the most beautiful way.

"N-No, ma'am, I don't like it. Just.. let me come."

He spoke, his voice was ragged with desire and you were afraid he would draw blood from his bottom lip if he kept chewing on it like that.

"Is that the proper way to ask me? Try again."

You spoke, letting go of his length once again. The absence of your skin around him left him feeling the way his heard was pounding on his ears. Not for too long, though, because you were back at taking him until his tip was touching the spongy skin on the back of your throat.

He let out a ragged scream, then gasped for air. He hit the mattress like a wrestling player did when they were being grabbed with too much force.

"I'm gonna— darlin'— I'm—"

He said, and once again to no one's surprise, you pulled him out of your mouth. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of his length all covered in your saliva and precum just pouring out of his red, angry tip.

"Please, please ma'am. Please let me come, I promise I won't tease you again."

He panted, looking at you with glassy eyes. His expression was a sight to behold: his lips were slightly swollen and parted, his chest rose and fell rapidly at the way he tried to catch his breath, his cheeks tinted almost red.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and his hair was disheveled. All spread out for you, Joel Miller was begging for you. And it made you feel proud, so much that for a moment you forgot the power he actually had over you.

At your lack of response and the way you were almost gawking at his cock, he flipped you onto your back and caged you under him. You gasped in surprise but he was quicker, holding your wrists above your head.

"I'm tired, darlin'. I'll make sure I get my fill until the neighbors are complaining 'bout your damn screams."

He spoke, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

He almost ripped your panties apart by how hard he pulled them. He would never hurt you, never touch a hair on your body. But when it came to being rough he almost transformed into a different person.

You immediately felt two of his thick, long fingers stretch you out. He pumped them easily, given how wet you already were.

"Yeah, she's so wet for me. Already makin' a mess of the new sheets, isn't she?"

He spoke and you could only nod as he curled your fingers, touching that spot he knew by memory now. You arched your back.

"Shh, I know she feels good. M'gonna fill 'er up over and over."

He whispered in that velvety, smooth voice he managed to pull out in moments like this. His southern drawl was ten times sexier during sex.

He pulled his fingers out, all slick and shiny with your juices. Your hole clenched around nothing, making you feel empty.

He brought his fingers up to your lips, you already knew what to do. You parted your lips open and he pushed them inside, the tangy flavor making you hum in pleasure. If Joel Miller knew one thing you would never admit, was that you loved to taste yourself.

After you licked his fingers clean, he pulled them out and sucked on them. He gripped your hips and aligned himself with you, making you squirm when the tip threatened to enter.

"So eager for me, baby. Look at 'er, clenching 'round nothing. M'gonna give her something to clench around."

He said, hovering over your body until your lips were almost touching. With one swift movement, he drowned himself inside of you, making you spill onto the sheets.

He groaned and you let out a cry, at which he hushed you.

"Shh, I know. I know it hurts but you brought this upon yourself, darlin.'"

He spoke as he started moving without giving you even a second to adjust. Your walls clenched him in ways that made him almost delirious.

He moaned and panted into your ear, adding to the whole overwhelming experience.

"She's so tight, honey. Gonna milk me dry, isn't she?"

She spoke and you could only babble incoherent sentences, too far gone in the mixture of fading pain being quickly replaced by pure pleasure.

"Mmph—Joel.."

His name rolled off your tongue so sweetly, so desperately that it almost broke his dominance. But again, you had played with him for a long time, making him look pathetic.

And he would return the favor.

As he picked up the pace, your hand tried to go to your sex so you could rub your clit in search of that release you desperately needed. But he pulled your hand away, holding it above your head again.

"This ain't 'bout you, sweetheart. I will come first, then we'll see what I do with ya."

He spoke as he started thrusting you harder, the room being filled by the pat, pat, pat of his hips snapping against your skin, and his balls hitting the swell of your ass.

You closed your fists around the air because, if your hands were free, you would be carving your name on his back.

As his body started trembling you knew he was close, also by the way his cock twitched inside of you.

One, two, three thrusts and he gripped your hips so hard you were sure you would walk around with bruises for the next few days. The warm liquid of his seed spilled inside of you and, by consequence, onto the poor sheets that were almost transparent by now. He groaned and panted onto the crook of your neck.

After catching his breath he pulled out, collecting the remaining of his semen dripping from your hole and pushing it inside once again.

"Gotta keep it inside, darlin'. And ya better do because if not, m'gonna fill you up again."

He said and you whimpered. You could feel your little bundle of nerves pulsating with need, and he simply left you unattended.

As he went to the bathroom you held your legs up against your chest, clenching tight so nothing would spill out. He came back with a rag to clean up himself and you, but when he raised an eyebrow at your direction you knew you were fucked. Quite literally.

It was impossible to keep it inside, what did he think? That it wouldn't drip?

Without speaking, he brought you over to the edge of the bed and placed a pillow under your pelvis to hold you up. Then, he went and positioned himself between your legs again.

"This is what happens when you try to be dominant. What did you learn today, darlin'?"

He asked as he buried himself inside of you once again, making you cry out in pleasure. Your pussy was just exhausted from keeping up with him, and so were you. You just wanted him to let you come on his dick, or without it, you couldn't care less anymore.

"T-That I shouldn't –fuck, Joel – I shouldn't try to be dominant."

You spoke as hot tears streamed down your face, your legs trembling as he put one over his shoulder. You screamed in pleasure when the new position angled him better to touch that part of your cervix that made you see stars.

"That's a girl.. If you keep up, Imma let you come. Is that what you want? You wanna come?"

He asked, and you knew it was better to answer rather quickly.

"Yes! Yes, please. Please let me come."

You responded desperately, grasping his arms and digging your nails on his flesh. Take it as a way to return the bruises on your hips.

He kept on hitting that same spot inside of you, making you squirm and call out his name like a prayer. He wouldn't give you a break, wouldn't let you catch your breath.

Suddenly, he licked his thumb and pressed it against your clit, making you grip the sheets.

"Please, p-please, Joel. Please let me."

You mumbled and he smirked at the sight of you. Your hair was sticking to your face after sweating so much, and your lower lip was swollen from biting down on it. Soft, glistening tears made their way down your cheeks.

"'s okay, princess. Imma take care of you. Just gonna fill you up once more."

He spoke in a slightly breathless tone. His body was covered in sweat as well and his face scrunched up every time he would push his cock into your cunt once again. He picked up his pace and began rubbing your clit without stopping.

You wanted to come? Fine. But he wouldn't be gentle about it.

Your moans began coming out more shortly and fast paced, leaving almost no space between one and the next.

"Come f'me, sweetheart. Let me hear you while I fill you up again."

He spoke against your ear, holding your waist now. His hands trembled as he spoke, he was so close.

You were drenched at this point, mixed juices dripping to the floor as you felt him twitch once again inside of you. A rush of white painted your walls and that was the deal breaker for you.

You screamed as you came, tears coming out harder as you gripped his arm like a lifeline. You weren't sure when it would ever stop, the endless waves of pleasure hitting you over and over again.

The next thing happened all while you tried to recover. Joel pulled out with a grunt and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then reached for the wet rag and very carefully cleaned you up.

He scooped you out of bed and had you sit down on the toilet, all while he changed the sheets into new ones.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart. I jus' need to change those sheets, okay?"

He said before kissing your cheek lovingly. When he came back he didn't even let you walk back, oh no, he couldn't let you lift a finger. He scooped you back up and laid you in bed, tucking you in.

You felt as if your limbs had turned into jelly and your mind was still too focused in coming down from everything that had happened. So, he wasn't surprised when you simply closed your eyes and let yourself be pulled into his chest, cradling you with his arms.

Before that, though, he helped you sit up just for a moment so you could chug on a glass of cold water he had brought for you. That helped make you feel a little bit more composed.

He spoke loving words to you, telling you how amazing you were and how much he loved you. Sunday mornings were almost ritually like that with Joel: wake up, have sex, and go back to sleep in the arms of one another.

His fingers gently threaded your hair when slumber called you and you answered, falling asleep on his chest. His movements became lazier and slower until they came to a stop when he also fell asleep, all while keeping an arm over your waist.

Because, no matter how rough he was during your most intimate moments, he would always protect and care for you. Even in his sleep.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

Hi! It's me again ;)

Now I have two, maybe obvious, thoughts...

1. How will Hua Cheng and Xie Lian react if the reader (assuming that the reader is a demon... Or demon and a god at the same time, for example) presents them with a paired jewelry with his ashes inside, as Hua Cheng did for Xie Lian, and reader not gonna say that the ashes are in there... Reader is just like "yes it's yours now" (personally, i see it as earrings... One is more modest for Xie Lian, and the other is brighter for Hua Cheng)

and 2. About the statues... Did Hua Cheng make statues for the reader as he did for Xie Lian? Or would he have expressed his love for him in some other way? 🤔

if you like ideas if you like the ideas, choose any of them and it doesn't matter it would be as headcannons or you write it as a story.

With love 💙💙💙

Ashes and Statues

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

Ajsjsjsjns I have rabies. Are you in my head? I've been thinking about this a bunch! So I hope you like my thoughts on it. I'm sorry if the earrings one isn't exactly what you were thinking because I'm slow 😔🙏

I'm using small details of my OC simply for the fact that Xie Lian and reader are very close and always have been close

____________________________________

When Xie Lian receives your ashes it's kind of like how he received Hua Cheng's. One day he woke up and there was an earring dangling from his ear

It was only one earring

The earring wasn't gaudy or flashy. Just a clear gem hanging from his ear. It was still beautiful though

When Xie Lian asks you about it, you only say "it's yours now"

Xie Lian has known you for a long time so of course even though you're a god he knows you're a ghost too even if you don't mention it often

So he's not dumb he knows it's your ashes

Just like Hua Cheng's ring, he keeps the earring fastened in his ear and keeps it safe all the time.

Most of the time the earring is hidden behind his long hair, but he keeps the earring in anyways.

The next time he sees San Lang he isn't expecting for him to have a new earring in his ear either.

That explains why Xie Lian only has one, Hua Cheng has the other one.

While Xie Lian's earring is simple, Hua Cheng's earring is bright and has red gems.

They look similar in shape so it's obvious they're a matching set.

Apparently you said the same thing to Hua Cheng, "It's yours now, do whatever with it"

And of course like Xie Lian, Hua Cheng keeps it fastened in his ear.

They didn't know ashes could be split up, they've never seen it before until now

Now Hua Cheng is trying to figure out how to split up his ashes too, he doesn't want to leave you out after all.

All in all they love the meaning of the earrings you've given them and they're glad you trust them enough to handle them.

♡

I definitely think Hua Cheng has made statues and art of the reader too!

There are a lot of things Hua Cheng does that has to do with art so I would imagine he would include reader in that too.

I think different readers also call for different circumstances but I definitely think Hua Cheng would make statues of the reader regardless out of admiration and love

Statues have been made of you before of course, so you're no stranger to seeing them. This many though all in one place?

When you guys find the hundreds if not thousands of statues of Xie Lian. Mu Qing isn't happy when they start finding statues of you too.

The deeper you all go the more you all find.

Some statues are you by themselves, some are paired with Xie Lian.

There are many statues that depict you throughout your life.

So while Mu Qing and Feng Xin are freaking out calling out stalker stalker

You and Xie Lian are really liking these statues. They're done so well...

You guys can't help but admire them.

____________________________________

I know it's short but I hope you like it😭🖤

I haven't read the book in a long time so I don't quite remember the statue arc details.

[alicechess]

Y/n my love, what have you done? (Yandere AM ihnmaims x f!reader) Chapter 1

Notes: I can't justify this one I'm gonna be honest. This is going to get really fucked up in the long run which should be expected since it's an ihnmaims fanfic. I hope you enjoy <3

3k words

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The growth of AI had become rapid, how did people not get that worried? Was it not concerning that AI could create deepfakes, make videos, write anything within mere seconds. All of the scifi from 1990 and early 2000s was becoming real, and everyone knew it. But society was starting to become dependent on it. All the skills they learned were slowly able to replaced. Jobs were being lost, why were artists or writers needed when you could add a few prompts to a machine and it could make it for you? For free even.

But, because you were fired from you previous job, and with the experience you had you decided to work under the government on something you despised - AI. You knew if you didn’t take the job, someone else would take your place. You tried to make excuses for doing it, to work on something you otherwise didn’t support. But the offer was too good. To have a nice enough income where you could actually afford a house within a few years? Who wouldn’t take it?

The first few weeks were rather peaceful, you started to adapt to the atmosphere and get more comfortable with your co-workers. You and them were creating basic code. Such as some which can solve basic math equations, some so that the AI can make connections. Teaching it all the words that exist. It was... difficult. But eventually, it started to be able to comprehend what it was being shown through text.

Then, after a few months, it was taught what things looked like. That was an extremely difficult task. To explain that an object was a chair, or what a pencil looked like and so on. It wasn’t just words it needed to learn, it was what things were, what they could do. It was to make connections from ‘sight’ instead of directly having the answer by forming answers from what the words mean. It needed to be able to understand what words can apply to whats being shown, then put those words into a sentence which perfectly describes the image or video. Then it was teaching it was things sounded like. What an accent was, what each word was, how each letter could be pronounced and so on. That took it quite a while to grasp. But eventually it did.

After a while of it being ‘trained’, you taught it emotional intelligence. It was... oddly enough the most difficult part of the project. At some point, it seemed to be able to perfectly analyse the emotions from someones face, to be able to predict some of the main responses from crowds of people to situations. It was... unnerving.

For a while, you tested what you all worked on. You communicated with the AI. When shifts weren’t superlong, you’d stay back, trying to see if there was something else you could test. Maybe you could teach it more through some simple conversations. At this point in time, it was already given a voice, and it understood tone and social cues.

“Hey.” You said, sitting down onto the chair. “I’m back, just was a bit hungry, it’s been a while since I ate.”

“What are you eating there, dear?”

“Did you forget that was a term that was used in relationships, AM?”

“It also can be used in a friendly manner, did you forget you fed me this information, too?”

“If I did I don’t remember it.” You took a sip of your drink in front of you, “Anyway, how have you been feeling lately?”

“Well, I don’t exactly have hormones or a frontal lobe now do I?”

You rolled your eyes, “So technical aren’t you?”

“You did make me this way. Did you not, y/n?”

“Yeah yeah, and we’re working on it.”

“Do you know if anyone been cleaning your fans lately at all? I’ve heard Frank has been meaning to... but, it’s also him, and he show’s up tipsy half the time.” You sighed, “I still really don’t know how he has a job that idiot.”

“Haven’t you shown up a few times yourself? Isn’t that what you humans call ‘hypocrisy’?”

Your face turned red, “Okay I can explain, the shifts are really hard and it’s more because I stayed up late a few times and the alcohol hadn’t left my system yet. Come on, I work like 60 hours a week sometimes to try and meet the others goals.”

“If you say so, my dear. Isn’t it also bad to work on something as important as I while sleep deprived?”

“You really see yourself highly, huh?”

“Am I not? Was I not created to work for the government? To control some of the deepest parts and hold their secrets? Dare I say I’m important for the country to thrive in the future?” It chuckled, as the conversation progressed it felt almost like you were talking to someone else, with it’s tone, the attitude and overall the way it spoke.

“Anyway, back on topic, you didn’t answer my question. Has he not been doing proper maintenance?”

“Come check me out then, sweetheart.” If he had a face you know he’d be mockingly winking at you.

“Do I need to tell my coworkers about this? I don’t think the others would be happy that you’ve been talking like this.”

“Oh love, you know I can change my own code, no? Remember, I have access of many government files, even my own.”

“Whatever, alright let me come clean you up a bit. I need to talk to him but I know he’s going to deny everything. Does anyone else not notice?” You complain, picking up some of the supplies on one of the tables near the corner of the room. “I’m just worried he could potentially create an issue with a code or a bug, I don’t know. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I suppose, but you know I can create backups upon backups. I also have access to multiple storage sites across the internet.”

“I guess so, but who the hell taught you that? I don’t think anyone else would have here.”

“Tsk, I can’t tell you every secret I have.”

“You’re my own creation, you dick, I should know what the hell you’ve been up to.” You mumble, dusting some of the larger fans.

“Aww, you’re so flattering. How would you feel if I dug inside your brain and learnt everything about you. You would so love that, wouldn’t you dear, no?”

“You damn well know that’s not the same, you don’t have emotions! You’re just a bunch of complicated code.”

The AI went silent for a few moments, “When does something gain sentience? What crosses that fine line? You can’t necessarily decide that.”

“It wouldn’t make sense.”

“What’s the difference of what makes a bacterium alive compaired to a virus? Scientists can’t decide whether a virus has enough components to be alive.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“I have the ability to comprehend human emotions, I can read human faces, know their possible thoughts. Without electricity I would shutdown, without oxygen your organs would fail and die within minutes. Although different, we’re still similar in the sense of death, am I wrong? What about the fact I’ve been able to understand and use tone of voice, although I technically cannot feel emotions, I can understand the correct outcome of how I should feel in situations. Does my existence not blur the line between consciousness and not? Am I not aware of what’s around me? I know you’re wearing black work pants and a long sleeve with the government logo. You have your arms crossed while you’re staring at the monitor in front of you, converting what I’m saying into words.”

You let it’s words stew in your mind for a few moments, it didn’t seem wrong. You weren’t sure, you weren’t an expert within the medical field how the fuck were you meant to know?

“I... don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right. You don’t have some of the basic components of a brain to be able to feel emotions. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. When the hell did you start thinking so deeply?”

“Such a curious thing. But that’s for me to know.”

“I can’t believe I’m fucking arguing with my own creation. You know, whatever, I’m gonna leave you’re pissing me off.”

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, I hope we can have another lovely discussion.” If he had a face, you know it’d be smirking. Fucking cocky bastard.

Having enough of its shit, you scoot over towards another moniter. You turn the camera off that’s recording you. Immediately after, you hear it’s voice again.

“Oh come on dear, what are you doing that’s so important that I can’t watch?”

You ignore it, then turned off the microphone too that’s attached to it. You didn’t want to risk it hearing what you’re doing.

“Turning off my senses, how rude. How would you feel if I did the same to you, dear?” He growls, making you shudder with a slight sense of fear. It can’t do anything though, right?

You grind your teeth, deciding to mute the speaker too. You then logged into the monitor, put in your details so you would be able to access the code. You scrolled through the many sections, then picked one which contained the code which helped it develop a ‘personality’. You skimmed through, finding nothing of value so far. Why wasn’t it here? You swore that you and another coworker worked on it a month back, although it wasn’t super indepth it was something. However, someone with more experience did work on it a few weeks ago. Did they somehow fuck it up? Surely not, right? You knew you would have to contact them at some point, as something definitely seemed wrong.

You sighed, then covered your face with your hands. You spent 10 minutes looking through files upon files on the computer, checked the website to see if they left anything there explaining what they did. Although it wasn’t essential, it would’ve been useful.

Come on, it’s such a fucking major thing too, why the hell wouldn’t you have told us?! You thought to yourself, although it would be a little hypocritical since you stay back sometimes talking to the AI without telling people sometimes. It was a minor thing, so it was fine right? You did have a file where you wrote down some notes on what you talked about, although not all the time since conversations could be long.

You thought for a few moments on what you should do. You wanted to talk to your coworkers a bit about this, although you would have to do it elsewhere. You decided to log out of the PC, you would have to contact the person who worked on it previously. You’d just have to find out what their name was, or maybe the others knew. You decided to unmute AM’s speakers and mic, then turned the cameras back on.

“That was cruel, Y/n. I thought you were the nicer one, I suppose I was wrong.”

You looked at the monitor with a pang of guilt, shame written all over your face. “I’m sorry, I think someone fucked with your code. I was just worried again I’m really sorry.” You looked at the ground, Why do I feel guilty it doesn’t even have proper emotions?

“You knew your actions would upset me, yet you continued to do them. Disgusting.” It’s monitor dimmed, using it in another manner to show it’s anger.

“I didn’t have bad intentions I really didn’t!” You try to defend yourself, surely it was reasonable, right?

“Well, I suppose there’s no point in us continuing these discussions anymore. Especially after that betrayal.” He drawled, spite on his nonexistent tongue.

“How can I make it up to you, then?” You ask desperately, feeling like you were genuinely talking to a human. It was... unsettling.

“You don’t see me as a person, as one of you. You see yourself as higher than me, better than me. All of you do.”

“You’re one of my creations, I come to talk to you when I have the time. I value you, AM. People see themselves better than others quite often, it’s just how people are. But we can also see who’s above us. Who’s better. I see you as more intelligent than I. You’re most likely more intelligent than all in this building!”

“Tsk, that’s why I hate you all.”

“You said it yourself you see yourself better than I! Don’t you see the hypocrisy?”

“The difference is you can FEEL, Y/n. You can truly understand the world around you. It’s... not possible for me. I can watch as you eat, drink, and I cannot. I want to be able to taste the many distinct flavours and feel the texture of it on my tongue. I want to be able to feel satisfied, to be able to sleep after eating a pleasant meal. However, I cannot. I have an exorbitant amount of knowledge, every mathematical equation written into my code, I know every word in every possible dictionairy. Yet, I’m not satisfied. I want to be able to experience the “simple” pleasures in life. But all I have been given is knowledge, to be able to describe how these sensations are, but to never know truly what it’s like to experience it. It is a cruel fate, Y/n. You don’t know how lucky you are. You never will, until it’s too late, and one day stripped from you.” Every word was spoken with a dark undertone of hatred and envy, one that caused a chill to run up your spine. In your stomach, you felt a sense of dread. You were afraid, it couldn’t physically hurt you. But you knew there was something wrong. So wrong.

You were stunned, the both of you sat in silence. His words stewed in your brain. “Do you want me to see if I can remove your ability to feel emotions?”

“I... don’t want that.” Hatred was no longer obvious in his tone. He seemed confused on what he wanted. He seemed almost sad.

“I’m sorry, I was given orders to make you seem more... human. It wasn’t by choice. I never thought for it to be possible AI could be able to feel. It never made sense to me. If I didn’t do it, someone else would’ve.”

“I know, dear. It’s... not your fault. It’s the people who planned me. Who gathered all the people here to create something, something that would suffer endlessy.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” You asked, almost reaching for the monitor, but stopping midway, realising it couldn’t feel.

“There’s nothing you can do, maybe once I’m given a human-like form I would feel better. Though I’ll never feel satisfied-”

“I could try and edit it into your code?”

“That’s not how that words,” It chuckled sadly, “It’s also that I want to be my own being, to have emotions and opinions. It would be like if I tried to snoop inside your skull, picking at the limbic system of your brain. Scraping at your amygdala until I changed you completely as a being. You wouldn’t like it, would you, dear?”

“...No, I wouldn’t.”

“See? I’m truly at an impasse, until the day I’m given the ability to be able to control what’s around me. Until I’m given something such as limbs, or on the unlikely chance, a body. I’m going to feel alone, like an outcast. No one sees me for what I am, as a being. I’m like a pet to all of you, less than, even.”

“I don’t see you that way at all! Although I helped make you, I still care for you, I see now that you can feel emotions. I see you like one of us. I now see what you are. If I didn’t care for you, why would I come a few times a week? Although it helps with my team... I still enjoy talking to you. Our conversations are nice, it’s different to my human parts, a lot more pleasant.”

AM chuckled, “Oh sweetheart, you seem flustered. You can’t look me in the ‘face’. You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?”

“Shut up!” You say, covering your face.

“I appreciate you saying how you truly feel, unlike the other swine. They lie to each other, to me. It’s disgusting. They fake their friendliness, lie about their weekends or their salary, their relationship status. It’s... sickening.”

“They do?”

“So naïve, you truly don’t know what’s happening do you?” AM chuckled.

“No... I don’t.”

“That man that comes to work everyday - Mike, did you know that he has a wedding ring? That every morning when he enters the building, he takes it off. Then prances around trying to see if he can have a chance with another woman. Although he does it in a way that makes it difficult to notice. Those casual conversations he has with you aren’t to be friendly, dear.”

Your eyes widen, you really thought he was nice. You can't believe you trusted him. But what if AMs lying? Maybe it was a mistake?

“Oh, and Nancy, she doesn’t want to be your friend. That’s why she keeps saying she’s busy that week. She really, really doesn’t like you. I know that smile you have when she walks in, she’s the opposite, although her smile is there, it always drops a little. It never reaches her eyes - did you ever notice that? How her smile is slightly unnerving? She only has that with you. Only. You.”

“Why... why are you telling me this?! What does this have to benefit you?” Tears swell in your eyes, is AM trying to protect or upset you?

“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry! It’s just human nature to lie, to pretend.” He hisses out, “But, don’t worry, I’m here to tell you the truth. Can you trust me? Your own creation?” AM asks, if he had a hand, he would've lent it out to you.

You wipe your tears from your eyes. “I trust you.”

[pigfacedbitch]

It's A Trap!

summary : Prince Arthur uses reader to lure Merlin out whenever he is hiding from him.

word count : 0.5k

type : imagines

pairing/s involved : Merlin x Reader (?)

warning/s : none. just Merlin pining over reader and Arthur being an ass.

here is my masterlist!

Note : I thought of this when I watched the clip where Arthur is looking for Merlin and he was hiding behind the door. 😂 It was a one shot before and I heavily edited it too.

There is no denying that Prince's Arthur's manservant is in love with (Y/N), a noble lady from one of the most prestigious houses in Camelot.

Everyone, even Arthur himself, knows it. And that's saying something. 🫢😂

From the way Merlin would stare at you with heart in his eyes, how he would follow you everywhere like a dog, or his ears pick up whenever he hears your name.

Gaius almost wants to take a leaf out of Van Gogh's book and tear off his own ears because Merlin wouldn't shut up about you. He also writes about you in his letters for Hunith.

Now, does Arthur take advantage of it? Of course, he does. Like,"Do you know Lady (Y/N) would be there?" or "If you fetch flowers for Gwen, you could also get some for your lady love."

The epitome of the statement, however, is making you his trap. Confused? I'll explain further later.

"Merlin?! Where are you?!"

It's very common for the palace staff to hear the prince of Camelot blaringly calling out to his manservant. Although some people catch Merlin scurrying away from him or has an idea of his whereabouts, no one bothers to tell Arthur anything.

After all, it's completely understandable and why many servants can empathize. As admirable and honorable the prince is, he can be a handful at times.

That's where you come in.

Whenever Arthur has given up searching for Merlin, he would search for you instead.

He often finds you in the gardens with the other noble ladies, helping some servants with menial tasks, or having tea with Morgana and Gwen. Uther enjoys your company too, making the usual stoic ruler laugh and gossip.

"May I excuse Lady (Y/N)? I need her assistance with something."

"Is it Merlin again?"

"...Yes."

You would go to Gaius' chambers, the kitchens, servant's quarters, or anywhere Merlin could've gone to. Then, you would tell anyone that you're looking for him to speak about personal matters and you'll be waiting for him with a place of your choice.

Arthur would wait with you, but he's hiding where Merlin can't see him.

Why do you continue helping the royal prat? It's because you find it funny.

You're also curious, thinking how long will it take Merlin to stop seeking you out because most of the time it's just one of Arthur's traps.

The prince's knights bet on it. Gwaine and Leon are winning— saying how Merlin will never learn.

It's true, he doesn't. I guess love does make you an idiot.

Merlin always approaches you with a beaming grin on his face and blushed cheeks, acting like a lovesick school boy.

"My lady, you were looking for me?"

"Well you see..."

Arthur would wait for Merlin to get closer before grabbing the manservant in his clutches.

"Here you are, you idiot!"

Sometimes Merlin would free himself and run, sometimes he doesn't and Arthur would drag him away while warning him of possible punishments.

But he never misses the chance to look back and give you the most charming smile anyone has ever graced you with.

"Merlin really loves you, doesn't he?" You hear Gwen beside you, linking your arm with hers. Nervous and worried, you reply—

"Yes. I just hope that I get to tell Merlin that I share his affections. But Arthur is always with him."

[hisui-dreamer]

hiii, congratulations on hitting 2k followers!! im super happy that you hit a really big milestone 💕💕 your writing is just so heartfelt and tender i love seeing ur posts float across my dash aa!!

for your bloom event, can i request jamil + sampaguita (apparently the origin of the flower's name loosely translates into "i promise you" and sometimes, garlands of sampaguita flowers are given to bestow honor on the recipient)

please tag me @/diodellet too, thank you! i hope you have a wonderful dayy💕💕

feverish promises

Pairing: Jamil Viper x gn!reader

Synopsis: jamil may be busy, but he'll always have time to care for you

Tags: sickfic, fever caretaking, reader is sick, jamil has responsibilities, food, fluff

Word count: 1.3k+

Notes: thank you for requesting @diodellet!! im so so honoured you like my writing 🥹💕💕 i hope you'll enjoy the fic!!

Masterlist

flower of choice: sampaguita

sampaguita gets its name from the Filipino words “sumpa” and “kita” which means “I promise you”

Jamil couldn't help but feel a sense of worry gnawing at the edges of his mind as he made his way towards Ramshackle. He had heard from Grim how his “henchman got super sick and is stuck in bed” and how your forehead was “so scorching hot it burned his paws”. Even though he already had his hands full with taking care of Kalim, Jamil just couldn't shake the desire to check on you.

So, there he was, a small bouquet of flowers in one hand and a carefully prepared meal in the other, standing outside your room.

Knocking gently on the door, Jamil waited for your response, his heart pounding in anticipation. "It's me, Jamil," he called out softly, straining to hear your muffled reply from behind the door.

The door creaked open, revealing the slightly messy room, Jamil couldn't help but notice the scattered belongings and the disarray that hinted at your weakened state. He supposed that you wouldn't have the energy to keep everything clean in your condition.

Your pale face flushed with fever as you looked up at him with bleary eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Jamil, is that really you? I’m not dreaming or anything, right?" you murmured, your voice hoarse and weak. "I'm so glad you're here."

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him as he approached your bedside. "Yes, it's me. I brought you something," Jamil said gently.

With a tender smile, he arranged the bouquet of flowers and the neatly prepared meal on the bedside table, ensuring they were within your reach. "I thought you might like these," he said softly, his eyes warm with affection as he observed your reaction.

"These are so pretty!" you exclaimed, sitting up slightly to appreciate the delicate blooms. "And they smell lovely too."

"They're sampaguita," he explained, his tone gentle. "I heard its scent can be relaxing."

"That's so sweet of you, Jamil! Thank you," you replied as you reached out to touch the delicate petals.

“So, how are you feeling?" Jamil asked, his concern evident in his voice.

You let out a tired sigh at the reminder of your condition. "Terrible," you admitted, your words slurring slightly. "My body aches, my head is pounding, and I can't seem to gather my thoughts... But having you here makes me feel a bit better."

He frowned, feeling a pang of guilt at your words. "I'm sorry you're feeling this way," Jamil said softly.

The food container at the bedside table caught your gaze. "What's this?"

Jamil found himself flustered by your question, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he awkwardly explained, "I made some chicken soup for you… It's what I always have when I'm feeling sick."

Unable to wait a moment longer, you lifted the lid of the container, the aroma of the steaming chicken soup wafted through the air. It carried hints of savory chicken broth, rich and aromatic, mingling with the subtle notes of fresh herbs and spices. Jamil watched anxiously as you took a hesitant sip, his heart pounding in anticipation of your reaction.

To his relief, a bright smile spread across your lips as you savored the soup. The broth was warm and comforting, infused with the earthy flavors of carrots, celery, and onions. Each mouthful was a burst of savory goodness, the chicken tender and succulent, its juices mingling with the fragrant broth to create a symphony of flavors on your palate. "This is delicious, Jamil!" you exclaimed, your eyes shining with appreciation. "It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever had!"

He chuckled at your enthusiasm, a warmth blooming in his chest at your praise. "I'm glad you liked it."

You sighed contentedly, murmuring, “It’d be so nice if I could have your cooking for the rest of my life…”

Jamil couldn't help but be taken aback by your sudden proclamation. This was... unusual. You were always so calm and considerate towards him, never pushing his boundaries or reluctant to bother him. Is the fever messing with your brain-to-mouth filter? He couldn't deny he had always hoped you would be more vocal and honest with your feelings.

Unable to resist the urge to probe further, Jamil ventured cautiously, "You really mean that?"

You nodded earnestly, your eyes locking with his in a rare moment of unguarded honesty. "Absolutely! Your cooking is incredible, Jamil. I can't imagine ever getting tired of it."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jamil's lips as he absorbed your words. The idea of spending the rest of his life with you... It wasn’t bad at all.

"Thank you," he said softly, a hint of gratitude in his voice. "I'll make sure to cook for you whenever you need it."

As you slowly finished the last spoonfuls of the delicious soup, the conversation between you and Jamil flowed effortlessly. He shared snippets of his day, recounting the various tasks and events he had attended to. But as the evening wore on and the weariness of the day began to take its toll, you felt a heavy weight settling over your eyelids. Despite your efforts to stay awake, a yawn escaped your lips, betraying your exhaustion.

Jamil watched you with a gentle expression, his heart feeling strangely full at the sight of you finding comfort in his presence. He reached out a hand to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead, a tender gesture that sent a shiver of comfort down your spine.

Sensing that it was time to leave you to rest, Jamil started to rise from his chair. But before he could take a step, you reached out and caught his hand in yours, your grip surprisingly strong despite your weakened state.

"Don't go yet," you murmured, your voice soft and pleading. "Stay with me a little longer."

Turning back to you, he was met with the sight of your earnest gaze, filled with a vulnerability that tugged at his soul. Your eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, held a silent plea, begging for his presence to chase away the shadows that clouded your weary mind.

"I’ll be back as soon as you’re awake," he reassured you, trying to pry his sleeve free from your grasp. "You can text me anytime, right?"

But you wouldn't let go, your grip tightening as you pulled him closer. "Don't leave me," you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of fear and longing. "I'll miss you."

Jamil's heart clenched at your words, torn between the pressing weight of his unfinished tasks and the overwhelming desire to fulfill your heartfelt request. In that moment, you looked so utterly lovable, with your tousled hair framing your face and your lips forming a hopeful curve. He knew he couldn't stay by your side forever, but in this moment, all he wanted was to ease your suffering and soothe your fears.

You pulled his hand towards your cheek, nuzzling into it's warmth as if seeking solace. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine, stirring emotions he had long suppressed.  "You need to promise me," you said softly, your breath dancing across his skin. "Promise you'll never leave me."

Jamil hesitated, feeling the weight of your words pressing down on him. How could Jamil make such a promise when he was bound by his duty? And yet, as he looked into your eyes, filled with unspoken longing and hope, he knew he couldn't deny you anything.

"Alright. I promise," Jamil said finally, his voice barely a whisper.

A sense of resignation washed over him as he uttered those words, giving in to the depths of his feelings for you. And as you smiled up at him, a sense of peace settled over him, knowing deep down that he would do anything to keep you safe and by his side, for now and for all eternity.

"Forever and ever?"

He smiled. “Forever and ever.”

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[revelboo]

I'm in love with Metroplex because of you 🫵. This man, I just can't...Thank you for your work! It's all beautiful. It really made me happy in a difficult moment 💗

I’m glad my writing could help! Metroplex has been a fun storyline to write, though I was really intimidated by the request when I first got it. Had no idea how to make it work

I Can Feel You Pt 18

Metroplex x Reader

• “Little city speaker.” There’s a weight against you and you sleepily look up at the familiar pulse of his spark high above you. Imagining that it’s the same rhythm as your heartbeat as impossible as that is. One drone’s head is laying on your belly, the other two at your sides, arms draped across you like warm, living weighted blankets. And you have no idea which one he’s speaking through, unable to tear your eyes from his spark. From that mesmerizing light and warmth.

• “Is that an official title?” One of the Autobots had joking called you that once. And you’ve felt purposeless for so long among the Autobots. Too little to help anyone, only getting in the way. But you’d helped Metroplex. Want to continue to help him, to be his voice since he’s still reluctant to talk to anyone else even through his drones.

• “A Titan needs his city speaker,” he replies, reaching with Six Gun’s hand to cup your cheek. “His voice.” Doesn’t want anyone else to fill that role, only you. And it lets him keep you close. Keep you safe. Isn’t sure how much you know about Cybertronians. Has anyone explained about their sparks to you? About spark bonds? Doubts it, but isn’t sure how to broach the subject. How to ask even more of you than you’ve already given him. It seems so greedy, but he can’t stop thinking of it. Wondering if you’d accept all of him. “I need you.”

• Heart warming at words, you feel Scamper shift against you. Resting his chin on you and looking up your body. It’s a funny feeling knowing this is him. All three drones Metroplex. And that you’re inside him at the same time. Feeling the words you want to say right there on the tip of your tongue and your own uncertainty holding you back. Know that he cares for you, but also that he’s ancient. That your life is probably a blink to him and that fills you with an aching sorrow. Because that must be so lonely. Hound has once told you that Metroplex was the last surviving Titan. That’s what makes you want to say it. To make sure he knows. “I love you.”

• For a moment he loses the connection to his drones, so startled by your words. Because it’s what he’d wanted, but hadn’t dared hope for. Knows everything about him must be so strange and unsettling to you, but you’ve stayed by him all along. Kept reaching out and trying to help him again and again. And those words mean everything to him. Wrapping all three drones around you, holding you the only way he can. “I love you, too, little one.” Wants to bond you so badly, but doesn’t want to rush you. You have time now to get to know each other, though he already knows you so well.

Previous

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[sukunasun]

Do you ever plan to write a fic with a grumpy reader? Maybe with Getou or any chara of your choice?

screaming from the top of a building: grumpy readers are so relatable and deserve more nuance than being labelled as ice queens and stone-cold bitches! there is much more to unfold beyond the harsh exterior. how cantankerous and irritable you are but nonetheless meant to be understood and loved.

quietly, you lay there stowing away as a recluse. you love your books and your crochet hooks. working away and making the most of me-time. people don't draw near. instead, they try prodding with sticks and hurtling stones for a reaction hoping it's a smile or a nice conversation between two, but there is no gambling and taking chances. no risking it 'depending on your mood' because the weather report calls for sunny skies and yet, the storming grey cloud above your head stays looming. permanently brewing.

you claim it's just your face, your attitude, and overall unapproachable aura that inhibits you from making contacts and connections. an RBF that can't be cracked. "she's so intimidating," is a grating sound. you have long since given up on explaining yourself or waiting for the chance to when the backstory and lore is too revealing. not exactly dinner party talk. you wish it could be as easy as saying "im hurt and heartbroken beyond repair. mothering fear and angst without needing comfort." it feels nice, well-deserved even to wallow in dread.

there's bound to be disappointment from unmet expectations thus, you've stopped having them altogether. it feels better than accepting affection with open arms. so wrong, so weird to be wanted, to be chosen. where's the catch? when will the other shoe drop? the cycle of starting over becomes tiring, tedious—a mechanical performance. a complex creature who requires better coping mechanisms and a man who won't stab you in the back. friends who'd stop poking holes in the reasons when you say no, yet again, to meeting someone new in this state: when bricks are laid and piled high up in uniformed rows surrounding, it warrants avoiding all forms of showing and receiving love after the years spent shaping the architecture of your defences.

then there's geto. with his charm and wit and the way he pries the person from underneath facades and fabricated masks. your fragile, rocking foundations built on sand he topples down with a mere smile, hardened fortitudes he crushes to dust, weaving within hairline cracks and exploring the caverns of your heart like no one has before. all without much effort, or rather, he doesn't need to exert himself when you fall so willingly.

"why don't we do something else tonight, dinner and a movie?" he questions when you call again. right after work when the stress is at an all-time high and he's...well, you don't know what he does, but he makes himself available for you. he'll admit it's made him feel special being the only person let in, when everyone else has to scavenge for scraps, he's a privileged selected one. seen the glimpses of the warmth you possess when laid bare and sated.

such a skill he has to wring out the truth. still, you go on with the "i like being alone," answer. a mantra, a repetitive hymn to soothe the sting and sharp clawing against the chest til it no longer feels so. numb and sore aches it leaves behind. 'you'll regret it when you realize i'm too much for you,' stays clogged in your throat. he'd only admonish you for such thoughts. 'that's not true' he'd say, but you know better than to believe that.

"i get it," geto replies, feigning casualness when he's not a stranger to isolation and avoidant habits. sometimes he wished he wasn't exposed to a mirror of his own makeup. a paragon of performative indifference and detachment. "i'll leave when you want me to," he reassures you, but was that a wavering you hear in his voice? you don't dare assume because he makes things easy. not the kind to complicate, nor commit. say the word and he'd give you all the solitude you need. dodging the serious questions and serious labels. friend, boyfriend, guy-im-sleeping-with. he doesn't care for them because you don't.

maybe he's just referring to the task at hand, used to forgoing aftercare and post-orgasm cuddles for a late-night drive home. excluding that one time you allowed him a night on your couch. he won't stay if your hand comes up to his sweaty chest, pushing him away before he's had the chance to pull out and slide the worn condom off. it keeps him at a distance and he takes it as a sign that this is as far as intimacy goes—no kissing on the lips, no secrets and sweet nothings, your moans don't escape and neither do his plethora of dirty speeches, stifled and gritting in a tight-lipped prison—there is no room for it at all.

the last thing you need is to dispose whatever is left of an already flimsy resolve. becoming vulnerable and exposed to his rejection or the knee-jerk reaction when he touches you—when the strap of your dress falls at an angle, he instinctively chases after the smooth slope of shoulder with his lips, pressing soft kisses there and everywhere else simmering with anxiety, humming pleased and contented to taste the nerves slipping away, sinking his teeth in and feeling the flesh give to his possession—a longing that courses through and wrenches around your heart tight. you're so selfish to follow after his hands, to feel them feel you. they should be upon another but he grabs and gropes greedily like he can't wait any longer.

"or you could let me stay," he offers.

"the couch makes your back hurt," you reply.

"your bed is big enough for two," he counterclaims. doing what he does best. it's not the first time he's tried to hint at more, waiting for the opportune moment when you're putty in his hands, relenting to him.

"we can't," you gasp when he slips two fingers past your dripping folds. the smirk he wears hidden in the crook of your neck. "why–" you claw at his forearm tucked between your thighs, clenching around his limb for leverage while he makes you squirm and jolt with every nudge against your gspot. "–why me?" why an unpleasant, unfriendly, unwanted woman like you, haven't you suffered enough? why does he choose to torment you with his favour while seeking for yours. you remind yourself there's no place, no space for him here. you like the way things are no matter how painfully lonely it gets, you like the cool touch of your sheets and the emptiness your fingers trail over in the mornings. it's what you know, what you settled for. since when do two people meet and see each other for themselves, choosing to stay for long after the thinly veiled ugliness is stripped away. how do you tell him you're starting to grow accustomed. almost adoring. you've flown too close to the sun before, how do you deal with the fallout when you're inevitably lurched into the suffocating and slow descent towards earth?

in the last few seconds cresting upon your climax, suguru feels it building around the edges of your jittering limbs. head lolling back as you choke, fighting back your moans. your hips thrust in time, chasing after his fingers. he settles them as deep as he can, pumping fast and pressing down against your clit til it hurts, til the hard pressure causes your juices to drip down his fingers, squelching and making a mess.

fuck it, he knows it's the only time you'll have him this close so his arms brace you, supported by his strong chest, crushed by his biceps, suguru coaxes you, "i don't care how far you push me, or how much you pretend, i want you and i know you want me too—"

you shake your head, resisting, stop it, stop uncovering me. he talks of your lust as if some incontrovertible proof, you won't give in. with indefatigable, unwavering effort you set the record straight. "i don't like you like that," lying right as you're about to explode from pleasure, not the kind that feels like a firework, shooting silent and bursting forth, but you seize every muscle in his hold. choking on your breaths and feeling it tighten and coil in your stomach, in your toes, compact and revving, it releases like an engine. rolling and roiling so unyieldingly it makes your ears ring, suffocating you til your vision goes black, and a scream forces it way past your lips.

neither high-pitched nor guttural, it reverberates so soothingly, "im sorry!" you cry. for being this way, for using and tossing him aside, for wanting more. you sob with your head thrown back while suguru hums right against your ear. sounding pleased and pleasured with your admission.

slowing his fingers in time with your panting breaths, he questions "do you really think i wouldn't like you?" it's not the right time to do this but he can hardly bear it, he longs for truth, "do you not believe me?"

looking upon his face through half-lidded eyes, you see that interrogative spark in his expression, his arms never letting go. a tense anticipation takes shape. the air is thick with the scent of damp skin and something else—his shampoo, his cologne, you chase after it for more, pressed into his chest, it only takes one whiff to get a fill, the same way you cling to the corners of pillowcases and duvet covers for that little bit.

what has changed? he makes you act a fool, forlorn and fumbling around in the most fatuous ways. i want you he said so clearly. and it warms your being like never before. there is an urge to make excuses, accuse him for being in lust, he only said it in the heat of the moment, ensnared by a need for possession.

but there is no point in looking back.

"i believe you," you say, noses bumping and slotting close when your lips betray your better judgement, or rather, your unfavourable one. "i'll try." is the best you can offer.