#fic: interwoven

[ohraicodoll]

Interwoven | Chapter 5

Chapters:  5/6 Fandom:  The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating:  Mature/Explicit Relationships:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Hob Gadling, Original Characters, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne, Calliope, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Calliope, The Endless, Eve, Delirium, Death, Desire Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Domestic Abuse, Domestic Violence, Jealousy, Trauma Responses Tags: Character Development, Established Relationships, General complicated feelings, meeting the family, meeting the friends, talk about fantasies, domestic life, fluff, past Relationships, ANGST, OFC: Dahlia, Named Reader, 1st POV

Summary: She had very few people in her life and while he denied it, Dream had so many. People that cared for him, people that warned her. Or in other terms, Dream and Dahlia’s casual relationship is turning not so casual. Chapter Summary: The past and present collide. CHAPTER WARNING: References to Domestic Abuse, Violence, Assault, Graphic Descriptions, Trauma Depictions

4th in the Fragments Series | Read on AO3 Writing Masterlist Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Previous in Series: Possession Next in Series: The Complications of Family Chapter 5: Calliope and-

As I often did when faced with having to have a hard conversation, I pushed it under the rug and moved on, content to let the unease stay under the surface. Fear and uncertainty won out and it wouldn’t change anything, bringing it all up. Going back to the Waking World was surprisingly difficult but life called. I had work and bills and it’s not like there was cellphone service in the Dreaming so I had to make sure Anissa or Hob weren’t blowing up my phone or freaking out that I’d disappeared. Morpheus eventually fixed that issue through…magic? I wasn’t sure, but he was able to contact people with glowing orbs so it wasn’t too much of a stretch. The orb system wouldn’t quite work for Anissa unless I wanted to spill the news of who he was or give her a heart attack so we went with making my phone reachable in the Dreaming. But life went on. Morpheus didn’t open up about his sisters though I knew something was bothering him and I didn’t bring up Alianora. It was easier to face the insecurity eating me away than the potential argument that would ensue. He was on edge, simultaneously aloof and more protective and I wasn’t sure how to approach him. The holiday months came and passed, one after the other, and time marched ever on. When most people gathered with their families, I stayed in the Dreaming with Morpheus or we’d go to Hob’s flat above the New Inn. Two family-less mortals and an Endless who didn’t seem to care for his. Dream didn’t particularly care if it was a certain holiday, I think using it as an excuse to get away and be with us. Celebrating mostly involved listening to the immortal talk, us bickering, and too much drinking, but for once the holidays didn’t feel as lonely as previous years. Anissa tried to drag me to her family gathering but I declined, not quite feeling like being an outsider and watching what I had lost. It turns out the Dreaming did seem to celebrate certain holidays, or at least some areas of it did. Abel was the main facilitator, going around and decorating furiously and getting the staff involved. Lucienne even wrote out holiday cards for the Dreaming residents. Most of them visited the Houses of Mystery and Secrets for Christmas and ice skating, the large lake nearby frozen over and the area covered in snow. Watching Merv and his Guano Gang of bats try to help hang up lights and decorate trees was particularly entertaining and even if Morpheus didn’t fully participate in all the activity, choosing to work instead, he’d joined for parts of it and stood at my side or watched Lucienne attempt to teach me to ice skate. I knew that even if he seemed disinterested, there was no way the weather in the realm magically became a winter wonderland without his help. It was a small thing, but I noticed it. And as the new year came and went, as I spent time where I could in the Dreaming and Morpheus became a more solid presence in my life, this thing between us felt like an expanding bubble. It was getting harder to ignore, harder to swallow and say we were nothing because we didn’t feel like nothing. We felt like too much. The Dreaming was feeling like home. He was feeling like home. I’d gone from being hollow and going from one empty relationship to another, desperately seeking some sort of affection after Aiden, empty and craving something to make the world less gray. Now life was magic and stories and immortals and people who genuinely cared for me. Anissa, though not his biggest fan, stopped ribbing me about Morpheus and seemed to accept him in a passive aggressive way. Though she didn’t stop giving him shit when the few times she was around him. Hob was quickly becoming a close friend and confidant, someone that understood having a secret and being tied to magic. He’d seen and experienced so much but was still full of light and kindness. Lucienne and Matthew and all of the Dreaming accepted me and seemed happy enough for me to be around. And Dream, he cared. Cared so much that it felt like I would be swallowed whole by the endless stars and sky that burned in his eyes. He hated me being away, I could tell. Each time I left the Dreaming, he seemed to cling tighter and when he would leave, he’d linger longer. I knew he was aware of the bubble growing as well, this building thing between us and I wasn’t sure how he felt. Morpheus was simultaneously desperate to have me at his side and mysteriously distant at times, doing work that he wouldn’t share or expand upon when asked. It felt like he was hiding something and I wasn’t sure how to feel. Complicated. Attached. Mine and his. Words I’d used to describe us seemed too simple now. They didn’t fit. But different words, words that lingered on my tongue when I smiled at him wide with utter abandon or felt his lips on my skin in worship, felt too big. Like I would choke on them if they left my lips. Like he’d vanish if he attempted to utter them. Thus, we stayed in limbo, too big and too small, but knowing something would change soon for better or for worse. A car crash waiting to happen. I chewed my lip as I left my office building, the air outside warmer in the evening now. Spring had come slowly but a few tendrils of Winter still clung, the slight bite in the morning hanging in the air by lunch and now gone entirely by evening. The day had been slow, boring, and I’d spent a dumb amount of time at work arguing about an old collection of fairy tales over text with Hob in between his lectures. I had no doubt it would continue when he came over for dinner with Dream, who would no doubt settle it between us, but I was determined to be right. I had even called the local bookshop I frequented close to my apartment to see if they carried the book I was thinking of. He was stubborn but so was I. Anissa was out on vacation for a week, leaving the office stuffy and boring so I was eager to leave as soon as the clock turned. I sighed and checked my phone before entering into the small bookshop down the street, the bell ringing overhead. I had a bit of time before both immortals came over. Hob was going to be doing the cooking so he had plans to come over earlier to start, Morpheus showing up whenever he deemed he could get away. He didn’t eat with us but usually drank wine while we did, choosing to enjoy the company instead. We’d learned better after making him try the food once, overly excited to see him change his mind and only getting a bland reaction in return. Unless it was on my skin, he wasn’t a fan of human foods. There weren't a lot of people inside, most customers already headed home for the night rather than stopping in to shop. I twiddled with the black stone on my necklace and went to the isle where the book would likely be, skimming over the titles and slightly smiling at myself while thinking of the two men that simultaneously annoyed me and kept me on my toes in different ways. But I was determined to be able to throw this book in Hob’s face if only to see his reaction. I chewed my lip and then made a small noise of satisfaction as the title fell under my fingertips, the book obviously second hand and well loved but the golden foil of the words holding up. I flipped through the pages anxiously, grinning when it found the one I knew had been in this collection. He had been so determined to say it wasn’t included, it was going to be so satisfying to prove him wrong. “I take it you found what you were looking for?” a soft feminine voice spoke behind me and I jumped, hugging the book to my chest and knocking into the shelf. I winced as my elbow connected to the wood and some of the books jostled together. The woman standing behind me was beautiful, dark hair falling around her shoulders and some pinned back in intricate braids. Her brown eyes were warm as she looked on with a slight smile, a white sundress falling to her feet. There was a grace and light that emanated from her, ease and comfort surrounding her like a well loved blanket. I smiled, laughing nervously, and clung to the book in my hands. “Uh, yeah, I was hoping they had this copy. I was needing it for a friend,” I replied, tongue explaining without even thinking. She smiled and nodded, hands clasped in front of her and looking at the title I held, “That is an old one, but a beautiful collection.” I wasn’t sure why I was nervous. Words tumbled from my lips unbidden and I couldn’t help smiling, a little bashful, “I read it a long time ago when I was trying to get a story sorted out, but I think I just ended up devouring the stories instead. I love old folk tales.” In truth, I’d read it all over and over again until Aiden had tossed it in the trash. I had become distracted from him and like most things I loved, he got rid of it. Her brown eyes lit up and a tinge of amusement danced along her lips, “Oh you’re a writer?” I chewed on my lip, shrugging, “Sort of. Nothing published or really finished, more like I write in my past time.” My past time which had been dwindling over the past year, now relegated to when I would spend time in the library with Lucienne or the few times I was alone at home, “I work at the book publisher a few blocks away! It was the closest I could get to working with stories outside of writing and reading them.” That amusement on her face grew but there was a hint of bitterness at its edge. I wasn’t sure why I was telling her this, almost as if it were unbidden. One of my hands went to fiddle with the black stone necklace, the obsidian cool under my fingers. I watched her eyes follow the movement and fixate, her brow furrowing. “A writer and a lover of stories,” she sighed almost sadly even while slightly smiling, warm brown eyes flickering up to meet mine once more, “I could see why Oneiros would take an interest in you.” The name clanged through me, harsh and sharp, severing the connection between us. Almost as if the temperature had dropped, it was instantly colder and I could feel the slight tingling of Dream’s power emanating from the stone necklace. Oneiros, another of Morpheus’ names. My fingers tightened around the book. I was on guard immediately and shut myself off, face becoming stony, “It was nice talking to you but I have somewhere I need to be.” Before she could reply, I took the book and almost walked out of the store, stopping briefly to remember where I was. The cashier didn’t comment on the fact I was shaking, quickly ringing me up and completing my purchase, and then I was pushing the door open to leave the small bookshop with the book shoved into my bag. I was alert, flight or fight running through me. Normal people didn’t know about Morpheus. She couldn’t be human, could be any manner of thing. And I wasn’t about to stick around to find out if she meant to hurt me, maybe even use me against him. Morpheus’ paranoia was rubbing off on me. Dream’s necklace was clutched in my fingers and I wondered if he could feel the sharp tick in my anxiety, glancing up to see if I could spot Matthew anywhere. I wasn’t sure exactly how his connection to the jewel worked, only that it would lead him to me in case of emergencies. Another of his precautions. The door chimed behind me and footsteps raced before a gentle hand grabbed my arm. I whirled and backed up, breaking contact and instantly defensive. The woman held her hands up, face apologetic and beseeching, “I mean you no harm! I did not wish to frighten you at all, I had simply wished to speak with you.” Her voice was gentle, pleading, and there was a calming effect to it that I tried to shake off. It could be natural but could also be magic. I didn’t relax, eyes wide. Even in the brightness of the dying sun with other people around, I was fully on my guard, “You mentioned Dream, you know him.” She let out a huff, half a laugh and half a sigh, while slightly lowering her hands, “Yes, I do know him. I would have said rather well, but I’m afraid not quite so much anymore. My name is Calliope. Do you know who I am?” The world tilted. My breath caught and eyes widened, heart thumping rapidly in my chest. Did I know who she was? Yes, I did. Her name had rattled in my brain for an entire night while I sat in Morpheus’ empty chambers, waiting for him. Wondering what he was doing, running off to his ex-wife, leaving me without even a word. His former lover and wife. The mother of his child. A muse, a goddess. It all fit now that I was looking at her with fresh eyes. She was beautiful, a hint of etherealness underneath her rich tanned skin, with an elegant face and regal-ness. Even in more modern clothing, it fit her and didn’t hide the classic look of her. The calming nature of her made sense. I could only whisper out a reply, eyes quickly cataloging everything about her all the while finding myself lacking, “Yes, I know of you.” Morpheus had loved her once, loved her long enough to marry her and then father a child with her. We had never broached the topic again after our last blow out concerning her, when he’d disappeared to help her, so I wasn’t sure how they had fallen apart, how their marriage had crumbled. I knew it had to deal with their son but that was a dangerous topic and I never brought it up again. But looking at her, I could see why he had been with her. There was tenderness, compassion alongside her beauty, but confidence and a hint of defiance in her eyes. A muse and the Prince of Stories. It was fitting. More fitting than a human and King of Dreams. Her lips pressed together and she tried to smile at me but it was a bit sad and sympathetic, “This is a bit of a mess, is it not? I am sorry. I had heard of you- of both of you and…was curious as to who had attracted his attention. I truly only wished to talk.” She was pleading, hands open as if to show she truly meant no harm. I chewed on my lip, feeling small and awkward in front of her, as I processed her words. She had heard of us which meant word had spread beyond the Dreaming and the Endless. Otherworldly beings turned out to be huge gossips and I was finding myself at the center of that. I knew that would upset Morpheus, either because people were intruding on his personal business or because it meant people knew he was with a human. I wasn’t sure and didn’t know if I wanted to find out which. In all honesty, I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. This woman did nothing to me beyond spark jealousy and insecurity but that wasn’t her fault. I knew she had been in trouble, imprisoned against her will for years until Morpheus had at last saved her. Sympathy and jealousy warred until all that was less was awkwardness. “I’m Dahlia. I…don’t really know what to say to you. This isn’t exactly a normal occurrence for me,” I mumbled and almost hugged myself if only to feel some semblance of grounding. “Meeting a former lover of Dream’s?” Calliope offered with a slight smile. I shrugged, “More like meeting a goddess but that too.” We both sort of laughed under our breaths, the tension easing a bit. Sighing, I looked up at her from under my lashes and chewed on my already raw lip, “He didn’t tell me exactly what you went through but…I’m sorry, either way. I’m glad he helped free you.” A shadow passed behind her eyes and she briefly looked down, swallowing visibly, before offering a solemn smile, “It is unnecessary but thank you. I did not believe he would come, that he would help. But he has changed. I can see that now.” “How so?” I asked. I kept hearing over and over that he had changed, but this was the only version of him I ever knew. Everything I’d been told so far had been so different from the man I’d come to be with. She looked me over then looked around us, people walking past on their way home along the sidewalks, “May I walk with you?” In the back of my mind, I reminded myself Hob and Dream would both be at my apartment soon so maybe heading that way wasn’t a bad idea. I could only hope he wasn’t near and didn’t see Calliope. If he was mad at Delirium and Death for being around me, I wasn’t sure how he’d react to his ex wife talking to me. I nodded and she stepped forward, falling into step at my side as we started to walk down the street. “He is no longer the man I once married,” the goddess began, eyes distant, “When he pursues you, he is fire and overwhelming. Almost suffocating with how much he loves, but once that fades, once it all settles, he could be so cold, so strict. It’s a miracle we stayed together as long as we did. Now there is almost a…gentleness to him. Oneiros is not as hard as he used to be. Maybe not as cruel.” Cruel. This wasn’t the first time I had heard that description of him. It’d been said about Alianora. He was fire, bright and burning and all consuming. While I’d been told in the past he would hardly touch anyone, didn’t seem to like it himself and wouldn’t permit it, he almost seemed desperate for contact now. He was always touching me in some form or fashion, even if it was only a simple brush against my side. I couldn’t see this Morpheus she was describing, but then again she was speaking of love. We weren’t like that. Either way, this was probably my only chance to learn more about their relationship. I was learning a lot about Dream’s previous lovers, most likely learning more than I should, and a part of me said that sometimes knowing too much would only hurt. Another part though couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the comparisons or learning how he may one day leave or hurt me, learning the differences. Maybe it was the broken, leftover parts of my previous relationship that made me want to prepare for the worst instead of enjoying what I had. Like I was bracing for impact. But I couldn’t stop it. Fear had a hold of me and said to prepare because he would leave one day like he did with all the rest. Each step felt like it weighed a ton, but I kept walking, glancing at her from the side of my eyes, “But you did stay together for quite a while. I’m sorry if this is intrusive. He just never talks about…anything.” Calliope smiled, almost knowing, letting me guide the direction we walked, “No, he doesn’t. Sharing parts of himself was never something he did. But it’s fine, I understand wanting to know and I don’t mind.” She took a deep breath, breathing in the cooling air of dusk, “We did once love each other, but I wished to keep my life even while we were together. It made each meeting more special in my mind and I did not wish to live in the Dreaming. I lived in the Waking world with my sisters and he stayed in his realm. But once the passion faded, I think the distance became a wedge.” “Oneiros traps himself in his rules and routines and work, desperately clinging to them while also desperate to break from them. I think in the beginning I was a distraction from that work, a distraction from the Dreaming. I tried to be considerate of his responsibilities, was obedient and caring as a good wife is, but it was not enough. I think he became bored of it all, of our domestic life. He slowly stopped visiting and I had to go to him if I wished to see him.” “Wait, weren’t you Queen? Of the Dreaming?” I asked tentatively. I wasn’t sure if that was even a thing, but the fact she stayed outside of the Dream even while married was odd to me. I couldn’t imagine not being a part of the realm while with him. The place was magic and I knew Morpheus loved sharing it. But I wasn’t a goddess and I was sure she had things to do besides being his wife. Calliope shook her head and lifted her head, taking in the dying sun, “No, I was merely his consort. I had my own responsibilities as a muse and let him handle the Dreaming but back then he was less willing to share. Whether it was the realm or himself. It was his burden to bear and only his. Maybe it was partially my fault for not becoming more a part of his life, the distance, not pushing. It wasn’t our way back then to push, even as his wife. I was there to help and serve him.” The thought rankled me, bitter in my mouth. I knew how that was. More a maid and less a partner, there to help and be a decoration. I didn’t see her as being obedient but times change. Even the person I was a few years ago was so different from who I was now. She looked at me as if she knew the comment had annoyed me and smiled. The streets were clearing out as dusk fully settled in. We were walking slowly, taking our time while still headed for my home. One by one, street lamps turned on and we savored the low lights and warmth of the breeze. Sighing, the muse fiddled with her fingers, brown hair cascading over her shoulders, “I had thought perhaps a baby could repair the strain. It was my wifely duty but I wanted something that was both of ours. And for a time, it did. He was a wonderful father, but the distance only grew until it became a chasm.” “I-” the words stuck in my throat, choking, but I pushed on, “He doesn’t talk about your child and I’d prefer if when he does tell me about him, it’s on his terms. If that’s okay?” Calliope paused and the sadness was apparent even in the dim lighting. There was pain there, bright and sparkling as if whatever had happened was fresh. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. If their son had died or something worse had happened. Morpheus didn’t speak of him at all and I could see in her face that whatever had befallen the boy, it hadn’t been good. I didn’t want to learn second-hand. It was too big, too important. I’d wait for him to tell it when he was ready, if he’d ever be ready. And so she nodded, “Of course. It is…difficult for both of us. But it should be something he tells you himself.” We were getting closer to the area of my apartment, but I wasn’t feeling as anxious anymore. Her presence was nice, reassuring even if an air of sadness hung around her, “I must not quite be what you expected. I’m so very human.” She smiled, eyes brightening, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. Being human is wonderful, but yes I am a bit surprised. I wasn’t expecting him to be with a mortal given-” The muse seemed to cut herself off, looking unsure and hesitant. I raised a brow, confusion coloring my eyes, and she ducked her face away before shaking off the look, “Given who he is. But he has changed so much, even if he doesn’t believe so. Even if I didn’t believe he could. Have you met his family yet?” The change in topic was obvious. There was something there she had wanted to say but stopped herself. It kicked up my anxiety but I didn’t know her well enough to push and let it slide, going along with it, “I met Delirium and Death very briefly, but that’s been it. It was more accidental so nothing formal, but they were nice.” She smiled tightly at the older Endless’ name, nodding, “I was never very close to them. They kept their distance for the most part but were a part of my son’s life. They are…strange. For a long time I blamed them, and maybe Oneiros as well, for the things that went wrong. Their involvement in our lives and the way they acted. Even their help can hurt. But it is their nature to be as they are and they can never truly change from their function. I would keep that in mind for the future.” The warning was clear and my brow furrowed, not sure exactly what had happened with her and the family. I knew some things about how they were. Desire and Dream seemed to butt heads the most, bad blood flowing between them, Despair usually getting dragged into it being Desire’s twin. Death was his favorite and who he was closest to. Delirium was spoken less of as well as Destiny and then Destruction…he had only been mentioned once and bitterness had coated his name. I wasn’t sure what had been done, but they were a dysfunctional bunch. But weren’t all families?

I wasn’t sure. It’d been so long since I had one. The sky was dark as we came closer to the apartment, the air cool on my skin. I was probably late and even if Hob knew where the spare key was, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was blowing up my phone. But it was in my bag, tucked away while we walked. Sighing, I looked at Calliope at my side and the way the light illuminated her features. The insecurity was at an all time high, and had increased since learning of her because standing next to the goddess I couldn’t help but feel lesser. I opened my mouth and asked softly, “Do you still-” “Lia?” The name is a stab, sharp and quick, and my body almost jerked as the sound reached me. I whirled around quickly, looking at the dark street behind me and seeing nothing. Lia, no one called me that. No one was allowed to call me that, not in the years since I’d gotten free. My breathing was quick and shallow as I combed through the area with my eyes, Calliope’s  questioning voice muffled under the high pitched whirring in my head. I couldn’t see anything but knew I had heard it. Maybe it was a stranger talking to another, the name bouncing to hit me unintentionally. A hallucination. My therapist had once said that could happen. Swallowing hard, I turned back to Calliope and could see the concern bright on her face, “Are you okay-” The question had just finished when a hand gripped my arm and I was jerked back roughly, another going around my waist and pulling. My brain went into a scrambled panic, her fearful eyes burned into it as I was dragged back and back into the darkness. I could only register her yelling my name, the painful grip of my arm and the sound of my shoes scraping against concrete as I was pulled roughly into a side alley not far from where we stood. The hands shifted and then I was pushed backward, my back hitting brick and head roughly bouncing off the wall with a sharp crack. Pain flared, hot and bright, and white flashed over my vision for a second. It all was happening so fast and I couldn’t get my bearings, couldn’t breathe or process. But then he was there, standing before me like a nightmare made real. Aiden. He was pressed up close, arms barricading me to the wall, but I could still see him clearly. This wasn’t a dream or nightmare or memory. No, those were images frozen in time from years past. He’d changed. His hair was longer, a mess of stringy dark hair falling around his ears and he had a thick coating of hair along his jaw. Dark circles lined his green eyes, puffy and worn, the skin of his face chapped and like leather. While he had been thin with a bit of muscle, now he was bigger, more filled out but strong. His shirt was ragged and torn along the collar, stains along the fabric. No, this was him in flesh. Older and rougher and so angry as he pressed down against me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see clearly, eyes locked onto his and the darkness there, “Aiden?” Calliope was calling my name from a distance but I couldn’t process it, could only see the hatred and malice in my ex’s face, “Do you know how long it took me to find you, Lia? Did you really think you could ruin my life and leave like you did?” His voice cut through me like an echo through time. So familiar, stripping the years of my freedom down and away from me. Tangible, he was tangible and in front of me and his presence hurt so much more than the nightmare of him had. Fear pulsed through my body like ice sliding along my bones. “I didn’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stuttered, pain still radiating from the back of my skull, “Let me go.” I was twenty four again, standing in that dirty apartment and begging him not to hurt me. I was twenty, clinging to him and pleading to stop being angry. I was seventeen and alone, thinking he was the only person I had left even as he screamed in my face. This wasn’t a nightmare I could pull myself out of or Morpheus could save me from. He was here, standing before me, and I was stupid to think I’d ever be free. “You didn’t tell anyone about what happened, right?,” Aiden mocked and hissed in my face, spit raining onto me, “You fucking liar. Someone sure as hell reported it. I got arrested for attempted murder because they said I stabbed you and even if you didn’t show up, they had evidence connecting me to some other bullshit. Five years, Lia. They locked me up for five years because of you.” A small part of my brain said five years wasn’t enough. Morpheus had been locked away for over a century for doing nothing wrong. Aiden got off easy. But I was shaking, trying to make myself small and sink into the bricks at my back and he was so close and his breath stank of alcohol and rancid meat and I wanted to disappear, “I didn’t, I swear -” “Shut the fuck up,” he yelled into my face and tears unwittingly slid down my cheeks, my body seizing in fear. The urge to beg, to apologize, to try and coax him down was there inside like an old cat crawling from the darkness and I pushed it away. That wasn’t me but I wasn’t even sure who I was. “You left and suddenly I got put away and you think that’s what? A coincidence? And you think you can simply move on and have a happy little life?” The words were mocking and my nails scraped against the brick as I tried to keep myself from sinking into a ball. There was some strength left in me, some part of who I was now after leaving that reared its head forward and forced myself to plant my feet in the ground. I tried to get me to breathe, to swallow the fear and set it aside, to remember all I had accomplished while pushing out the words, “I left because you were hurting me. I didn’t report anything.” His face twisted in anger but he didn’t have the chance to do anything. With a sharp cry Calliope shoved into him, trying to force him off me. Her shoulder rammed into his and he stumbled back a few steps from the effort. But he was so much bigger than us, stronger now. She managed to put distance between us, pushing and clawing while screaming for me to run. There was no time though and he grabbed her shoulder and easily tossed her across the alley, body skittering over the disgusting floor. I watched her roll across the ground, that beautiful white dress now covered in dirt and felt bile in my throat. He had most likely forgotten about her or hadn’t cared if she was there, but she wasn’t nearly as scared as I was. Her face twisted in fury even from the floor, brown eyes dark with anger, as she shouted at him, “Leave her be!” Aiden smirked and advanced on her, all menace and cruelty in his eyes, “She’s mine, I can do what I want.” I could see it then, in his steps as he walked closer to the goddess, that he’d hurt her. There was no hitting him and getting away with it. There was always punishment but Calliope had already been through so much. She’d been caged and tormented and then thought to seek me out, not out of jealousy but some sort of common thread. I couldn’t let more happen to her, couldn’t let her be dragged into my mess. My head screamed at me but I launched myself forward at Aiden. There was no plan, no reason, only one thought pulsed through my head and that was to get his attention off Calliope. He could direct his anger at me, I could take it. I’d taken it before for years and years, knew the brutality of it. But she didn’t deserve to be hurt, especially not because of me. I tried to leap onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and nails sinking in. It was a clumsy attempt but I managed, putting all my strength into pulling him backwards. Back and back and away from her, scratching and clawing and trying to bring him down. I think I screamed at Calliope to run, to leave, but couldn’t remember doing so. Skin tore under my nails and Aiden hissed. He growled and tried to grip my wrists, stumbling and turning as I dangled from his back. In one quick move he rammed us both against the wall, my breath leaving me in a single exhale as my back impacted with all his weight against me. My lungs were on fire, desperately trying to refill as all the air left me and I dropped to the ground hard and wheezed. I wasn’t a fighter, had never been strong, but I had tried. He kneeled and then his hands were on my neck, squeezing and squeezing while I kicked and flailed. The darkness encased us, the lamps not reaching where we were in the alley and hiding him thoroughly. I would die by his hand in the end, like I had always believed. For so long I thought he couldn’t do worse but he’d always proved me wrong. This was always going to be end game. Maybe there really was no escape. My hands clawed at his wrists while pain blossomed from my throat, air unable to choke through his grip. I kicked and bucked but he was so heavy on me, unmovable. One of my fingers had hooked into my necklace and it tangled in my fingers while I scratched at Aiden’s arms. I couldn’t leave like this, on a dirty alley floor so close to home while Dream and Hob waited for me. Would Dream know when I died? Would Death come to me first or would she tell her brother? Would I even get to say goodbye? Tears leaked down my cheeks while my lungs burned. Stars and colors danced in my vision and in the haze…I thought I could see a door. Almost like in the Dreaming, it stood in the middle of the alley, plain but luring. Waiting. It was fuzzy along the edges, flickering slightly with the pain and colors, but it was there. I gasped whatever little air I had, whispering out a single word like a plea. “Morpheus.” The word was strained, broken, lost in Calliope’s cries as she tried to get up and to me. But it left my lips, painted my tongue. My dreamlord. The door vanished as darkness began to creep in. Then there was lightning along my skin. It crackled and split the air even while the darkness pulsed and writhed like a living thing. The hands were gone from my throat, air rushing back in as the body above me was jerked away. Aiden was thrown brutally to the ground a few feet away and his body audibly bounced off the floor from the force of the impact. I gasped in the air desperately and touched the tender skin of my throat, coughing through the burn.

Hands -different hands, fingers long and thin, touched the skin of my neck and I blinked up into Dream’s starlit eyes as he softly urged me to breathe. His power coasted along my skin, gentle and soothing, and I knew he was holding it back from me. He was angry, furious, but kept that away from me. He cupped a hand against my check, forehead pressed to mine, and slowly helped me sit up, his skin cool against my heated skin. It was like trying to swallow nails, my throat painful and raw. I was crying, clinging to him, as he righted me against the wall. “You- you’re….here,” I stuttered out with a wince, the words dragging from my lips like sharp edged glass. “I am,” Dream whispered, sorrow and pain and rage lining his voice. He brushed the hair back from my face, from my neck, and seemed to be inspecting the damage. His rage grew. Aiden shifted not far from us, orienting himself on the ground, clumsily trying to sit up. Like an angry storm cloud made of nightmares and power, Morpheus stood and moved before him with a look so furious I couldn’t believe the man was alive. There was no solid edge to him, his cloak merging and shifting with the shadows around his, eyes pure black and stars red. His skin glowed in the darkness and he was purely Dream of the Endless, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms in that moment. Aiden groaned and blinked, trying to scramble to his feet in front of the dreamlord. The impact had hurt but he wasn’t fragile, could no doubt take the blow. But I could see the fear in his eyes, creasing in his brow as he took in the being before him. The Nightmare King slowly advanced and the air was thick with his power building, each step a warning bell. He was fear made flesh, darkness and the things hiding under your bed made real. And his eyes were solely on Aiden now, fingers clenching at his side. Calliope’s voice rang out, closer now, slightly pained, “Oneiros, stop! You cannot kill him!” His head quirked ever so slightly as he registered her voice, making him pause. The shadows slid along the ground and twisted in the air like a cat’s tail angrily flicking in distaste. Aiden took the opportunity to get to his feet, eyes glued to the Endless being in front, but some semblance of self coming back. He was evaluating the situation, taking in the distance to the end of the alley, to me, to Morpheus. I wheezed and attempted to climb to my feet, stumbling forward, knees pressed into the dirty concrete. I was so weak. I couldn’t do anything. Dream started to advance again and stopped almost like he was fighting with himself. Calliope was close now and the dim light reflected off her white gown enough that I could make out her form. She was taking him in, taking in the rage and Aiden before him, and yelled out, “He is not a threat to your realm, you cannot take his life! You cannot break the rule!” Aiden’s confidence was building at the words, his eyes swiveling to find mine briefly. Even when faced with something like the Dream King he still thought he had a chance and could win out in the end. I could see it, the confidence growing in his stance. “There are worse things than Death,” Morpheus growled and looked back at the goddess. The move was a mistake maybe. I could see it in Aiden’s stance like a memory. I could always read his body language, had committed it to memory to know when he’d strike, when he was buying time, when he was lingering in the hopes to draw out the anticipation. Maybe he’d run. Morpheus wouldn’t abandon me to chase after him, wouldn’t leave me. In the few seconds I had my eyes flicked to the ground and I could almost feel time pause. Not far from my scraped knees within grabbing distance were a stray plank of wood and a chipped, broken brick. Even in the scramble of the moment Delirium’s words echoed back clearly. “Oh we can ask if bricks or planks would be better!” It couldn’t be a coincidence. It had been a small offhand comment in her ramblings, but what were the odds? Yet everything clicked into place as I watched the turn of Morpheus’ head, the shifting in Aiden’s feet, the slight lifting of his lips into a smirk. He’d get away and would forever haunt me, would continue to lurk in the darkness. Escaping hadn’t been enough to be free of him. The world was an echo chamber. Silent. We were frozen in place as if time had fallen still and then in a blink everything was moving so fast. And like watching a movie, disassociated from the action, I watched as I picked up the brick and threw myself forward. I swung, it connected. Aiden’s head jerked and I could hear a crunch. I watched separately from my body almost as momentum carried me forward and I was stumbling, but not fully down. The man was bleeding, disoriented, and I swung again though the blow had less power. I swung again and again and a body hit the ground. I wasn’t sure if it was his or mine but then the brick was wrenched away and arms wrapped around me even as I kicked and screamed and cried. I was a wild animal, howling and snarling and pleading to let me finish it. It wasn’t happening to me, it was happening to her. The broken girl who thought she had survived her abuser. I watched as the dreamlord solidified and wrapped the shadows around her, muffling her sobs as he set her down on the floor against the wall. Tears and blood poured down her face and her neck was ringed in purple and red, breath coming out in gasping pants. Hyperventilating. Calliope was rushing over, crawling along the ground under she was at the broken girl’s side calmly urging the girl to breathe. She was having a panic attack and couldn’t be soothed. I was having a panic attack? I thought I could feel my lungs constrict and air try to push in and out but it was all muffled and numb. I was in my body and not, feeling everything and feeling nothing. Existing but watching from the outside. It couldn’t be me, couldn’t be me crumpled on the ground like a broken doll. But even so, she looked like me, had Morpheus’ attention as he combed back her hair and whispered that he was there and it was okay and I needed to breathe. In the distance, I thought I heard a raven’s cry. I could hear their words like they were in my ear. Dream hissed angrily at the goddess, “What are you doing here with her?” and I tried to force my hands to move, to grasp onto him and get his attention. I didn’t want him to be angry at her, I couldn't allow it.

Sobs poured from my lips, hindering the air trying to get in, and with a scratchy voice I attempted to beg him not to be angry. I watched myself do it and felt it too. She had tried to save me. Perhaps had saved me if I had been alone. None of it was her fault. “I promise, we were only speaking. I did not know this would happen,” Calliope tried to explain, her hand clenching mine tightly to ground me, “Is your sister coming?” He turned from her and focused solely on me, black pits having slid back to human icy blue. He didn’t answer. The tight fist in my chest was starting to ease, whether it be time or the soothing touch of Morpheus’ fingers in my hair or Calliope gripping my hand. Breathing became easier if not still painful and I slid back into my own skin. Everything hurt and my brain felt like jello, sloshing around my skull. I think there was blood soaking the back of my head. I tightened my fingers around Calliope and she forced a soft smile at me, “You are okay. He won’t hurt you any longer. You are safe.” She turned to the Endless at her side, both of them hovering over me and smiled sadly, “Take care of her, Oneiros. She needs you now.” His lips turned down and he nodded, but he didn’t meet her gaze. The anger aimed at her lessened, disappearing from the furrow of his brow. The muse moved to stand up but I gripped her hand, swallowing through my pain and tears, “Calliope.” She froze, eyes soft, and I continued, “Thank you.” I don’t remember her reply. The world shifted and turned, darkness blanketing me. I felt like a gravity sinkhole, weightless while also being too heavy. I think I passed out but at the same time, I remembered bits and pieces of what was happening around me. Arms lifting me up, tucking me close, as we climbed a set of stairs. The chest against my cheek emanated warm power, my necklace echoing it back. Hob’s panicked voice as fingers poked at a painful spot on my head. Him shushing and consoling, “darling” and “sweetheart” whispered into my ear and coated in pain and heartbreak. Water, cool and shocking, running through my hair as calloused fingers tried to untangle the matted blood. Morpheus’ own hands brushing the water or tears from my cheeks as he did so. I was held between them, cradled almost. Dream and Hob’s voices going back and forth, tense but resolute. Words like “done it before” and “take care of it” and “for her” stuck in my head before the door shut with a loud bang. Lips pressed against my forehead. The immortal man urging me to focus on him and stay awake, arms wrapped around my small frame and holding me to his chest as he sprawled us out on the couch. Morpheus wasn’t there, his absence noticeable. He talked and talked, voice wavering underneath the false cheer. Hob was gone and I was wrapped in shadows, warm and protective while long fingers skimmed over the bruises on my neck. I think we were on the bed, my cheek pressed against Dream’s chest and his cloak spilling around us like ink. Or blood. Any attempts at holding a normal form in the Waking were gone and I was wrapped in the King of Dream’s arms. His lips were against my temple and I could feel how he wished to hold me tight but was afraid it would hurt me. Could feel him holding back but was unable to stop touching, assuring both of us that we were safe and whole. In the twilight, he whispered that I was okay. That he was sorry for not being there sooner. His words were soft promises in the shadows of the room, pledges, and he told me how important I was, how he would never leave me, and that no one would ever touch me again. I’m not sure if he knew I was conscious, if the words were for my ears or for himself. But they lingered in the air nonetheless. Then I fell into darkness.

[ladylynse]

Working on Down the Rabbit Hole again and cut a piece out of this next chapter that would make this whole thing Ghost King AU on the DP side but more specifically what I established in Interwoven because it’s fun to hint at other stories I’ve written, so uh.... We’ll see if that conversation stays in the scrap file or if it makes its way back in somewhere.

[seagull-scribbles]

From Chapter One of On Mistakes and Birthdaycake by @bemmiecake on AO3

I started reading this fic when it first came out and it’s had such a huge impact on how I think of knuckles and you have definitely seen it’s influence in my art this past year! So it only seemed fair to try do something for the fic itself x

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Fast Car

It's a strange thing, having real friends. Jordan was an expert at finding a posse - people to spend free periods with, a way to ensure they didn't feel like a complete loner all the time.

But that isn't the same thing as having friends. That's not to say that they were entirely callous before college. It's just that they didn't ever let their guard down. They didn't know if they knew how to if they were honest. And then they met Luke.

Well, to be fair, it was a group project. Knowing what they knew now, they wouldn't be surprised if Brink had put the three of them together on purpose, another one of his strange social experiments. It didn't do to speculate on the intentions of the dead.

But they couldn't help themself. And it wasn't just Brink.

Luke. The perfect golden boy. The son their parents would have killed to have. And yet he wanted to be Jordan's friend? It really was a suitable name for him - he could smile at you and make you feel like the actual sun was shining on you and you alone.

They would never forget the first time they saw Luke cry. It was just a few moments but it made their heart twist and ache. It made them wish they could have grown up together. That they could have iced his burns, dried his tears, and stood by him.

Maybe then, they could have actually talked him down. Maybe if they had been a better friend, they wouldn't have had to fight their friend. One of the few real friends they had.

A few months into sophomore year, just as Luke, Andre, Cate, and Jordan were becoming close, Luke took them in his fancy car on 'an adventure.' You would think that their favorite part would have been the drive - and it almost was. Going way too fast, they almost felt drunk, holding onto for dear life. They took turns driving down this deserted road. They parked on top of a grassy hill overlooking a suburb near GodU. The stars were so bright, they could see the galaxy itself.

They walked, they talked, they laughed. Andre danced to nothing. It wasn't the first time they smoked weed, but it was the best joint they ever smoked. There were wildflowers on the hill - tiny daisies. Cate had started putting them in Jordan's hair, saying she wanted to put the stars in their hair. Jordan had never felt so beautiful in their life, not even when they were trying on that stunning black gown for prom in junior year.

It was the first time they saw a friend cry and cried with them without fear. It was the first time they looked into their friends eyes and felt really seen.

There was a moment. A brief moment as they sat on top of this grassy hill, watching the stars, and Luke put his arm around their shoulders, and Cate leaned her head on their shoulder, and Andre was holding Luke, and if Jordan hadn't lived it they would say it sounds like something out of a coming-of-age movie. They hadn't understood why people cuddled with their friends until that moment.

Your arm felt nice wrapped round my shoulder. And I had a feeling that I belonged. And I had a feeling I could be someone.

And then it was gone. The moment was gone. Then their friends were gone. Barely a year later and they are sitting in a room with no doors, and the magic is gone. They fought one friend until he committed suicide. And then they watched as the other two destroyed themselves and each other and them and all they want anymore is for everything to go back to that moment on the hill.

What could they do differently to prevent this from happening? If they had only been braver, if they had only been smarter, if they had only been stronger... maybe then their friends wouldn't be gone.

[syciaralynx]

I have about 2 hours of free time before I need to get sleeby for my early shift tomorrow.

And I'm thinkin the vibes are pointing towards working on a bit of BITW.......

I've been playing out scenes from this chapter in my head all day, and man, God!Zuko is sure something, huh?

[findafight]

Reading a fic where Robin and Steve are not completely on each other's sides against other people 100% always: you don't get them like I do.

[wangxianficrecs]

Grief and Blame, Interwoven by donutsweeper

Grief and Blame, Interwoven

by donutsweeper

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary: Wangji's punishment was supposed to be severe, not fatal. But since it was, Xichen needed to find a way to change that.

Kay's comments: You know how often in time-travel stories, no matter who time-travels, suddenly they are the smartest person and manage to solve every single problem and save every single life that had been lost? Yeah, so this is the opposite of that and I absolutely love that. There's just something very satisfying in watching Lan Xichen fail every now and then. Here, Lan Wangji dies after his whipping and Lan Xichen decides to travel back to the Cloud Recesses lecture days and discourge the friendship between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. Unfortunately, this doesn't work out the way he had planned…

Excerpt: Xichen had realized that, in a way, it was all his fault. After all, he had been the one to foolishly encourage the friendship between Wei Wuxian and Wangji in the first place, thinking he was doing Wangji a favor by accepting Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin's help and inviting them along to exterminate the water ghouls that had been infesting Biling Lake. He'd thought he could help Wangji make friends, little had he known he was pushing Wangji towards the one who would cause his downfall. So, once he and Lan Qiren had everything prepared, he activated the first array and cleared his mind, focused on that moment. That summer in the Cloud Recesses, the last one before the war.

major character death, canon-divergence, pov lan xichen, dead lan wangji, time-travel, not a fix-it, discipline whip, dark, angst, butterfly effect, cloud recesses study arc, ambiguous/open ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[goldenworldsabound]

OKAY so anyway that aside I also forgot to mention my husband and I will be starting to watch Star Trek Discovery.

Many of you are new here and will not know that Spock is the OG fave for me. TOS Spock specifically. When I self shipped in high school (I wrote so. much. fic. in my diary. loved that for me, helped me cope so good) it was Spock and Spock only. Everyone in my life knew I was obsessed with him. And you know what? I knew SO MUCH about TOS. Grown ass men tried to gatekeep my high school self and got fucking schooled by me. I knew everything there was to know about Vulcan.

I don't, anymore. It's been some time. But Spock still holds the SPECIALEST place in my heart even though I haven't talked about him much later. I did revamp our ship a few years ago - or rather, made a new version since I'm too attached to the original but wanted something more...mm...more like how I make my ships now, I guess? The original one was a straight isekai - due to time travel shenanigans I end up on the Enterprise and Spock and I fall in love (I knew it was him though like there was still Star Trek on TV and all that so fdksjahf). It was really helpful to me at the time and honestly it could fully happen with how TOS tends to be. Time travel is par for the course KJFHEWKFHW that one was "Love is Fascinating".

The new one is "Across Time and Space" and also came with me shipping with Kirk as well ("Solar Flare Love") and naturally the poly (cause how can you be a fan of TOS and not ship Spirk (I'm joking but like also it's truly iconic and important for popularizing slash fic)) which is "Interwoven Stars".

And that one I am QUITE proud of what I came up with. Beneath the cut.

In the new lore, Spock and I grow up together on Vulcan. We're really close. I'm not a Vulcan - I wasn't born there, and I've lived on a multitude of planets since they've moved for their jobs a lot. I'm a human. But we stay on Vulcan the longest of any of them. Spock and I, accidentally and unbeknownst to us, sort of form a childish and ill-formed Bond. A telepathic one, as Vulcans do. We don't realize this and no one else does either.

Eventually, I have to move away. It sucks. No one liked that.

Somewhere along the way, something goes super wrong during our travels. My parents die and I'm cryogenically frozen for several years. I'm eventually rescued and revived but...well my family is dead now. Oops.

I go into Starfleet, several years behind Spock.

Which puts us in this position that my first assignment is the Enterprise. And Spock is the Enterprise's Science Officer. And I am reporting directly to him.

We recognize each other!!! It's exciting.

Unfortunately. Spock has realized that we have this awkward incomplete bond. And once we've taken off he determines that, well, he's engaged, so, he's gotta break this off. And he does. And omg it fucking hurts. For both of us. Our minds have been in contact for so long. He's always been with me even if I didn't realize it. So I'm. Upset.

There's a shore leave right then (which is why he waited until then to do it) and I go to that and am Hella Depressed and LO AND BEHOLD Kirk and Bones are like ? We're adopting you as our friend now. You WILL have fun and that IS a threat.

So now I'm besties with the CAPTAIN and the doctor. And Bones and I bond real fucking fast I tell you fkjdhsakjf Kirk thinks I'm cute but like he's well aware of the power dynamic so he's not trying to make a move.

Anyway I don't tell either of them what happened.

Over time I think it just becomes apparent that Spock and I have feelings for each other/are awkward, and Bones gets on me about it like, "you and the green-blooded hobgoblin should just get together already" and I brush him off a bunch until I finally snap about how we can't cause he's engaged. He's very sympathetic after that.

Kirk and I are also somewhat awkwardly on and off trying out dating (with an open relationship) which is like. I like him!!! He likes me!!! But we also both like Spock and it's just...tense and awkward at times?

the whole Pon Farr thing will happen and then Spock is free to...to choose me fkjdhsakjfhdsak and we'll rebond and stuff. And Kirk is like, "congrats" all awkwardly thinking he's out of the picture now. But Spock and I will invite him into our relationship after some time of getting to know each other again!!!

so yeah that was a lot fkjsadhfkjds but that's the basic premise. I love Spock a lot-

[transboykirito]

my birthday is tomorrow which means you all have to leave me nice comments on my fics

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Just thought about how Tildy/Peter could act as a narrative mirror for sketchbook. I need to sit down.

[peninkwrites]

3 and 20 for the wrapped ask game?

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

why is this already hard lmao. I'm torn between Wake Up. just because it was such a huge undertaking and I finally finished it, and honestly that Quackity art piece/prose I made recently just because I'd never done anything like that before! I don't consider myself to be an artist so making that and actually liking how it came out was a very nice feeling ^-^

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Oh this is hard. I reread my own works perhaps too often, and sadly ao3 does not track your own works in your history, so I'd just have to guess, um. I tend to reread chapters as I get comments on them, so Wake Up I've reread chapters of quite a bit! That, or Karl and Quackity (don't) Date, just because out of the mafia au that one has the clearest focus.

[ohraicodoll]

Sandman Masterlist

Sandman Series

Fragments | AO3 (6 Works) | Not Complete Sandman Netflix/Sandman Comics Relationship: Dream of the Endless x Original Female Character/Reader 18+, Minors DNI, 1st POV

Works:

Figment | Story Tag   7 Chapters | Mature Content (18+ Minors DNI) |

AO3 | Complete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

She had only been able to enter other's dreams two years ago, but she knew the rules. Don't interfere with the dream. Don't create anything in another's dream. Don't destroy anything in another's dream. But then she stupidly broke one of those rules and the Lord of Dreams does not take kindly to others messing with his domain

Touch Starved | One- Shot | Explicit Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 | Complete Asking Morpheus to do anything productive is a losing game, especially when he's absolutely determined to be distracting. Possession | Story Tag 5 Chapters | Mature Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 | Complete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 In which Morpheus has a temper, jealousy is a problem, and past relationships never stay in the past. Interwoven | Story Tag  6 Chapters | Mature Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 | Complete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Dream has a lot of people in in the long span of his life and a growing relationship means finally meeting them. Or in other terms, Dream and Dahlia's casual relationship is turning not so casual. The Complications of Family | Story Tag 6 Chapters | Mature Content | AO3 | Incomplete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 The Endless 5+1. Slowly, one by one, she meets the family. Slowly, one by one, her complicated relationship with Dream tips towards the cliff's edge. A family meeting will be called.

Snippets/One-Shots:

Prompt: Settling an argument/taste Prompt: Four Letter Word Prompt: Taste/Dream’s Food Aversion (18+ Minors DNI) Prompt: Sick Orpheus Prompt: Dream with baby Orpheus Prompt: The Office Holiday Party ( 18+ Minors DNI) Prompt: New Year’s Eve

Non-Story Compliant Dream/OFC/Hob:

Interlude | One- Shot | Explicit Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 "You love him, don’t you?” | One- Shot  First Kiss | One-Shot

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: no use of y/n, cheating, protected piv sex, light degradation kink, spanking, phone sex kinda?, shitty boyfriend behavior, mentions of alcohol/partying, some angst, all characters are 18+!

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: i’ve worked so hard to spruce up this series and i’m so excited to be reposting it for you all. be on the lookout for the next two parts. this fic is my actual baby, and it means so much to me. i hope you all enjoy xx.

word count: 4.3k

It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on.

You always thought Eddie Munson, the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice that opinion to anyone. Mostly due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone in Hawkins— was the definition of perfect.

Scott McGuire was a great boyfriend… on the surface.

He was a star basketball player, friends with the most popular people in school. His family was loaded, despite being from a small town like Hawkins. He drove a Mercedes, and made you feel so special. When he had asked you out halfway through your junior year, you were over the moon.

And in the beginning of your relationship, you were beyond smitten with him. But after a year of dating him, you’d come to realize he was nothing you had wanted.

Scott was arrogant, vain and downright cruel. His biggest flaw being that he took absolute pleasure in causing pain to others. The main target of his rage was Eddie and his band of ‘freaks’. His best friend Jason was right by his side, constantly tormenting the group. But always Eddie more so than anyone else. You never enjoyed it, always finding a way to escape the moment an insult (or a punch) was thrown his way.

Despite all of this, you felt pressured to stay with him.

Your parents absolutely adored him and so did your friends. Most of which were the girlfriends of his friends. Your lives had become so interwoven you felt trapped. So to appease everyone else in your life, you continued the relationship. Even though you knew you didn’t love him.

In your eyes he was, all around, the worst boyfriend you could have landed… especially when it came to sex.

Scott was terrible in bed.

He only wanted you on his terms, only caring about his wants and needs. And in the year you’d been with him, he’d never made you come. Not once. At first you thought something was wrong with you, that you were broken.

But the more you talked with your friends on the cheer squad, the quicker you began to realize it was a Scott problem. Not a you problem. So you started faking it, your little act becoming so good that you even deluded yourself into believing it sometimes.

But that was how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place.

You were at a party at Chrissy’s, a celebration for the basketball team making it to the state championship. Initially you wanted to stay home, as parties were never something you enjoyed. But you knew how bad it would look if you didn’t show. So you went, swallowing your pride with a fake smile plastered across your face.

You let yourself fall into the role of the proud, doting girlfriend. You knew how to play it well, as it was second nature to you at this point.

At some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. Those promises fell short, as they always did. Scott had you propped up on the unmade bed, gripping your hips as he pounded sloppily into you. The fake moans that left your lips somehow had convinced you both that you were enjoying yourself.

That is until the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene. He was originally looking for the bathroom, much to the embarrassment of you both. You couldn’t hide the shame that flitted across your features, or stop your moans from faltering slightly.

Scott miraculously didn’t notice the intrusion as he continued to thrust into you, your fake moans continuing to fill the small bedroom. Your eyes were locked with Eddie’s as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments, before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and quickly left the room.

You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that following Monday.

You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, that faded Hellfire shirt hugged his broad shoulders nicely. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as you tried not to stare. But those brown eyes seemed to look right through you.

“You know, I’ve seen better acting in pornos.” He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you.

Or to alert Ms. Hall, the school librarian.

She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You had hoped that maybe Eddie would’ve been too drunk to remember what happened at the party. Or both of you would ignore the situation.

But that clearly wasn’t the case. You can feel the embarrassment coursing through you as you actively avoided his curious gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson,” you sneer before turning on your heel, grabbing a random book off the shelf in the process.

You clutch the paperback closer to your chest as you quickly try to escape the conversation.

He doesn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you before taking a seat next to you at one of the study tables.

“I mean it must be frustrating, faking it all the time,” he continues nonchalantly, resting a ringed hand next to yours on the table.

His fingertips drum against the faux wood, as you struggle to think of a reply. But your continued silence and flustered appearance spoke volumes as you began to fiddle with the frayed hem of your dress.

Eddie leans in closer, letting his breath fan across your face. The smell of his spicy cologne and a hint of smoke engulfs your senses, making your head spin.

He hums softly, keeping his voice low, “Just doesn’t seem fair. Any decent guy would make sure you were being treated well.”

You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip as you stopped yourself from leaning against him.

“He does treat me well,” you whisper back, glancing down at the book as you begin flipping through the pages.

Eddie scoffs at the notion as his hand reaches out to close the cover again. His fingertips brush against yours in the process, the small touch sending tingles down your spine.

The male glances around the mostly empty library before he leans in closer. His lips nearly graze the shell of your ear as you hold your breath in anticipation. Eddie chuckles deeply, enjoying just how flustered he’s made you.

“Well, if you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of…” he trails off, as you let out a shaky breath. “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”

The promise behind his words instantly makes your thighs clench together. Watching in stunned silence as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library.

Those words sat with you for days, taunting you.

Finding yourself utterly frustrated, in more ways than one. You just couldn’t shake how badly you wanted to take him up on that offer. Morally, you knew it was wrong— you had a boyfriend.

But there was something that felt so right about it.

Despite your initial reservations, you very quickly found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van. Your legs were flung over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his curls as his tongue had you seeing stars. It became blatantly obvious from your first time together that there was no way this could be a one time thing.

So you compromised, agreeing to meet up once a week. But only on Sundays, when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents. Ironically your family was not the church going type, but your boyfriend never questioned it.

However the longer you snuck around with Eddie, the more insatiable you became. Until it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to show you everything you were missing out on. It had surprised the both of you, but Eddie was more than happy to oblige.

But the constant sneaking around meant you couldn’t exclusively fuck in the back of his van anymore. Causing the both of you to become more creative in the process.

More than once you’d pull him under the bleachers in the gym once basketball practice ended. His ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you dropped to your knees. Or he’d bend you over the table in the drama room after a Hellfire campaign, dice and crushed cans of Mountain Dew falling off the table with each thrust of his hips.

But it still wasn’t enough, which led you to take more drastic measures.

You were on all fours, fingers clutching your floral bed sheets as Eddie pounded into you from behind.

Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Which left you with the house all to yourself, something that didn’t happen often. So this was an opportunity you didn’t want to pass up. Dialing his number before you even got out of bed that morning.

Regardless of his not so stellar reputation, it didn’t seem to sway a lot of women in Hawkins. And despite what Scott might have told you, Eddie has had plenty of sexual partners before. As many jumped at the chance to see if the rumors about the local freak were true. Which only seemed to fuel more rumors about the metalhead.

But out of everyone he had ever slept with— you were by far the neediest of them all.

Eddie couldn’t deny that he loved it. Knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. He would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were.

Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you begged the town freak to fuck you harder.

“Look at you, such a needy little slut,” he chuckles, condensation lacing his tone. “Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock, huh?”

Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, and he certainly knew how to use it. His cock reached places inside you that you didn’t know existed until now. So it was no surprise that you didn’t want to wait another day to see him again.

But deep down you knew that wasn’t the only reason you had called him over. However, you weren’t entirely ready to have that conversation with yourself yet.

“I… shit,” you mewl, finding yourself at a loss for words as he increased his pace.

Pathetic whines spill past your lips with each thrust of his hips, your walls gripping him tightly. Pleasure coursed through you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A mixture of your arousal and his spit was smeared across your thighs. A reminder of where he’d been slotted between them earlier.

“Aww, come on, sweetheart,” he teases, nipping at your ear as he slows to a more gradual pace. “Be a good girl and tell me who’s making you feel so good.”

The orgasm that had been building in your abdomen suddenly fizzles out as he stills his hips at your deepest point. You nearly cry out in defeat as he lands a harsh slap on your ass.

You knew the rules by now, he needed to hear you.

“Y-You… fuck you are, Eddie.” He hummed in response, guiding your hips forward.

“That’a girl.”

The drag of his cock has you whining, the sound quickly being drowned out by the phone on your bedside table. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you began grinding your ass back against him. But he grips your hips to stop any further movement.

“Answer it.”

Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder at him, bewilderment crossing your features. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap on your ass, “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”

You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end so soon. You’d come to realize just how much Eddie enjoyed teasing you the more you slept together. But you’d had enough teasing for one day.

So you place the receiver against your ear, trying to calm your erratic breathing, “H-Hello?”

You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.

“You alright, babe? You sound winded,” you can hear the slightest bit of suggestiveness in his tone, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

This was something you’d come to expect from Scott, the male always finding a way to bring sex into every conversation. Despite knowing he was actually spot on this time, only it wasn’t your fingers that were buried inside you.

But what you didn’t anticipate was for Eddie to start thrusting back into you at a leisurely pace. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment before you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.

“I’m great, Scott.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Eddie’s lips graze over your shoulder, “J-Just in the middle of a… workout.”

You hear Eddie laugh softly behind you, the male on the other end blissfully unaware of the kind of workout you were currently engaged in. Despite your initial reservations about answering the phone, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. Almost wanting to be caught like this.

“You still swinging by the party tonight?” Scott asks, as you continue to pulse around Eddie’s thick shaft.

His thrusts deepen, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit. Your thoughts are completely jumbled as you try to stay engaged with the conversation. But it’s proving to be difficult.

“P-Party?” You breathe out, gripping the receiver tighter in your palm.

You can hear your boyfriend’s annoyed sigh, knowing he was rolling his eyes as your own rolled into the back of your head. Eddie grunts softly in your other ear as he rams into your sweet spot. It took every bit of your remaining self restraint to not moan directly into the phone.

“It’s Tommy’s birthday. I told you about it last week,” he huffs, clearly no longer amused.

You vaguely recall the conversation, but lately you’d found yourself tuning him out more and more. Having much more important things to occupy your attention.

“Right! No, I remember now.” Your words come out whinier than you intended, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice.

You were getting close, and Eddie knew it too.

“So? Are you coming?”

Eddie stifles another laugh at the unintended joke.

He quickly wraps his ringed fingers around the base of your throat and lifts you, so your back is now flush against his sweaty chest. The new angle allows him to slip even deeper inside, causing a gasp to escape you. You quickly disguise it as a cough, before answering your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen, I-I gotta go. See you tonight.”

You hang up the phone before he even has a chance to respond. The loud moan that was trapped in your throat is finally set free, earning a groan from the male behind you.

Eddie’s disheveled curls began tickling your face as he leaned toward your ear again, “Bet he didn’t suspect a damn thing, huh?”

You can hear the smugness in his tone, whimpering as he puts more pressure on your clit.

“Cause he can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he, sweetheart?” You frantically nod your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder.

You know you can’t hold out for much longer, and judging by the way his cock twitches inside you— Eddie won’t either.

His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, sucking harshly as you tremble in his arms.

“Ed… f-fuck I’m gonna—” you are unable to finish your thought as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you.

He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, the sound being his undoing. He spills into the condom with a grunt of your name, his chest heaving as he buries himself at your deepest point. The sounds of his erratic breathing mixes with yours, filling the now quiet space of your bedroom. Feeling utterly weak in the best way possible.

And if his arms weren’t securely wrapped around your waist, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress.

You stay entangled like that for a few moments while you both come down from your highs. Enjoying the way his lips press against the curve of your shoulder.

Eddie’s actions are gentle now, carefully guiding your hips up to slip out of you. He coaxes you to lay on your back, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you gazed up at him. As amazing as the sex was, what came after was just as enjoyable.

Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable.

Especially after a round in the sheets, he was particularly cold. In the year you’d been together Scott had never once held you or comforted you. It always left you with an overwhelming sense of shame— of feeling used.

So naturally you had expected the same kind of treatment from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. After that first time together you had begun to put your clothes back on, attempting to leave right away.

But he stopped you with a soft, “Don’t go.”

It didn’t take much convincing as you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He kept you tucked in his embrace for hours, fingertips dancing along your hip. From that moment on it was the same treatment. His affection only increased the more you fooled around.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the bed to toss the condom in your trash bin. Giving Eddie the opportunity to finally take a look around your room.

You suddenly felt nervous as he made his way over to your record collection, flicking through the vinyls with the utmost care. While your popularity status had recently changed due to dating Scott, you always felt out of place amongst them. You could never be your full authentic self, in fear of rejection from your peers.

Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. It is quiet for a moment, the crackle of the record is almost comforting. Soon the beginning notes of the Labyrinth soundtrack fill that silence. You instantly feel shy, not expecting him to choose that album in particular.

Your boyfriend had teased you relentlessly for your love of David Bowie, always complaining about how weird he was. It made you feel ashamed to talk about any of your interests, most of which you’d hidden away in fear of being mocked.

But with that small act Eddie had proved, once again, that he was superior to Scott in every way imaginable.

He begins to hum along to the opening track, grabbing his boxers from the pile of your discarded clothes on the floor. Sliding the checkered material back over his legs, the fabric hanging low on his hips. You bite your lip as your eyes drift over his pale skin, zeroing in on the patch of hair that descended into his waistband.

“Keep giving me those eyes and we’re gonna have a problem, princess.” He teases, his smirk widening as he catches you ogling him.

You feel your body flush as he shoots you a playful wink before slipping into your adjoined bathroom. You hear the tap turn on, the rush of water mingling with the sultry baritone of Bowie’s vocals. You allow your body to relax against the mattress, a sense of calm washing over you.

Eddie wasn’t gone for long, emerging from the bathroom with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He sets the glass on your nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. The male carefully parts your legs, pressing a kiss to your knee as he cleans up the mess of salvia and slick that has dried onto your thighs.

You let your eyes linger on his face, watching him in complete admiration. His cheeks are tinged pink, no doubt from the weight of your gaze. He’s also not used to being regarded with such gentleness.

Eddie sheepishly avoids your eyes as he stands, tossing the used cloth into your hamper. You scoot into a sitting position to take a few sips of water from the glass. Blatantly checking him out as he bends over to grab another piece of clothing from your carpeted floor.

“Arms up,” he instructs, allowing him to pull your oversized shirt over your head.

He quickly joins you again, causing a small giggle to escape you as he squeezes himself onto your twin sized mattress. The male grins, allowing you to drape your body over his. You tangle your limbs together, instinctively resting your head on his chest.

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the steady beat of his heart in your ear. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head.

In moments like this, it was easy for you to pretend that Eddie Munson was all yours.

There were no worries about being caught, or what anyone in this god forsaken town had to say about it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize that you wanted him all to yourself.

You knew it was incredibly selfish, he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret side piece. So you kept these newly emerging feelings to yourself.

“You feeling okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t too rough or anything, was I?”

Eddie’s tone was vastly different from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and yet it only made your adoration for him grow. Knowing he truly cared about your feelings, it wasn’t just a courtesy.

His hand gently caresses your sore ass, his fingertips continuing to ghost over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver as you nuzzled your face back into his chest.

“It was perfect.” You hum, voice echoing your contentment, “You were perfect.”

Gentle, rough or anything in between— you’d be grateful as long as it was with him.

You were sure he could feel the warmth that had begun to seep into your cheeks at your admission. Reaching out his hand to delicately grasp your chin, tilting your head up to meet his curious gaze.

But it wasn’t just curiosity that shone through his eyes.

There was something else. Something deeper simmering beneath the surface of his irises.

This was uncharted territory for you, as no one, not even your boyfriend had regarded you in such a way before. But that single look alone made your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs.

You both begin to lean in without realizing, lips brushing together as you cradle his jaw. This was something completely new for both of you. While you’d kissed plenty of times, it never happened after the sex ended.

This was quickly becoming a dangerous game, one neither of you had any intention of losing.

And as hard as you tried to avoid your feelings, you knew you were starting to fall for him. Which was the most dangerous game of them all.

Your lips continued to move against each other for what felt like forever, only breaking apart to catch your breath every so often. Kissing Eddie was just as addicting as every other part of him, and you never wanted it to end.

So you stayed like that for hours, stealing kisses in between gentle words. He told you about his home life with Wayne, how he’d listened and memorized every single chord of Master of Puppets until he got it right. Little things that made you understand exactly who Eddie Munson really was.

But time seemed to pass by in an instant, the evening sky bathing the walls of your room in a golden hue. A signal that it was time for him to leave.

You felt a tug on your heartstrings as you watched him slide open your bedroom window, desperately wishing the circumstances were different.

“Wait!” you call as he was already halfway through the window, flashing you a grin as you bounded over to him.

You press a searing kiss to his mouth as he cups your cheek, neither of you quite willing to be the first to pull away.

“I gotta go,” he tries to mask the disappointment in his tone, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping out of your window completely.

You watch as the male clumsily jumps down from the second story, his wallet chain jingling upon impact. Eddie takes a moment to steady himself before he turns back to glance up at you. Giving you a little bow before he’s off, cutting through your neighbors yard to get back to his van.

You can hear the blaring guitar of Quiet Riot as he starts up the engine, the rumble echoing in your ears as he takes off down the empty street.

Taking a little piece of your heart with him.

tagging some peeps who seemed interested 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @vamp-bunny @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lokis-army-77

and a special shoutout to my bby @undead-supernova for always being my lil cheerleader ily 🫶🏻

[evilcowgirl]

pink in the night

abby anderson/reader

summary: abby nd you have been in an on-and-off relationship since the beginning of college, when you decide you've had enough of her she always finds her way back to you. (wc: 3k)

nsfw, college au, mean-ish abby, fem!reader, dom!abby

a/n: first tlou fic !!! aaa so excited to be writing again hope everyone is doing okay mwah xox

୨♡୧

It's late, much too late for you to still be awake and on edge. Your dorm room doesn't feel like your own anymore, regardless of how many times you've slept alone in this little twin sized bed, your body can tell that something is missing now. There’s this lack of warmth that leaves you shivering.

For months now, you've fallen asleep with your legs interwoven with hers. Her hands around your middle, pulling your back against her. Your hands wrap around your arms in a pathetic attempt to comfort yourself. You miss her so much that it’s pathetic considering it had been less than a week since you last saw her. Actually, if you were going to be exact, you saw her two days ago at the cafeteria and you promptly had to leave to stop yourself from getting emotional. She had always teased you about how dependent you were on her. Kissing your cheek as she told you how helpless you’d be without her. Until now, you never knew how bad it really was.

It pains you just to think about it. All the words she threw at you, hoping to break you down just enough so she could pick up all the little broken pieces once again. This time you actually put your foot down, shocking you and her both. You’d told her to leave with tears running down your cheeks. You had to repeat yourself three times before she realized that you were actually serious this time. The shock on her face made you feel good, like you had done something to prove her wrong.

“I’ll be back when you calm the fuck down.” She said to you as she left your dorm that day. Even in her defeat she still lets you know you're not strong enough to stay away from her forever. When the door slammed behind her you flinched, the silence leaving you to really think about what you wanted. In the moment, it was peace and quiet and maybe a drink. But now, six days and a handful of hours later, all you wanted was Abby’s hands on your skin. She was always so gentle with you, completely contradictory to the way she looked to most people. Only you really got to see that softer size of her. The side that would wrap her arms around your waist and call you hers. It was easy to remember the good parts of Abby when she wasn’t there to remind you just how mean she could be.

You sighed, turning over in bed for the umpteenth time. Your blanket falling off your shoulder and leaving it bare and chilly as you gazed over at your phone sitting on your bedside table. It wasn’t a good idea by any means, but it was late and you were lovesick in the most dreadful definition of the word. You reached over to grab your phone, going to her number was second nature. Your fingers hovered over your keyboard for a while as you thought of what you should say. It was a little past 2 in the morning but you knew Abby would still be awake, she always stayed up much later than you.

“i miss you a lot”

You hit send before you could second guess your decision. Immediately you tossed your phone under your pillow and pressed your blushing face into it. Your heart was beating fast enough for you to feel it in your throat. The embarrassment had set in much quicker that you thought it would. You still had time to unsend it, you reminded yourself. She’s probably busy with her friends or something and wont check her phone until later tonight. You could unsend it and turn your phone off and forget this even happened.

“I miss you too.”

When you felt your phone buzz you stopped breathing. You half hopped that you imagined it, but when you checked the notification was plain as day. “Oh god, I’m so stupid.” you whispered to yourself as you started typing.

“come over?”

Her response was immediate, like she was waiting for it.

“On my way now.”

You tossed your phone once again, squealing a bit into your pillow at what you'd just started up.

୨♡୧

Abby knew it was going to happen at some point. To give you credit, she definitely didn’t think it would take this long. Around day 3 she actually started to get nervous, asking her teammates if they thought she really messed up this time, if she’d lost you for real. She had the tendency to take things too far, it was basically what she was known for. Whether she was working out, or fucking, or pushing her girlfriend to the edge for the millionth time, she never knew when to stop. You didn’t deserve it and she knew that. She didn’t know why she acted the way that she did, all she knew was that you seemed like you could handle her. Apparently she had been wrong. The walk to your dorm took half the time it usually does. She was on a mission to make your forgive her, she couldn’t go on like this. Not knowing what you were doing every hour of the day, not hearing your voice. It was killing her, not that she would ever admit that to you.

She used her spare key to unlock your door, cracking it open and slipping in as to not make too much noise. Your room was dark, barely lit by a little star-shaped night light plugged into your wall. There was a sugary vanilla scent in the air that she was oh-so familiar with. She steps over a few of your stuffed animals to kneel by your bed where you sit waiting for her.

Soft light from your bedside lamp illuminates her face and at that moment you think she's got to be an angel. You know better though, shes far from innocent and she had proved that to you a thousand times over. She’s looking down at your lap where your hands are fidgeting.

"Abby." You said simply. The word left your lips so naturally, it felt more right than anything else you could've possibly said in that moment. Just seeing her in front of you made your hands twitch. The need to just touch overwhelming you. You wondered if she noticed; Abby always seemed to notice everything. At hearing your voice she finally turns back to face you. The way her eyes soften when they meet yours makes you want to forget all the things she's said to you.

"I'm here," She says and you almost laugh. You probably would've if you weren't so painfully thankful. "Are you. . . Alright?" She says in a weird almost nervous tone. It's jarring to hear her like this, and a part of you knows how wrong it is that you like it so much.

"I'm okay now that you're here." You say. It's genuine and the hopeless look on your face tells her that. You look so lost without her and that's exactly what she wanted isn't it? But now, actually being face-to-face with you, she's being forced to rethink. She sighs quietly, rolling her head back a little like you'd just done something irreversible. You secretly hope you did.

“You remember what you said, right?” She asks you, her voice all soft. She pushes a large hand under your soft blanket. You inhale as she stops right on your bare thigh and leaves it there.

You nod. You knew she would do this, make you think about what you did. Make you regret it.

“You didn’t mean that though, did you? You don’t want me to leave you alone.” She tells you and you couldn’t agree more. Her hand starts to kneed at you, like she’s prying out a response. You give her what she wants.

“I didn’t know what I was saying, Abby. I need you so bad, I can’t-I can’t think without you.” You whine to her. She smiles so sweetly to remind you how she’s getting off on your pleading. Her hand is wandering now, it feels like a reward for giving up your humility for her. You don’t feel ashamed for it though. Her hand moves higher, closer to where you’re warm and growing wet just from. being close to her.

“Such a good girl” She whispers, her voice so low you almost miss it. At that, your thigh twitches, clearly amusing her. “I suppose you want me to touch you?” She says with a sick grin on her lips. You nod with your eyes stuck on her, bright and filled with hope like she was some kind of god to you. She loved it, it turned her on more than anything else. “I know, I know. . . d’you think you deserve it though?”

You debate a bit in your head for a moment, looking down and away. Did you deserve it? To have Abby make you feel good after you’d tried to leave her? She shifts closer, her face close enough to yours now that you feel her breath on your cheek. “Tell me you’re sorry, then i’ll think about touching you.” It’s the best deal anyone could offer you.

“I’m so sorry Abby, please, I need you so bad.” You plead to her with your sweet little voice that makes her swoon. Your pretty glossed lips tremble when she hums, considering let you have what you want.

“Yeah?” She asks you. A large hand makes its way to the soft material of your panties and she can feel the heat radiating from you already. “Jesus. . .” She says under her breath.

She’s got to see you, she has to. When she pulls off your blanket you shiver at the shock. All you’ve got on other than your underwear is an oversized t-shirt that definitely belongs to her, with her high school football team’s name on it in faded letters. It’s one of your favorite shirts to sleep in since she left it at your room about two months ago. The last time she saw you in it she’d gotten all possessive and fucked you until your bed frame scratched up the wall behind it. She remembered it vividly. How loud you had been for her that night, the way your hands gripped at her arms as she entered you. She thought about it a lot, it was one of her favorite daydreams. Right now though, in the present, her eyes were trained on the damp middle of your light pink panties. She crawls up onto your bed then, laying you back as she did so she could hover over your lower half. Your legs part for her easily and she kisses your thigh in return. She sucked in a breath as she brought a finger down to trace over your slit through the fabric. There's a cute little bow at the top of your panties that she toys with. She watches your stomach tenses up when she touches you like that. She brings her hand lower, stroking up and down the length of your cunt lazily. She blinks up at you and you look almost pained, eyebrows knitted together and a pout she wants to kiss off your face. God you're so spoiled.

“Abby. . .” You said shakily. The feeling of her fingers on your pussy was heavenly, but you needed more. Her skin against your skin.

“Shh, be patient.” She tells you.

You watch as she adjusts herself to get closer and you feel a burning in your stomach, knowing exactly what was coming next. She placed an open mouthed kiss right up against your clit, tasting your wetness through the thin, soaked through fabric. She loved doing this, every time she ate you out she started like this, and without fail it always got you worked up. The next time she brings her mouth down on you, you can’t keep your noises in. A high pitched sound comes out of your mouth, a sound that you forgot you could make after all these days away from Abby. You missed how good she could make you feel. You feel her smirking against you, cocky as usual about the effect she had on you. She decides to give you what she knows you want now and pushes your panties to the side with two of her fingers. Your exposed cunt aching for her.

“So pretty.” She says before licking a short stripe against your folds. Seeing you like this, exposed just for her makes her want to ruin you. Now’s not the time for that though. “You’re so wet for me, just for me.” Her mouth is on your again, pressing kisses against your sensitive clit before she starts torturously slow licks.

“Just for you, Abby. . .” You assure her, you’re all dizzy with pleasure. Looking down at her with her mouth busy on your pussy is almost too much. You feel like you could cum already.

You push your hands into her hair, it’s slightly damp still from the shower, only in a messy ponytail instead of the braid she’s almost never seen without. Your fingers comb through the shorter strands that frame her face, pushing them back as she continues to eat you out like you’re her last meal. She’s so pretty you think your could cry. She looks like a painting while going down on you, the distinct slope of her nose and the thickness of her dark lashes. You almost want her to stop just so you can place kisses all over her face. Her focus on your clit becomes overwhelming for a moment and you inhale as your hands tighten in her blonde hair. She smells clean like soap and the moisturizer you left at her place. “God, please. . . I- It’s s’good.” You ramble like this when you’re getting close. The feeling of your manicured nails against her scalp is addictive. She loves when you pet her like this while she pleasures you.

“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead, my good girl.” She says with her lips moving against your pussy. She uses her fingers for the first time, but not to enter you. She glides them through the sticky mess she’s made of your cunt. “Want you to remember this,” She says. The tip of her middle finger slides right against your entrance, circling around a bit before slipping in. “Want you to remember I'm the only one who can get you this wet without even trying.” She moves her finger in and out a few times, the thickness of her digit driving you crazy. She leans down again. Pushing her tongue into your hole, replacing her finger with it. Your hips buck up, pushing yourself on her face and she doesn’t stop you. Only placing a large hand on your hip you guide you as she moves her tongue against your pussy. She's so good with her mouth, you feel jealous just thinking about whoever taught how to go down. You can hear your wetness, it's so obscene but you love it. It doesn't make you shy, just more desperate.

The room is unbearably hot now, you feel your shirt sticking to your skin with the thin sheen of sweat that’s covering you. As you get closer to your release, you move a hand up to your tits to touch your nipples, rubbing your fingers over them uncoordinatedly. Abby would help you if she wasn’t so focused on getting you to cum on her face. She knows that she’s the only one who can really touch you the way you need. but it’s cute to see your try.

“Abby, abby. . .” You chant, your words slurring a little bit.

“Go ahead, baby.” Your heart skips at the pet name.

When you cum, it wrecks you. A strangled noise escaping you as you arch into her touch. She doesn’t stop either, her fingers still moving against you as she watches your face intensely, not wanting to miss how pretty you are when you’re finishing for her. She leans up to press a kiss to your open mouth, which you return immediately, pulling her face against her’s the second you get your hands on her. You can taste yourself all over her mouth as she sucks at your tongue. Her hair falls over her face with how you've ruined it. The strands get in the way and she makes an aggravated grunt as she pushes them back again. You can barely keep up with her as she hovers over you, only pausing for a breath before she’s kissing you again. It feels like hours pass before you pull apart, both of you sweaty and tired out. You more than her of course.

“Missed you so much.” She tells you. You laugh a little, “I can tell.”

She looks down with a bashful smile, “Shut up.” If you weren’t so angelic looking in your fucked out state she’d shove you. “I’m never letting you push me away again.” She says. You can tell it’s a promise. You want her to keep it.

୨♡୧

You both fall asleep rather quickly. Abby’s arms around you, making you feel safe. The sun is just beginning to rise, bringing enough light into the room for you to see her discarded sweatpants on your floor and her hair tie on your nightstand. Abby is still asleep, you can tell by the slow rise and fall of her chest against you. Under the blanket your legs are tangled between hers and you can feel her breathing against the top of your head. When you both wake up you'll beg her to take you to the coffee shop on campus like you both love to do when you're not mad at eachother. Today would be one of those days.

Until then, you're content with just being with her in the serenity of it all. No matter how messed up it is, you know you’d rather fight with her everyday for the rest of your life than give this up.

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi hi hiii you're the absolute best

Can I please request a smutty fic about Suguru feeling insecure and he needs reader to comfort him? Maybe slow sensual sex, lots of tongue kissing and playing with his hair 🫣🫣🫣

Word Count: 1,351

warnings: angst, smut, depression, creampies, oral {fem receiving}, fem!reader, sweet Suguru

He was doing it again. As soon as he’d gotten home from the mission, he had locked himself in the bathroom. You had heard him in there brushing his teeth and gargling mouthwash for what seemed like a borderline hazardous amount of time. Then, you heard the show turn on. It hadn’t turned off for at least an hour, and you know all too well the state he’ll be in when he finally comes out. Suguru’s skin will be all red and irritated from the scrubbing. He’ll have doused himself in so much cologne you’ll be able to smell him before he enters the room. When you get too close, he’ll flinch and carefully watch your face for signs of disgust. 

Anyone else might think he’s hiding some illicit affair, but you know better.

You know how much he fears smelling like curses. Even worse are the times when he hesitates to kiss you because he’s worried you’ll be able to taste the sulfuric rot of the disgusting creatures on his lips and tongue. He worries and worries because he can taste it. At some point he’s lost track of if the taste is real or if he’s subjected himself to consumption so many times the taste is interwoven into the fabric of his essence. The only time he doesn’t taste it is when he instead tastes you. 

You whose lips taste like strawberries and whose body tastes like the most decadent of desserts. The arousing nectar that flows from your hole is like honey crafted from the hands of the gods themselves. You were his delicacy…His salvation. 

He finally emerges from the bathroom. His gray sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips as he dries his hair with the towel slung around his broad shoulders. You smile at him, whole-heartedly, yet you recieve a weak smile in response. 

“Hi baby,” you greet him as you crawl off the couch and skip over to him. 

“Hey, honey,” he whispers. You stand on your tippy toes to kiss him and he hesitates to bridge the gap. You pout at the rejection.

“Kiss me,” you whine and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Not tonight,” he says quietly and shudders as he remembers the rotten milk taste of the curse he’d devoured before. 

“Babe,” you whine. “I missed you so bad. Please…” 

He gives in when you bounce like a spoiled kid on your tiptoes. He leans down to kiss you softly, and can’t help moaning when you push your tongue against his lips. As he lets your tongue rub against his, he braces for the rejection. His body even tenses in anticipation for the moment when you pull away while trying to mask a look of disgust. 

Instead you lean in closer, the soft swell of your breasts pushing against his chest. He grabs your hips and squeezes gently before pushing them down to your ass. Your tongues rub together in a sensual dance until you have to pull apart to breathe. 

Geto’s heart races when he looks down at your flushed cheeks, and your eyes have that glazed-over look. He smiles before kissing your forehead and rubbing your butt. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “Why…Me?” 

“First of all, have you seen yourself?” you giggle. 

He smiles softly, feeling a little shy at the insinuation of him being beautiful. Yet he can’t help wanting to hear more of your praise. He’s too shy to ask, so he just leans in for another kiss. This time he’s the one to nudge his tongue against yours; coaxing you into a steamy, open-mouthed kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair and you let out the most delicious little moan for him. He swallows it up with an innate eagerness. 

“Suguru, you’re so…Beautiful. I can’t even put it into words.” 

He whines, a low deep noise in the back of his throat. His grip on you tightens as he nuzzles his face against the curve of your neck. He holds you against his body as he presses kisses on your skin. You drag your hands down his chest slowly and then grab his hips. 

He hoists you into his arms and carries you into the bedroom. You giggle as he lays you down on the bed, and he tosses his towel off to the side. You watch his large, muscular form crawl over you. His eyes are heavy with lust. Geto wants to lose himself in you for a while, to take everything you can give him. He slips your clothes off with ease, and you can see the bulge of his erection pressing against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he kisses along your thighs and lowers his head to lick a stripe up your slit. 

“Mm, Suguru,” you moan. 

He groans as he lowers himself fully onto the mattress and spreads you legs even wider. Your hands tangle in his hair as he swirls his tongue over your clit slowly. He moans as the taste of your honey-sweet arousal coats his tongue, momentarily offering reprieve from cursed taste that haunts him. His eyes flutter closed, and he’s almost mindlessly lapping at your cunt. 

“Baby,” you whine and arch your back. He growls softly in response and dives in deeper. He’s nearly cutting off his own airflow as he presses his nose to your clit while pushing his tongue into your wet hole. 

He groans under his breath, words of praise that don’t reach your ears but you understand the meaning all the same. You cry out with pleasure as he licks from hole to clit over and over. Then, he settles on sucking your clit just the way you like. He’s learned after years of practice and near worship just how to please you. He knows when to speed up and when to slow down just from listening to the sound of your moaning. It’s one of the things he prides himself the most on. No matter what else happens he knows he’ll always be the one who can pleasure you like no other can. 

“I’m so close,” you whine softly, and he pulls away with a small smirk. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, praising you for telling him. 

He pushes his sweatpants down past his ass and takes out his cock. He drags the leaking tip up and down you’re soaking wet folds before teasing your entrance. 

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he moans softly. Then, he slowly thrusts into you. 

“Oh god,” you whine. 

You wrap your legs around his waist and your hands are still tangled in his long hair, tugging in response to his big cock rubbing against your inner walls. 

He has you right where he wants you, so sensitive and needy from the climax that he deprived you of. He watches the way your face contorts with unbridled pleasure as he fucks you sensually. 

“You feel so good on my cock,” he grunts as he picks up the pace, making sure to angle his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust. 

He leans down to kiss you. Once more it’s all open mouthed and heated as your tongues rub together. Everything feels so good, so sensual. Geto is eager to let this last as long as he can, to escape the demons in his head. 

“Baby,” you moan as your head falls back against the pillows. You caress his cheek then his neck and shoulders. “I…I think I’m gonna cum.” 

“You think?” he chuckles. His hand goes between your slick bodies to rub your swollen clit. You cry out in pleasure as waves of heat crash over your body. 

“Oh fuck!” you cry out as the pleasure hits the highest wave. 

“Mm, that’s it,” he growls as he helps you ride it out. “Fuck, that’s perfect.” 

With a few more hard thrusts he’s crying out as spurts of cum paint your walls white. He’s panting for air as he snuggles against your chest. 

“Suguru, I love you so much,” you whisper. 

“I love you too, angel,” he says before kissing along your jawline. 

[bruh-changbin]

love and leather

pairing: bad boy changbin! x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: use of handcuffs, piv, exhibitionism, fingering (f receiving), some smoochin', alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, an icky man being kinda icky, i think that's all

word count: 3.4K

a/n: before y’all say anything i knowwww this is short but y'all i'm busy and fuck in my last semester of uni and i kinda need to prioritize that a bit more 😭 buuuuut on the flip side i am slowly but surely making progress on some longer fun things so keep your eyes peeled 🫶 this fic is basically a love letter to bad boy eyeliner bin *sigh* when will he return from war..... also lowkey a continuation of under the bleachers but also not really.... no real plot just smutty bc i've been super horknee lately lawl enjoy

————

seo changbin likes a lot of things.

he likes eyeliner and smoking cigarettes and hard sex. he likes going fast on his motorcycle and he likes his tattered leather jacket. he likes getting piercings with silver jewelry and he likes pretending that the taste of tequila doesn’t affect him.

but above all, he likes you.

he likes your pretty teeth and the curve of your neck. he likes the leather platform boots you bought to try to impress him. he likes the smell of your shampoo that’s now permanently interwoven into the fabric of his pillow.

he likes it when you cry when you cum and when you dig your teeth into his shoulder as he fucks you. he likes the way your speech becomes slurred after he’s given you countless mind-blowing orgasms.

he likes to be in control. but not in a weird, lowkey misogynistic way. more in a ‘i’m gonna fuck you so hard and act cold so we both feel good and then kiss away your tears because i love you more than anything else’ kind of way, you know? that’s why handcuffs are such a staple in your relationship.

you remember the first time he used those cold, metal cuffs on you.

it was after a halloween party and changbin was dressed up as, you guessed it, a police officer. the party was fun at first but soon grew to be quite boring. when changbin started to get a little too handsy was when you decided to call it a night. the cab ride back to your apartment was excruciatingly long and when you arrived you unlocked your door with trembling, sweaty hands.

no words needed to be exchanged for you to know to get onto your mattress on your stomach, hands behind your back where changbin cuffed them in place with a satisfying metallic click! 

his movements were painstakingly slow, removing and discarding your bottoms and costume at a torturous pace to tease you (for what you have no idea - your costume wasn’t even that revealing). you could feel the tip of his nose tracing the skin in between your shoulder blades before he fucked you from behind, his blunt nails digging into your hips and he gripped you like he was never gonna let go. all you could do was cry and drool into your bedding as your boyfriend brought you to orgasm so many times your legs felt like tv static.  

every time you tried to move, tried to find solace and stability by gripping the duvet underneath you, you were reminded of the cuffs that were binding your wrists together. changbin would chuckle every time he heard them clink and jingle, knowing he had complete and utter control over you. if anything it added fuel to his fire, resulting in him thrusting his cock into you in such a way that made it feel as if he was so deep inside of you that the two of you would forever be connected.

when he finally relented and unlocked you, your wrists were bruised and throbbing - it felt amazing. 

the stinging of your wrists coupled with the pulsing of your abused cunt had you passing out on changbin’s broad chest in minutes and falling into one of the deepest sleeps you had ever experienced. 

but of course, come morning time, he treated you as if you were royalty and kissed the marks that his handcuffs left on you with so much delicacy you thought you were going to turn into a puddle. 

unbeknownst to the outside world, seo changbin has a soft side; which you discovered the first time he brought you into his room and had forgotten to hide his munchlax plushie beforehand. watching him scramble to hide it under his bed made the situation 10 times worse, and all he could do was scratch the back of his neck sheepishly as you attempted to stifle your laugh.

once the two of you became, you know, official, he let this side of him shine through more often. 

at times he treats you as if you’re made of porcelain, as if you’ll crack and break at even the slightest touches - hence the way he traces the back of your hand with his thumb when you’re holding hands, his strokes akin to that of a feather.

you’ve lost track of the amount of times he’s almost burnt your kitchen down while attempting to make you breakfast after making love to you for hours on end the night before. it always ends the same, with changbin holding a plate of toast so burnt it's turned into bedrock and scrambled eggs you could bounce off the wall because of how rubbery they are. the result is always changbin dragging you to your favourite cafe for brunch in defeat, claiming that ‘it’s the thought that counts, y/n’. 

but only you have the privilege of seeing him like this. these small, tender moments reserved only for the two of you in private, away from the curious eyes of onlookers in public. 

on the days where both of you are lucky enough to not have to pull yourself out of bed early for the sake of attending a lecture or getting work done, you get to revel in the warmth provided by each other’s sleeping bodies. if you wake before changbin, you’re greeted with a view of his broad shoulders, his skin dotted with small imperfections and the bumps of his individual vertebrae visible. small, soft snores can be heard escaping his parted lips. if changbin wakes before you do… he never does.

sometimes you’re able to spend the whole entire day together without having to tend to other duties. these days usually entail slow, lazy starts to the day followed by changbin dragging you to the gym to watch him do lat pulldowns and cable rows followed by a shared shower where you help massage shampoo into his scalp. or, it could involve the two of you screaming at the tv as you battle over the top spot in mario kart 8 - changbin mains bowser, of course, whereas you opt to play as king boo. it takes almost all of your strength to avoid whipping your remote at the wall when he absolutely clobbers you during grumble volcano. 

“don’t be upset y/n,” he coos without fail, “i’ll make it up to you later tonight!”

and he always does.

in public, he’s brooding, mysterious, sexy. it’s rare to see him without a cocky smirk painted across his face, his puffed lips quirked upwards as if to say ‘i’m better than you’ to anyone who crosses his path. and it’s true, he is.

he’s also the type to get jealous very easily.

case in point: 

it’s friday night, and the two of you are perusing the city streets looking for some fun. earlier in the day, jisung had informed you that a small group of friends was planning on paying a visit to a well loved bar to get sloshed later that night. with nothing better to do, you and changbin accepted the invitation.

at first it was fun, with everyone reconnecting and catching eachother up on the current drama in their lives. but after an hour or two the vibe changed and the atmosphere became almost… cliquey. everyone had chosen their respective person or group for the night, choosing to only converse within their little bubble and never straying from it. this resulted in you and changbin fleeing the scene, opting to enjoy yourselves elsewhere where you can get lost in the music and each other… and alcohol. 

soon after you’re at the front of a line for some club you’ve never been to with changbin’s arm wrapped around your waist as the bouncer checks your i.d. you’re let in with a nonchalant wave of a hand, and changbin follows shortly after.

once inside you make your way up the stairs to where the crowd is, choosing to forgo coat check and instead tossing your jackets on top of a pile that has formed on one of the few tables lining the walls near the entrance. then, you make a beeline to the bar where you order yourself a vodka cran and changbin a heineken. 

with alcohol in hand you shove your way to the middle of the dance floor, getting lost in the club music while bumping and grinding on your boyfriend who’s posted up behind you. you’re not sure how much time you spend on the dancefloor with warm cheeks and limbs that have gone fuzzy, but it feels as if time itself has come to a momentary halt, allowing you to enjoy yourself in this moment while the world continues on outside without you. 

so, when changbin taps your shoulder and motions to the bar to wordlessly say ‘i’m going to get more drinks’ you only nod and continue to dance on your own while you wait for his return. 

this decision proves to be fatal however, for only moments after changbin’s departure you feel a clammy hand wrap around your bicep. you whip around only to find yourself face to face with some random man wearing a nike tracksuit ogling at you like you’re the last piece of his favourite candy at the candy store. gross. 

“sorry, are you trying to get past me?”

“nah i’m trying to get with you, ma,” he practically yells into your ear in order to be heard over the music.

“oh! no thanks, my boyfriend’s at the bar getting drinks,” you say and attempt to shuffle away, an action that proves to be harder than you thought due to the mass of people surrounding you.

much to your dismay, the man persists, “boyfriend? why’d he leave you here all alone?”

“... to get us drinks.”

“well, if i was your man i’d never leave you alone, princess.”

princess? gross. only changbin gets to call you that… when he’s fucking you.

“is everything okay, y/n?” you feel an arm nudge yours and turn around to see changbin, your knight in shining armour, who’s come to save you from this god awkward conversation. in each hold he hands a drink, one for you and one for himself, and you fear what he may do with them in the next few moments.

“yea, all good, this guy was just being… weird,” 

the skepticism that was previously evident on changbin’s face quickly morphs into annoyance (and jealousy at the prospect of someone other than himself making moves on you). without speaking he shoves the recently acquired drinks into your hands - making you scramble to stop yourself from dropping them and creating a sticky, syrupy mess all over the dance floor - before moving to size up the ‘bro’ that was just hitting on you with his chest puffed and chin held high. 

not wanting to get into any sort of trouble tonight, you practically throw yourself in front of the freight train that is your boyfriend.

“no! it’s fine, changbin, let’s just forget him and have a good time, ‘kay?” you attempt to reason with him to no avail. all changbin does is shift his gaze between you and the guy who was making moves on you several times before wordlessly grasping your arm and pulling you towards the exit; you’re forced to abandon the dripping drinks in your hands on the edge of the bar (not before you manage to spill about half of one all over your lower arm).

soon you’re out of the crowded space, and are making your way towards the exit of the building and the city streets that are surely still teeming with nightlife.

“bin-” 

“we’re going home,” he asserts, “i don’t want anyone talking to you like that.”

all you can do is allow yourself to be dragged behind your boyfriend like a ragdoll, his grip on your wrist so tight your fingertips start to lose their sensation. you know that any words of dissatisfaction you voice will be falling on deaf ears, so you opt to keep quiet and let changbin take the lead.

the bite of the cold night air of the winter jolts you awake once you step outside. a dull ring settles in your ears as the loud club music dissipates and changbin drags you further and further away from the establishment, almost dislocating your shoulder when he suddenly yanks you down a small, secluded alleyway. 

“bin i’m fine, really,” you attest, your eyes never leaving the troubled face of your boyfriend, who pulls a pack of marlboros and a lighter out of his pocket. you watch as he places a cigarette between his lips before lighting it, using his hand to shelter the flame from the wind. in that moment you become envious of a measly little cigarette, for you so desperately wish that it was you and your mouth that changbin was putting his lips on and inhaling deeply, sucking you in like you’re his lifeline. 

a haze of smoke soon surrounds you as changbin takes several drags from his dart, his eyes dark and refusing to meet yours. the scent burns your nostrils and you have to fight back the urge to cough; smoking only appeals to you when you’re drunk, and the alcohol you consumed earlier in the night has mostly exited your system.

with a sigh that manifests in a grey cloud changbin tosses his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, squashing the spark with the heel of his boot before catching your eye. his leather jacket rustles as he raises his hands to cup your face, the pads of his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“you’re mine, and nobody else’s,” his gaze is so piercing it feels as if he’s going to burn a hole through you, “right?”

you nod enthusiastically, head bobbing up and down as you whisper a quiet ‘right’ through squished cheeks and puckered lips - lips that are then being pressed against your boyfriends. 

changbin tastes like the nicotine he just inhaled and smells like the cologne he saturated himself with earlier this evening, and you find yourself getting drunk all over again on something other than alcohol this time - him. 

with your back pressed up against a brick wall you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of your lover’s mouth on yours, enraptured by the way changbin moves his lips in tandem with your own. the warmth radiating from the palms of his hands that have yet to leave your face makes your cheeks flush, and you tangle your fingers in the wavy strands of his hair that he’s choosing to let grow out, much to your delight. 

the skin of your cheek stings when it’s exposed to the cold as changbin retracts his hand from your face, the tips of his fingers tracing the skin of your neck and sternum before reaching the waistband of your bottoms. his curious hand only hovers there for a moment before slipping underneath, not allowing a mere piece of fabric to be an obstacle in the way of your pleasure. a feeble moan escapes you when changbin gropes your cunt over your panties, the fabric already sticky and wet with your arousal. 

“here, bin?” you question while scanning your surroundings, making sure there isn't anyone spying on the two of you being exhibitionists, “are you sure this is a good idea?’

“the best one i’ve ever had,” as he speaks his lips graze your neck, his breath hot and heavy before he starts to nip and suck at the supple skin; your pulse skyrockets and you clamp your thighs shut, ultimately trapping changbin’s hand in between them. 

he manages to pry your legs apart just enough in order to move his hand, sliding your panties to the side and running two deft fingers through the folds of your dripping, needy pussy. it’s funny in the sense that changbin’s actions are so simple yet they already have you whining in pleasure, head rolling forward as you hide yourself in the crook of his neck. 

“shhh baby, try to keep it down,” he coos, yet continues on nonetheless - easy for him to say, he’s not the one taking your fingers in an alleyway where a bunch of drunk people are parading by only metres away. 

changbin continues to play with your cunt nonchalantly, much to your chagrin. every now and then he lets the tip of his middle finger dip into your dripping hole, causing you to go weak in the knees as the calloused heel of his palm kisses and bumps your aching clit.

“binnie,” you heave out rather embarrassingly, “i need it.”

“my girl needs my fingers in her pretty pussy, huh?” he teases, you nod pathetically with glassy eyes.

and at long last changbin finally relents and slips his middle and ring fingers fully inside of you, your cunt immediately clenching around his digits. the way he drags his fingers in and out of you so slowly before fucking them back into you feels so euphoric that you can’t help the goofy, drunken smile that makes its way onto your face as you drool onto the shoulder of his leather jacket. 

with his broad shoulders shielding you from the outside world, changbin begins to curl and scissor his fingers inside of your warm, wet walls, making you moan and plead against his neck.

“god binnie you’re so good, feels so fucking good,” you cry through cracked lips while blinking away the eyeliner that stings your shiny, tearfilled eyes. 

changbin then uses his thumb to massage your clit while his fingers continue to reach deep inside of you, making your lower abdomen twist and churn and your heart go thump thump thump from behind your chest. your fingers only tighten their grip on changbin’s jacket as you subtly rock your hips against his hand in an attempt to bring your orgasm on sooner.

you find yourself tuning out the sounds of traffic and people and nightlife to instead hone in on the beating of changbin’s heart that you can hear beating in his chest, your moans that only continue to increase in pitch, the rustle of bin’s jacket as he fingers you. 

“so close honey, can you cum for me?” changbin groans into your ear in response to your pussy clenching around his fingers, a telltale sign that you’re on the brink of finishing all over his hand. at this point your back is aching from being pressed against brick for so long and you have a headache from how intensely you’ve been furrowing your brows, but the fire you feel in your aching pelvis makes it all worth it.

it only takes changbin several more thrusts before you’re creaming all over his fingers, whining his name is a nasally, needy tone as you all but collapse against his built frame as your orgasm explodes inside of you like fireworks. after a few moments you begin to come down, immediately noticing how dry your open mouth is and how sore your fingers are from gripping changbin’s jacket with everything you got.

when you pull away from changbin to stand up straight, a string of spit from your mouth to his jacket follows you - you wipe it away and pray he didn’t notice. it takes you a second to fully regain your balance and when you do, changbin finally lets go of your hips only to move his soiled fingers to his mouth where he sucks them clean of your essence. then he places his mouth on yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before he swallows you down his throat. 

words needn’t be exchanged for you to know what comes next, you simply follow changbins lead as he drags you all the way home and makes a mess of you on the sheets of his bed.