#i would have been completely fucking baffled by what i was watching

[classicjdog]

13 sentinels is absolutely positively batshit fucking insane

just finished the game last night and WOW is it fucking good

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay hear me out: should I buy a car

[hcuyk]

OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, haechan had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with haechan

PAIRING ✧ rival!haechan x fem!reader

GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining

WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive haechan : NSFW TAGS :  outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyuck for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

≡ [ OUR INFERNO EXCLUSIVE ] @flwoie — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

. . . . . . OUR INFERNO M.LIST ✩ next [ TWO ]

⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @nyujjan @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie (lmk if you prefer to be tagged for both, or for only hyunjae/haechan!) — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

NCT DREAM MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

AUTHOR'S NOTE : haechan's version for the original our inferno is finally here! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who the fuck does Haechan actually think he is?”

Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Jaemin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center. 

“Well, he is your boss.”

“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Jaemin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye. 

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Jaemin, and Haechan were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Haechan was the subject of interest, and Jaemin was there for physical support. 

Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Haechan’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Haechan’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’

For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Haechan was still in the locker room changing.

“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Jaemin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.

“Against Haechan? You gotta be kidding, right?”

“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Haechan.”

Jaemin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Haechan. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Haechan, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.

“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to, not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Jaemin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.

“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”

“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Jaemin grumbled.

“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”

“Well yeah, but the—”

“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”

“That’s just how-”

“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Jaemin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.

“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”

“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.

You jerked around to find Haechan, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.

You halted in your path and stared him down. Haechan immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.

“You.” 

Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Haechan laugh.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh here we go again,” Jaemin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.

As a mutual friend of yours and Haechan’s since middle school, Jaemin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be. 

“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Haechan feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”

“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.

Haechan furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.

“Jaemin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”

Jaemin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Haechan in annoyance.

“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”

“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Jaemin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Haechan’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.

“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”

“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.

“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”

“I’m complaining,” Jaemin muttered.

“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Haechan had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.

Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away. 

“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Haechan’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”

What you despised most was how well Haechan knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Haechan, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.

Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism. 

Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.

“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.

“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”

“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Jaemin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.

“Get a room—!”

“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”

“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared. 

“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”

“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”

You and Haechan both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).

“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Jaemin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.

“And apparently horny too.”

“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in). 

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

“I’m going to hurl,” Jaemin unnecessarily announced, and Haechan’s face soured.

“Ew.”

“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Jaemin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically. 

“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”

“Or, hot take,” Haechan interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”

“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Jaemin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”

He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Haechan. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Jaemin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance. 

Jaemin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.

“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”

You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Jaemin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Haechan as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Jaemin’s speedy steps.

Despite carrying heavier items, Haechan caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Haechan’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.

“He sees it,” Haechan sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”

“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.

“You can’t be serious.”

Haechan, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.

“Haechan,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

Instead of receiving something witty from Haechan like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.

The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Haechan like you normally do.

“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Jaemin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.

“Earth to Haechan?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Yeonjun, remember?”

For a moment, Haechan could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.

“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”

Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.

“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”

“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”

“It was a mistake, okay?”

“A mistake?” As Haechan’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.” 

Seeing how Haechan was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Haechan was behaving felt like he was trying to control you. 

All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Haechan was being more condescending than he had ever been.

“You know nothing, Haechan, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”

“You’re still with him??”

“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”

And just like how you always are, Haechan refused to shut up.

“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”

“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Haechan was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”

“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Yeonjun, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Haechan could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.

Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Haechan meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.

After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself. 

“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”

Haechan stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better. 

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Hyuck.”

Haechan clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.

You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.

Not only was Haechan’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Jaemin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Jaemin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.

“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.

When you turned around to walk away, you knew Haechan was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.

“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”

And with that, you left. 

//

Jaemin apologized to you the morning after.

He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Jaemin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Haechan told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.

According to Jaemin, he only told Haechan about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Haechan already knew. As Jaemin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Haechan didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Jaemin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Haechan had brought it up to Jaemin instead.

Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.

But avoiding Haechan felt like lighting a match in the rain. 

It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Haechan Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.

He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Haechan had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council. 

Yet it all felt so different.

Unless he was called on, Haechan would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.

You had also gotten quieter because without Haechan to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either. 

There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same. 

Then you would never have to see him in college.

Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Jaemin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate. 

Haechan had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Yeonjun as your boyfriend.

But then that begged the question: why did Haechan bother spending his time ridiculing you?

From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.

He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Haechan was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.

He knew when to stop.

Yet when it came to the one instance involving Yeonjun, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?

“Haechan isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

Jaemin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.” 

After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.

“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.” 

“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.” 

You didn’t react nor respond to what Jaemin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.

Jaemin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.

“Why are you thinking about him?”

That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Haechan, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.

“What?”

“Haechan. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Jaemin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”

“Well it’s not because of Haechan, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Jaemin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Jaemin jerked back his arm, making you whine.

“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. As Jaemin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!”

You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Nagyung waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.

She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you. 

“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”

She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.

“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear. 

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”

“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”

“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”

She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Nagyung had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”

The question of who Nagyung liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.

A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Hyunjin or well-known like…Haechan.

“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”

“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”

You knew it.

Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.

“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?

“So you want me to do it?”

“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”

You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.

Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Nagyung back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.

“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Haechan will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”

The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt. 

“What?”

Nagyung tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.

“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”

Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.

“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own. 

When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.

“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.

There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Haechan’s, Nagyung’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own. 

//

With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.

The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jisung, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jisung, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.

But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Haechan like a colleague. That should be easy, right?

As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.

Haechan hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Nagyung wasn’t aware that Haechan was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jisung) would take over. 

Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jisung being there instead of Haechan had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Haechan or Jisung (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.

You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Haechan’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him. 

Covered from head to toe in sweats, Haechan was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown waves peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.

Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.

The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels. 

“Nice try.”

You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Haechan’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.

Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this. 

“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.

Haechan staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching. 

“What do you mean?”

Even if Haechan didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.

“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Hyuck, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”

“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were. 

Haechan barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you. 

“What–?”

“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”

“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”

“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.

“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.

Haechan looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.

Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.

“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”

“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.

“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”

“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.

Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Haechan walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?

The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him. 

As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own. 

You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince. 

After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.

Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting. 

You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.

Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Nagyung behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.

You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.

“It’s okay, Nagyung, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”

“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all. 

“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.

And just like that, she continued running off. 

You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Nagyung had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.

Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.

When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Yeonjun.

Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.

So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.

Of course it was Haechan.

You had Haechan’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.

The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was. 

You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.

Automatically assuming it was Nagyung or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice. 

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.

“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Haechan was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.

When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.

 “What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago. 

“You’re taking too long.”

“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.

And Haechan was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I can do it myself,” you explained. 

“What are you even doing?” 

“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Haechan’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.

“You’re struggling.”

“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.

“Let me do it.”

Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.

“You’re kidding.”

“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”

“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Haechan? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”

Haechan was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.

“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you. 

“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.

“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Haechan in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Haechan you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.

Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Haechan wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.

Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.

“Haechan, I swear—”

“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.” 

Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Yeonjun’s whereabouts, how he knew that Yeonjun was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up. 

You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Yeonjun, at least you would be away from Haechan. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Haechan’s narcissism was insufferable.

By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.

As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Haechan was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Yeonjun standing precisely where Haechan said he was.

Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes. 

“Junnie!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.

Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.

“Hey, baby!”

You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Yeonjun laugh.

“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.

“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.

“Of course I was, baby.” 

You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Yeonjun was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

//

If someone were to inquire Haechan about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not. 

Haechan had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.

Haechan knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in. 

Additionally, Haechan’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Haechan’s devotion to hope for humanity. 

All these traits were what led Haechan up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.

It was safe to say that competition against Lee Haechan was sparse, and you were no different. 

Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.

Except for one thing; your fury.

There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other. 

Haechan had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra. 

Haechan yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most. 

Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.

The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.

It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Haechan would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Yeonjun.

Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Haechan was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low). 

So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Haechan had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.

What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Haechan. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.

He wanted to burn.

Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?

He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night. 

It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jaehyun, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you. 

At this rate, Haechan could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him. 

But with your constant longing for Yeonjun, Haechan made sure that this party would be different.

Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Haechan had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised eyebrows, specifically Jaehyun’s when he first tried urging Haechan with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Haechan informed Mark of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Haechan could get a taste of alcohol.

“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jaehyun exclaimed the instant he found out about Haechan’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.

“That’s what I told him!” Mark projected his voice over the music, giving Haechan a supportive pat on the back.

Haechan rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jaehyun for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Haechan’s face scrunched up at the taste, Mark shoving him lightly with the claim that Haechan was being overdramatic. 

With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Haechan had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Haechan in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Sunwoo and his usual complaints about Haechan partying as a high schooler on a school night. 

After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Haechan excused himself and answered the call.

“Hello?”

With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.

“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you. 

You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.

There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.

“I need a ride.”

Haechan blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.

Your bluntness and suddenty made Haechan malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.

He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare. 

But it was you, and Haechan was willing to risk it.

After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did. 

He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Haechan knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Mark, giving him a pat on the back.

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jaehyun shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.

“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Haechan started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.

“He’s lying,” Mark snorted, taking a swig before bidding Haechan a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"

Haechan ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?

But as much as Haechan hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you. 

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

For a split second, Haechan truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with. 

It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Haechan was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing. 

Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.

You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there. 

In an ideal world, Haechan would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.

He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car. 

Despite how slow his mind was working, Haechan knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.

Without any explanation from you, Haechan refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.

While Haechan attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips. 

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Haechan. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.

You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.

“Drive.”

Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Haechan picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Haechan raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Hyuck.”

The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel. 

You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Haechan’s car).

After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.

It was empty, open, and serene—a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.

Haechan stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.

“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Haechan shook his head.

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.

Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.

“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him. 

You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen. 

Haechan opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.

There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Haechan could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.

Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Haechan had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Haechan had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty. 

His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.

“About Yeonjun and Nagyung.”

Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.

Your voice was delicate, and Haechan knew that with one move, he could break you.

Directing his gaze heavenward, Haechan sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.

But you asked, and as always, Haechan delivered.

“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Haechan was forced to relive it all.

The hallways were empty when Haechan left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Yeonjun’s voice around the corner. 

His footsteps halted, and Haechan caught Yeonjun’s fatal words.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Nagyung’s squeals followed after, and Haechan stood motionless.

At first, Haechan had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye. 

Haechan couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt. 

Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil. 

Then with quick strides, Haechan shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Yeonjun against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Haechan’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.

There wasn’t a second in between Yeonjun’s face of surprise and Haechan’s arm being raised, and before Yeonjun could react, Haechan’s fist had slammed into his jaw. 

It was a blur from there, but Haechan knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Yeonjun’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Haechan gave him.

The fact that Yeonjun managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Haechan wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.

Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend. 

Haechan turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.

You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Haechan over Yeonjun, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Haechan’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.

“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.

“I know, Hyuck.”

Haechan eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.

Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Yeonjun had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Haechan would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—

You laughed.

Haechan snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Haechan to see you vulnerable.

“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”

His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation. 

“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Nagyung just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?

It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth. 

“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”

Haechan sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.

“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Haechan included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?

You always wanted Haechan to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?

And yet, as much as it pained Haechan to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Yeonjun; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay. 

You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.

Haechan got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Haechan could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.

Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever. 

Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.

“Take me,” you whispered, and Haechan’s whole world stopped. 

“...What?” Haechan had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.

Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.

“Please.”

Like a moth to a flame, Haechan admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless. 

You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.

“I want it to hurt, Donghyuck.”

Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Hyuck, and now his actual name. He favored Haechan, but after hearing ‘Donghyuck’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround. 

But Haechan worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.

“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Haechan swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”

Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity. 

But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Yeonjun—that your heart still belonged to him, and Haechan was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?

Especially when he could have you right here, right now. 

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.

“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Yeonjun being better than Haechan. Haechan was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Haechan was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.

“You love me, don’t you?”

His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.

His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.

“You’d do anything for me, Hyuck. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.

He knew better.

“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan. 

He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.

“And I say take advantage of it.”

Haechan dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.

Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement. 

The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Haechan as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.

You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.

When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.

You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more. 

After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Haechan back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.

“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over. 

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Haechan. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity. 

Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.

Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.

You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable. 

Haechan would punch Yeonjun all over again if he could. 

Without a second thought, Haechan ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Yeonjun were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back. 

“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.

“But it’s true, no?”

“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Haechan to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Yeonjun ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Haechan instead of your unknowing boyfriend.

You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Haechan knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Haechan touching you.

The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Haechan didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.

He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Haechan beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.

You wanted to be his downfall. 

Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easily it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.

“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”

“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Haechan into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Haechan, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.

And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.

Haechan didn’t deserve that at all. 

But Haechan was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat. 

Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.

He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.

“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Yeonjun and justify how poorly he treats you?” 

Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Haechan already knew how you were going to respond.

He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.

Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you. 

“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.

“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.

You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.

“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Haechan’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.

But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him. 

When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.

“Did I do this?”

His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly. 

He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.

“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Haechan rolled his eyes.

“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”

“A favor is a stretch—”

Haechan plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.

“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”

He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Haechan finally inserted his fingers inside of you. 

Haechan’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.

“Donghyuck, please,” you begged. 

He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin. 

Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Haechan never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.

“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care. 

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night. 

When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you. 

“Oh-...Oh my god, Hyuck—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were. 

He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name. 

As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Haechan was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Yeonjun ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust. 

“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” 

The mention of Yeonjun had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Haechan seemed to have other plans.

Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”

There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Yeonjun’s name.

And Haechan took no time breaking it from your neck.

Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion. 

“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him. 

“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear. 

“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 

“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Haechan pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 

You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.

“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Haechan explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.

“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 

You wrapped your fingers around Haechan’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.

“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Donghyuck,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.

He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.

“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”

The speed of your hips increased, and Haechan felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.

“You’re jealous, Hyuck. Just admit it.”

You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Haechan managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Haechan was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move. 

With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.

“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Haechan kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.

He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises. 

“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Yeonjun would love it if I sent that video to him.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Haechan was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Haechan released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Haechan inside you. 

“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.

“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.

“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless. 

“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Haechan gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.

“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure. 

Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Haechan’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be. 

He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.

And Haechan showed no signs of stopping.

He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.

Oh, and there was the recording too.

While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.

“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.

You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Haechan seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.

“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?” 

“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Haechan. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Haechan each time. 

Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Yeonjun, yet the rest of your body was meant for Haechan.

“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”

He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.

“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”

Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.

“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”

Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.

Haechan whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.

He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.

“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Haechan’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming. 

Haechan had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was incoming, and you held on tight to his arm.

“D-Dongh- hyuck, I’m—”

“Mine.”

You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Haechan pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.

Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Haechan consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 

“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”

He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — NCT DREAM

© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hey Writers of ATSV, STOP letting White Men off the hook and expecting me to clap.

The fact that Miguel is repeated dehumanized and called an animal even prior to him snapping but George Stacy's scenes are written completely sympathetic towards him -

It doesn't sit right with me. Look at this:

They call Miguel an animal in the opening scenes.

At this point, he's not a threat to anyone but Vulture. In this scene, Miguel is doing exactly what he's supposed to do as Spider-man.

He gets called an animal.

Two pages later it's literal George Stacy holding a gun to his daughters face, and yet it's written completely, 100% sympathetic towards him AND ONLY HIM.

Which like..... Girl... Let me adjust my spectacles because I cannot be reading this right.

He's pointing a loaded gun at his daughter. Gwen is undoubtedly more scared than she's even been in her entire life.

She's confused and desperate, one of our main characters is going through a traumatic event.

The script though? It only cares about George and how he was 'betrayed by his little girl'

As if Gwen isn't her own person.

As if Gwen didn't just save dozens of lives. In a situation where the police could do nothing.

Had Gwen not been there, the police would not have been able to handle Vulture. The threat is subdued - yet he still persists.

It doesn't matter that she just saved multiple lives. It doesn't matter that she's not a threat - or that she's his literal daughter.

What matters is how hard this is for the adult white man with the lethal weapon in his hands.

The scene SHOULD be written from Gwen's point of view. SHE'S the victim.

But no, the white male cop is going through it due to his own emotional incompetency so let's focus on that while calling Miguel an evil animal.

In ATSV both George AND Peter - the two white men in the movie - let Gwen down. They either put her in danger or do nothing as they watch.

George points a gun at her. Peter watches Miguel as he physically assaults Gwen and puts her in the machine, exiling her into homelessness.

Then, he gets to go home to his wife and kids, not even mention to MJ that Gwen and Miles were both assaulted and are now missing. And instead he whines about how he's 'not good at this mentor stuff'.

In ATSV the White Male characters repeatedly fail the people around them with no consequences at all - even from a lot of the audience.

And yeah - Peter Parker is completely neglectful.

To the point it's not okay whatsoever.

I've seen MULTIPLE people say that 'Peter is justified in not helping Gwen during the Go-Home scene. Because Miguel was obviously violent and he's probably scared of him plus he was holding MayDay.'

Which is an excuse that ignores the fact that it's pitiful that GWEN a teenage girl facing homelessness - who is likely weaker than both Peter and Miguel - is more willing to stand up to Miguel than PETER PARKER.

It ignores the fact Miguel would NOT attack a fucking baby. He's a FATHER.

But it's easier to assume the Latino man is a raging, angry, baby killer than to admit the white man is committing neglect.

It baffles me that people will really defend Peter saying 'he was scared - he didn't know what Miguel would do-'

Neither did Gwen. But she still did it.

Because she's a GOOD GUY. Because it mattered to her. Because the people she cared about were getting hurt.

She stood up to Miguel in the face of literal danger and homelessness.

Peter had nothing to lose. He make a joke and shut up when he was told.

Once again: If Gwen and Hobie hadn't come for Peter, we have NO IDEA how long he would've stayed with Miguel. We are given NO INDICATION prior to Gwen's arrival that Peter is actively going to change sides. Or is even really considering it in that moment.

Even in the script Peter shows no remorse or worry for Gwen or Miles at all.

It's as if they don't cross his mind. As if he doesn't care he led Miguel directly to Miles because he forgot he had on a tracking watch. As if what he just witnessed didn't disturb him, as if he isn't worried that Gwen is literally homeless.

All he cares about is him, and his image as mentor.

Like sir, I do not give a DAMN. I might not even give a fuck, if you will.

Shut the fuck up about that mentorship shit 😭😭😭😭 You tryna mentor niggas that's MISSING.

He's like that deadbeat dad that brought you a bike a decade ago at 6 and he still bringing it up asking you why you don't call him 'dad'. Like just because you taught Miles to swing over a year ago doesn't mean you're his mentor mfer. Miles would've learned to swing anyway cause it's literally instinctual and every person bitten eventually learns it by themselves so really Peter wtf 😐

People will scream 'But there's nothing he could do!! Miguel is too scary!!'

One: Peter is one of if not the Spider-person with the most experience. If we assume he was bitten at 18 and he's say 45 now, that's still over 25 years of experience. If he was bitten in high school, that's even more experience.

He has biological powers Miguel doesn't, plus he has years of experience over Miguel - who canonically got his powers as an adult. If anyone in that room can beat Miguel - it's him.

If you're telling me that Peter B. Parker is not only scared of Miguel but he's scared to the point he will not even attempt to question him, even though three people younger than him will - Gwen, Hobie, and Miles - that's pitiful. That's a sad excuse for a Spider-man.

Also He's Spider-Man. The whole point of Spider-man is he fights even if he isn't sure he can win.

Two: At the very least, he can show that he's genuinely concerned for the kids he wants to mentor so bad. But he doesn't even do that. Even bringing them up or saying their names doesn't cross his mind.

But once again, the white male character emotionally neglecting those around him - especially the children who depend on him - and both he are George are either shown as innocent, unwilling to act, or the script is outright sympathetic towards them.

It's easy to call the Latino man an animal but writing a scene in which a white cop is rightfully portrayed as selfish is too hard.

It's easy to call the Latino man a monster but writing Peter Parker as a heroic figure is too hard.

The racism is not just towards Miguel. It's also in the blatant favoritism the white male characters are given.

Both George and Peter actively endanger those around them and at no point do they do something on their own accord that helps anybody but themselves.

Gwen has to go to her father - by force. Gwen has to go to Peter - using Hobie's hard work.

What we NOT GONNA DO is give the white man praise when it's literally the black guy who did all the work.

Fuck - Hobie mentored Gwen TEN TIMES MORE than Peter ever did Miles. Hobie put a roof over Gwen's head and came to get her when no other person would.

Writers, stop trying to make me sympathetic towards the white men who actively hurt the people around them when there's good mentors like Hobie and good parents like Rio and Jeff.

I ain't with the shits'. If anyone is an animal in this script, it's the man who pointed a gun at his daughter.

I guess assaulting and mentally scaring children is only okay if you do it with a firearm? Or if you make this face while doing it 🥺*

(*coupon not available for the melinated)

I changed my mind i don't forgive Peter or George. Miguel who has a whole ass arc of life and death and loss gets called an animal while the white cop with six minutes of screentime gets shown as father of the year while holding a loaded gun to a child girl you must be kidding me

Maybe Gwen would be in a better mood if we let her kick their asses idk 🤷🏾

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

when i think about you, i touch myself

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you & eddie have been friends forever. when he arrives early to your house one day to hang out, he encounters something unexpected.  part 1 of 2.

word count: 2.6k 

warnings: smut, obviously. basically reader touches herself and eddie watches, unbeknownst to her. 

a/n: i don’t know if anything like this has been done yet, so i’m sorry if it has! i have no time to read or see every single fic out there. if you want added to the taglist, let me know! also, this should go without saying, but minors DNI. 

_________________________________

Hanging out with y/n had always been a major highlight for Eddie. The two had been friends since her arrival in Hawkins during Eddie’s second senior year, when she herself had entered her first & only senior cycle. She chose to remain in Hawkins after she graduated, a fact that left Eddie completely baffled. She was smart, she was driven, she could grab the world by the ass if she wanted, so why stay in a shitty town like Hawkins? In any case, though, Eddie was glad that she was still there; it gave him something to look forward to, aside from Hellfire Club and shows with his band.

Weekends belonged mostly to them, unless they had other obligations. She also never missed one of his Tuesday shows, and they always hung out together afterward. They would go to one of their homes–usually hers–where they listened to music, smoked weed, drank beer, and just enjoyed each other’s company. Not only did they have fun every time they were together, but they were each other’s rock. Eddie didn’t have a best friend–hell, he barely had a handful of real friends–but y/n was as close as it got for him. When something good happened, she was the first he went to so they could celebrate together. When he needed to vent, or was angry, or frustrated, she was the first he came to so that she could calm him down; it was something she was damn good at doing. They knew everything about each other–or at least, almost everything. Eddie had a secret, one that he would never dare speak aloud. 

He was in love with her. 

He could even pinpoint the exact moment it happened. It was close to the end of the 1984-85 school year, and that particular day had been terribly rainy. Neither of them had an umbrella or raincoat, and by the time Eddie had driven them to her place, it was coming down like a damn waterfall. Both had become soaked in the short distance from Eddie’s van to her front door, and they had to change into drier clothes right away. She’d put on a long shirt with shorts beneath, and she gave him some oversized clothes that she believed would fit until his own were dry. Once they were toweled off and changed, they sat on the couch to watch a movie before her parents got home. Eddie didn’t even know what the film was, nor could he tell anyone if he tried to remember. y/n had taken to lying against him, cuddling close as he held her in turn. The warmth of her body, the sound of her laughter at the film, feeling her just existing against him as her focus remained on the television…it had been the most beautifully simple thing in the world. It had opened an absolute Pandora’s box of emotions for him, and he fell fucking hard for her.

He could never tell her, though. He knew that someone as beautiful as y/n would never love him in return, nor would she ever want to. How could she, when she was a goddess and he was Eddie Munson? He was a freak, an outcast who drank too much, did too many drugs and dealt even more, was a high school senior at the age of twenty, and played D&D with a group of teenagers. Not only that, but she was always dating someone–in school and out–or gushed over this person or that person, so the feelings were likely unreciprocated. Eddie felt as if he deserved an award for not losing his shit and revealing his true feelings in the process, every damn time someone new entered her picture.

But, little did he know, things would soon change with the most unexpected turn of events.

***

One day, when Eddie and y/n were set to hang out, Eddie was supposed to practice with his band first. To his equal delight and dismay, however, the session was moved to the following day, due to another obligation of a bandmate. So, instead of waiting several hours to go see y/n, he decided to go over a little early and surprise her. He had a pack of beer and a bag of weed with their names written all over it, and was ready to unwind with her. Metallica blasted from the van’s speakers, jazzing him up as he drummed on the steering wheel and sang along. He was having a blast, and by the time he reached y/n’s, he was bursting at the seams with excitement. He wanted to get stoned off his ass, kick his feet up with a beer, and find ways to make her laugh. To him, her laughter was the best music, and he was so happy that he could bring it out of her the way he did.

Eddie pulled in behind her vehicle, killing the engine and getting out with his goods. He discovered that the front door was locked, and found the key in the hiding spot she’d once shown him. He let himself in, looking around at the empty place upon entering. It was eerily quiet, which was confusing to him. She had to be home; her vehicle was parked outside, but it appeared as if no one were there. Worry soon stole over him, and he hastily placed the beer & weed on the nearest surface before frantically searching for her. He was paranoid that something could be terribly wrong, and he knew that he would never relax until he was certain that she was alright. 

He found out where she was soon enough. As he was turning a corner to walk into another room, he heard moaning coming from upstairs. It wasn’t a painful, distressed sound; it was pleasurable, and loud enough that he heard it downstairs. Eddie stopped in his tracks, listening closely to see if he’d been correct. It was silent for what seemed like forever, and Eddie began to doubt what he heard. But then it came again, a little louder than before, and he knew that he was right in the first place. He assumed that the sound was coming from her bedroom, and Eddie couldn’t help but feel jealous at the thought of her with someone else. She wasn’t even his girlfriend, but goddammit, he was desperately in love with the girl. How much longer could he endure seeing her with other people, before it finally broke him or drove him to confess his feelings? The universe was always playing some kind of sick joke on him, but dangling y/n in front of him & then yanking her away had to be the cruelest, by far. 

Eddie listened again, inching up the stairs to get closer to her room. He heard no other voices, and no sounds that indicated she was having sex with someone. He was perplexed, but kept moving, being careful not to make any noise that would alert her. He wanted to see what was going on, and whether she was with someone else or not; he wouldn’t be able to let it go until he knew. He was aware that, while his curiosity would eat him alive if he didn’t investigate, he may not like the answer that he received. He needed it, anyway, and mentally prepared himself for what he could potentially find.

Eddie followed the sounds of her moans to her bedroom door, already feeling like a creep. Her door was open a sizable crack, and he could see through it well enough without having to open it any further and possibly giving himself away. He was relieved to see no one else in the room with her, but y/n was still moaning as she lay upon her bed. A thin blanket covered her lower half, one arm thrown above her head as the other was hidden by the covering. It clicked for Eddie what was going on, and he swallowed thickly as he watched her hand moving under the blanket. She had a shirt on, but no bra, because he could see her nipples clearly poking through the fabric as they hardened. 

While Eddie was completely stunned by the sight, he knew that it was wrong to stay. To do so would not only be such a perverted move, but it would be a complete invasion of her privacy. He reluctantly forced himself to look away, feeling flustered as he turned to leave. He would just have to come back later, at the original time he was supposed to; a few hours wasn’t too bad to wait. But damn, did he really want to stay and watch her, no matter where the hands on his morality compass sat. He had an obligation as a good friend and a decent human being to leave her to her own devices, but seeing her like that? The very girl that he’d thought about in the same way, many times, was touching herself right in front of him; to say that he was torn was a serious understatement. 

Eddie cursed under his breath, and took two steps toward the stairs. That was as far as he got, because he’d frozen dead in his tracks by what he heard next. His big brown eyes only widened, and if he’d still had hold of the stuff he brought with him, it would have dropped to the floor. The same sound came again, and Eddie swivelled on the spot to assure that it wasn’t wishful thinking. But no; it had been clear as day that second time, and then it came a third.

“Eddie!”

His name, coming in the form of a hot moan from inside of her bedroom. The first time, he’d wondered if she had seen him before he had walked away and was simply calling for him. He was in utter disbelief that she would be fantasizing over him to begin with, because why on Earth would she? Eddie did ponder the notion that it could be another Eddie, but did she even know anyone else with that name? His mind turned over every conceivable reason, but y/n did not stop saying the name. Eddie forced himself to walk back to her door, peeking in to see what she was doing. What he saw caused his breath to catch in his throat, and his gaze was immediately glued only to her. 

The blanket was down a little further, barely covering y/n’s lower half. Her fingers were working faster, and Eddie could tell from the placement of her hand that she was most likely rubbing her clit with her middle finger. The arm that was previously above her head was now grabbing at her throat, rubbing her neck before dipping inside of her shirt to grab her breast. Her back arched and her eyes squeezed shut, and she cried out as she began pulling on her nipple. The hand below the blanket slid down further as she toyed with her breast, and she gasped loudly at the sensation. A filthy string of moans escaped her, and Eddie could only assume that she was fingering herself at this point due to her new hand placement. 

Eddie could feel blood rushing to his cock, and he stood rooted in place as he continued to watch. He felt like some sort of disgusting creep, and he didn’t know how he could look her in the eye ever again. At the moment, however, the most rational part of his brain had gone out the window. His jeans were growing tighter by the second due to everything she was doing to herself in there, and his mind was now clouded with lustful judgment. Every stroke of her fingers, every pinch of her nipple, every sound she made, it was driving him absolutely wild. He didn’t think he could ever be more attracted to her, but this whole situation was proving him completely wrong.

“Eddie,” she breathed, her eyes still closed as she massaged her breast. Eddie could see her rolling the hardened bud of her nipple between her fingers, and her head snapped back as she fucked herself even deeper and more rapidly. Her breath quickened, and a lazy smile formed on her lips as she mewled. “Eddie, fuck…”

y/n’s hand shifted to the opposite breast, and he noticed the hitch of her breath when she made contact. Her legs were shaking under the blanket, and her back lifted slightly from the mattress once more. Her hand moved upward after a few minutes, rubbing quick circles on her clit as she began to grow louder & more desperate in volume. It was the hottest fucking thing that Eddie had ever seen, and he felt so dirty for even thinking it. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, and yet there he stood, spying on his best friend while she had a personal moment. It felt like such a violation, but his goddamn never-ending curiosity had forced him to remain there. Not only did he want to watch her masturbate to him, but he had a nagging desire to know what she was thinking. What had gotten her so worked up in the first place? What was she fantasizing about at the moment that had turned her on so much, that she had to get herself off to it? The line he was walking with the whole circumstances was a fine, risky one, but the painful erection he had was demanding he stay until she finished. After that, maybe he could–

No. No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t make himself known and tell her that he’d heard everything. Jesus jumping Christ, what was wrong with him? If he wanted to potentially damage the friendship beyond repair, then of course he could go in there and reveal what he’d done. While the only remaining shred of sense he had was telling him that it was a stupid idea, the horny part of him needed it to happen the other way. Fuck, he wanted her so badly that he ached, and if she rejected him or never spoke to him again, then he would absolutely deserve it. But she was moaning his name; something told him that, while she may be surprised, she would most likely welcome him. Either way, he was prepared, and with a shaky sigh, he turned his full attention back to her. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, her mewls turning more heated as her breathing grew heavier. Her hands worked fast, the quickest that Eddie had seen them so far. “Shit, you feel so fucking good.”

Eddie was unable to stop the grin that formed on his face. He could tell that she was close, and sure enough, it didn’t take her long to cum. The sounds she made as she reached her orgasm were like music to Eddie’s ears, and his cock throbbed in his pants because of it. His name fell repeatedly from her lips, her face twisted in ecstasy as she arched her back, her legs pushing the thin covering further down to expose her mound. Eddie bit the corner of his lip, unzipping his fly to alleviate some of the pressure on his erection. He watched as she came down from her high, blissed out with sweat shining on her skin, her nipples still erect beneath her shirt. Her hands came into view from where they’d been, and Eddie could see the fingers that she’d used on her pussy were glistening. Eddie knew, right then and there, that he was beyond fucked. How could he not go in there, after seeing that? He was ready for anything–rejection, acceptance, anger, surprise, whatever may come. If he didn’t work up the nerve now, after everything that he’d just seen, then he never would. He knew himself well enough to know that much. 

Taking a deep breath and shelving his nerves, Eddie gave y/n a few minutes to regain herself, and then stepped inside of her room.

________________________

itty bitty taglist: @littledemondani @korescomaactuallyaactually @rriverrgrace @dumpsterfireoflove

[butterflydm]

I was skimming the books for fic-research reasons and just had to be baffled all over again at how the Seanchan invasion gets treated CoT-onward. The Kin were the spine of the Wise Women of Ebou Dar, who are, like THE people who are respected by everyone in the city. They all had to try to flee the area because of the Seanchan and any who didn't successfully flee but were Kin (and thus could channel) would have been instantly enslaved by the Seanchan. And yet we have that fucking weirdness in Mat's (fucking weird overall) first chapter in A Memory of Light where the Ebou Dari people are all "lol, why would a brutal invasion bother us in the slightest; we're too super-casual for an invasion to bother us".

I mean, that's all tied into the logistics problems that plagued all things Seanchan-related in the later books (they have infinite soldiers and infinite food & supplies and generally don't have to abide by the economics & logistics that Rand's side is required to follow) but it just really stood out to me because I was reading about how respected the Wise Women are (even in places like the Rahad) -- but the Seanchan's coming would have completely gutted them as a society and that should have an impact on how the Ebou Dari feel about the Seanchan. And it just ties into my overall feeling that Jordan stopped treating the Seanchan realistically starting in CoT and then Sanderson continued the trend when he took over the writing of the books.

But, yeah, one of the big things that I hope for from the prime show is that the Seanchan get treated with narrative consistency and we don't get an abrupt 180 on how the narrative treats them at the two-thirds point. Because what the Ebou Dari should be feeling (and what they were feeling in Winter's Heart!) is a lot of fear and paranoia and the desire to rebel, because the Seanchan are Always Watching and will Randomly Steal and Enslave People for reasons that the non-Seanchan people are not going to understand!

I am really curious about how much Seanchan Presence we're going to have in s3, because s2 made some bold choices in where it went with the Seanchan storyline and I am intensely curious about what kind of follow-up we'll have in s3. I've said a lot in the past that Tuon needs to be introduced sooner than she was in the books (Jordan waited way too late to introduce her! He should also have introduced her while she was still in Seanchan, imo, so that we actually could have seen her interacting with the rest of the Imperial family so that we would have a baseline of Seanchan Imperial Behavior to potentially contrast her against later -- but Tuon feels like another case where Jordan valued the surprise of the wham! line over giving a lot of detail and background) and I would absolutely be a fan of her being introduced in s3.

[zombholic]

HE’S SO LUCKY PT. 3 — abby anderson

summary — warning: do not fall in love with a straight girl, or do you never know.

description — outbreak!abby, poc fem!reader, frenemies, angsty, SMUT MDI, switch!abby, switch!reader, inexperienced abby, comphet!abby, TW MENTION OF OWEN.

authors note — is this what yall wanted 😁🙌🏽 guys i was listening to taylor swift which is why its so dramatic …

The whole way back to base was lingered in silence, tension and anger. You were quick to make your way to your room, grabbing your shower supplies before heading to the the communal showers living in the apocalyptic world didn’t stop you from smelling good, you truly were more worried for your hygiene than the clicker that was attacking you.

Letting the water fall onto you was so blissful, hearing the doors open you opened your eyes only to meet those blue ones you longed for. Rolling your eyes at the blonde you turned to face the shower head, you discreetly watched as she undressed and took her undid her long braid.

Abby’s hair fell to her lower back, you shouldn’t be looking at her like this but my god we don’t call her Abs for nothing. Quickly adverting your eyes you lathered up the soap all over your body.

“Can we please talk.” She broke the silence, all you could do was sigh heavily turning your head to face her now drenched hair and body under the shower.

“While we’re naked? Classy Abs.” You spoke with sarcasm your eyes fighting the urge to lower your eyes from her face to her chest.

“It’s only us in here and I really need to talk to you, please?” She gave you that puppy face that made you melt.

“Speak.” You licked your teeth now shampooing your hair, eyes now shut to avoid it getting in them.

“Ever— ever since you kissed me I’ve been feeling things, at first I thought I was just confused but Y/n I think I have feelings for you?” You felt your heart stop beating for a second only to start racing you swore it was showing through your chest.

Swallowing deeply you licked your lips, rising the shampoo off your hair. Turning your head you looked at her, nervously biting your bottom lip.

“Abby, you’re in love with Owen and I don’t want to be your little experiment.” She was now inching towards you, both of you still completely naked in the showers.

“I don’t love him, Y/nn, I think I love you.” She placed her hands on your waist, looking at you so lovingly it made your stomach churn.

“No, no, we can’t, this is wrong, we are wrong—“ You pushed her hands off your wet body, turning off the water and quickly wrapping your body in your towel.

“You’re just saying that because you realized what I told you earlier was true and now you want to fuck with my head.” You rambled collecting your things, you didn’t know what to feel? You wanted this, you wanted her, you have her why are you pushing her away?

“Y/n, please.” You heard her voice break a little, it ached your heart but you knew she wasn’t over Owen.

Shaking your head you left the showers and made your way to your dorm that you shared with some scientist that you couldn’t even bother to remember her name.

A few days past by after Abby’s love confession you were still very baffled by everything but luckily today you weren’t assigned to go on patrol, you gave Leah your word that you would hangout with her and to be honest you need to talk to someone about what happened and what better person than your best friend.

There you laid on her bed looking at all the polaroids she took, you imagined that in the real world she would’ve been one of those people who took pictures for a living, just can’t get your mind to remember what the word was. You lingered at the picture she took of you and Abby, your names written on the bottom.

Y/n + Abby.

“I need your advice.” You sighed turning your head to look at your friend who was trying to organize her backpack. Her head shot up, tongue poking out meaning she was very concentrated.

“Huh.” She nodded her head, hands now behind her as she leaned back now giving you her attention.

“Abby told me she loved me.” You saw as her eyes widened and jaw dropped.

“When were you gonna tell me this? And isn’t that a good thing? You don’t seem happy about it.” She tilted her head with thousands of questions spilling out.

“I feel like she was just saying that to mess with me cause I told her that Owen doesn’t love her.” You shrugged your shoulder now sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Y/n, you stupid bitch, Abby isn’t like that, she never was and she sure doesn’t just tell anyone that she loves them romantically.” She hit your leg, you scoffed now biting on the edge of your nails.

You two decided to head down to the cafeteria for a quick meal, you just wanted to get Abby off your mind for a second. Grabbing yourself a burrito you guys sat at the table her boyfriend was sat at with his friends, your eyes roamed around the cafeteria a slight part of you wishing Abby was here.

It’s like your wish came true in the worst way, you saw the tall blonde chatting away with her ex. You felt sick to your stomach, she did lie to you, why was she so happy talking to him. Putting the burrito down knowing if you took another bite you would throw up.

Getting up from your seat you walked over to her, she turned her head hearing loud footsteps approaching the side of her only for her eyes to widen like she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“You’re a piece of shit Abby.” You shoved her shoulders hard enough for her back to hit the fall.

“No Y/n, this isn’t what it looks like—“ You couldn’t even let her finish speaking, tears threatening to spill down your face so you shook your head and walked away, back to your room.

You heard her chasing after you, calling out your name from behind you, when you reached the door of your room you turned on your heels to face her, jaw clenched and fist balled up.

“Fuck you, I knew you were lying to me.” You tried to steady your breathing trying so hard not to punch her in the face.

“Oh my god Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you that I love you! I only want you!” She shouted causing you to flinch a little.

“Then prove it Abby, prove that you love me!” The tears now spilling down your cheeks so suddenly it broke her heart.

She cupped your face in her hands, her own tears starting to fall down her face. Leaning down she pressed her lips against your puffy ones, the kiss filled with so much passion you could only deepen it. She was the first to pull away her eyes fluttering open, you looked up at her through your wet lashes, wrapping your arms around her neck you pulled her back into you kissing her deeply.

She opened the door to your room, shutting it behind her as she grabbed the back of your thighs and had you wrap them around her waist, never breaking the kiss. She walked over to your bed gently placing you on your back.

“You’re so beautiful.” She mumbled into the kiss, you swore you could’ve combusted at that.

Her lips leaving yours to trail down your jaw down to your neck, nibbling and sucking until she left your neck freckled with her love bites. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it somewhere on your floor, her hands grabbing the hem of yours repeating the same action done to her.

Her eyes were so soft but her lips were even softer as she kissed down the valley of your chest, fingers snaking behind your bra to unclasp it letting it fall off, she felt like she was in heaven not hesitating to fondle them in her enormous hands.

Her lips connected with your perky nipple, looking up at you with those puppy eyes, your fingers behind her neck pushing her closer.

“More, please.” You let out a breathy sigh, you felt your arousal pooling in your panties.

Her hands came down to your jeans, unbuttoning and pulling them off you along with your panties, she was kneeled down by the edge of your bed as she spread your legs apart. She almost moaned at the sight of your soaked cunt.

“Did I do this baby?” She half joked peppering little kisses around your inner thighs.

“Mhmm.” You nodded sinking your teeth into your bottom lip “Need you Abs.” You whimpered out.

She tossed your legs over her shoulders, trying to go off what pleased her. Her thick fingers parting your cunt watching as your needy pussy clenched at the air. She slipped in her two fingers curling them the way she died for.

“Oh my— fuck Abby.” You whimpered feeling so full with just her fingers.

Her pace quickend the sound of your squelching pussy and her fingers drilling into you made her head fuzzy.

“Like this baby? You like that?” Her eyes never leaving your blissed out face, needing to know you were feeling good.

“Yes baby, keep doing that, makin’ me feel s’good.” You assured her, your fingers gripping onto her hair.

Her lips wrapped around your clit sucking on it causing your legs to shake, mouth forming an O shape as you chanted her name over and over again.

“Abby, Abby fuck I’m gonna cum baby.” You whined your stomach knotting that familiar feeling.

“Cum all over my face pretty girl, give it to me.” She moaned into your pussy sending you over the edge.

Your orgasm hitting you like a thousand bricks, eyes rolling to the back of your head the only thing in your brain was the sound of static. She helped you ride out the intense sensation, slipping her fingers out and sucking on them moaning at the taste of your juices.

“C’mere.” You grabbed her jaw pulling her up to you, smashing your lips against hers, teeth clashing.

You had her lay down on the bed, slipping her cargos off leaving her boy shorts on. Your head leaned against her muscular thigh as your thumb rubbed her clit through her shorts lazily.

“Baby please don’t tease.” Her voice rasped, begging for you to give her what she was aching for.

You hovered your face over her happy trail, tongue tracing down the line before leaving kissing along her v-line. Your fingers hooked onto her panties slipping them off, seeing how her pussy was basically drooling for you.

“Such a pretty girl, pretty pussy.” Your arms hooked under her thighs fingers digging into her flesh.

Your tongue lapped up her cunt, savoring her taste like it was the last meal on earth. Her fingers were quick to grab your hair, you sucked on her puffy pink clit, your tongue sliding into her cunt eating her like your life depended on it.

“Baby, fuck you’re fuckin me so good.” She grunted out riding her clit on your nose, the smell of her made you feral.

The room was filled with the most pornographic noises and the smell of sex. Her moans were getting needier, louder, god if it was possible you snuck your tongue in deeper inside of her.

“Cummin, m’cumming baby.” The grip she had on your hair tightened so good, you felt her cum seep down your chin causing you to suck up all her juices making her cry out feeling overstimulated.

“Fuck I love you Anderson.” You giggled wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

[freak-accident419]

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: On a chilly December night, you and Billy catch up. Then, you make an important decision.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, cursing, alcohol, mention of holidays (gift giving), slight suggestive comment

(A/n: thank you to everyone for all your support for this short multiple-part fic! It means so much to me! I hope I did its finale justice :) also credit to the person who suggested a bar scene !)

-

You watched him take a short sip of his beer as you fidgeted with your bottle.

You two agreed that you would catch up at this bar at the corner of the street when you were done with your shift. It has only been a few weeks since you’ve last seen him, but it felt like forever to you, hence the slight awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“So… did you pay off your debt…?” You ask hesitantly, continuing to fidget with the beer bottle in front of you. You finally looked at him, observing his brown eyes softening at the sight of you. The right side of his face was still scarred by the second-degree burn that hot coffee gave him. But you’ve only ever seen him like this, and so, to you, he still looked as handsome as he was since you last saw him.

“Yeah, I… I paid them off,” he answered bluntly.

“And the thing with the bikers? Are you… on good terms with them now?”

In response, he let out a scoff and a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ugh, dude, what did you do?” You say with exasperation, though amused by his lighthearted manner.

“They wanted the money, but, um… They all sort of… still hate me, so… those assholes gave me a warning: if they see my face again, they’ll kill me, so…” He trails off, taking a fairly tame swig of alcohol before he continues. You noticed that he seemed calmer since you’ve last seen him. As if he worked on himself, his temper, and spontaneous vulgarity. You admired that. “I’m gonna have to go. Unwillingly leave town, you know.”

“Damn,” you mutter, briefly sipping your drink. “That was your initial plan anyways though, right? To, like, just leave this place?”

He let out a soft sigh, which slightly puzzled you. Why did he seem so disappointed?

“Before I was on my way to meet up with them, I just… I got the idea that maybe I just shouldn’t leave. I thought that, um… leaving someplace that’s, uh… desirable… would be a very idiotic thing for me to do,” he explains, only baffling you even more.

“Okay? But you said it yourself, after you paid them off, you wanted to leave town and start anew, have a fresh start. What makes Upstate New York so… great, I guess, that you don’t want to leave?” You inquire with a lighthearted chuckle.

He fidgets with his beer bottle anxiously before looking back at you to answer. “You…”

You were stunned. You opened your mouth slightly to respond, but no words came out. You didn’t know him too well—but after an hour of being stuck together, you knew him enough, at the very least. But why did you have such an impact on him? You guessed that you had an indubitable liking for him too—similar to a childlike crush, though fueled solely by shared trauma. But you never really thought of it that much until now.

“Billy, I…” you stuttered out. “I… I mean… You had a whole plan, I… I just don’t understand. I like you, Billy, but… why should I be the reason you would want to stay here? You don’t really know me…”

“Well…” He wanted to argue that you two already learned a lot about each other from the time you’ve spent together, but even he realized it would be faulty reasoning. “Fuck, I want to get to know you better, then,” he urged gently.

He looked down at your hands, which were on the table near your drink. He reached his hands towards yours hesitantly, giving you a look by the raise of his eyebrows that asked for your permission. You nodded, watching him finally grab your hands, observing your one wrist, in which the bruise from the zip tie was completely gone. He tenderly rubbed his thumb over your wrists and palms. You felt the warm metal of his ring run against your skin as he would move his index finger. The slightly red dent on his wrist that you last saw on the day you escaped had also disappeared entirely. So it seemed like the only thing that followed him—the only thing that haunted him ever since the gas station, was his burn scar.

“I just…” he began, continuing to look down at your hands as he caressed them. It was something he did a lot, you noticed. You think it calmed him down. “I don’t know why I’m so… pulled to you. It’s fucking stupid, I know, and I’ve probably sounded like a dumbass this entire time, but… I mean it when I say I want to get to know you.”

You stared down at your hands in his, unsure of how you felt. “Well… The bikers, they said that they were gonna kill you if they see your face again. That’s, like… implying they want you out of town. You have to go, Billy. You can’t, shit, risk your life for me.”

“That’s why I want you to run away with me,” he urged softly.

“Billy—”

“I want you to come with me,” he pleads. In his mind, Billy thought it was quite ironic how he wanted you to go with him so badly; he rejected Melinda almost immediately when she asked to go with him. But this was different. You weren’t Melinda. You were you. And he desperately wanted to leave with you. But there seemed to be no way for that to happen.

“Billy, we already talked about this. I… I can’t just leave everything I have here behind,” you reason. “Plus, it’s been weeks ever since I last saw you. You had all this time to come see me, where have you been?”

He pursed his lips. “After the bikers gave me a few ‘friendly’ warning shots, I sort of left immediately. I just kept going west. Stayed in a couple motels. But it just… felt wrong, you know? I felt empty and… fuck, out of place… So, I guess I just… came back here to see you one more time…” he confessed, making your heart beat faster and face warmer. Nobody has ever done this grand of a gesture for you. You almost felt bad. You had made a deep connection with him back at the gas station, and suddenly you were worth a lot to him. “Shit, I… I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to, because I knew it would be… really fucking bad if I tried to come back, but… You were always on my mind. Every second, I… thought about your laughter, and your voice, and I didn’t want to forget it. And-and most of all, you saved my life.” You frowned, because you considered it as a team effort, rather. “Something finally good in my life, for the first fucking time, happened to me and I can’t just—just stand by and let it just leave while I could do something about it.”

You were surprised, to say the least. You never knew you could be this important to someone, let alone someone you’ve only been around with for less than a day. “Billy, I—” You stammered with fluster. “I have to admit, I thought about you multiple times ever since. I sort of always wished I’d run into you whenever I went to a gas station. I think I even dreamed about you multiple times… To be honest, I always thought what would’ve happened if I said yes before and left with you.” He felt your thumb trace delicately along the back of his hand. “Never thought I’d ever think of a gas station robber as handsome and charming.” He chuckled softly in response, his lips forming into a cute, flattered smile.

“I love that you’re here, really. I love that you came back to see me,” You told him. “But… like I said, I can’t come with you.” You would love to, however, you knew it. But you couldn’t just leave everything you had here behind… Could you?

He sighed softly. “Okay, I understand,” he says. “But shit, just… Let me get to know you better before I have to leave for sure. Please. How about I just take you for a drive, then? Just around the block?”

Billy was heavily insistent. After all, he always goes for what he wants.

“The both of us have been drinking, Billy,” you say with guilt. You hated constantly rejecting him. You did want to get to know him better, you did want to spend time with him, but the circumstances and motives were utterly complicated.

You chuckled a bit, however, sort of amused by how much he wanted to be around you. “I don’t know, you can’t just, like… enjoy the moment right now?” You ask as you two look back down at your hands, which were being gently rubbed against each other, Billy’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“I don’t know if that’s gonna be enough for me, Y/n,” he claimed dejectedly.

“Why don’t we just take a walk, then? To, like, the nearest park or something,” you offer, feeling his warm fingertips glide softly over your nails. “We could… We could do that.”

After thinking about it for a second, he nodded compliantly.

***

It was supposed to be dark outside, however the street lamps nearby and string lights across buildings liberally illuminated the area. It has been probably half an hour since you two sat down on a park bench, just speaking to each other with occasional banter. That was probably the strongest thing you had with him: communication. Just talking about random things that led to discovering more things about one another. You’d done that while you were tied up together after all. It was how you mainly connected in that moment.

That was another thing, however. You weren’t forced in proximity anymore, but you two still wanted more of each other. Even if you didn’t show it. Your rejection did quite a number on Billy’s belief that his feelings were reciprocated, but as you two proceeded to laugh and talk together, it was reinforced.

“Okay… Quentin Tarantino.” You raise an eyebrow, grinning as you watched your warm breath escape your lips in a hazy, white mist.

“Damn. That one foot fetish guy?” he laughed.

“Yeah, the—the foot fetish guy,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, easy, Pulp Fiction,” he answered. Met with your silence, he looked at you and you shook your head, smiling. “No?”

“No, I wouldn’t make it that obvious—”

“Kill Bill.”

“N—”

“Volume one or two?” You grin as he continued to guess wrong in your game. “Seriously, none of those?”

“From Dusk Til Dawn?” He nearly pouted, it was adorable. “I give up.”

“Jackie Brown. C’mon, man,” you snicker.

He playfully rolled his eyes, scoffing, making you giggle.

This was something you two did back at Paradise Pumps as well, while tied up and exhausted. You made a little game where you basically had to think of a movie and the other had to guess it by only knowing the name of its director.

He smiles softly as he looks at you, but then it gradually dropped, as the recurring thought that he would never see you again invaded his mind once more.

“You good?” You ask reluctantly, seeing his facial expression change.

“Yeah, I just…”

“You don’t want to leave me?” You finish his sentence with a sigh, seeing him nod in response. “It’s not so bad, Billy. You could leave, settle down, start a new life and leave behind all that crime and… biker gang beef,” you offer a small laugh before you continue.

“You could find somebody who is worthier than me. Someone who you didn’t bond with through shared trauma and forced proximity. Someone who would leave everything behind just for you, unlike me.” You wish you could, honestly. What was really stopping you? Fear? Guilt?

Billy scoffs as he listened to your statements, deeming them as bullshit. “Y/n, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” Your eyebrows raise in bewilderment. “I don’t want someone else, okay? I want you... Just you.”

Your heart nearly stopped and you looked at him with sole adoration for him.

And you had no idea what came over you in this moment, because once you heard him say this, you immediately pressed your lips to his, while hesitantly bringing your hands up to his face to gently hold it.

You heard his breath hitch as he soon melts into the kiss, moving his lips with yours and holding onto your wrists. His lips were soft and warm, and he was being nothing but gentle with you. You felt the the tender skin of his burn against your fingertips, your delicate and careful touch soothing him.

You weren’t sure what kind of confidence boost let you do something so impulsive as kissing someone. But the entire night, Billy had been relentlessly winning over your heart, expressing his immense admiration for you. You fell for him. And you had to do something about that.

“Fuck, you know, that…” he began hoarsely once your lips have separated, yet your faces were still very close to each other, switching back and forth from looking deeply into one’s eyes to their lips. “That was fucking evil. That just made it even harder for me to leave you,” he stressed as you two let out small, quiet chuckles.

He convinced you enough, you thought. What did you really have to lose…?

Or, rather, what would you gain?

“You don’t have to,” your voice was slightly raspy as you spoke with a smirk.

And what you would say next had marked your decision. “I’m coming with you, cowboy.”

He parted his lips in shock, so before he could say anything, you just kissed him again, deeply and affectionately, as you couldn’t help but smile in the kiss. You felt him pull you closer by the waist in a fairly strong grip, as if you were to disappear if he let you go. It was a sweet and affectionate kiss, the two of you expressing your admiration and fondness for each other. It was supposed to be cold, hell, it was December in New York. But you couldn’t help but feel pure warmth each second your kiss remained.

*** Two Weeks Later ***

“Open it,” you giggle softly.

“Seriously, when did you get the time to wrap a whole ass gift when we’ve been, like, on the road together this whole time?” Billy says with a smile as he examines the thin, neatly wrapped box in his hands.

“I found a service. While you were preoccupied. Now shut up. Happy Holidays. Open the damn thing.”

It’s been about two weeks since you agreed with leaving with him. After resigning from your job, you basically packed your bags and savings and he picked you up. You two didn’t face any problems so far as you traveled east. You only had an increased admiration for each other, as well as mutual understandings.

Now, you were in an empty parking lot, keeping warm inside the car during the evening. You surprised him with a wrapped gift for the holidays.

You watched him rip off the wrapping paper, making you involuntarily laugh as you saw his expression of disbelief, represented by his playful scoff and the rolling of his eyes.

‘Never Get Angry Again: The Foolproof Way to Stay Calm and in Control in Any Conversation or Situation’ by David J. Lieberman, PhD

He raised his eyebrows as he read over the cover of the anger management book and presented it to you. “Seriously?”

You snicker impishly as you see an amused smile creep at the corner of his lips. “Told you I would, didn’t I?”

“You are terrible,” Billy joked endearingly with a low chuckle.

“I know,” you retort cunningly, reaching over the center console of the car to give him a soft peck on the lips.

“But you have to admit, Y/n, I have been working on myself ever since,” he points out, making you scoff.

“Yeah, but you totally lashed out on that one guy when we were at that convenience store in Pittsburgh,” you insist.

“Okay, well, in my defense, I really didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he shrugged with a knowing grin.

“Damn, should I have gotten you a book on jealousy as well?” you sneer.

“Hey, watch it,” he warned playfully.

“You know what, yeah, you’re right. I digress,” you concur nonchalantly. “If it weren’t for him getting an intense reaction out of you, then you wouldn’t have taken me straight to the bathroom and—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he chuckled softly as you laughed at your own delivery. “Just…” He reached in the back, grabbing a brown box that was sealed with clear tape. “Open your gift. Sorry I didn’t have the time to wrap it, like, I still have no idea how you had the time to do it behind my back, but yeah.”

He handed you his keys so you could rip the tape, then you opened the box, being met with styrofoam packaging. You removed the top layer, and then let out a small gasp as you saw the object, taking it in your hands.

It was a small Albany, New York snow globe. You were beaming as you shook it, watching the “snow” fall down on the capitol building.

“I thought you’d be homesick, so I snatched it right before we left,” he explained, smiling as he sees your reaction.

“Oh my god, Billy, it’s perfect,” you say in awe, then reach over the center console again to hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you. “Thank you so much,” you say, kissing him deeply on his lips.

“‘F course, Y/n,” he mumbled sweetly, affectionately returning your kisses.

“You’re perfect,” you nearly whispered as you set the snow globe back in the box so your hands were free to hold his face. He always loved when you would do that. It brought a sort of comfort to him, making him feel safe and secure. He leaned into your touch as you kissed the right side of his face—his forehead and cheek—which were the areas that had been mildly burnt.

“Even when I robbed a gas station?” He asked under his breath, raising an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

He always had a problem with being defined and associated with criminality, so you found it quite ironic for him to point it out.

“I’m fucking with you.”

You shove him playfully, which only resulted in him bringing you into an intense, deep kiss. “You are so perfect too, you know that?” He mutters softly. “I’m so fucking glad you came with me.” He artfully grabbed your hand and looked at you intimately as he pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist—the one that was zip tied to his. The one where the bruise on it had now been fully healed and gone.

“Me too,” you murmur ardently.

[slayfics]

Explosive Tendencies a slow but fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter five: the test exercises are finally here.

Chapter links

With the written tests completed, the test exercise was finally commencing. It was revealed that the test exercise was for two students to go up against one of the U.A. teachers.

Katsuki had stormed off practically as soon as he was told his partner was Izuku. You watched as he walked off and Izuku's face fell. It was clear Izuku would have liked to strategize with him especially given that they were paired against All Might.

You weren't exactly shocked that even those circumstances didn't persuade Katsuki to talk to Izuku. The rest of the class seemed to just pass off Katsuki as hating Izuku and being a bully, which wasn't exactly wrong. However, it was painfully obvious to you that things ran even deeper than that.

Katsuki didn't just simply hate Izuku, there was something about Izuku that triggered Katsuki's own insecurities. As if Izuku being a good hero would make Katsuki less of one. You couldn't really understand why though. What was it about Izuku that triggered those insecurities so deeply with Katsuki?

Even more, it baffled you that Katsuki clearly had so much he wanted to prove to himself. He was already an amazing hero and you all had only been at U.A. for just a few months. Could he not see how everyone else looked at him in awe? Sure fear and disdain too, but the admiration and passion he sparked in everyone else by far outweighed the negatives.

After strategizing with your own partner you decided to walk over to check on him.

"How are you doing?" You asked, approaching Katsuki.

"How the hell do you think? Out of everyone I could have been paired with I get stuck with that fucking loser," He barked, still agitated at the pairing.

"Yeah, I figured you'd say something like that," You laughed.

"Then why even bother coming over to annoy me?" He asked.

You tried to ignore his signature attitude and get to the point before he stormed off again.

"Well, Aizawa said they picked these match-ups for various reasons. Including interpersonal relationships. I think there's a clear reason they paired you with Midoriya. They want to see if you both can push aside whatever this bad blood is for the sake of taking down a villain. As much as you hate it, imagine if you and Midoriya did have to work together on a mission as pros one day."

"Don't you think I figured that shit out already? I'm not dumb."

"Then what are you doing sitting here and not strategizing with him? You two have the toughest teacher," You responded.

"I'm going to show them that I don't need to work with that nerd ever. I'll take care of it myself," He grumbled.

"You'll take care of All Might... by yourself. I thought you just said you weren't dumb?" You replied, pushing out the rest of his patience.

"I said I'd handle it! Why the fuck are you here trying to help me anyway," He yelled and shoulder-checked you as he left. Even though he'd never admit it, he knew you were right, but it was going to take a beat down from All Might before he'd admit it to himself.

Inevitably, the match between the two boys and All Might had left them in bad condition. You couldn't help but feel a bit proud of Katsuki while watching the match. Even though it pained him he did work with Izuku in the test even letting him use one of his gauntlets. This of course only happened after he tried to take on All Might single-handedly with no success. However, you knew how hard that was for him and after seeing how fiercely he fought in the exercise you felt you had to visit him.

A few other students were crowded around Recovery Girl's door waiting to hear about others who had gotten hurt in their matches. You sat on the floor while you waited for Recovery Girl to come out and announce it was okay for everyone to come in and visit Katsuki and Izuku.

The hall was filled with echoing voices of students talking about their own matches mixed in with anxious comments about those who were hurt. You noticed quite a few students were here to see Izuku. Finally, Recover Girl came out announcing that Izuku was awake and well enough to have visitors, however, Katsuki was still knocked out and not likely to wake up for a while. At that news, you grabbed your stuff and left. A few classmates noticed your swift exit but didn't call after you, as they were too anxious to get in and talk to Izuku.

Some time later you decided to try and visit him again. This time you found he was awake and able to have visitors.

"You look like crap," You said walking next to his bed.

"You came here just to tell me that?"

"No, I came to say... that I'm proud of you. I know it wasn't easy for you to work as a team with Midoryia but you did it," You replied. Katsuki's face scrunched up and he seemed to wince internally at your comment.

"Shut the hell up I don't want to hear that shit from you. Just go back to saying I look like crap or get out," He said, turning his gaze from you to the ceiling.

You couldn't help but laugh. Even though he had done it and overcame his pride for just a bit to work with Izuku his resentment toward him was not letting up.

"Well, you do look like crap. All Might beat the shit out of you... but you weren't ever going to give up and that's pretty admirable. Glad you're feeling better," You said and left the room.

Katsuki’s eyes widened at your short-lived praise. It was praise that came with no judgment attached, unlike the feedback he had gotten since starting U.A. You didn’t tell him anything he did wrong or could have done differently. You didn’t berate him for not getting over his pride sooner or being too mean. You only focused on the positives and that wasn’t something he or anyone else around him did.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @anon-mouse233 @maddietries

[onehundredflamingos]

2 / fire / 512 words

@jegulus-microfic

I forgot to post this on the second, oops

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me, James?” Regulus asked from across the table, not bothering to look up from the newspaper he was reading.

James swallowed hard, not realizing how obvious he was about it — that regulus could sense his gaze.

“You’re just pretty, is all,” James said, and he tried to say it in jest, like he was teasing Regulus, but it came out in a whisper. Something reverent and adoring, and that was not what he intended.

Regulus hummed, finally looking up at James. “Is that why you watched me take every bite of my breakfast this morning?”

James felt his face flush, again unaware at how obvious he had been. He nodded his head weakly, clearing his throat. “Pretty mouth,” he said stupidly.

Really stupidly, because who the fuck would say something like that?

“You think so?” Regulus asked, pushing the newspaper away from himself. “Do you want to kiss me, James?”

Yes.

Absolutely, yes.

“What?” James asked instead, a bit baffled by the question, if he was being honest.

“Do you want to keep staring at my pretty mouth, or do you want to kiss me?”

Regulus looked expectant, so James stood up and made his way around the table, willing this not to be some kind of trick.

Trusting that Regulus wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want it too.

The second James was standing in front of Regulus, he dipped down and pressed a kiss to his lips, something soft and gentle in a way that completely betrayed how hungry the touch made him.

James made to pull away, respectful in spite of himself, but Regulus was deepening the kiss, pressing his lips more firmly against James’ and holding him in place.

The intensity sent fire through James’ veins, want coursing through him instantly at the press of Regulus’ tongue against his own, before the feel of Regulus’ hand on his chest sent him back a few inches.

James reluctantly pulled back and looked at Regulus, unsure about what was happening, unhappy about the distance.

“Now leave me to read the paper,” Regulus huffed, reaching for the newspaper on the table once more, but James knew now that the desire wasn’t one sided. That his pining wasn’t in vain as he had always thought.

James placed a hand atop the newspaper, tutting softly as he continued to look over at Regulus. “I think you want my pretty mouth just as badly,” James said, grinning.

“Is that so?” Regulus asked, looking down at James’ mouth. One side of his mouth was tipped up in a secret smile, and James knew he wouldn’t turn his proposition down.

“Do you want to keep staring at my pretty mouth, or do you want to kiss me?” James asked, throwing Regulus words back at him.

Regulus let a soft laugh slip past his lips, one that James was immediately diving in and capturing with his own, content to spend the entirety of the morning doing just that.

Regulus seemed to have no qualms about doing just that, newspaper be damned.

[fandomxpreferences]

Green Eyed Monster

Pairing: Rooster x Reader

TW: swearing, mentions of violence

Summary: Someone at the Hard Deck gets a little too friendly with Rooster and chaos ensues.

You’re leaning on a pool cue talking to phoenix when you look over and see it. Bradley went to get more drinks but has apparently been sidetracked. He’s in the middle of a conversation with some redhead and looking a little too cozy. You trust him, but her? Not so much. You scowl as you watch her twirl her hair and place a hand on his bicep.

Phoenix notices your expression and looks to see what’s causing it. She sips her beer with an amused smirk before letting out a low laugh. “You gonna do something or just send a death glare while she tries to fuck your boyfriend?” She asks.

She knows she pouring kerosene on a fire but the night has been fairly uneventful and a little drama can’t hurt.

She watches your muscles flex as you almost shatter the beer bottle in your hand. “I shouldn’t. Should I? I trust him.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing wrong with staking your claim. Doesn’t mean you don’t trust him. “

Before you can give it anymore thought you see her trail her hand down his chest and rest it on his abs, batting her eyes lashes. She just sealed her fate.

You don’t notice Bradley remove her hand or put distance between them as you make your way towards them. The green eyed monster was already out to kill and you had tunnel vision.

You snake your arm around Bradley and give him a sweet smile. To the untrained eye, the interaction was normal. But Bradley would recognize that glint in your eye a mile away. He knew what you were up to and couldn’t help but give you a small shit eating grin.

You see the girl size you up from the corner of your eye before scoffing. “Um, who is this bitch?” She asks in a high pitched whiny voice. Bradley sees the shift in your demeanor at being blatantly disrespected. What was an innocent display of jealousy had just become very, very real.

Your eyes darken as your turn your body to fully face her. You stand to your full height and bring your shoulders back. She’s about the same size as you, but you can tell you’re stronger. Not to mention your training from the Navy. You know you easily have the upper hand. She doesn’t seem to take the message from your body language, giving you a dirty look.

“Who am I? Who the fuck are you?” Your tone is laced with venom.

Her mouth drops open and she looks to Bradley.“Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?” She asks completely oblivious to the rising tension.

“Yea, Bradley are you gonna let me talk to her like that?” You ask with a mocking voice.

Bradley knows it’s a rhetorical question, and keeps his mouth shut. He fights the smirk threatening to break out at your sarcasm. He almost feels bad for the unsuspecting girl but a bigger part of him loves this. He thinks its sexy when you get jealous and possessive. He cant wait to hear what you say next.

“Maybe you should go away, we were busy talking. He’s not interested.” She puffs up and Bradley tenses. He hadn’t expected that. She mistook his silence as him taking her side.

Your jaw clenches and Bradley notices the muscles on your arm twitch as you open and close your fist. If she wants a fight she can have one.

Your annoyance is now anger and you’re about to show your ass. You go to move towards the girl as you growl out “ Maybe you should watch your mouth before you’re picking your fucking teeth up off-“ you’re cut short as Bradley wraps his arms around you and pulls you back.

He’s seen this before and he’s only made the mistake of thinking you were bluffing once. “Okay tiger, that’s enough.” He doesn’t spare the girl a second glance as he pulls you toward the rest of the group. You let him guide you until you hear her baffled voice say “He’s choosing her? Is he blind?”

Bradley’s glad he has a firm grip because had he let up at all, you would’ve broken free as you whip around and try to lunge. You’re stronger than you look and it’s only amplified by your rage and adrenaline. He’s struggling to contain your thrashing form when Phoenix and Hangman come rushing to help.

They had been laughing at the altercation from the sidelines but quickly prepared to intervene when they noticed the girl square her shoulders. They had seen first hand what happens when someone challenges you, especially over Rooster.

Last time it had been a grown man with at least 6 inches and 75 lbs advantage over you. You hadn’t hesitated to swing your fist up and split his cheek open. He ended up needing 12 stitches. If you could do that, they didn’t want to imagine what you could do to someone your own size.

You feel Hangman’s hands grab your kicking legs as Rooster contains you by wrapping his broad arms around your upper half. The men work together to carry you to the back as Phoenix kicks the girl out.

Penny had seen the whole thing unfold and slipped the Hangman the key to the back room as he was approaching the scene. Rooster was thankful because he’s fairly certain you would’ve followed the girl to the parking lot.

Once they get you seated, you grumble and cross your arms. Jake turns to Bradley, not letting you go yet. “Are you gonna be okay or do you need me to stay?”

Bradley makes eye contact with you, silently asking if you’re going to behave. You huff and look away, and he knows you’re not going to try anything. “I’m good man. Thanks.” He says not bothering to look his way.

Jake stands to leave and lets out a “Anytime.” Before shutting the door behind him.

Bradley sighs before kneeling in front of you. You still don’t look his way as he begins to speak. “You can’t just fight everyone that pisses you off, Y/N. One day you’re gonna meet your match.”

You finally look over at him with a deadpan expression. “Haven’t met them yet.” You say with a little too much attitude. Rooster gives you a glare and you know you’re pushing it too far. Your features soften and you let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I know you worry but when it comes to you, I just see green. And then usually red. You know you’d go to bat for me anyday too.” You say with a shy smile.

He smiles back before agreeing. “ I know. And I’m always going to have your back. I’ll kick the shit out of someone if I need to. I’d just prefer not to if it’s not absolutely necessary. Don’t go picking fights just because you’ve got a personal security guard.”

You giggle and throw your hands up in surrender. “Fine, that’s fair. Can we go rejoin our friends and enjoy the rest of our evening?” You ask with a pout. Bradley grabs your hand to pull you up and gives you another bright smile. “Of course pretty girl.”

He’s got his arm around your shoulders walking back when he hears you speak. “I totally would’ve kicked her ass.” He lets out a loud laugh before pulling you close to kiss your head. “No doubt, baby. No doubt.”

[pedge-page]

Okay but pls feel free to ignore this I'm not creative but I love your writing

But I have an elderly sphynx (cat) and he's the love of my life, he gets cold so he wears jumpers and hats, and wants to be inside my clothes for warmth and is just an absolute baby, and sleep in my arms/in my hood honestly 24/7. He's like a small person he's so needy.

I can picture Joel getting home and pregnant reader has acquired one from someone, and the cat is her "practice" baby and she dresses him up and absolutely spoils him and carries him everywhere and Joel is just so baffled by what on earth is going on. BUT CANT QUESTION IT BECAUSE READER IS A MEANIE (as she should be) (mother knows best)

🩷🩷🩷

Sphinx cats are so cute oh my gosh!!! She would love him so much, subconsciously because she'd think it's like a little Joel when he would shave and be like "smooth—hairless—baby man" (which is subsequently the last he shaved fully).

Also can't believe youre gonna give such cute imagery but not even show us with a pic ugh devastating but ALAS. Here's how it would go:

- - - -

When Joel comes home, he usually expects one of two things: you're sleeping on the couch with some mixed fruit jelly smeared all over your mouth and between your tits, or you're throwing a plastic cup (because he pre-baby-proofed the house to avoid having any dangerous objects in YOUR grasp) at his head for opening the door the "wrong way" (how does one open a single sided hinged door the wrong way? He's still trying to figure it out).

So when he walks in the front door and hears excited little peeps from you from the bedroom, he's a little weary.

It's not till he's tossing his keys on the counter and hearing you say "you're such a handsome man" that Joel's heart stops.

There's no way. You wouldn't. Not now, not so fucking pregnant with his baby—

Oh fuck. Was it his baby? Or was it this "handsome man" in HIS house with HIS wife, canoodling in HIS bed!??

And how long? How long has this affair been going on under his roof? The entire time you'd be angry at Joel during your pregnancy, maybe you meant it? Maybe you were done with him, seeking something new and exciting?

When Joel finally rounds the corner, just one step away from the doorway, listening to your giddy gasps and rustling clothes, he doesn't know if he can bring himself to find out. Can only imagine a million things he's going to see, all of which are too painful to conceptualize.

He hears your excited giggles, closes his eyes, braces his heart, and walking in.

It takes him a second to register what he's looking at: there's no other man in here, but rather something tucked up in one of his old high school hoodies that you're wearing, backwards, with the hood hanging against your chest.

Then there's something moving in it, and he's almost scared you may have already had the baby and are suffocating it in the hood, though your belly is still very much full, so what—?

"Joel!" You shout, looking petrified as if you're caught in a scheme.

Before Joel can even speak up to ask what's going on, you're pulling what is possibly (from Joel's perspective, mind you) the ugliest pink squirmy ballsack out of his hoodie, complete with a skiny pale rat tail, big marble eyes and pointed ears.

"Meet Ramses!"

He drops his backpack at the door and stares. "What. Is that."

"I literally JUST said his name is Ramses." you scold, kissing the—thing— on the wrinkly folds of its forehead.

It starts purring affectionately, and it clicks.

"That's a CAT?" Joel shouts.

You can feel the poor thing curls up against you with tension at his booming voice.

Joel, please, lower your voice—"

"Where's its fur? No wait, why is it here? How did you get a cat? Who's cat is it? WHY do you have it??"

"Well Deanna next door had a family emergency in Connecticut and they had to fly out this morning, so I agreed we'd watch Ramses until they got back."

"Why is it naked? What did you DO to it?" Fucking hell, Deanna and George are going to have a field day to find you'd shaved their pet literally within 24 hours—

"That's the way it is. Never seen a sphinx cat before?"

Hes not really listening at this point. Joels heart rate had finally caught up with him as he kind of breathes a sigh of relief.

A cat. He thought you were having an affair with a cat.

"Isn't he sooooo cute!!!" You squeal with little jumpy feet.

But it's not cute. Not with the way it's looking at Joel, with its slitted murderous eyes and pointed claws clinging to you while it hisses at him.

"Why is it in my hoodie?"

"He's cold, damnit Joel even YOU noticed he's naked. Poor handsome baby needs all kinds of love, and sweaters, and warmth and—"

The little sucker is just eating it up, as you babble on about getting it jumpers, and baby socks, and cutting all of Joels sweaters up so it can rest on top of your belly, and a spot for it in the bed—

"The BED? NO. No ballsacks in the bed."

"He's SO much cuter than your HAIRY ballsack, Joel, which as far as tonight, can agree to those terms and sleep on the couch." You scoff him and hold Ramses to your chest, scratching his ears and kissing him as you shove past your husband.

-

Joel doesn't know what to do. Its one thing to agree to feed a cat every so often for a friend while they're out. It's something else entirely to be doing... what you've been doing.

There's a new amazon box in every hour with custom knitted cat sweaters and hats and ear muffs that you've gone off the reservation with just "needing" to keep warm, now full blown getting an outfit for every occasion. He hears you talking to it like a person, using a baby voice to tell him how handsome he looks, "like a wittle baby pharoh". Joel is tripping over all the cans of luxirous cat food youve been "testing" to find his desired taste. The man can't even get cuddles with you anymore because you're so god damn obsessed with swaddling Ramses in your clothes and softest blankets.

And it KNOWS. The damn cat KNOWS you've completely ignored your ever doting and pampering husband for it—while it does NOTHING but absorb your affection. You've craddled it against your every exposed piece of skin from sleeping across your neck to letting it rest atop your bump. Each time Joel tried to hug you, there's a quick hiss at him and low and behold there's the sleeping Ramses all nestled in HIS GODDAMN HOODIES (granted, that he gave you BUT STILL) wedged between your tummy and tits like a sauna, all curled up as youre talking to it like its a—

Oh my god.

"Are you... practicing—for the baby??"

You stop mid bounce of the kitty in your lap, wearing a matching knitted sweater to yours. "What! No! Thats—" but your eyes faulter to the cat who's just been helplessly going along with your toying. "No! Ramses is just a sweet little kitty who has NEEDS. Poor baby boy is so cold, he needs warmth of a —"

"Mother?"

"MAYBE."

Joel goes to sit down but the cat is giving him a less than inviting glare, so he slinks back to the other end of the couch.  "Honey. I think you're taking the cat-sitting too far."

"NO Im not!" You cry. You clutch the poor baby close to you defensively.  Why are you crying? I mean, you KNOW why--you're worried Joel is going to take your baby away from you—

Ooooooooooooooooooh. Oh fuck.

You stare at the little lump of skin curled up in your lap, with his collar that says "mommy's goodest boy" and realize how much Joel is definitely right...

Not that you'd EVER tell him that.

"No. You're wrong. I'm just being a fantastic neighbor. And you're being a shitty husband and not supporting me."

"That's a little too far—"

"And—" you interject. "Even if it WAS my baby practice. Which it isn't. You aren't being a very supportive father here either."

He sighs in defeat.

Can't argue there.

so when Deanna and George call to let you know they're going to be another week up North, you let them know Ramses is in good hands.

All true. Now that Joel had gained Ramses trust and had maneuvered the little guy in the new baby sling that you two could not figure out for months, you felt pretty confident in Joel's papa skills blossoming.

- - - -

Joel dealing with Preggo Wife masterlist

[sirianasims]

It was nice being outside in the cool night air after sitting in the stuffy room. My clothes smelled like whatever he and Kari had been smoking.

I felt a little lightheaded as well.

As we walked back to the house, Charlie told me about touring, about trying to make it big. He told me about getting into trouble and running from the police. It was still baffling to me that he could laugh about things like being arrested, like it was all a big joke to him.

He also talked a little about Samuel. It felt like he was trying not to, but couldn’t stop himself. It sounded like his feelings about Samuel were just as complicated as Samuel’s feelings about him. There was definitely the same mix of resentment and envy.

After we got back to the house and I thanked Amelia for watching the girls, Charlie followed me upstairs to get a glimpse of his nieces. They were both sleeping peacefully.

In the hallway outside their room, he turned and looked at me with those mismatched eyes, one brown, one green.

“Cute kids. I know I haven’t been much of an uncle, but I’ll meet them properly tomorrow. My brother has always been the lucky one.”

I felt the lump in my throat. Tell that to him, maybe he would be here now. Maybe he would still care.

“Is something wrong? Freya? Hey, what’s up?”

There was actual concern in his voice. A voice that sounded so much like Samuel’s, except Samuel’s voice was causing me nothing but pain lately. I felt the tears coming.

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m a mess these days. It’s just – I don’t know if Samuel and I are going to last, and…”

He put his arms around me, and I leaned into him as I tried not to cry.

It felt good.

Samuel rarely held me when I was upset, he just explained why I shouldn’t be.

Charlie lifted my chin.

“My brother has also always been a fucking idiot.”

Then he kissed me.

Hard.

Insistent.

This was nothing like Samuel’s gentle kisses, bore no resemblance to his constant restraint. Or to his complete absence lately.

My knees buckled as Charlie continued kissing my neck, his other hand slowly, deliberately, untucking my shirt.

I should have pushed him away, told him to stop.

But I didn’t.

Somehow we reached the bed.

I had never felt this wanted, this desirable. All my frustration, doubt and hesitation obliterated.

As I wrapped my legs around Charlie, I knew this was wrong, this was a disaster. But all it did was turn me on more.

Charlie demanded instead of asking, ordered instead of suggesting.

Praised instead of criticising.

I let go of everything, lost myself completely in his arms, my mind blank, my body frenzied.

He looked up at me, eyes shining in the dark, as I moved my hips furiously, my nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck. If only my perfect little brother could see what his perfect little wife is doing right now.”

His harsh words cut through me without mercy, slicing through all the ties that had ever bound me.

They say the truth will set you free.

I had spent my life running from the truth, telling myself that everything would be fine if only I could find a way to be perfect.

I guess there’s nothing as freeing as accepting that you’re just a horrible human being.

Or maybe I was just human.

Flawed.

Broken.

Never meant to be perfect.

beginning / previous / next

[cherubfae]

soft partner who is super strong || arcane x reader

with Vander, Silco, Viktor, Jayce, Caitlyn, Vi, & Jinx

tags: slight canon typical violence/explosions, alcohol consumption, cursing, established relationships, lots of fluff and silliness :3 gn!reader as usual! ;D

Vander

He enjoyed teasing you, keeping things out of your reach so that you'd have to ask for his help. He adored being your big, strong man and coming to your aid. Need the jar opened? You've got it! Can't reach those cups at the top shelf? Hang on, darlin', your Vander's got it!

Remodeling The Last Drop had been a spur of the moment ordeal. Two patrons had destroyed half the booze display shelf in a drunken brawl, leaving Vander to clean up the mess and shell out some coin to order the replacements. He would've rebuilt it himself if he had any lumber, but carpentry wood had been scarce as of late.

"Hey, love, which side would you like this to go?"

Vander lifts his head at your words, his eyes damn near popping out of his skull as you casually stop carrying the shelf-- heavy wooden drawers and glass doors in and all-- with such ease. Like you were carrying a bin of trash to the edge of the street."How in the bloody fuck are you doing that, darlin'?" He baffles, watching as you easily squeeze the shelf along its matching partner.

"Oh, you know. You bend down-- it's very important to lift with your legs not your back-- and you grasp your hands on both sides and--"

"Very funny, smartass." Vander doesn't bother to hide his chuckle. He then realized you never needed his help to open those jars in the first place.

Silco

The last thing this kingpin expected was to be caught up in the crossfires between his own men and the Firelights especially not when he was out and about with you. Silco also wasn't expecting you to completely rip off an entire steel paneling of a scrapped boat beached near the murky water and use it as a bloody shield. The two of you were able to return to his office without harm, Silco immediately pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He slumps into his seat with a heavy sigh.

"Darling," he starts, already sounding exasperated. "Just when were you going to tell me you had such gorgeous strength?" Silco toys with the lip of his glass, his eyes flickering to you. You grin wide, unphased.

Quickly, you chirped, "You never asked!" With your signature beaming smile. Silco fights the urge to smack his face with his hand.

"...I hadn't ever considered it a possibility to even ask, but consider me intrigued, dearest. What more can you do? Show me."

Viktor

He's lethally smart and typically a man who doesn't bother asking anyone for help, let alone you, his precious partner. Viktor is often determined to do everything on his own, with a very destructive mindset of 'I'm not useful if I'm not being productive' . Even for Piltover's smartest man, sometimes he did require extra help.

His latest invention was one of stealth and mass. A creation not unlike a Firelight's hovercraft, but much more heavy-duty. It wasn't built for a rider but to be used as a drone-- it was controlled completely by a remote device. Built to shoulder more cargo with an automated turret on the back. Somewhere buried in his mathematics, Viktor miscalculated the dimensions of the clamps meant to hold the mammoth device as he sat in front of it.

Before a ton of weight could come tumbling down on top of him, you had stopped it with ease. Lifting it high over your head, Viktor was in awe. What a true ethereal beauty you are.

Jayce

"I was thinking about this new design for the Atlas gauntlents--... H-How are you lifting that? That's impossible!" Jayce gawks. The sheer amount of iron you carried was inhuman, yet you carried it with such ease that would have the toughest brawler crying to be done. Back and forth, you placed all of his ingots used for smelting off to the side of Jayce's barren new workshop.

You give him an easy grin, smile teasing. "Iron isn't that heavy, Jayce." Shooting him a playful wink, you set the last bulk of the iron aside to return to planning out the blueprint for the forge. Jayce could only blink in disbelief, speechless, and shook his head. Maybe next time he could hire you to help him versus paying others to do it.

Caitlyn

There wasn't much that seemed to surprise Caitlyn anymore. Much of the true nature and cruelty of the world already lived right under Piltover's noses. The existence of Shimmer alone was proof of that.

While working a festival, an explosion near the city square alerted Caitlyn and the other Enforcers to the location. No doubt one of Silco's goons. She looked towards the booth where you had been worked, panic erupting in her stomach when she realized you weren't there.

Upon entering the scene, she was more alarmed than surprised to see you there, helping recover civilians trapped beneath the rubble using such super strength she'd never known you could do before.

Immediately she's at your side, assessing the damage and calling for backup and medical attention for those affected. She'll ask you of this later, for now, the civilians are more important. It was a miracle that you were there to help--and she was relieved you were unharmed. You were the miracle.

Vi

She knew you were strong and capabke of many things. She wasn't aware of one of those things being you could send an Enforcer through several brick and mortar walls. Let alone with a single punch! You truly never cease to amaze her!!

Vi's heart skips a beat in her chest. You wipe your hands across your pants, blowing away the remaining dust collected across your knuckles.

You haven't even broken skin, no sign of blood or marring across your seemingly delicate hands. When you face her, she's got a wide dopey grin on her face and makes the first comment that comes to mind.

"Holy shit, babe. That was hot."

Jinx

She, like everyone else, was quite well-aware of your strength. You enjoyed carrying her around with ease-- she enjoyed it too! The exact magnitude of strength, however, was a mystery.

Until the day finally came where she would learn just how truly powerful her partner was. A foot chase broke out between you and a downed Firelight. The perpetrator in question towing a large rucksack of valuables meant for the Chem-Barons. Jinx had been following the chase along the rooftops of Zaun, doing her best to keep up.

With a snarl, Jinx watched as you hefted a sturdy steel pole that your arms barely wrapped around and slammed it in front of the Firelights, narrowly crushing them beneath its sheer weight.

"Got'cha." You snarked, picking up the rucksack and tossing it over your shoulder. "Let's leave this one for Silco to deal with, honey." You crouch down and grab the unconscious Firelight's shoulder.

Jinx grinned wide. She wasn't used to seeing you so, so feral! She loved it!! You were normally so composed and gentle. She liked this side of you.

"You got it, toots!"

Ekko

The poor boy is a bit lost and confused. The Firelight's hoverboard gear was far from light, it certainly wasn't the heaviest, but he certainly hadn't expected his sweet partner to use the modified tech to smack an entire cargo blimp across the sky and into the sea near the docks.

Shimmering purple water bubbled to the surface, surely infested the already bizarre and chemically unnatural sea life that lurked beneath the water's depths.

"Whoa, I didn't know you had that sorta strength in ya!" Ekko folds his arms across his chest. "Not ideal that that stuff's in the ocean, but Zaun's done worse..." He shakes his head and hops onto his board, offering his hand to you. You accept and he hauls you up behind him. "Let's ditch this scene, yeah, babe?" He snickers, his mask distorting the sound slightly. His board zips to life, leaving green streaks in its wake.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2023

[sethsclearwater]

i know you write a lot of smut and stuff for paul, but can we get something for the asexual girlies out here? like how would he react to his partner being ace? 😭 i’m begging, pls omg 💗💗

absolutely!! i'm not personally asexual so hopefully this does it justice!! also - this is def not going to fit every ace reader out there - i wrote this for a reader who is ace but still experiences romantic and sensual attraction! so if you're ace and don't want any of that (sensual or romantic) lmk and i can write another blurb! :D

...

"so you... don't want to have like any sex at all?" paul asked as gently as he could, though you could tell he was completely baffled by your confession to him.

you giggled, shaking your head, "jus' not interested in it," you explained, offering him a soft smile as he let out a heavy exhale, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to figure out what that meant.

in paul's mind, everyone loved sex. he was used to making any previous partners feel good through sex and other sexual acts, so hearing that you weren't even remotely interested in that had him... confused to say the least.

"so can i like... touch you?" he asked, a hint of nervousness lacing his voice that had you giggling again.

"yes you can touch me paul," you giggled, "just not particularly interested in having sex or doing any of that kind of stuff with you," you explained, "or anyone else," you added quickly, already knowing he'd be losing his mind thinking it was only him you didn't want to have sex with.

he slowly nodded, seeming to take in your words for a minute before responding, "okay..." he murmured softly, "so how do i..." he trailed off, looking for the right words for a moment before continuing, "make you feel good?" he finished, watching you anxiously as he waited for your response.

you smiled softly at him, "paul," you laughed softly, leaning forward to take his hands into yours, offering them a soft squeeze, "i know you've had other girlfriends in the past, yea?" you asked, raising your eyebrows at him and smiling when he slowly nodded.

"i'm sure you did plenty of other things to make them feel good besides sex, right?" you asked, giggling when he nodded again, "so we can do all the other stuff you usually do like cuddling and holding hands and all that stuff, just no sex, yea?" you finished, smiling when he nodded, this time seeming a bit more confident in himself.

"i just..." he started, trailing off, "i just don't wanna accidentally make you hate me," he murmured, the notoriously proud and cocky man uncharacteristically nervous now, "like you're my imprint and if i fuck this up i'm done for," he added, anxiously watching you for your response.

you smiled softly at him, absolutely loving how concerned he was with making sure you were comfortable, "i wouldn't hate you," you laughed softly, "promise," you reassured before adding, "and if you're ever unsure if i'll like something then you can always ask me, yea?" you suggested, smiling when he slowly nodded, letting out a heavy exhale that he had presumably been holding in since you first told him you were asexual.

"okay," he murmured, "i think i can do that," he added, taking in a deep breath with you and holding it for a moment before exhaling, "i can totally do that," he murmured to himself before straightening himself out a bit, suddenly seeming to get back to his usual cocky self.

"so are we still gonna watch that movie you've been bugging me about all week?" you asked teasingly, squealing when he nodding, picking you up to toss you over his shoulder and carry you over to the couch so you two could watch the movie together.

[the-owl-house-takes]

So I think the worst take of the fandom is that all of the problems of the show would have been fixed had it gotten a full S3. That literally any problem the show had merely came from the shortening. This is... Well, just blatantly shows that the fandom not only doesn't understand how the animation industry works AND doesn't want to actually look at the narrative they did choose to focus on post the shortening call that were just... baffling.

So first let's establish how much of the show was affected by the Shortening. As a fandom, we found out about it during the hiatus between S1 and 2. This was at earliest, August 2020 since the S1 finale came out late August 2020. Dana has claimed two things that are important to this timeline. 1: The shortening was decided on shortly before the finale came out and 2: That the first episode affected by Covid, which would have been back in March/April, was Looking Glass Ruins. So we EXPLICTLY know that the shortening didn't affect the show until after S2 Ep 5.

BUT then we get into production schedules. Before S2 even BEGAN airing, we were told to stop campaigning for a full S3 because they had to get started on storyboards for the season and that was effectively the firm deadline. This means ALL of S2 was effectively done in script and storyboards by the time S2 aired. This makes sense to keep a weekly schedule and the like and most animation professionals will tell you they work MONTHS in advance of release, bare minimum.

This means, AT BEST, S2B was when the shortening really kicked in. And yes, S2B has pacing issues. It has issues in general and is when most people think the quality of the show dropped. The problem is that... The signs were always there. There's a reason why there's been a backlash because as people become disillusioned with the show, you have to ask what was driving so much before.

And a lot of that was potential. S1 is so good when you first watch it because it keeps teasing the idea that it's going to tackle things in a complex way. That it will explore concepts like Amity's abusive family, magic, fantasy vs reality, etc. like that. It's why the fandom was at its strongest during S1.

Unfortunately, the problem with presenting good ideas and then not executing on them, or completely gutting them is that those old parts are a lot harder to enjoy. As Willow was effectively not a character for half a season and then just suddenly was a jock, people began to realize the fact that she in the show is much more a plot device than anything else. They claimed "We're not doing the one kind act into friendship and forgiveness thing with Amity and Willow" and then literally did NOTHING with it until S2B and eventually DID just do the same trope anyways but now with less resonance than it would have had in Understanding Willow.

Not only that but even S1 didn't give a single shit about its worldbuilding. The First Day has Dana Terrace as a lead writer on it. If anyone knows the worldbuilding best, it should be her... So why is it that no one talks about multi-coven things being illegal? It's literally just used as meta commentary and so they entirely ignore the worldbuilding they have. Reaching Out is exactly the same, with Dana as the SOLE writer of that where Amity and everyone else treats joining a coven like going to college and not literally the word of the law.

But S1 couldn't even keep Wild Witches consistent. Half the time Eda can chill and not worry. She can go to a place funded by the EC like Hexide and not flinch for a second that Bump might call the guards on her despite that being kind of the ONE real rule to their society that makes it not just our world but with teeth. Then again, the show gives NO FUCKS about its own stuff, willing excising portions of itself that it finds cumbersome. Escaping Expulsion is BEFORE Looking Glass Ruins and yet it murders Luz's magical potential in its sleep and also discards Amity's family as easily disposable, despite how much the show claims her mother's influence is the reason why Amity behaved the way she did for all of... Three appearances? Because Amity's arc isn't actually good.

It shouldn't be surprising S2 would do this though when the writers already struggled to do anything with Luz's magic. If she's supposed to be learning and growing... Even S1 is shit at this and is repetitive. Not just with the at least three times we do "King has a minion!" B plot that isn't funny and doesn't do anything but also with its lessons. Luz theoretically learns to listen to Eda in the third episode and arguably the second as well. Then she gets her first glyph with the lesson, in theory. of not trying to take shortcuts to do magic and to not steal. And then in Adventure in the Elements, not even to impress Amity but because of her impatience, she steals something to take a shortcut to stronger magic. That is THREE episodes of the first TWELVE of the series. It usually takes most kids shows at least a LITTLE longer to be that bad at retreading its own lessons.

And the final part of this is that... S2 actually had to be effectively the exact same as it was for s3 to happen. You need the foreshadowing of the Collector for the Day of Unity. You need to FINALLY do something with Belos for the revelations of the Human Realm to happen and to do Luz's angst arc. You need Hunter to be at least 90% redeemed so he's there on their side during The Day of Unity, etc. like that. Then you get half a season in the human realm before coming back to the Isles for half a season, just like Amphibia did because returning home is the best mid-season finale you can have there. So any argument that a full S3 would have actually fixed issues with S2B is just... Wrong. The problems with S2B come with the fact that S2A wastes a FUCKTON of time on elements that don't matter.

Oh, and lest we forget that The Collector could have been cut. He had one appearance in a dream, that also doesn't make sense with his characterization, before S2B. In the fact, the crew has admitted as much. He was added AFTER the news of the Shortening because they always wanted to include a character like him so now that they didn't have the time for him... Cram him in anyways.

Could a show have EVER been saved when that's how they treat one of their two final antagonists? It's the sort of statement that just solidifies the idea that TOH didn't want three seasons. It wanted five... If not just to go on forever. To be the next monolithic show, even as it repeats character arcs, lessons and shrinks characters rather than expands them.

So no, the show isn't bad because of the shortening. The show is bad because the writing is bad.

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