#if i could just replace the right half of my body with a reflection of the left half i'd be golden >:(

[wizardlyghost]

need to be put in the machine that twists your bones and muscles into symmetrical and healthy positions

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason: Bruce, I know we’ve made amends and I’m back in this insane family, and I’m well aware you tried to kill the Joker to avenge my honor. You didn’t go through with it, but still, there’s a lot to unpack here. I want that soldier memorial removed. I never wanted a statue that labels me as a damn child soldier.

Bruce: Yeah, I told Alfred the same thing. Honestly, I’m thinking we could replace it with photos of you, Dick, Tim, and Damian.

Jason: You told Alfred the same thing?

Bruce (swishing his Cognac in his glass): Alfred set up that memorial and included the soldier line. I hated it—not because it reminds me of you but because equating you to a soldier reduces the fact that you're my son who chose to fight alongside me. I may be emotionally distant, but I do love you. You were never a solider, you are my son.

Jason blinked, momentarily stunned, and turned away, coughing to maintain his composure. Bruce half-smiled, noticing his son misty-eyed.

Jason: Right, back to the Alfred comment. He put that up? Jesus, I know he’s old and things were different back then, but “soldier” for a teenage Robin? How is that okay?

Bruce: Alfred means well. He tends to do insane things without my approval. He made Tim a Robin after I vowed never to have another child sidekick.

Jason (shocked): What the hell?!

Bruce chuckled dryly as he drank the rest of his Cognac and poured another glass.

Bruce: Yeah, when you died in that explosion and I cradled your lifeless body, I thought about you—my sidekick, my son. I reflected on Dick and what he went through, how he was going low contact with me. I spiraled, thinking, “What kind of monster does this to his son? To the kids he claims to care about? I just buried a kid… a kid who lost his life before it even started.”

He downed the second glass of Cognac, his throat dry, and slammed the glass on the table.

Bruce: So I vowed to never get another one. Obviously, that didn’t stick. Tim figured out Dick was Nightwing and the first Robin; I couldn’t resist rubbing that in his face for weeks once I felt better. But before that, I turned Tim away. I didn’t want a child sidekick. I thought I could handle this alone. Dick and I were still on terrible terms, and I was losing it. This was after I tried to kill the Joker, by the way.

Jason: Right.

Bruce: I was, to put it lightly, losing my mind. I was inches away from having my one bad day moment, on the brink of insanity. But Alfred and… I think Dick got Tim your old suit—

Jason: My old suit? The one I died in?!

Bruce: No, the backup you had. Keep up. So they gave him that suit, and he saved me. Alfred was like, "Master Bruce, I got you a new sidekick. You don’t have to thank me." I didn’t thank him, but Tim was precocious and adorable. I probably would’ve died without him. But yeah, Alfred was behind that as well.

Jason: …

Bruce: I know it’s a lot to take in. I hope you aren’t angry at Alfred for this.

Jason (burying his head in his hands): I’m so conflicted.

Bruce: That’s usually how I feel when Alfred decides to do things I didn't agree with. He means well though, the man was there for me when I had no one after my parents died. Do you still want to remove the memorial? I have a small one set up for you already, just photos of us together.

Jason: Aww, Bruce, that’s actually nice and makes sense for you. Let’s keep the memorial. I don’t have it in me to get mad at Alfred. Can I have some of that alcohol, though? I think I need it.

Bruce (already pouring him a glass): I expected that. If you have more questions, I’m two drinks in and becoming an open book like that time we got hit with truth pollen.

Jason: I actually wanted to ask what you said to Superman after he stupidly tried to stop you from avenging your son.

Bruce: I’d love to talk about that, and I hope he hears us.

inspired by this kaylee.jaye

[bearforcecaptions]

It started innocently enough. A text buzzed on my phone at 7:00 AM sharp as I blearily smacked the alarm off my nightstand. I squinted at the screen, still half-asleep.

“You’ve been chosen. Reply YES to begin.”

Chosen? I assumed it was spam and set the phone down. I was 37, single, short, and covered in an unflattering layer of thick body hair. Years of poor diets and no exercise had left me chubby and soft. I looked like a man who had given up. What did “chosen” mean for someone like me?

Then the phone buzzed again. This time, the message seemed bolder, the text sharper against the screen:

“Reply YES to become who you were always meant to be.”

I stared at the words. A strange hum began in the back of my mind, faint but insistent, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I hovered over the screen. I didn’t want to reply. I shouldn’t reply. But my hand moved as though it had a will of its own. I tapped out “YES” and hit send.

The phone vibrated immediately:

“Good choice. Time to begin. Lose the shirt.”

Lose the shirt? I frowned, unsure if I should laugh or scream. But then it happened—a prickling warmth that started at the base of my neck and spread across my shoulders, down my chest. I scratched at my skin, suddenly burning. The itching grew sharper, deeper, until it was unbearable.

I ripped off my shirt, my breath coming in quick gasps. My chest felt… lighter. I glanced at the mirror, my heart plummeting. My chest hair… it was receding, dissolving into my skin. I stepped closer. It wasn’t just my hair. My chest itself looked different. My pale, flabby pecs seemed firmer, the skin smoother, tanner. The skin stretched, my reflection shimmering slightly, like heat rippling in summer air.

“No,” I whispered, backing away. My voice sounded strange—lower, richer, but tremulous. My reflection flickered again. I swore I looked taller… straighter… but that couldn’t be right. My shadow on the wall stretched longer than I remembered, its proportions wrong. I blinked hard, but the distortion lingered.

The phone buzzed again. My hands trembled as I picked it up.

“Looking better. Go for a run. You need to move.”

A run? I couldn’t run. My knees wouldn’t take it. But even as I thought the words, the itch returned—this time in my legs, deep and unrelenting, like something inside me was breaking free. I looked down, horrified as my calves visibly tensed, the muscles rippling beneath my skin. My sneakers were by the door—were they always so spotless? So perfectly white?

The thought dissolved as my body moved of its own accord. I slipped them on, my fingers fumbling clumsily at the laces… but then they cinched tight, snug and perfect, as though molded to me.

The door opened as I stumbled outside. My feet struck the pavement. At first, my gait was uneven, unfamiliar… but the further I went, the easier it became. My steps lengthened. My legs stretched, bones and muscles expanding as I moved. I ran faster than I ever thought possible, faster than I ever could. The wind whistled past my ears. My thighs burned with an electric heat, and I felt them tightening, growing, swelling with strength I didn’t understand.

The world blurred around me, trees and cars streaking like paint on canvas. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a parked car window—a tall, lean figure, chest heaving but strong, running effortlessly. My breath hitched. I almost tripped. That wasn’t me… was it? My short, squat legs had vanished, replaced by long, muscular limbs that moved with impossible grace. My face…

I forced myself to look away and ran harder.

When I finally stopped, I was outside a gym I didn’t recognize. It loomed in front of me, clean and sleek, its sliding glass doors glowing faintly under the morning sun. My phone buzzed again.

“Go in. Your session awaits.”

I wiped sweat from my forehead and turned to leave… but my feet wouldn’t move. The itch was back—in my arms, in my shoulders. My body ached to lift, to strain. I turned back to the gym. The doors slid open soundlessly as I approached, beckoning me inside.

The air hit me like a wave: clean, sharp, laced with the scent of iron and sweat. I should’ve been disgusted, but it felt grounding… familiar. I stepped inside. A receptionist—a guy I’d never seen before—nodded at me like I belonged there.

“Late today, huh?” he said with a grin.

I swallowed thickly, my throat dry. I didn’t know him, but his words didn’t feel wrong. My feet carried me to a locker in the back, where I found a bag waiting for me—a sleek black bag with my name stitched into the side. My name.

I unzipped it, pulling out a tank top and shorts, pristine and athletic. My trembling hands stripped my sweat-soaked clothes, my eyes darting to the mirror on the wall. My chest was different. Pecs pushed outward, hard and defined. My arms… smooth, tanned, veins threading their way up my forearms. I looked taller. My legs—thick, powerful, carved with striations I didn’t recognize.

The phone buzzed.

“Lift. Heavy. You know what to do.”

I didn’t question it. My body carried me to the racks, loading plates effortlessly. The barbell felt good in my grip—like it belonged there. Each lift was easy at first, then harder… but the burn was exhilarating. My body drank it in, my muscles swelling. I caught my reflection—a tall, confident man with a smirk I didn’t recognize. Was that… me?

When I left the gym, I didn’t feel scared anymore. The streets looked brighter, cleaner, as if the world had sharpened. My body hummed. I walked with a swagger I couldn’t stop.

At home—if it could still be called that—the apartment was unrecognizable. The grimy carpet and peeling wallpaper were gone, replaced by smooth hardwood floors and modern, minimalist walls in muted tones. The cluttered mess that once filled the space had vanished, replaced by sleek black and chrome furniture that screamed wealth and precision. A massive bed—king-sized with a perfectly ironed, deep green duvet—dominated the room, flanked by matching nightstands with tasteful lamps. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows I knew weren’t there before, giving the space an airy, expensive glow.

My heart pounded as I moved through the room, my footsteps softened by a plush rug that stretched across the floor. Gym equipment—a polished set of dumbbells and a weight bench—was arranged neatly in the corner, as if waiting for me. On the opposite side of the room, a gleaming shelf displayed protein powders, shaker bottles, and a row of vitamins like trophies. I froze, staring at the items, my mind foggy. None of this was mine… yet it felt like it always had been. A strange sense of ownership crept over me, erasing the last dregs of unease.

I ran a hand over the sleek surface of the dresser, where neatly folded gym clothes sat waiting—tanks, fitted shirts, athletic shorts. A faint scent lingered in the air—clean, musky, mine. I swallowed hard, my pulse slowing as the tension in my chest faded. It was all perfect. Better than I could have ever imagined.

I took a hesitant step toward the massive bed, its deep green duvet somehow inviting. My body ached from the workout, but it was a satisfying ache—a good kind of pain. Without even thinking, I sat down on the edge, the mattress firm but comfortable beneath me. A strange sense of ease washed over me as I sank back onto the pillows, legs stretching out across the bed as though I belonged there.

The sunlight streamed through the tall windows, warming my skin. I stared at the ceiling for a long moment, my chest rising and falling steadily. For the first time all day, I felt still—but not out of place. The tension I had been carrying, the lingering confusion, all of it seemed distant now, like something that didn’t matter anymore.

My phone buzzed on the pristine nightstand, breaking the quiet. I turned my head lazily, almost relieved to hear it, as though it grounded me in this new reality. I reached over, my fingers curling around it easily, the screen glowing faintly:

“Upload your selfie and forget you were ever anyone else.”

I sat back lazily on the bed, leaning onto one elbow as I stretched out, legs sprawled wide in front of me. My thighs—thick, strong, and defined—were framed perfectly by the tight black briefs I hadn’t even realized I was wearing, the fabric clinging to my body in all the right ways. My chest, still flushed from the workout, rose and fell steadily, every breath making the defined curves of my pecs stand out. The sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the smooth tan of my skin, making the faint lines of veins on my forearms and biceps look almost deliberate, like they belonged on a statue.

The corner of my mouth curled into a lazy smirk as I turned on the camera, the phone already in my hand, its weight feeling natural. The screen flashed to life, and the reflection staring back at me was perfect—a sharp jawline angled just right by the sunlight streaming through the windows, dark hair tousled messily yet somehow flawlessly, and eyes gleaming with a cocky, knowing confidence. My chest, still flushed from the earlier workout, looked broad and solid, the light casting faint shadows across the defined curves of my pecs.

I adjusted slightly, leaning back further into the pillows as I sprawled out, my thick, powerful thighs taking up the frame. The snug black briefs I wore clung perfectly to me, the fabric highlighting every inch of muscle—quads that looked carved from stone and calves flexed lazily. My legs spread wider as though by instinct, one foot, still clad in a clean white sock, resting casually in the foreground. The sunlight danced across the tanned, smooth skin of my forearms, catching on the faint veins threading up toward my biceps, which flexed subtly as I held the phone aloft.

I tilted the camera, ensuring the angle captured everything—my smirk, my body stretched across the bed, the sheer effortlessness of it all. It was perfect. I didn’t even need to think about it. The words slipped out, low and satisfied:

“Perfect.”

I snapped the photo, letting the moment linger for a second longer, and then uploaded it to Instagram without hesitation.

--

I toss my phone onto the bed and stretch, kicking my legs out and flexing absently. The day’s barely started, but the gym’s already done its work—my quads are still burning in the best way.

The group chat pings, and I glance at it, smirking. Plans for tonight? Always. I grab a water bottle off the nightstand, take a long swig, and flex my bicep without even thinking about it.

The sunlight feels good. I lean back, scratching idly at my chest. The world’s as it should be. Everything feels right.

[mattslutt]

WORSHIP YOU - m.sturniolo

in which: : your boyfriend matt is obsessed with your thighs and always makes sure you feel worshipped and loved.

Matt’s voice is muffled through the bathroom, something about making dinner together, but you barely process it. You’re sprawled across the bed, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling—a dangerous habit, you know. But today, the algorithm is relentless, shoving image after image of toned bodies, lean legs, impossible proportions right in your face.

Your thumb hovers over the screen, and then you catch your reflection in the black mirror of your phone—a frown, a furrowed brow. Without thinking, your hand moves to your thigh, fingers pressing into the softness, feeling that familiar twist in your stomach. You hate how easy it is for the doubt to creep in.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice Matt until the bed dips beneath his weight, and suddenly, warm hands are gripping your legs, dragging them over his shoulders as he all but buries himself between them. His cheek presses against the plush of your thigh, and you feel his lips—soft, barely-there kisses—trailing across your skin.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice low, a little muffled. He squeezes your thighs, almost like he’s testing the feeling of them in his hands, and there’s a hint of a groan in his voice, like he can’t help himself. “God, I missed these.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, the spell of self-critique cracking just slightly. “You saw me like an hour ago, Matt.”

“Yeah, and it was too long.” His grip tightens, and his eyes—half-lidded, a little dazed—flicker up to yours. “You know, you could suffocate me with these, and I’d say thank you.”

Your cheeks burn. “Matt—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, the playful tone slipping just a bit, replaced by something softer, almost reverent. His fingers trace slow, lazy circles over your thighs, his touch feather-light, but enough to leave a trail of warmth in its wake. “I don’t think you get it. I’m obsessed. These legs, these thighs—” He presses another kiss, this time lingering, his lips hot against your skin. “I love them. I love you.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and you instinctively try to pull your legs away, but his hands are already gripping tighter. “Nope. Not going anywhere,” he insists, his lips still brushing against you with every word. “You can keep thinking whatever you want, but just know I’m gonna keep doing this. Forever. Okay?”

Your heart stutters, the familiar doubt flickering weakly before fading under his touch, his words, his devotion. You reach down, your fingers slipping into his messy hair, and he hums, leaning into your touch like a cat starved for attention.

“Okay,” you whisper, voice a little shaky, a little overwhelmed. “Forever sounds good.”

“Good,” he mumbles, already pressing another kiss to your thigh, his voice going softer, almost sleepy. “Because I’m not letting go. Ever.”

Matt’s lips are still against your thigh, the warmth of his breath spreading across your skin, and his voice drops to a low, almost sleepy murmur. “Softest thighs I’ve ever touched,” he whispers, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles. “Could live right here. Your skin’s perfect. So warm, so soft.”

“Matt—” you try to protest, a nervous laugh bubbling up, but his hands just tighten, pulling your legs even closer around his shoulders.

“No, I mean it,” he continues, voice edging on desperate, like he needs you to understand. “You don’t get it, do you? You could wear anything—shorts, dresses, those leggings I love—and I’d just lose my mind. Sometimes I see you and forget how to talk. I just wanna touch you, kiss you—”

Your face burns, your fingers instinctively tugging at his hair, trying to distract him. “Matt, stop—”

“Not a chance,” he breathes, pressing another kiss, this one wetter, his lips lingering. “I’d spend hours here if you let me. I love the way you feel, love the way you look. I love how soft you are. How perfect.” His voice is a low, steady rhythm, each word sinking into your skin, carving away every ounce of doubt.

“Matt—” you try again, but he looks up, his blue eyes dark and serious, and your voice falters.

“I wish you could see what I see,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into something almost vulnerable. “How gorgeous you are. I watch you walk around, and I just—” He lets out a low, breathless laugh. “I can’t believe you’re mine. Can’t believe I get to touch you. I’m so obsessed, baby. So, so obsessed.”

You feel the heat crawling down your neck, spreading across your chest, and you try to squirm away, embarrassment making you lightheaded. “Matt, please—”

“Please, what?” he teases, but there’s a gentleness to it. “Please keep going? Please keep kissing you?” His lips find a new spot on your thigh, his stubble grazing against your skin, sending a shiver through you. “I will. I’ll never stop. Not until you believe me. Not until you understand how much I love every single part of you.”

Your heart is racing, the mixture of embarrassment and something warmer, something more addictive, flooding through you. You try to cover your face, but Matt’s hand catches your wrist, pulling it gently away.

“No hiding, pretty girl,” he whispers, his voice a low promise. “Not from me. Never from me.”

A/N:

as a curvy girly myself, im very insecure and have been feeling way more insecure recently so i wrote this to feed my delusions but also make myself feel better LMAO.

[traumadumpwriter]

Relapse and a Half - Six

JJ Maybank X Pogue!Reader

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they re unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, explicit sexual assault, violence, trauma

Reblogging is allowed!

Masterlist - Part Seven

I’ve had so many people requesting this part so here it finally is! Thank you so much for any comment or like or any appreciation you’ve shown at all, it really does mean the world to me. I spent ages writing this part because I just couldn’t get it right but I think (I hope) I’ve finally done it. Reminder here that my inbox is open for requests and also just if you need someone to talk to. Hope you enjoy <3

Word count: 5.8k

Part 6

A month passed since that night at Barry's, and no one could've guessed that anything bad might've happened to you.

You'd gone back to your old job - tending at a run down bar - and had no seemingly no interest in any hard drugs. You'd spent most of your free time at the Chateau or alone with JJ; your obsession with each other an undying fire. And you'd even started doing yoga with Kie - making you feel better about your mind and body.

The bruises and scratches on your skin had faded and been replaced by JJ's kisses and light marks - the smallest patch of purple appearing on your ass after one passionately hard fuck. Noticing the bruise the morning after, JJ had frowned and gently stroked it.

"I'm sorry baby, I shouldn't have been so rough. I'll go gentler next time." He’d whispered.

"What are you talking about? Don't go gentler. Last night was.. incredible." You'd scoffed in response.

"But I left a bruise. Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

"JJ, I like being marked by you. Don't feel bad about that... in fact maybe we should go again."

JJ smirked at that, pulling his lip under his teeth.

"Right now?"

"When else?"

All in all, life had actually been pretty good for you despite the occasional crying night spent alone. That was the only time you'd ever reflect on what happened - when you were alone - and even then you were still in a state of denial about the severity of it. Logically, you knew what had happened was horrific and whatever JJ had seen had given him every right to be as angry as he was. But you still weren't ready to admit that to yourself - so you didn't.

When you cried, it wasn't because you felt like a used, damaged victim of an awful crime, it was because you felt like a dirty, slutty junkie for ever letting it happen. It certainly didn't help that your friends had gotten involved too, and though they'd mimicked you in acting mostly as if nothing had happened, you could sense the slight change. For instance, Kie hadn't ranted to you about the micro-aggressions committed by men for a hot minute. Pope had brought around sandwiches and cookies to your house - much to the delight of your mother who absolutely adored the lad. John B was seemingly counting your drinks anytime you all decided to party, cutting you off anytime you got close to being sloppy which never used to bother him. And JJ... you couldn't tell if he was acting different now because he was "openly in love with you" as he said, or if it was because he thought you needed protecting.

Nonetheless, you were able to sweep all of this under the rug and forget about it most of the time. You lived your life as usual and focused on staying clean.

That was until you saw Rafe at the Boneyard.

The night had started pretty averagely, pre-drinking at the Chateau and then dancing with Kie by the fire whilst the boys congregated with other delinquents. The only dancing being done by the male trio was from John B trying to make moves on some touron - which the rest of the Pogues were amusedly watching from afar. JJ was - as usual - placing bets on stupid things with any other thrill seeker he could find - such as who could finish a keg first or hold their hand in fire the longest, whilst Pope tried to convince him to stop being an idiot - unsuccessfully of course.

You enjoyed nights like these, being in close proximity to your closest friends but with some space between you. It was a nice change to the cramped, sometimes overbearing nights at the Chateau. You knew that Kie felt the same way.

"Do you think John B's gonna get lucky? That girl does not look impressed." She mused, her fingers intertwined with yours as you rocked together.

"I'm fifty-fifty. She doesn't look impressed but she hasn't left his side. Maybe the dancing is just confusing her."

"It is pretty confusing. Like a bird trying to pull off a mating ritual or something but can't quite remember how to do it."

"Now you've said it - I totally see that. He's like a giant bird." You giggled in agreement. "With those long legs he's got to be a flamingo, right?”

"I'd say so. And Pope is a turtle."

"I see that too. I think that JJ might be a big cat of some sort, you know? Like maybe a tiger."

"Yeah right. The boy is an excitable menace, not an agile predator." Kie scoffed.

"So what is he? A dog?"

"You said it, not me."

You both laughed at that and eventually came to the conclusion that he was in fact a husky, drunkenly twirling and swaying as you spoke. A girl - much drunker than you - accidentally bumped into you causing you to look up from Kie as you held out a hand to catch her. She bashfully smiled and apologised before rushing away - clearly a few years younger - and you thought about following her to make sure she was okay before you were distracted by the sensation of someone's eyes on you.

At first, you thought it might be JJ trying to get your attention from across the party, but he was some feet away and no longer illuminated by the fire - arguing with some guy in the ocean about who could swim faster. The eyes on you were a similiar shade to his, but they were rounder and darker, and the person they belonged to was taller and a lot scarier. If anyone were to be a predatory cat, it would be him.

Rafe Cameron had a smug grin on his lips as he ran his eyes along you, intentionally staring with the aim to let you know that he was there. Your breath caught in your throat as soon as you registered the unfriendly gaze and, like a deer in headlights, you froze.

You'd managed to forget what JJ had said about Rafe being at Barry's almost entirely, in fact you'd practically forced yourself to forget about the Cameron's existence. In the time that you'd spent crying by yourself, you'd been so distracted by all the other things you were stressed about that you hadn't even thought about what Rafe had to do with the whole thing. What he might've done.

The second your eyes locked with his though, a barrage of anxiety hit you and you suddenly found yourself with a month's worth of worries about the man. He seemed to sense your discomfort, his eyebrow raising questioningly and his grin widening. Luckily, Kie also sensed it and it only took her a second to figure out the reason why.

"That fucking asshole." She muttered under her breath before squeezing your hand lightly. "We should leave. I'll go get the boys."

"No!" You quickly objected, feeling a sudden rush of panic at the thought of confessing to the Pogues that you did in fact feel uncomfortable around Rafe Cameron.

Before that night, he never would have scared you from anywhere. You wouldn't have even afforded him a second glance unless it was to insult him. You couldn't change that now - not when the reasoning would be so clear. Kie shot you a confused look.

"It's fine. He's just a stupid Kook. Let's not let our night be ruined because of him."

She looked uncertain but didn't argue, nodding slowly with knitted brows. Perhaps if she'd been more sober she would've thought to question you, but she'd gone the last month without pushing you for answers and you seemed to be doing fine, so she decided that she wouldn't start now - especially when you had been having such a fun night.

Instead, the pair of you shifted away from the centre of the space and moved your dancing to the edge of the crowd, losing John B from your eye-lines but gaining the drinks table.

"I'm gonna go refresh. You want any?" You asked Kie and she nodded with a grateful smile, though still uncertainly.

When you got to the makeshift bar, you instantly poured yourself a shot and quickly drank it down before grabbing two beers from the cool box - who they actually belonged to being a mystery that you didn't care to solve. The Pogues had been weird about you drinking any spirits, so you decided to use the opportunity of being alone to quickly do another shot before anyone could stop you.

As you continued dancing with Kie, you both drank the beer and soon you'd forgotten about Rafe's unsettling gaze as rapidly as you'd felt it. That bliss was short lived though, a wide eyed Pope and a raging JJ suddenly at your side.

"We should go." Pope had managed to pant out before JJ started his rant.

"That motherfucker is here. And he won't stop staring at you. I'm gonna fucking kill him. Look- he's doing it now. I swear he's doing it on purpose. Where the fuck is John B?" He seethed.

"Woah, woah. Calm down babe." You said softly, lacing your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close to you.

You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, fast and agitated, and though it slowed slightly from your touch, it was still laced with palpable venom.

"He's a piece of shit, Y/N. I should've killed him when I had the chance."

You knew that you should've been taking JJ's anger more seriously, but through the fog of mixed alcohol he just looked too handsome for you to focus on anything else. All you wanted to do was kiss him. You would just quickly sweep this Rafe drama under the rug and spend the night attached to JJ. That was the best way to deal with things.

"Well you in jail wouldn't do anyone any good, would it? Come on. Don't let some stupid Kook ruin the night. Why don't we go smoke a blunt and see if he's still here when we're finished? If he is then we can leave." You smiled, sounding far more condescending through your slurring than you realised.

JJ's face morphed into the same one of perplexity that Kie's had displayed twenty minutes prior, almost offended by your blasé attitude. He exhaled heavily out of his nose as he bit his tongue. Also like Kie, he was uncertain as to how to handle the ignorance you were feigning but knew that he didn't want to make you unhappy. If you wanted to stay he supposed that he would have to, after all you were right in saying that Rafe was just a stupid Kook. Maybe giving him a reaction would be letting him win.

"Okay, okay. Let's go smoke." JJ huffed, much to the surprise of Kie and Pope.

You grinned and planted a kiss on his lips which he gladly returned, his rage evaporating against the sweetness of your skin. He interlaced his fingers with yours and strolled towards the Twinkie, smiling as he listened to you joke about John B's dance moves, not relaxed enough to say anything himself but glad that you were happy.

Kie and Pope joined you, still not used to JJ being so calm and doting and finding it amusing.

"Who could've known that all JJ needed was a girlfriend to finally chill out a bit." Pope chuckled, and Kie added "It's been a long time coming."

They were only a foot behind but you and JJ didn't hear their observations, too enamoured with each other to pay attention to anything else. You piled into the Twinkie and grabbed the weed from under one of the seats, chucking it to Kie to roll as you all casually conversed.

"Do you think we should go get John B? He might want some." You asked.

"Nah. He's having a good time macking on with that touron. Wouldn't wanna stop my man from doing what he does best." JJ smirked in response, earning an eye roll from everyone else.

"If that's what he does best then there is a serious skill issue going on." Pope scoffed, which you all laughed at.

By time the blunt was finished, everyone had practically forgotten the reason they'd decided to smoke in the first place, heading back to the party with red eyes and big smiles. You were extremely relieved by this, asserting to yourself that pretending nothing had happened was the best way to deal with things.

Before you could get close to the fire though, a familiar voice came from behind you all - laced with its characteristic mocking chime.

"You really fucked up Barry's face, you know?" Rafe chuckled.

You gasped and turned around.

Topper was stood beside him, arms crossed and grinning at you whilst Rafe was looking at JJ with a gleam of trouble in his eyes. You knew that things could be about to get seriously bad. Nervously, you gripped your boyfriends hand and prayed that it would be enough to stop him from attacking one of the lads.

"I mean it's still messed up now. Good on you, man." Rafe continued.

"What the hell do you want?" JJ hissed venomously.

"Just saying congrats. He's at his now if you wanna go for round two. I was just there." He smirked and then looked at you. "I know he'd be up for another round."

JJ's hand effortlessly slipped from yours and pushed out in front of him, shoving Rafe in the chest hard and closing the space between them. You stepped forward and reached for JJ, not wanting this fight to happen, but he ignored your touch.

"You don't fucking talk to her." He barked into Rafe's face. "I should've messed up your shit too."

Rafe shoved him back, though not as hard, his face still bright with amusement and pupils wide with intoxication.

"Hey, hey chill out. It's a compliment, bro. Your girl's got a great rack, can you blame him?" He chuckled, sending you a wink.

All within a few seconds - you instinctively moved your arms to cover yourself, Kie protectively moved to your side with a vicious glare and JJ launched his fist at Rafe. The taller boy had been expecting the blow and caught it. He gave a smug grin before sending a hard punch of his own.

"JJ!" You cried out, watching him stumble backwards and then deflect a sudden hit from Topper.

Pope jumped in, flying at Topper and sending him to the ground where the two started a serious brawl - much to yours and Kie's horror. JJ continued to go for Rafe - who still looked very pleased with himself - whilst you stood frozen to the spot, fear and dread running through you. Kie rushed over to Pope, trying to pull Topper off him, then Rafe threw JJ to the ground and looked at you, his lips curled up into a smug snarl.

"And the cutest, little pussy too. No wonder you've got this punk so whipped, huh?"

So he had seen.. everything. One of the worst people you'd ever met had seen your entire body and you remembered none of it. And now he was clearly relishing in the memory of it; holding it over you and mocking your boyfriend with it.

You felt sick at the realisation, a deep crack forming in your wall of denial. More than anything though, you felt humiliated, the feeling only getting worse as a crowd started to form around the chaos. JJ was getting his ass kicked by Rafe but showed no signs of slowing, his rage entirely visible to anyone. He was landing a few good punches, but Rafe was bigger than him and able to harness the effortless violence of being a sociopath. JJ was just blinded by rage.

You called out his name again but your voice was hardly noticeable over the jeering of the crowd, and then there was a shout and things suddenly got even louder. John B had launched himself through the commotion and was on top of Rafe, his arms putting him into a tight chokehold and finally giving JJ the upper hand. He struggled against John B's grip as JJ delivered a barrage of hits to his torso, winding him and causing him to splutter out a tight breath. Then you turned and saw Topper throwing Kie to the ground, quickly being punished by Pope and a displeased group of Pogues for his action. Naturally though, as more Pogues joined the fight so did more Kooks, and soon it was complete chaos.

You rushed to Kie's side, your body moving out of pure instinct as your mind still felt frozen in shock and fright. You didn't even hear yourself ask if she was okay, but you must've as she responded with a sharp 'yes' before sitting herself up. She took a second to collect herself, looking around in confusion until it all became clear and then gasping.

"We need to get out of here." She said, looking at you with wide eyes. "Cops have probably already been called."

You nodded, helping to pull her up before trying to make your way into the chaos again, squeezing past people until you saw JJ's furious face; he and John B still focusing on Rafe despite the other Kooks that had gotten involved. Kie had disappeared between shouting bodies, presumably to get Pope, and you knew that you would have get the two other boys away from the fight by yourself.

You shouted their names but it made no difference, only when you threw yourself into the centre did they finally notice you, halting John B but not JJ.

"We need to go!" You shouted, the sound of a siren echoing in the distance just on cue.

The crowd quickly thinned out at that, but JJ and Rafe continued, ignoring the warnings from their friends around them. It took Topper and John B pulling them off each other to stop, and by that point there were red and blue lights flashing in the not too far off distance. The familiar colours seemed to snap JJ out of his trance. He looked at you, his face bloody and bruised, grabbed your hand, his knuckles also bloody and bruised, and ran.

It felt like you were all in the back of the Twinkie and speeding to the Chateau within seconds, throwing yourselves into the backseats as John B stepped on the gas before the door was even shut. You all took a moment to catch your breaths before speaking, surprising yourself by being the first one to break the quiet as the words erupted out of you.

"What the fuck was that? You could've gotten yourself arrested or seriously hurt!" You hissed at JJ.

He scoffed, his face unamused.

"Would've been worth it."

"Worth it for what? To feel like you have something over a Kook?"

"Did you not hear what he fucking said about you!" His voice raised but you were quick to match it.

"You overreacted! You ruined tonight with your ego - like you always do!”

"Oh I ruined it? Not the fucking creep who wanted to rape you."

"Shut the fuck up, JJ!" You loudly snapped but then Kie spoke, her tone incredulous, and caught you off guard.

"Yeah sorry to interrupt but I don't know how you expected him to not react like that. Rafe was bragging about seeing you naked to multiple people. I mean are you really okay with that?"

You blinked a couple of times before answering, attempting to collect your thoughts into a legible argument and then disprove her point.

"It doesn't matter. He was lying. He just wants a reaction out of us. And you gave him one!"

JJ scoffed at your answer, mentally thanking Kie for being the one to initiate the real conversation that needed to be had.

"Fuck a reaction, Y/N, he wasn't lying! He was there that night at Barry's and I know he would've hurt you too if I hadn't been there. I told you that!" He hissed. "I should've killed him!"

"But he didn't-"

"Look I'm sorry Y/N, but while we're on the subject, are we going to speak about that at all?" Kie cut you off, her voice fraught with stress. "I know we've all been acting like nothing happened for the past month but I think we need to address it."

You looked at her in shock, not quite believing the words coming out of her mouth. Your plan of pretending that nothing had happened hadn't worked? And your friend wanted to address it? You defensively opened your mouth but nothing came out, and then Pope jumped in unexpectedly.

"Yeah like, one minute we were at gunpoint thinking you might've drowned in the marsh, the next you were half dressed and not even able to walk, hardly able to talk. It was scary."

"It was messed up." John B agreed from the front seat.

All four of your best friends having something to say had stunned you entirely, a lump building in your throat and a weight in your chest. So your plan was definitely not going to work any longer - nor had it ever really worked in the first place. In fact, it might've made things worse. You looked around at their solemn faces nervously, feeling embarrassed and guilty.

"I- I- It was stupid. I shouldn't have been there. I'm sorry, okay?" You stammered, earning an exasperated groan from JJ.

"No you're not getting it! You shouldn't be apologising, you should be angry at them for daring to take advantage of you like that!" He exclaimed. "Imagine if they'd done that to Kie. Imagine if Kie drank too much and passed out and some guy took that as an opportunity to have sex with her! How would you feel then?"

You thought of what Rafe had said on the beach about your body - how violated it had made you feel. Then you thought of the confusion that you'd felt in the bath the morning after the incident had happened and how much your body had hurt. You thought of the snippets of memory you had from the actual assault; the invasive feeling of Barry inside of you and the pain that he'd gleefully put your body through, and you visualised Rafe being present to witness that - his sharp teeth bared in a smug grin as he took in your soiled body. It was all so dehumanising.

The thought of Kie experiencing any of that made you angrier than you cared to admit, and you hung your head in shame, suddenly understanding your friend's desire to get justice but still feeling too small to want your own.

"Okay. You're right. What happened was.. bad. It was wrong what they did to me, it shouldn't have happened." You conceded. "But can we just drop it? I want to forget anything ever happened."

"No, we can't just drop it! That's what we've been doing for the past month and that time is up!" JJ exclaimed. "Especially not after tonight. Did you not hear what Rafe said about you?"

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, rage visibly filling him up again as it had before the fight. But this time you didn't dare to calm him down.

"And he said it with a grin, right to my face! You expect me to just let him get away with that? Jesus! Just drop it. Like the asshole didn't just say all that shit to me - to you! Do you have no fucking respect for yourself or something?"

He was shouting at this point, his hands moving in exaggerated movements, and you were looking up at him feeling nothing but a strange sense of betrayal.

"Respect?" You repeated dryly. "You think I don't respect myself? Because I don't want you getting arrested?"

"See and now you're doing this on purpose, you're trying to change the conversation! You said he raped you twice! I mean, why the fuck did you even have to go there in the first place? Why the fuck couldn't you just stay clean? And the way you're acting now- I can't fucking deal with this shit. It's like you wanted something bad to happen to you-"

"Woah! That's way fucking out of line." Kie cut him off with a sharp hiss and soon they were arguing, all whilst you felt yourself getting slowly smaller and smaller inside of your body.

The shame had enveloped you wholly and you found yourself disassociating, viewing it all from a third person perspective instead of your own. The third person memories from that night at Barry's started to make sense now - you realised it was what your brain did when it couldn't bare to be physically present in the situation. You could see the wide mouths and bared teeth of Kiara and JJ, and feel the vibration of their shouting. You could even see Pope anxiously leaning over in fear of Kiara drunkenly hitting JJ, whilst John B listened intensely, eyes focused on the fast flying roads.

Only when the van parked and the doors flung open, JJ catapulting himself out, did you snap out of your trance. The noises became words again and the faces became people.

"I'm just saying you're not helping anything by saying shit like that!" Kie was close behind JJ, still clearly very heated whilst you and Pope slowly moved out of the back.

"Nothing I say seems to help. So stay the fuck out of my business!"

"Your business?"

"Are you okay?" John B appeared next to you with a concerned expression, bruises too forming on his face. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder but then retracted it upon seeing your uncomfortable expression.

"I'm fine." You answered, struggling to keep your voice flat. "I think I'm just gonna go home-"

"No! Don't leave, Y/N." Pope interrupted you and as you looked at him you realised that he had really taken a beating. It only made your chest ache more. "We- We didn't want to upset you. We just care about you. And JJ is.. drunk. You know how he gets. You can calm him down and then it'll all be alright-"

"I'm going home." You repeated sterner, eyes hovering over to the confrontation for a moment before turning away.

Their voices followed you but you ignored them, jumping on your bike and leaving. The wall of denial you'd managed to build was crashing down and you were now having to wade through the truth - poisonous flashbacks engulfing your field of view. Barry's hands, his cock, his mouth. Rafe's words, his gaze, his smile.

And not only did you have to deal with that truth, but there was also now the revolting revelation that the trauma hadn't just affected you, but your friends too. It took every part of you to stop yourself from imagining what they'd seen - how it had affected their view of you.

And then there was also what JJ had said in the Twinkie. How harsh it had been. How it seemed like maybe after all, he did blame you. And you weren't even sure if he was wrong for that.

With a panicked breath, you shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut for a second, desperately bringing yourself back to reality in a forced snap. You were lucky that you knew these roads so well, even in the dark.

The shouting of your friends had faded out into the distance now and there was an eery quiet, the squeaking of your wheels being the only sound other than the light wind.

You dipped your head and pedalled harder, trying to outrun the way your throat was tightening, the way your stomach turned every time JJ's voice replayed in your head; "Why the fuck couldn't you just stay clean?"

It only seemed to get louder, and then there was the noise of a motorbike behind you. Someone was following you - probably JJ - and so you started to pedal even harder, unable to bare his face. You were still drunk though, and your foot slipped, and then before you knew it you were on the ground, the bike on top of you and your side hurting.

You lay there for a moment, confused, distracted from everything, and it actually felt nice. An unexpected break in which all you felt was mild shock and confusion. But then you heard the motorbike again and became re-aware of your surroundings.

And it filled your body with despair.

A long, loud sob left your lungs - unlike any you'd ever released in front of anyone before - and then shorter copies continued to roll out, shaking your whole being as each one fell.

"Y/N! Shit. Are you hurt?" John B's voice came with the silence of the motor and he was quickly by your side, throwing the bike off you and bending down beside you.

You couldn't speak, shaking and choking on pain filled sobs. John B paused for a moment, trying to think of what he could say, before giving up and pulling you into a tight hug, relieved when you accepted it. He gently cooed as you cried into his chest, rocking side to side slightly in a desperate bid to soothe you.

"I'm sorry this happened, Y/N." He whispered, swallowing a hard lump in his throat.

There were no other words spoken for a short while, just your aching sobs. It hurt him to listen to and did nothing to quell the burning desire he had to hurt Rafe and Barry. He was at least able to keep that under control. After some time, your sobs eventually did die down and you were able to speak, lifting your head from John B's chest and wiping your eyes with your hands.

"I'm sorry." You choked out.

He looked at you with sorrow, his brows lifted and his eyes wide "Please stop apologising."

"I-I shouldn't have relapsed. I don't even want to be clean r-right now." You confessed, your voice shaking. Now that you had started you couldn’t stop though. It spilled out of you. "If JJ hadn't beat Barry up, I would be there getting high right now... A-And I know that's like- so fucked up, okay? I know that what he did- what-whatever the fuck happened- I know it was bad. But.. I deserved it."

"You didn't deserve it. How do we get this through your head?" John B sighed softly. "That's why JJ's so upset- he didn't mean all of that shit he said."

"Even if I somehow didn't ask for it- I've dragged you all into it and traumatised everyone with my bullshit. I just fucking hate it. I feel so humiliated. I wish you guys would just let things go."

John B put his hands on your shoulders and looked at you with sudden seriousness, his tone still soft but with an assertive edge.

"Why do you feel humiliated though? Because of them. Because of what they did." He held your gaze intensely. “You're not the one who should feel like that- they should. Imagine if it was Kie. You'd want to fucking kill them too."

"I know, I just- I don't know... It's all so much. I feel like I was kind of living in a world where it hadn't actually happened- until tonight. Now it's real and I... I feel... I don't know what I feel. It's like this horrible dread but.. it's already happened so what am I dreading?"

John B sighed again, feeling crushed by the weight of your question. He wished that he could do anything to take your pain away, but he couldn’t even think of the right words to quell you in one moment. He pulled you back into a hug.

"I don't know, but it's all gonna be alright. You've got us no matter what, the only reason any of us ever get mad at each other is because we care. And JJ cares the most and that's why he's always the maddest.”

"You think that's why he's such a hot head?" You scoffed with a weak sniffle, finally catching your breath.

"Yeah. I know it is. Trust me, I’ve known him forever.” John B answered. “And he is so in love with you, like- crazy in love with you… It just sucks that.. this is how you two finally fessed up. And he’s all like- fucked up over it and being a dick, but he doesn’t mean it.”

You nodded and agreed quietly “I know, it does suck.”

And then you both stood in comfortable silence for a short moment, your head finally calming down and your body no longer shaking. John B eventually broke the silence with a gentle question.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come back?”

You thought about it, considering what you would be coming back to. Kie and JJ were both unlikely to drop the subject, drunk and as stubborn as two mules. Even after they stopped arguing - if they did - you knew that the two of them would be talking about it for hours, making sly comments and jabs. Now that it had finally been brought up, maybe you did all need to talk about it for hours - calmly and maturely.

But you couldn’t do that. Not yet.

“Yeah I’m sure.” You answered, pulling away from his chest and then realising how wet you’d gotten his top. “Sorry about all the snot man.”

You both chuckled lightly at that.

“It’s cool, I’ll just wash it. Not like JJ hasn’t snot-rocketed on me more than a million times.”

“You’re both so gross for that.” You mused, having seen John B do it back to him just as many times.

He cracked a small smile, his heart rate finally slowing down.

“Yeah we are... Here look, I’ll drive you back now and pick up your bike on the way back, but you’ve got to promise me you’re not gonna do anything stupid to yourself.”

“Of course I’m not going to.” You almost sounded offended, then looked to your bike. “And what you’re just gonna leave my bike here while we’re gone?”

“Okay well I just had to check, these things aren’t always so obvious with you. And no one is going to steal that piece of shit bike. I’ll be ten minutes tops.”

With a light huff you gave in and soon you were on the back of JJ’s motorbike, racing to your house. When you arrived, you and John B both hugged tightly. He reminded you that he loved you and you said the same, then he sped back off into the night, certain to spend the next few hours deescalating conflict.

You watched him ride away, immensely grateful to have such a good friend. But when you stepped into your house, empty and dark, you remembered why you were there alone. The things that had happened as a direct result of you deciding to relapse and how much it had hurt the people around you.

And yet you still found yourself scrolling through your phone contacts, trying to work out if there was anyone you knew who could get you some pills.

Ahhh I really hope u all enjoyed! Let me know! <3

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

Alliances are built while minds crumble. An unexpected guest appears. The end draws near.

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [17] [19]

18 * Mirage [11.5k]

"Got a job got money got a place to be, Run though the desert trying to find me, me, me."

White on white - FIDLAR

        Markus was used to making split second decisions. He could rush to hide you, but then Mohawk, who had the same speedy perception as him, would see. Get pissed, know he was trying to hide you. Or he could let Mohawk see you, risk letting the unpredictable freak inside the building where you'd clearly just got done fucking Tracksuit. Both seemed like bad ideas. 

        Markus turned but didn't move from the doorway. Body blocking your frame.

        "Hey." Mohawk didn't seem to notice how strange Markus's positioning is. His dark eyes were wild and unfocused. He'd gone weeks without water, surviving off blood which only shriveled his brain. "You hear any of that," he pointed to the dull colored sky, "up there."

        Markus's eyes flicked to Gray who was also weighing the options of quickly hiding you versus hoping Mohawk just didn't spot you.

        "No." He'd been too busy scolding you and Tracksuit. Both standing behind him now. Listening. Wild cards he couldn't control. You weren't sure what you wanted to do, what this was about. They told you Mohawk had been in contact with them, but unreliable, unpredictable and insistent on staying alone. 

        Mohawk huffed out his nose. "Where's the others? Don't wanna relay this shit a billion times."

        Tracksuit didn't look at you as he put his mask back on, moving out the other busted window, lounging on it to block his view of you. "Right here, guy."

        "What about the gay one?"

        "I can hear you." Maskless floated over from the tent. Relieved to hear something that wasn't moaning or bickering.

        Mohawk nodded to himself, "Okay, okay, good, awesome, yeah." He didn't notice how weird it was three of the Marks blocked his view into the building. Too distracted by his pounding headache, the heat, and the gnawing fear. "We gotta move or like form defensive maneuvers or something or-" He swayed on his feet, holding his aching head a moment before continuing, "Assholes gonna come for you. Kill ya, take one of ya hostage and replace that pussy loser." His head lolled against his shoulder, hair drooping sad against his head. Suit ripped, exposing his arms just past the shoulders, shoving off slivers of his thighs. So tired. So worn. He just wanted to lay down and rest but there was never anywhere cool, safe, with water or with the thing he craved the most- you.

        You knew who the 'assholes' were, you needed to know about the other, your stomach twisting as you spoke without thinking, "Pussy loser?"

        Mohawk snapped upright. Unsure what he'd just heard. He'd been hearing a lot of things in the quiet desert lately. Mainly your voice or his fathers whispering over his shoulder or in his blank dreams. 

        Sand shifted softly inside the building. The Marks in the windows tensed but stayed silent. Hoping you'd just stay inside, let Mohawk believe it was a heat mirage, but you needed to know. You pushed at Seb's back, "Move." He did. Unsure if that was the best idea but feeling like he owed you some pliancy. 

        Mohawk had to be hallucinating. There was no way a human like you could still be alive out here. But there you were despite him rubbing his eyes. The sun reflected gold on your sweat-slicked skin, shoulders unburdened with stress in the sweet afterglow of sex. He didn't feel himself step forward, couldn't stop his arms from reaching out for your skin to make sure it was real, you were real. "(Y/n)?"

        Gray floated into his path, "You can speak to her after we've-" Mohawk grabbed him by the arm and flung him away with shocking force. He rushed forward, half-expecting his arms to go straight through you but his hug lands home, wrapping around your body. He nuzzled his stubbly jaw into your (hair/scalp) inhaling deep. You smelled terrible but unmistakably like yourself. You groaned in his grip, ribs on the verge of bruising. He chuckled an apology, holding back tears as he looked into your face. Thumbs coming to your cheeks, poking and stretching, making double sure.

        Squished lips part, "You can quit it now." You grunted, not knowing how much your voice was a melody to him.

        He didn't think about the others, the repercussions, he just kissed you. Pressing his lips hurriedly to your forehead, your cheeks and finally your mouth. Teeth meeting your forcibly puckered lips. Worming his tongue past your surprised defenses, tasting you, tasting meat, tasting...

        Markus tore him off, "You're hurting her." 

        You stumbled back against the concrete building. Mohawk's eyes wide, set on you, not even acknowledging Markus' hand on his shoulder. "Who the fuck was that?"

        You violently rubbed at your mouth now infected with the taste of stale blood, "What?" 

        All preconceived notions were out the window. He wasn't thinking right. Relieved. Scared. Pissed. Dehydrated. "Who the fuck were you just kissing?" 

        Behind Mohawk, Markus fixed you with a look. One that made you want to rebel against daddy but you knew he knew better. Don't tell him. Don't rub anything in his face right now. He's dangerous.

        You'd play along. Bitch out Markus later. "I'm not your girlfriend, dude. I'm not gonna taste the same."

        "If you look and sound the same, you're not gonna taste different. Who?" His gaze slid to Seb. "Was it you?" His hiss was venomous, completely murderous. 

         Seb held up his hands, "Haven't seen you in forever but I still believe in bro code, man."

        Mohawk nodded to himself like it wasn't the most obvious lie ever. He turned to Markus.

        "Must've been you." Partly true but he didn't need to know that. "Did you make her call you Daddy or something? Huh? You sick f-"

        Gray was a flash. "Enough." Suddenly they were both yards away. He had him on the ground before you could even process, Gray's boot pressed to Mohawk's neck. "This is unimportant to the issue at hand. Where are they now? Are we in immediate danger?"

        "I don't have a fuckin' GPS on them you," Mohawk grabbed him by the ankle, tried shoving him off with an, "idiot." This time Gray was expecting the attack, budged but not far, foot pinning him back into the sand. Mohawk choked, sinking into the soft ground. "I'm not the one you should be worried about. Like I told you, they're coming to-" Mohawk shifted, tried to dislodge Gray with a kick to the side but Gray was unmoved, sustained by food and water where Mohawk was not. "-kill you!"

        Gray didn't let up. For one, it was a good idea to keep crazy in check. For two, Mohawk had forced himself on you so openly, then had to audacity to be angrier than he was at the situation. What a silly, stupid man he was. Gray could not wait to be rid of him.

        "Let him up." 

        Gray's foot didn't release. Your control bounced off him like a rubber bullet. You tried, "Please?" Not expecting it to work.

        He barely lifted his foot, lost his focus to look at you, but it was enough for Mohawk to slip away on his back. Huffing and shaking off sand as he hovered above the ground.

        Mohawk eyed him darkly, "Was it you?"

        A nasty human part of him was tempted to tell Mohawk you'd sucked his dick, to upset him. The Viltrumite half of him overruled- but only barely. "As I said it's inconsequential."

        That seemed good enough for Mohawk. So dazed he couldn't detect double-speak. He made no move to choke you out in another hug so Gray made no move to pin him down. Annoyed as he was that you didn't want Mohawk on the ground where Gray felt he belonged. 

        You pointed at Mohawk, "By pussy bitch you mean Phantom, right?" Mohawk nodded stupidly, just happy to hear your voice now, to have your attention. "He's alive?" Another nod.

        "Those shitheads have been eatin' 'im alive." Mohawk doesn't tell you he's been eating him too. Though you already had a pretty good idea of the situation based on the taste lingering on your tongue.

        Markus can see the idea before it's even a twinkle in your eye. "Don't make him take you on a suicide mission. He's weak. You'll both die."

        "I'm not weak." Mohawk snarled as if he wasn't about to wilt in the sun.

        "Then we all go!" You snapped. "There's two of them, six of us! They have no chance."

        The truth of that rolled through the group like the hot wind on the dunes. It wouldn't be a hard fight. It'd be over fast. There'd be at least two bodies worth of Mark jerky to eat. Except none of them trusted each other and they all knew it. Had felt it when you were gone, there was nothing holding them together without you. There was no guarantee everyone would survive the fight, especially you in your fragile human body. A worse alternative, if you didn't go, somebody could be on the verge of death and cry out, 'Stop, I'll tell you where (Y/n) is if you don't kill me!' No Mark Grayson took defeat gracefully. 

        They had no synergy in battle, hadn't trained since landing here. When the fight was done, one of them could be hurt, easy to kill, and the others just might converge in for extra meat and another Mark off the competition roster. Markus and Seb shouldn't exactly be on a battlefield together at the moment.

        None of them say it. All of them hope the others aren't thinking it, but they are. Nobody trusts the others enough. Cocky in their strength but worried the others would dog pile when they were down.

        "I have a better plan." Gray said. 

        Mohawk watched the sky, eyes erratic. "Can we maybe talk about it somewhere less out in the open, shithead?"

        ***

        The cave was lit by a sunbeam, traveling miles upon miles down, a reminder you weren't trapped anymore. You stood on the spotlight's edge, it was far as you'd go into the cave. They needed to relocate, had to gather supplies for a journey, it was the only good option for the moment, and Gray insisted on going to collect food. You thought he meant any lingering bugs, maybe the fungal garden he'd talked about digging up. But you were mostly dwelling on the fact you felt no sense of closure being here again. When they said you had to come with them, you didn't fight. Wanted to see this place one last time and say goodbye to it on your terms. 

        Most of the cave had filled with sand, the Queen's pool was polluted with the stuff. Mohawk dove into the water without a second thought, drinking until he almost threw it all up, but all you could think about was Mark kissing you in the clear water, the sound of chittering bugs surrounding you. You could no longer hear them, the Queen's body and the thousands of dead decomposing eggs filled the cavern with the scent of rot. The Marks moved efficiently around you like the bugs used to. Somehow with your kingdom crumbled, you still rule. 

        Seb fashioned pieces of the Queen's shell into vases to hold as much water as possible. Maskless stayed above ground, keeping constant vigilant guard for the alleged incoming threat. Markus stood behind you, offering, "I can take you up if it's too much."

        Your eyes scanned the sand for Mark's body but found nothing. Maskless had told you he was buried. Good, he deserved that much. But you still felt sick seeing the cave and not him. Not knowing what he did to himself, what you did to him.

        "I'm still pissed at you." You said. He didn't argue because he didn't agree with your frustration, wasn't sorry for getting upset. You did something stupid, childish and now you were trying to act like you hadn't made a mistake. Like you weren't shaking, feeling the heavy guilt deep in your gut for fucking Seb then coming back to Mark's grave. It'd do your marriage no good to rub your nose in it, so Markus let you feel what he'd been trying to protect you from. 

        He knew you were crying though your back was to him. Could tell by the set of your shoulders and stuttered breaths. He watched you while you stared at the sand pile, trying not to dive into it. Neither of you watching the other two in the smoke filled hamster hut. 

        Gray didn't apologize for attacking and Mohawk didn't attack. The truce was glass-brittle, but they worked together silently. Gray was using the sheet of your worn cot as a sack to store the smoked meats inside while Mohawk tore off pieces of a Mark ribeye with his teeth. Occasionally moving a piece into the sack for Gray.

        He'd relay the plan to the others later but for now he wanted to hammer home it's importance with Mohawk, who was clearly a loose cannon.

        He spoke as he pulled long stripes of dried thigh off the makeshift wrack. "You must understand why we don't want her around them."

        "I'm not stupid," Mohawk said with a mouthful of meat. 

       Gray didn't agree, but kept talking. "(Y/n) thinks she wants to fight, but what she really wants is Phantom dead."

        Mohawk remembered the fight. The suspicion of Phantom. The confirmation of Scars and Lensless questioning him everyday and you not being with them, dead or alive. He knew the freak was involved but not the extent. The memory made him angry nonetheless, "Knew I should've killed that emo fuck."

        Gray shook his head. Mohawk had reported his condition while you all flew over. You seemed partly enthused, partly annoyed by the news. Wished you could've done it yourself.

        Gray said, "It'd be best for us to remove Phantom from the equation quietly, but (Y/n) wouldn't like that. She's smart for a human, she'd find a way to make us confess." He knew most of the others wouldn't be able to withstand your mental control- those who could would fall prey to your more manipulative tactics. He wasn't sure he could hide anything if you touched him again. "We have to bring him to us, let her kill him herself. That way, she won't have any reason to walk into immediate danger and those two will wear themselves down without food or entertainment."

        Mohawk quirked a brow, mind returning to him more with every chew and swallow. "We can't trust him you know."

        "We won't keep him alive long. Just enough for him to tell us more about the others condition and talk to (Y/n). I'm eighty percent sure she will want answers for what transpired here." Gray tested lifting the sack. Heavy and straining, but it could take a few more pounds. 

        "What'd he do?" 

        "(Y/n) hasn't fully divulged." As if Gray would tell him if he knew. 

        Mohawk grunted into another bite. "And what if I wanna kill those assholes myself?"

        Gray leveled him with a stare. Eyes near black unlike Mohawk's chocolaty rich hue. "They'll kill each other for us, they're unstable as is. No risk on our part." Mohawk opened his mouth to argue, but Gray doubled down, "You want to live to be with (Y/n), correct?" His mouth shut. Gray didn't like the idea of keeping Mohawk around, but knew there was strength in numbers. Despite how things hashed out when you went missing, he wouldn't let it happen again. "Then we are agreed."

       ***

       Seb dragged the impromptu pots over. One in each hand. Huge and sloshing.

        "There's some left," Seb reported, "But I don't wanna risk spilling so we can come back for the rest later."

         Markus nodded but made no move to help. He thought Seb would do well to struggle and think about what he'd done, and more importantly Markus was planning to carry you to safety, across the new threshold wherever they decided to hunker down. He looked to the sky above the cave, found Maskless floating still. No signs of danger yet but still the others should, "Hurry up."

        Just then Mohawk and Gray exited the hamster hut. A rugged sack slung over Gray's shoulder, hanging heavy with smoked meat. The smell penetrated through the rot and punched you in the gut. You knew all at once what was in that bag. You wanted to hurt Gray for holding it. Wanted to force them all to tell you who'd done the processing, but all of them had probably helped- all of them kept this from you. Except for one.

        There was no time to lash out. Not with the impending threat.

        You turned to Mohawk, trailing behind Gray, gait much steadier than it'd been before but nowhere as healthy as his companion. "Wherever we're going, you're flying me." You didn't need powers to make him do it. 

        A wry smile slid across his cracked lips. "Was jus' gon ask, baby." He trotted to your side, took you into his arms like you belonged there. He was much gentler this time, even asked, "This good?" You nodded and he beamed. Tired, sunburned, feeling butterflies. 

        "(Y/n)-" Markus started.

        "Don't talk to me." 

        ***

        The rock was cool. Retaining the heat from the day but not baking you alive. Gray spotted the slab of stone after an hour of flying low and slow. After scouting the area and deeming it Lensless and Scars free, construction began. Construction being Gray spinning like a drill and hollowing the thing out. Only leaving a narrow hidden hole at the bottom to get in and out of. You refused to go inside until there were more exits. Tiny punched holes in the roof for slits of light so you could remember- you weren't back in the cave.

        He obliged with curt nods. Never once talking to you. Not under control but respecting your wishes. You'd need time to process and he was okay with that. He was just happy you hadn't yelled at him like you had Markus on the flight over. While he worked, the others gathered scraps from the wastes. Always with an eye on the sky. Wondering if they were going to spot Scars and Lensless. Wondering if the momentary peace was going to shatter. You stayed outside while the work was done, trying to make yourself a bed. 

        "Piece of shit." You hissed as the garbage disintegrated in your hands. You'd been trying to make a place to sleep for the past half-hour with what little you had to zero success. Just a birds nest of useless crap.

        As it turned out, Mohawk was right. Scars and Lensless were on the prowl. When Maskless and Seb went back to the camp to grab supplies after convincing Gray they'd be careful. They got dangerously close to camp before spotting Scars' torn cape. They hid behind a dune, watching, calculating if this was a fight they could win, two on two. Seb thought yes, Maskless thought no. When Seb shifted to fight, Maskless held him back shaking his head. 

        They watched as the duo raided camp. Tore the tent apart. Turned the concrete ruins into rubble, calling out, "Come out, come out wherever you are!"

        They didn't move. Waited until they got bored and left, heading in the opposite direction of the new camp to their relief. They took what they could from camp, but it wasn't much. The cots were shredded and Lensless stole Seb's beloved hammock for himself. Asshole.

        They returned in a sweaty panic. Explaining everything as Gray swept the remnants of the rock dust outside. Gray insisted scouting end for the day, that everyone come inside at once. Nobody argued. Even you, whose body prickled from being in an enclosed space again. So soon after returning to that cave and the memories it brought back. You had to remind yourself over and over of the hidden exits. The light filtering through the roof in tiny dots. 

        The boys talked shop. The threat level, how safe it was here, how they were going to parse out food, when and if they should attack first. On the other hand, you stayed alone in a corner. Given up on the cot. Idly sticking a sharp piece of metal through scraps of cloth to make... you don't even know. You just needed something to do with your hands.

        Night fell. The first in this new palace of stone. You pushed off Markus's quiet offer of cuddling. Refused Gray's offer of a patchwork blanket he'd made in a matter of minutes. You curled alone by the fire, shoved into the corner away from the exits. Ceiling holes patched for the night with cloth so no fire light escaped. The floor was freezing even so close to the fire. Nothing was comfortable. The smoke smell reminds you of Mark's meat sat across the base, hidden behind a stack of rocks. As if you not seeing it would hide the truth of what they'd done.

        Bugs crawled between your fingers. The last handful alive had found you hours after leaving the queen's chamber. Came chattering along, carapaces milky with age. They'd all die soon. You could go back to the cave, pick through the rubble and eat the dead, but you were sure they were decomposed by now. There was only one option left and you knew it. Hated it, but had trouble admitting to yourself- it was probably the right move. Still, you turned around when Gray looked at you. Ignored Markus when he tried to talk to you. Shoved off Seb's jokes. Maskless didn't acknowledge you and for that, you were thankful. He had always been the most understanding when it came to your time in the cave. 

        "Wanna share body heat?" Mohawk stood over you, watching you shiver.

        The last time you saw him, he rifled through your phone and pissed you off so bad Mark thought it'd be a great idea to take you into the caves he killed himself in. You fixed him with a glare. "We're not friends."

        He bit back the urge to say, 'We're more.' He was worn, but not emotionally stunted.

        He sat heavily by your feet, voice soft, "Heard you went through hell."

        "I don't want to talk to you." Ouch but at least you were speaking to him. At least you hated those other guys right now, not him. 

        He laid himself behind you. All too aware of the others watching him. "Don't gotta talk to be warm." He held his arm over your waist, waiting for approval to bring it down.

        "I have the fire." You grunted.

        That wasn't a no. His arm draped over your waist, pulled your back flush to his warm front. The floor was still freezing but Mohawk was like a furnace. You didn't relax into him but you let it happen, took the comfort you desperately needed. Markus's discomfort, palpable from across the room, was a plus. 

        ***

        You counted the days as they passed. One, two, seven, nine. The first few were wrought with tension. Everyone but Mohawk, who had no idea, was pissed at Seb. You both were annoyed by Markus though you didn't share this with Seb. He'd kept the jerky from you too so right now you weren't feeling very buddy-buddy.

        You ate the last of the bugs as they died of old ages skittering in your palms. There'd been a few close calls where Scars and Lensless flew overhead. The worst happened one morning when they landed on the bases roof. Everyone went still. Prayed to God they wouldn't hear the surge of heartbeats through the rock and fabric covered holes.

        They only touched down a second. Lensless heaving and telling Scars to, "Slow down."        

        "No." Scars snapped. "This is survival, we can't just slow down."

        "We should still conserve energy." Lensless huffed. "Dunno when we'll run into those weaselly assholes."

        Scars made a noncommittal noise before his boots left the roof. "Come on."

        Lensless sighed. Debris rained as they took off.       

         Nobody moved for minutes until Mohawk snapped, "Are we all just a bunch'a pussies? They were right there!"

        "Keep your voice down," Maskless said.

        "You didn't make a move either." Markus said.

        Mohawk reeled on him, "Because I know you pussies wouldn't back me up." 

        None of them object. You do, "I would. We can still go." 

        Mohawk was a strange case. He was obnoxious, always ready to bite someone's head off, but he didn't turn your boyfriend into jerky. He backed you up on arguments with Markus he had nothing to do with. He kept you warm at night. He told Gray to stop fucking you with his eyes so much. 

        You weren't quite friends like you and Seb were, even closer post-fuck with lots of time to talk about nothing (when you momentarily forgot you were mad at him and got lonely) but you didn't exactly hate Mohawk either. You wouldn't die for him, but you were more than okay with the idea of helping him kill those fuckers. 

        "No, you're not," Markus said like he was judge, jury, and executioner. Intent on protecting you though you'd been snappish and cold toward him for days.

        "You can't stop me." You said knowing he could. Knowing despite your fully healed leg you couldn't control Markus. You thought you had in Japan when you first met but you saw it now- he was just placating his wife. You added, "I can make the others stop you from keeping me here."

        His eyes darkened. "You can barley control those two at the same time." 

        Seb barked out a, "Hey!"

        Maskless rolled his eyes. Hating that he was your personal training dummy. "We're not having this conversation again. Nobody's letting (Y/n) leave because you idiots won't admit she's a valuable asset who could make sure those freaks don't move while we lop their heads off. This wouldn't be a hard decision if you weren't all selfish assholes."

        Mohawk narrowed his eyes on Maskless. "Why do you care all of a sudden?" Nobody had fessed up to whose spit was on your breath days ago. For all Mohawk knew, Maskless switched teams. 

        Maskless looked exasperated. "I don't. I just know if I was alone in the desert, you would've killed me already. The only reason you haven't is because I'm the one who found her." It was a truth they'd all been dancing around. Maskless wasn't part of the wider universal play involving you, he'd fallen to the wayside. No one but Seb would care if he died. Once the jerky dried up, he was next.

        "Why would we do that?" Markus snapped though they all knew why. A Mark alone was a sitting duck waiting to be eaten by the duo. The only reason Mohawk hadn't been was he was fast. Avoidant. 

        You vaguely recalled Maskless pulling you out of the cave. The hours after him splinting your leg. You should've said it days ago, "Thanks for that by the way, even if you just did it to keep yourself alive."

        He rolled his eyes but said nothing. He felt a bit guilty about you knowing, but it was the truth. 

        Markus didn't like where this was going. "She's not a survival totem."

        Maskless threw up his arms, "She literally is! The only reason we have food and water is because of her." The bugs and the Mark meat. "Those two want her, she could be bait and we could sneak up on them or something. Anything's better than just sitting here doing nothing."

        Mohawk bobbed his head along. "Gay one's got a point."

        Maskless's lips thinned. Gray's expression gave no tells. "It's too dangerous to use her at bait." A few weeks ago he'd think differently but now all he saw when he looked at you was pleasure unclaimed. Too rare to give up.

        Maskless didn't care. He just needed the quiet part they'd all been avoiding to be said, "She already is bait to you people. The only reason you assholes haven't killed each other yet is you don't want to die in the fight and not be the last guy standing who gets to fuck her till you both die." He turned to you, "I'm sure you're great and all but this macho bullshit is insane. Can't we just take care of the problem now so it's not one later?"

        "No." Markus wasn't listening to the greater point, just digging in his heels like he always did.

        This could go on forever. You stood, "I'm going to bed."

        You went to warmest corner you could and curled into a shivering ball. Peace and almost quiet, until Seb came over. Gray and Markus watched him as they bickered on. 

        "You look like you need this more than me." He said as you uncurled.         

        You cringed at the fabric. It used to be white, but it'd since gone gray with sweat and sand stains. His tank top, the only thing worthwhile him and Maskless recovered from camp. He hadn't worn it for a long while. The sight of it made you remember it's absence during your encounter. His bare chest. A dull heat lit in your stomach.

        "Didn't think we were at the sharing clothes stage." You mumbled as you took it, slipped it over your head and let it come around you like a terrible smelling blanket. 

        He huffed out his nose, flopping down beside you. Mask pushed back into his hair. He'd worn it a lot less since then too. Only worn under the sun to protect his face going tomato red and peely. The others saw his face, so what was the point in hiding what they all knew was there anyway? 

        He gave you a look like you didn't make him cum twice. "Seriously?"

        You shrugged, his shirt pressing in, thin and barely retaining your heat. "Never did that with any of mine." You keep the words vague, watching Mohawk's back. Thinking of the first Mark who broke your heart. Accidentally wearing his sweaty socks the morning after, his boxers too loose under your pants. You hadn't done that with anyone else. 

        "I mean, me neither but-" He paused when Markus turned to him a mildly murderous look. "Yeesh." Seb threw out his voice for the whole room to hear, "Don't mind us being normal and well adjusted over here."

        Heads turn, faces are made. It's Maskless who speaks, "Cool, yeah, just step outside the conversation about our survival, guys."

        Seb rose a middle finger with a lazy smile. Maskless chuffed but said nothing else. Turning back to the others to bitch them out. "See that?" Seb said.

        "What?"

        "Asshole didn't attack me cuz we're cool." They had to be, trapped in the desert alone together for to weeks. Maskless knew Seb cared, knew Seb was just as stressed and was better than him- able to step away for a breather. "We're like, totally buddies now."

        "No, we're not." Maskless said mid-argument with Markus before getting right back to it.

        "He doesn't mean that." Seb whispered.

        "Yes I do."

        "He doesn't." 

        Maskless dropped it. Seb grinned, lighting a new feeling in your stomach, jealousy. They had a bond you didn't have with anyone. It'd been a week out in the new hideout but you'd been dismissive and avoidant of anything longer than a five minute conversation. If you wanted that, you'd have to engage. Come out of the mental cave Mark trapped you in. You were going to die out here, you'd accepted that in the cave. Why not make more friends? Why not try to be happy? You had nothing but time with them, no rent, no quota to reach for Machine Head, you were more free than you had ever been. It wasn't like you'd had to try very hard for them to care about you and plus, if they did care about you- they just might take you to Phantom. With him gone you could put Mark to rest.

        You closed your eyes and focused on the crackling fire.

        The argument went in hotel-revolving-door circles while you slept. 

        That daddy-loving freak never gave. He said you should always be protected, always be safe, but how could you be with the assholes prowling the desert?  Mohawk argued until he couldn't hold it in, he needed to hit something but daddy-wannabe dearest would whine about the attention it'd draw. So he left, flying into the atmosphere hoping the thinning air would help him think.

        Of course he didn't want those freaks to kill you, but he wanted to see you murder those freaks at the same time. He wanted to see you get revenge- God the idea of you pissed and bloody got him going. But he couldn't relish the moment if he was busy holding off Scars and Lensless if only-

        He almost didn't hear the flap of fabric. Mohawk spun, fist reeled back, ready to bash Scars head in.

        Gray hovered in the black night. Arms tucked behind his back. "You watched them for a time, yes?"        

        Mohawk paused but didn't unwind. High above the camp, where no one could see or hear them fighting- perfect grounds for an ambush killing. "Yeah." 

        "Where are they usually at this time of night?"

        "Sleeping or eating parts of that other guy."

        Gray nodded. "And how long do they usually do that for?"        

        ***

       Mohawk looked over the dunes. Camp a spot in the distance. Early day sun beating on his skin. "You really think they won't hear?" 

        "They will." Gray said evenly, "They'll most likely come to investigate as well. We'll tell them if they do."

        Mohawk blinked at the other man. The two of them hovered feet over the sand. Well, three of them technically, but Phantom wasn't floating, he was laying on Mohawk's back. Seeping blood and drool into his torn suit. 

        "I thought you said we wouldnt tell any-"

        Gray didn't wait for him to finish. He dove into the rock they'd found jutting out of the ground. Impact a firework crack in the dawn. Surely picked up by everyone at camp, considering they were only a mile away. Gray was back at his side, dust and rocks already spun off his nearly pristine uniform before Mohawk could curse him out. "I said we wouldn't tell (Y/n) for some time." 

        Mohawk's nostrils flared but he lowered into the freshly dug cavern. Entrance hidden under a small rocky ledge. "So you just conveniently left out the part where everyone else finds out and is pissed at us- mostly me because your slimy ass is gonna lie and say you weren't involved."

        "Lying is not productive." Gray followed him inside. Watched as Mohawk threw Phantom down. He landed in a slumped seat, unreacting and pale. Obtaining Phantom wasn't the hard part, it was making sure Scars and Lensless were far enough away to get in and out. Gray was sure they were weak- human flesh and blood dehydrated the body, clouded the mind. But they seemed surprisingly lucid, leaving their camp lightning quick just as the sun was rising. As though eating Phantom's limbs raw had made them better. Maybe it had. They'd waited for hours, scooped Phantom up and flew fast and hard until they were sure they hadn't been seen. 

        "What's your plan then?" Mohawk appreciated Gray's attitude, but was wary. Gray's eyes seemed to glaze over him- like he'd already decided he was an afterthought just like dad had. Mohawk proved dad wrong, dead wrong. Was itching to do the same thing to Gray if need be.

        Gray lowered to his haunches, pulling a vial from his waistband. "(Y/n) wants revenge. She'll get it but-" he paused to unwrap Phantom's gauze, exposing hot, throbbing wounds, reeking with infection, "-she'll have to wait."

        Mohawk watched him work the liquid into the red stumps. "Why not just let him hurt?"

        Gray didn't stop. "He's hours from death and (Y/n) isn't ready to see him. She'll kill him on sight and live to regret not getting answers. He has to be lucid. If it makes you feel better, its a healing accelerant not a pain killer."

        Markus couldn't have come at a better time. Leaving the other two to watch (Y/n) while he investigated that sudden noise outside. He didn't need to ask any questions to know what was going on. The secret hideout, the wound-healing-accelerator on Phantom's stumps, everything he overheard. He'd thought of it too, bringing the revenge to (Y/n) but he wasn't sure- Gray was. He could admire that.

        He could feel Mohawk's apprehension, waiting for the scolding he associated with Markus.

        "How long until he's stable?" Markus asked.

        "Few days." Gray said. "A week at most, the infection is in his blood."

        Mohawk hovered by the exit. Anxious to see (Y/n), ring burning in his pocket. "Stable but not able to hurt her right?"

        "Theoretically he could still kill her in this state." Gray finished, hands bloodied. He made a note to bring rags and a small basin of water. "But he won't." 

        "You can see the future now or what?" Mohawk said.

        "I spoke with Maskless." Gray said holding back a smile. He liked the little nicknamed you'd given them all very much. They were helpful and personal and made him happy. "He claimed Phantom talked about working extensively with the human government-"

        Mohawk clicked his tongue, "Yeah, so did I, doesn't mean anything."

        "I did as well." Markus said, and knew working alongside the GDA did not mean you were a good person. 

        Gray didn't know why he was surprised by this. They just seemed so... sure of themselves, like they didn't need someone in there ear telling them what to do- like Gray had all his life.

        "Ah." He rose, moving his hands so fast the blood flung off of them and painted the walls. He could make a hideout for Phantom but never promised a good one, he didn't deserve it. "Maskless also reported his (Y/n) was killed by his father, not by him." It was said without emotion, yet Markus and Mohawk felt like they'd been hit with a bowling ball. Phantom was pathetic, desperate, but in one singular way, better than them both.

        Mohawk prowled forward, fists balled. "Don't act like you're better than me-"

        Gray watched him come, saying evenly, "I mean nothing by it. I killed her of my own volition."

        That gave Mohawk pause, "Well, I didn't." He spat, almost feeling like the bigger man. Knowing he wasn't. He could've controlled himself better. He thought part of him gutted her on purpose. Sometimes he wondered if she survived if he would've killed her anyway.

        "She is dead." Gray said matter-of-factly before nodding his head in the direction of camp, "She is not. You came for a second chance, so did he. We must trust he won't ruin it." He moved around Mohawk and flew quietly back to camp. 

        ***

        Lensless's back hit the wall, which shattered around them. They struggled against one another until they fell heavy down into the sand. Scars atop him, hands fisted in his collar. "Where is he!?"

        Lensless who had just gotten home from a day of fruitless scouting, blinked up stupidly at Scars- before the fist came cracking up under his chin.

        He was reeling but laughed as he said, "What are you talking about, dude?"

        Thinking this was some game, some kind of roleplay scenario Scars made to fight. Fine by Lensless. He hadn't been able to properly flex his muscles in weeks. He missed fighting, missed killing more.

        "He's gone!" Scars lunged. 

        Lensless narrowly dodged, feeling a gust of wind slap across his face. "No way. He has one leg and can't talk. There's no way he got away."

        Scars pivoted midair. "That's what I thought until I realized- the only person would could've taken him was you." He was coming again. Faster than Lensless could dodge. Fist pushing up into his solar plexus, sending him shooting into the air, blood spewing from his dry lips.

        "I didn't!" Lensless whined as he put on the brakes. Launching himself toward Scars rather than waiting. 

        "You knew we'd run out of him eventually. You hid him from me to have all the meat to yourself!"

        They met. Fist to hand, holding each other off with straining muscles and scowls. "Is it so hard to believe someone could've rescued him?" Lensless half-snarled, half-grinned.

        "We haven't seen anyone else in weeks!" Scars knee came up and kissed Lensless's crotch. He doubled over, opening his back for Scars elbow to come down. 

        Lensless landed in the hot uncaring sand. A cloud formed around him, sucking particles into his lungs with every breath. Scars landed hard, one foot on Lensless's chest ready to push down, break it open, pierce his heart on a rib. Lensless grabbed his ankle bruisingly hard, bearing teeth as he said, "We haven't seen bones either, bro." 

        ***

        Mohawk's hair brushed against the cave roof. "Come on, babe, you gotta try harder than that if you want it back." 

        You had been trying for the better part of five minutes to get him to come down. At first you were able to make him float down, nearly land, but soon as your single stolen boot was in reach, the control would wane and he'd snap back to the ceiling. Taunting you again. 

        Day fourteen with these assholes in the new base. Things weren't bad. You'd been trying to loosen up which was hard when you'd been so tightly wound these last few years. Not holding grudges was something you were unaccustomed to. Often you had to look to Seb for inspiration on how to be easy going. Conversation flowed from him in spigots despite how angry everyone was at him two weeks ago. He didn't seem to care, always sharing a story that related to something. Always funny or fucked up but relatable, endearing. 

        Markus made a point to never laugh at his jokes, but you swore you saw him half smile whenever you did. He hovered around you an annoying amount. After a few days you stopped batting him away as hard. You hadn't forgiven him, but it was better to not stay bitter- a habit that was difficult to grow out of. He never held anything against you, even when you were shitty. It made the idea of talking to him, messing with him a little more appealing- fun. Your affections cast like bait he always bit at and the more time went on, the more you liked the bite. Markus liked to act tough, but when you talked to him, were sweeter on him than you had been in weeks, he melted like wax. Relaxed those broad shoulders and chiding tone. 

        Then there was Gray. With stories of his own that were mildly terrifying with how dystopian they were. He hovered, nowhere nearly often as Markus, always off somewhere doing something for hours on end. You thought he was scavenging so you never thought to ask. He helped you build beds and a terrible storage bin that collapsed in on itself every two days, but you always came together to rebuild it. Hoping it'd hold but it never did. You swore Gray sabotaged it on purpose.

        Maskless watched the romcom bullshit from the sidelines. Most often found with Seb talking about nothing. Hands always busy breaking down kindling or sewing Seb a hammock or air boxing. The idea of sparring had been thrown around too many times to count but Markus always shot it down, seconded by Gray everytime. It'd attract attention. 

        Meanwhile, you trained here and there. Working with your latest, very willing test subject, Mohawk. Who you kept trying to goad into taking you to kill Phantom. He'd just smile and say, "When you don't suck," and steal something of yours in hopes you could control him into giving it back.

        At first, you could make him give it back. But after days of no food only water, your strength was starting to wane. The others had busted out the Mark meat not long ago. You always left when they did, sitting on the other end of the cave. His smell stuck inside your nose as you tried not to imagine how his flesh would melt in your mouth. The more days went by, the less you vividly you could remember him. It'd only been thirteen days after all. You spent more time with this group than him by now. And you wondered why you were still holding on. You felt silly for it. But you still hadn't eaten. It showed in how Mohawk barely moved when you said, "Get your ass down here."

        Hands on his narrow hips he hummed, "I don't think I will!"

        His cocky grin made your guts flip. It reminded you of Mark. The before Mark. The pre cave crazy Mark. It wasn't fair he was hot. Fine, two could play at that game. "I'll hold your hand."

        He cackled, "You think I'm gonna go easy on you to hold your hand?"

        "For a whole minute. Won't move away or nothin'," you waved at him, "this baby is all yours." It was a push and pull game, the flirting. Once you started you couldn't stop, finding that leaning into affection felt better than leaning away. It helped you forget. Replace the bad memories, shitty as it made you feel.

        Heels hit the ground so hard they cracked rock. Mohawk snatched your hand from the air, held one between two, staring at it like a precious diamond. You actually didn't think it'd work. Didn't think holding your hand would mean that much to anybody. Thought at least, you'd have to barter to a kiss on the cheek or something more intimate- or that he wouldn't take the deal at all. Training was a good idea but you hit a wall without eating anything. You wouldn't eat Mark. Not yet. 

        Markus didn't look up from the water he was boiling. "That's not training."

        "I think making the ruler of a powerful empire do what I say is something but you do you." 

        Mohawk batted his lashes at you, squeezing your hand between his, "You think my empire is powerful?"

        "No shit, it's an empire."

        He grinned and interlaced your fingers. Without a timer and without a care, the touch lingered longer than a minute.

        ***

        They stood in the remains. Broken down in their fight that lasted too long. Energy wasted on bickering when they should've been looking for Phantom. They sifted through the rubble, looking for dried brown trails, sniffing for blood so hard they were lightheaded. Except they'd been lightheaded for weeks. Surviving on blood had crossed some wires, fried the others, left them perpetually achy and brain fogged. 

        Which was probably why it took them so long to realize they weren't betraying each other. 

        Lensless chucked another piece of rubble that looked just like the rest. "He's definitely not in here."

        "No shit." Scars said.

        Lensless kicked another piece. "Definitely not anywhere. Just gone. Disappeared like the rest of them."

        Scars was quiet a moment, trying to envision that day you'd gone missing, to see the other versions of him. "How many of us were there when we first came?"

        Lensless thought hard, pressing on his eyes. "I don't remember."

        ***

  ��     "Just eat it." Easy enough for Seb to say, chewing a piece down to the juices in his cheek. "Tastes way better than the bugs."

        You swallowed. Looked down at the piece of red-brown meat in your palms. A handful of ounces had never felt so heavy. Day sixteen in the new base, almost a week of no food. You'd boiled the shells of the bugs, tried to convince yourself it tasted like broth, but your powers had gone completely. You needed to eat. 

        Gray watched you, leaning forward on his knees, trying to catch your eyes, "If you want revenge-"

        He'd said this already.

        "I have to eat, I know." You finished for him. "I just-" You looked up, locking eyes with him. Swallowing, throat dry despite recently sipping boiled cave water. You'd been letting details of your time with Mark slip out of you in a slow drip. 

        Another drip escapes you now. Partly because of the crack that'd formed inside you as the hunger consumed you, partly because you hoped a sob story would make them give in to what you wanted. "He told me about his dad throwing him in prison." The words make Gray go stiff, the idea so out there for him he didn't know what to say. "It ruined him, he was so different from all of you because of that one thing his dad did. I keep thinking about what I'd do if I met his dad, but I literally have. I had dinner with Mister Grayson a few times before everything went to piss. He scared the shit out of me just as some suburban dad and I think- what could I do against that? Could I have even changed what happened to him?"

        "Nothing." Gray said. "Father is one of the most promising solders in the empire." 

        You frowned at the meat. Why were you frowning? Had he said the wrong thing? That's why you were starting the conversation, correct? That his father, that Viltrum was impossible to resist? God, he didn't understand humans at all.

        Mohawk cackled over the fire crackle. "Are you kidding? I murdered the fuck outta dad when I was like sixteen."

        Now that got your mind off of things, a possibility no Mark had ever told you about, "Seriously?"

        Mohawk's back straightened at your attention. In his world, he was showered with praise and attention at all times, but the only thing that mattered through all the politics and conquering was beginning and ending his day with you. Out here, you attention was always split between different versions of himself. He was subject to watch as you grew closer to shittier versions of himself. He could share, really, he wasn't as immature as he acted, but not in these wastes. Not when he was so starved of things to think about. He wanted you all the time, none of the other distractions. 

        Whatever. He could think about murder and double crossing later. Right now, he had your attention. "Yeah, it wasn't even that hard."

        ***

        Mohawk's head was partly split open. Oozing brains over his brow and hairline. Hurt like a motherfucker but that was fine. Everything was hunky-dorey-okey-dokey-artichoke-y because dad was finally dead. Beat brainless into the side of Mount Fuji. 

        "Should've," huff, "told," huff, "me," huff, "earlier," huff, "dipshit."

        Dad's broken jaw doesn't twitch. No more lectures. No more holier than thou bullshit.

        A fat shadow encompassed the mountain. Mohawk looked up and saw his ride. His future stretched ahead of him, deceptively straight forward.

        ***

        "So yeah, babe, with me around you ain't gotta worry about no dad." Mohawk said.

        "She was literally talking about the prisoner's Nolan." Maskless nibbled one of the dryer sticks of meat.

        You looked down at your own stick of meat. Wishing it was Mark's dad, it would've made things so much easier. You felt sick now. Knowing in another life Mark could've defended himself, killed Nolan. Your Mark lived, didn't go to prison but he threw you in it. This shit wasn't fair. 

          "Nolan was the most powerful man on Earth, he worked with powerful people. He had resources. How did he never look into me? I wasn't very good at hiding what I was doing when I first started working with Machine Head. We talked on unsecure lines. He didn't have anyone watching his son's girlfriend? Did he just not care? No cameras, no tails, no nothing?"

        Seb tapped at your side with his shoe. "Where are you going with this?" 

        "I never worried about him, but the more you guys talk about him the more I think I should have. I saw on the news after. He was there when I fought Mark." Machine Head's office was fucked, of course there were people recording the high rise. And who did they catch hovering hundreds of feet above the building? Omni Man. "I didn't know Invincible was Omni-Man's son, I didn't even know Mark was Invincible. He hid it from me. I wonder if Nolan was surprised to see me in there or just thought yeah, that makes sense."

       Seb poked you again. "You gonna eat that or just keep babbling?" 

        Markus gave him a look but spoke to you, "Knowing my father, he knew and he didn't care."

        Seb snorted, "Knowing mine, he didn't even know Mark had a girlfriend."

        "They were close in my world. I wonder what he said after Mark broke up with me." You wanted to slap a hand over your mouth soon as you said it. Cat's out the bag. Mohawk already hit the nail on the head but saying it outright was something else. Weight both off and on your shoulders. You test it, saying, "I tried to stop him. It didn't work."

        Blood shot out of your nose. Headache like a hammer to your temple. You on the ground. Machine Head's hired grunts unconscious around you. Mark's eyes were wild on you, "Did you- Did you just-!?"

        You had tried to make him forget while he ranted and raved about what you'd done. Instead you found the ceiling of your powers. The way he looked at you like shit on his shoe made your heart ache. You felt sick, you had no fight left.

        "Yeah." You breathed, "Yeah I did."

        "You can't just control me like that! Have you done that before?!"

        "No." You wiped the blood rolling from your nose. "I'd never do it unless I had to Mark- I love you. I don't want to lose you!"

        He laughed. Actually laughed. Mean and angry. You heard that sound every night in your dreams for the next few years as your life circled the drain. "You don't love me."

        Mohawk doesn't laugh this time. Today he's not bitter. Today is he soft and malleable and maybe if you gave enough of yourself away, he'd take you to Phantom and let you kill him.

        "Fuck him." Mohawk sounded genuinely angry. "Fuck him, like actually. That's the most romantic shit I've ever heard done by someone who isn't me."

        Seb rose a brow at him. "What'd you do Romeo?"

        "What didn't I do." Mohawk looked and sounded far away before his eyes re-focused on you. "He didn't deserve you, fucking asshole."

        "I know." You half smile before getting back to your train of thought, "I tried to stop Mark too." Because you don't think they get it, you add, "In the caves. He was freaking out and I tried to calm him down and he just-" Your hands burned. You realized you were gripping the meat hard, so hard your knuckles were pale. At least you weren't crying. 

        "He killed himself." Gray watched your hands but didn't move, willing them to open, willing the pain to leave your face.

        "I know." You grit out.

        "You misunderstand me. He did that to himself of his own volition."

        Your hands opened, you could see the outline of where the meat was pressing into your palm. "His own volition." You echoed, "My powers are based in interpretation. Whatever you think they mean, you do. He thought stop meant kill himself so he did it- because of me. He didn't want to do anything, he thought I wanted him dead." 

        "Oh, come the fuck on!" Mohawk threw his hands up, "So what? He was weak and stupid! You've said you want us all dead! Who cares! Do you know how many of us would've loved to be trapped in a cave alone with you? I wouldn't have gone apeshit, that's for sure. Apeshit on that-"

        "You're not helping." Markus said.

        "He knew what he was getting into." Gray said. For once, actually saying the right thing.

        He did know. He gave you a grand tour. Knew Phantom was in on it. Let it all happen knowing he wouldn't be able to handle it. For taking you down there to love you, to die, you start to hate him. 

        Still you hesitate to bring the meat to your lips. Mohawk said with too much confidence, "If he was as pussy-whipped as you make him out to be, he'd want you to eat him. I know I would."

        You bring the meat closer. Stomach churning. Lips opening. "I wouldn't want any of you to eat me."

        You're about to bite down when Mohawk nudges his head into your arm. Nuzzling. "I know babe, you want all of us dead. Which totally isn't happening but if I do die before you, take a cut out my shlong, yeah? That thing's gonna one juicy sausage. Mama mia."

        "That's not funny." You're laughing and cringing as you bite down.

        ***

        Scars dragged his head above the water that dripped near black grime off his face. It'd been a stroke of luck that him and Lensless had found this place. The both of them gone crazy from months without any water when they were so used to having it a short flight away. They'd tried to soothe their throats with blood, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd dranken Phantom's blood. He should've savored it- but that didn't matter now. He had water again.

        The cave hadn't been there before. They shoved dried bug carcasses into their mouths. Guzzling water from the queen's throne whenever they were slightly thirsty, which was all the time. They wandered the cave, finding cave ins that smelled of meat and smoke and most importantly- you. 

        For all they knew, this was the only water source left on the plant. For all they knew, someone would come for it and the abandoned shelter. For all they knew, there was no one left at all.

        Days pass.

        The smell dissipates. The remaining bugs, corpses and living, are eaten. Hunger they were unused to gnaws at their psyche. They drool over the queen's pool thinking of raw flesh. They watch the hole to the ceiling from dark corners, waiting to ambush. Day turns to night to day. Nobody comes. They search and find no caves or bodies or people wandering the waste. 

        They begin to wonder if any of it was real at all.

        ***

        Day seventeen in the new hideout.

        Laughter is more common. Jaws are looser. Friendship is an open current passing between you all. Even Maskless who swears up and down he hates you all, has waning venom in his tone. Despite the summer camp attitude, the threat looming in the wastes was still real. Last night Scars and Lensless roamed nearby dunes, screaming into the night. 

        "Is anybody there?"

        "Helllllooooooooo?"       

        You thought they were trying to lure you out. Trying to find a replacement for Phantom because he was near death or dead. You tried to convince any of them to let you outside. To make them and their fried brains to take you to Phantom. To kill the whole lot of them easy peasy. 

        You opened your mouth to command someone, anyone to remove Markus from blocking the fucking exit when he said it.

        "I'll take you soon." Gray is behind you. So close he nearly boxes you into Markus's waiting chest. "You have to be patient."        

        "When is soon?"

        "Soon." 

        That night Gray stayed the night in the tiny hovel. Monitoring Phantom's progress. Willing him to wake, to speak. Gray was a patient man but it was wearing thin. He needed your praise for a job well done. Desired it. Had wet dreams about it. 

        Again, Phantom didn't wake in the night.

        ***

        Another day of training. This time your mentee was Gray. Seb had excused himself not long after Gray returned. Said he was going to look for supplies. They'd been doing that an awful lot the past few days. Searching in shifts. You thought little of it. You assumed it was better if only one person left at a time to minimize risk of being spotted by the crazies.

        You sat on stools of cool rock facing each other. You hurled commands at Gray. Fed and watered, expecting easy compliance. You get a battle.

        "Stand up."

        He stayed seated.

        "Get up."

       He did not.

        "Move!"

        Nothing.

        "Tell me why you're so hard to control."

        "The Mark of your world never joined the Empire, correct?" His voice is like a godsend. Finally you got him to do something. Eagerly, you nod. "Was there anyone sent from the Empire to coerce him into doing so?" You wrack your brain but simply don't know. Mark faught so many aliens on the news all the time, you tried to avoid the stories entirely. Gray hums, "You wouldn't know him then- my mentor."

        You lean forward. High on control. "Who was that?"

        "Conquest." He said. 

        You blink. "Like the concept or?"

        "Be advised you are not controlling me and I'm giving up this information of my own volition." The words are like a slap to each each cheek. You never felt the connection, never felt his mind in your grasp, you'd just been too excited to notice. Motherfucker. "He's the best of us. My mother was worried he'd kill me in training but I survived."

        You dropped the training ball, curious now. "How's hitting shit make you resistant to me?" 

        His brows rose. "Mental fortitude is important in battle." 

        That... Made a lot of sense. Markus seemed plenty mentally steely and you couldn't get him to raise a finger.

        "Hm." Learn something new everyday but you didn't quite like the taste of defeat. You go for the jugular, which always seemed so exposed with these men when it came to you, "Kiss me."

        Heads turn right as Gray practically lunged out of his seat. Hands still tucked behind his back while his lips met yours. Kiss so hard, your lips were pressed to your teeth. As soon as it was happened, he was pulling himself away pink cheeked.

        "Hey!" Mohawk was across the cave at ready to punch his throat, "What the fuck!?"

        "Congratulations." Gray slid back into his chair. "You controlled me."

        Mohawk's fist paused. "Wait- hey- why'd you tell him to do that?"

        You shrug, "Thought it'd be worth a shot and it was. I win." Except you knew Gray was lying and had lying in wait hoping you'd pull a desperate move. Clever. 

        "Your control didn't last long." Gray said, eyes intense. He was practically begging you to ask him again. His slowly growing erection was also begging. He shifted, hiding it under the fabric. 

        You know what his shifting legs means, had seen it plenty since your encounter. You smirked, knowing a distracted target was an easy one. "Spin around."

        Gray hovered and did a stiff about face. Throwing off the control after a spin and a half but looking mildly perturbed. "You-" 

        "That's two for two." You remind him of the lie you were mutually spinning.

        He swallowed, wiping the surprise off his face quick as it appeared. "You're getting better but we must pursue training to ensure you can hold onto a target longer than a second." He sat again, crossing his legs. 

        "Me next." Mohawk insisted. "Me!"

        You give him a look that isn't withering, "You'd do that anyways." 

        He ignored Gray, ignored the lesson at hand to lean into your personal space. Smelling of sweat, breath spray, and cologne he hastily applied once he thought you were open to make out. Sure, he was jealous but Gray could be dealt with later. What mattered more now was you. "That such a bad thing?"        

        You hum pretending to consider. "What'll you give me in return?"

        "Best orgasm of your life." His voice was teasing but his face was serious. 

        Heat suddenly sparked in your core. You swallowed down the fluttering in your chest, "I can DIY that one, thanks." Though honestly? You were tempted. You hadn't been able to get your rocks off in weeks, not since Seb, who seemed content not pursuing things again if it meant no one was mad at him. You knew you'd have to find a replacement sooner or later. Like Mohawk who was offering, even if he was a dick. "What else you got?"

        Seb rushed into the room then, wide eyed, mouth open. Words die on his tongue when he sees you. "Uhm- uh- the thing is- yeah."

        They spoke cryptically for a few moments, as you watched. Gray said he had something to show you. Mohawk said not to freak out. They took you outside. Flew over the dunes a half second before taking you inside a boulder.

        Your mouth was agape, nose burning with the smell of days old blood. The heat prickled at your skin despite the shade.

        It was hard not to when the reason for Mark dying was right there. Leaning sweaty and pathetic against the wall. Hair shaven from his scalp. Five o'clock shadow gone into a full midnight, the stubbly beard longer than the hair on his head. His suit was torn and abused, exposing peeling skin. Most disconcerting was the glaringly obvious lack of limbs on one side of his body. Stumps pink with newly grown skin and blisters. 

        Despite the hell he'd been through, his glassy blue eyes were looking at you like you were an angel sent from above to bring him salvation. You were anything but.

        ***

        Across universes, across dimensions, Angstrom Levy was nearly finished paying off his debts to the Technitions. Daydreaming constantly about the revenge he'd enact on one Mark Grayson. 

[lieslab]

I've tried to describe just how carefully I would carry you

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Seungmin X gn reader

Summary: After your seasonal depression leads to self-harm, your boyfriend is right there to confront and comfort you.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.9K

Depression and self-harm resources

Trigger warning: Seasonal depression, self-harm, mentions of blood, and a razor blade.

A/N: If this looks like a repost, it is. I just noticed last night that this was missing from my page. I don't know if Tumblr deleted it or if I accidentally deleted it. Whatever the case, this was a request, so I wanted to put it back up as soon as I could.

_ _ _

Curled up in his usual chair, fire crackled and flames flickered in the reflection of Seungmin’s eyes. The fresh scent of burning cedar faded a while ago. In its place, he lit a cinnamon candle and let the sharp scent coat the living room. 

He sat tucked beneath the wool blanket that you gave him for Christmas. If there was one thing he constantly complained about, it was the outside temperature. Days turned into nights early and no matter what he did, that frosty feeling seemed etched into his bones. One draft would catch him and keep him cold for the rest of the night. 

It was different near the warmth of the fireplace. Flames cracked and grew. Outer bark hardened and charred black. The sun dipped beneath the horizon and the house grew dark, but it didn’t stay dark when the fire lit. Everything glowed a faint orange and across the way, the candle always flickered. 

It was the one thing he liked about winter. There was a cozy comfort in watching the fire. Something so beautiful lept and created so much warmth. He’d fallen asleep so content multiple times before. He’d wake up fully covered with the oversized blanket folded neatly in half and strung over his legs. 

Even if it was silent, you always contributed to his warmth. When you were around, his heart leapt and familiar butterflies brushed against the edge of his stomach. It didn’t matter how long he’d dated you for, it was always the same with you. You flickered the flames within him and you always would. 

This evening, a book sat on his thigh. He’d been captivated by the words on the page until he glanced up and realized he was alone. Across the way, you had been stretched out on the couch, but it sat abandoned now. Too engrossed in his book, he must have been too swept up to hear you leave. Despite that, loneliness spiked within him, as if he could feel the lack of your comforting presence; even if he wasn’t consciously aware of it. 

It wasn’t new for him. When you left the bed at night, he often woke up from a dead sleep. In the hazy darkness, he’d reach out for your body. He’d wait until you came back from using the bathroom or sneaking into the kitchen to get a drink. His eyes would stay shut, but he’d never fall back asleep until the bed dipped and your soft breathing reappeared. 

He’d roll over in your direction, never admitting that he was awake, but he’d nuzzle against your warmth. It was a silent and sweet gesture, you never realized that he was awake. You just thought that he missed you, even when you weren’t there. 

He shut his book and waited for you to reappear, but when the hand continued to tick around the clock for the fifth time, he pushed the book aside. Pulling the blanket off and throwing it over the arm of the chair, he began to head to the back of the house. 

The floor creaked beneath the weight of his socked feet. With the dip of his head, his black rounded reading glasses slid to the tip of his nose. He sighed, pushed them up, and began the search for you. 

Meanwhile, you were tucked in the four protective walls of the bathroom. Unlike Seungmin’s comfort by the fire, you never felt the same way. The warmth of the roaring fire didn’t replace the warmth of the sunlight. 

Lately, these dark evenings dragged on and on and on and on. You tried to busy yourself with TV shows and social media. Like Seungmin, you tried your hand at words in books, but that didn’t work. Even when you attempted to get back into hobbies that filled you with joy, you felt nothing. 

The gray skies sucked away your happiness and it had been like this for a while. Some people become giddy when summer shifts to fall. The scent of fresh leaves, the dingy browns and burnt oranges, long evenings, and cold nights; you hated everything about them. 

Even when you went outside, it didn’t make you feel better. A weight hung above your head and it lowered every day. Fall drifted into winter and the temperatures dipped even lower. Every time you ventured out to get the mail, you were reminded just how much you hated this time of year. 

Cold winter caressed your skin and dried out your nasal cavity. The moisture in the air disappeared and your lips cracked now. Even when you washed your hands, you felt the ache within them. Too many stripped oils and not enough moisture, your hands began to crack too. 

You were compressing internally and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the sadness. You tried to pretend, at least, for Seungmin’s sake that you were okay, but it never felt right. You were so aware that you were playing pretend and yet, you didn’t know how to bring it up to him. 

Every time he came home from work, he asked about your day. He asked for details and he listened to you while sipping a glass of green tea. His warm brown eyes peeked over the edge as he drank from a ceramic mug. You knew he wouldn’t judge you, but in a strange way, you felt like you’d disappoint him somehow. 

Your seasonal depression had the reigns of your brain. The more you kept it quiet, the more it destroyed you. You played the act of a doting significant other so well, he had no idea that you were seeping in sadness. Every time he looked into your eyes, he didn’t see the demons defeating you, he just saw you. 

You thought you were keeping him safe this way. At least, he didn’t have to worry about you. He’d spend his days focusing on himself and by keeping it hidden, you assumed you were doing him a favor. Sure, it may have been hard, but you believe in self-reliance and independence. Maybe when the nights turned into days and the grass grew greener, you could try again. 

When Seungmin knocked on the bathroom door, your eyes widened in the bathroom mirror. You were holding gauze to a fresh self-harm wound. You cursed beneath your breath and forced yourself to speak. “Yeah?” 

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been missing for a while. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t fall in.” His voice was light-hearted and playful. He had no idea of your broken reality behind the locked door. 

“I’ll be out in a moment. Remind me to never eat one of your burritos again. This is all your fault, you know.” You wrapped your arm with more gauze and continued to play along. 

If he thought you were having bowel issues, at least, it’d keep him from finding out the truth. You couldn’t bear to tell him what you were really doing behind the cedar wood. As funny as it sounded, this was the only thing that made you feel somewhat normal. 

Self-harm wasn’t normal, but it eased your internal torment. In a way, it brought a strange wave of relief. It was a self-punishment for being a failure and deep down, you knew it was wrong. You knew how disappointed he’d be if he found out, but you couldn’t stop it either. 

You didn’t know when the first time was. You kick-started the old habit and now you couldn’t stop. Caught in your own mouse trap, you couldn’t stop yourself from gnawing off your own leg. 

Outside the door, Seungmin sighed and gently pressed his forehead against the door. Even when you were away, he missed you. He’d never admit it out loud, but he pined over you every second of every day. 

His eyes shut and he was expecting the toilet to flush. He was expecting footsteps and the sink running, but he wasn’t expecting all the shuffling. The bathroom cabinet creaked open and then creaked shut. What sounded like cardboard shuffling peaked his hearing and then it shifted. 

His eyebrows furrowed and before he knew it, he leaned closer to the door. His ear pressed against the wood and the sounds grew louder. Faint cursing, more shuffling, the sound of the water turning on and off, but the toilet never flushed. He didn’t mean to intrude, but something about the situation just seemed off. 

You didn’t realize that he never walked away. You continued your routine like normal. Wrap the cuts in gauze, hide the blade, and wash your hands. Pull down your sleeves and pretend like you weren’t falling apart on the inside. You’d done this so many times, you were a natural at it. 

When he heard your footsteps, he backed away from the door and you swung it open. Your eyes met his and you forced a smile. “Did you need something?” 

“I-” He panicked, trying to think of something. “Um, I-” 

Your head tipped and his heart melted. You stared at him with soft eyes like a waiting puppy. If you were to have a tail, it would have been wiggling behind you as you waited for his command. 

When no words came out, he reached for your forearm and gently grabbed it. Your eyes widened and you hissed at the feeling of gauze rubbing against fresh wounds. His eyes widened again and he jerked his hands away. 

“What was that?” He asked as you pulled your forearm against your chest. “Are you injured? Did you hurt your arm?” Eager hands reached out, prepared to look you over, but you jerked away. 

“No! I’m fine. Totally and perfectly fine.” You stepped back and forced yourself to smile again, but he saw through it this time. You weren’t good at pretending anymore because you knew that he’d pry. 

“Just let me see your arm.”  You shook your head and took a step back. “That’s not necessary. It’s just a small sprain. I bumped it on the counter in the bathroom and I-” 

“Woah, you’re bleeding!” 

“Huh?” 

You didn’t have time to look down at your arm. In a panic, Seungmin grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You tried to push his other hand away, but there wasn’t enough time. You let out a yelp when he pushed up the fabric to reveal bloodied gauze. 

He stared at the bright red blood in terror. Nausea clutched his stomach and when he saw the gauze, he panicked even more. “What is this?” 

“Nothing, really, it’s nothing.” 

“You’re bleeding through gauze and your shirt!” 

You tried to tug away before he could unveil the truth, but he didn’t let go of your hand. You tried to plead with him not to continue, but he was worried. You’d always been stubborn and maybe a little too independent for your own good. 

Even when you were falling apart, you were insistent that you were okay. He thought you injured yourself and you didn’t want to go to the doctor. If the cut was deep enough, you’d need stitches. If you didn’t get the cut disinfected and stitched, it could lead to infection and in the worst case scenario, you’d die. 

He was expecting a gaping wound. He held his breath and unwrapped the gauze with his single hand. Bloodborne illnesses be damned. The love of his life was injured and maybe you were already starting to feel the effects of an infection and- 

There were no words to describe the stomach-churning and heart drop that he felt when he found multiple fresh self-harm cuts. He always prided himself in not crying. He kept his tears away from you and joked that he was strong, but every person met their match at some point. 

“What did you do?” He uttered as tears pricked in his eyes. “What is this? Why did you-” 

It washed over you all at once. The embarrassment and the humiliation. Guilt flooded you and it choked you. The lump forming in your throat prevented you from being able to speak. 

He gently shifted your wrist and your arm moved slightly. Yesterday’s cuts had already scabbed over. Dark blood coagulated and kept you from bleeding out. Your own tears spilled down the apples of your cheeks. No words could mend the heartbreak filling either of you. 

“Why?” He finally uttered after a few seconds of silence. 

You shrugged, but it wasn’t good enough for him. His eyes met yours, but you glanced down at the floor. Shame burned your cheeks and stomach acid threatened to slide up the back of your throat. 

“You’re struggling internally, aren’t you?” 

All you could do was nod. You couldn’t see him through your tears anymore. Your bottom lip quivered and you threatened to burst at the seams. 

“Just let me clean this up first. This gauze isn’t enough, but-” His fingers gently grabbed the middle of your forearm. He pushed his head closer to inspect the cuts. “I don’t think these are deep enough for stitches.” 

You sniffled and let him lead you into the bathroom. He sat you down on the edge of the tub and washed his hands. Despite the unrest squeezing his heart, he didn’t want to make you feel worse about it. To your utter surprise, he began to sing a soft ballad. 

You stared at him in awe. Maybe it was because deep down, you expected him to be angry and disappointed in you. You thought that his anger would come out verbally in yells, but it never did. 

Whether you knew it or not, you were precious to him. He’d choose to love you in every lifetime if he could and this one was no different. You let him dab at the sticky blood. He shuffled through the medicine cabinet and found a larger band-aid. It’d hurt to peel off later, but it was large enough that the built-in-gauze would gently cover your cuts. Peeling off the bandage wouldn’t break the forming scabs. 

Once he was finished, he washed his hands. You sniffled once more and reached for nearby toilet paper. Before you could, he pressed a tissue into your hand. Not once did he stop singing. 

He kept singing as he carefully pulled off your long sleeve shirt and tossed it in the laundry hamper. He shrugged off his own zip-up jacket and helped you put your arms in it. After zipping you up, he led you back out to the living room. 

Your heart pounded against your chest and you waited for the lecture, but it didn’t come. He climbed back into his chair and the fireplace continued to crackle. The candle flickered, he grabbed the blanket, and he used it to cover up both of you. 

His arms found a home around your torso and he tugged you back against his body. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” He finally asked. 

You blinked and didn’t speak. Unsure of what to say, you just remained silent. He brushed a piece of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I’d do anything for you, if you asked me to.” 

“So please,” he went on. “Just ask me to be there for you because I’ll show up. I’ll show up over and over and over again. I’ll hold you through the cold and it might not work, but I’ll try to kiss away the pain.” 

“I’m sorry,” you finally uttered. “I feel awful this time of year and I’ve tried to deal with it on my own.” Your eyes stayed glued to the floor. Hurt wrung your heavy heart. 

“Don’t be sorry, just find me. Please talk to me and when you feel lost, let me be your light. Let me in. I’m not as bright as the sun, but I like to think I’m somewhat charming. If I can’t be bright enough to chase your sadness away, maybe I can woo it with my wit.” 

You shook your head and snorted. “Seungmin, that’s not how it works.” 

“Oh, yeah? How do you know? Have you ever tried it before?” 

“No, but-” 

He reached up and pressed a finger to your lips. Your eyes finally met his and you stopped talking. He pulled his finger away and leaned back. “I took care of you, so now I think you should take care of me.” 

“Oh.” 

“I want a kiss and you’re staying here for the next twenty minutes. No complaints, no huffs, and no whines. You’re going to stay here and feel my evil wrath.” 

“What wrath?” 

“The scent of my hoodie and the warmth of my body. If I can’t cure your sadness, I’ll melt it away.” 

“Once again, that’s not how it works.” 

“I think that’s a complaint and maybe a whine. I’m restarting your time. Now you can sit here for an extra minute. You were already at nineteen, but I’ll restart since you’re a brat.” 

“Suck my-” 

His hand covered your mouth instantly. “Do you want to make it another five?” He threatened. 

Just because you could, you licked his hand. 

He gagged and jerked his hand away. He shrieked and screamed about germs and diseases. His hand went up and he wiped it along the jacket you were wearing. Yet, a few minutes ago, he didn’t utter a peep about cleaning up your blood. 

So much for curing your sadness with his unique charm and wit. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[jo-speaks]

SHARPEST TOOL ft. JACK HUGHES

in which...

Jack Hughes never saw your relationship as anything serious.

WARNINGS: 18+ content below the cut. MDNI. brief smut, yet again, it's like a paragraph or two, angst w/ no happy ending, jack's an asshole, cheating (technically), etc.

track four in the short & sweet series!

note: dedicated to finishing this series over the weekend since i have a few days off work and school! so sorry it's taken so long!

I know you're not

The sharpest tool in the shed

“Jack?” You called out, voice laced with sleep as you heard clattering coming from the right side of the bed. 

Opening your eyes slightly, you could see everything from his hips down, the upper half of his body contorted in an interesting manner.

He grimaced, turning slowly to look at you, “Sorry.”

You sat up, leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. Catching a glance at the alarm clock, it read 3:29, clearly way too early for either one of you to be awake. 

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“My phone fell under the bed and I thought I could reach it without waking you.” He admitted, his face being noticeably red in the warm light emanating from the lamp. 

You weren’t sure if it was exhaustion or if he genuinely thought he could reach his phone from where he had been laying. Rubbing your eyes, you stood up and got on the ground. Jack looked at you with a quirked eyebrow, as he crawled across the bed to get a good look at you.

Before he got the chance to admire how hot you looked wearing nothing but his hoodie, you perked up, placing the phone on the bed before hopping back up onto it yourself. 

“Thanks, baby.” He said, the name catching both of you off guard.

Jack had been the one to propose the idea of being friends with benefits, not wanting to jump into anything serious at the start of the season. You had agreed reluctantly, deciding that being something with him was better than nothing. 

The relationship had been anything but casual, yet the title stayed the same.

We had sex, I met your best friends

“Jack!” You wailed, digging your nails into his broad shoulders, earring a deep groan from his chest.

He dug his face into the crook of your neck, sucking and kissing on the one spot he knew drove you crazy. “So close, sweet girl. Just one more for me, yeah?” You nodded, words seeming nonexistent in your head. Jack had already dragged an orgasm out of both you and himself, but for some reason, he just couldn’t stop. 

One more deep thrust from him and you were done. You came around his cock, trying to keep your moans muffled by bringing a hand down to your mouth. However, Jack quickly put a stop to this, replacing your hand with a sloppy kiss as you moaned into each other’s mouths as he spilled inside of you.

It took a few minutes of laboured breathing for the two of you to regain any ability to move. But once he gathered enough strength, Jack pulled out of you slowly, a whimper escaping your lips due to the empty feeling. 

Jack glanced over at the clock, eyes widening, “Shit. I have practice.”

You rolled your eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh at his untimeliness. He smirked, placing a quick kiss on your lips, a silent apology for his inability to schedule anything on time. Even a booty call. 

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” He said, pulling up his boxers and basketball shorts. “See yourself out?”

You nodded, sitting up and grabbing the shirt he had so conveniently placed at the foot of the bed. He called out a quick goodbye before shutting the door and leaving you alone in his room.

After a few seconds of self-reflection, you slipped the shirt on and stepped into your slippers that you had left in his house a few nights ago. You were feeling thirsty, so you decided to grab your phone and keys and make your way to the kitchen. 

Not expecting anyone to be home, the look on your face when you saw Jack, Luke, and three other people standing in the kitchen. You stood there like a deer in headlights, your face turning warm as they looked you up and down. 

Jack got out of shock first, clearing his throat. “Um. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Nico, Jesper, and Seamus.”

“Hi.” You greeted, earning one back from each of the men standing in Jack’s kitchen.

“So you’re the famous Y/N,” Nico spoke up, nodding his head towards Jack, “This one doesn’t shut up about you. Surprised it took us so long to meet you.” 

His words made you smile, the idea of Jack talking about you making your heart feel fuzzy and warm. “You should hear the things he says about you.”

Jack flushed, “Okay! We met Y/N, she met you guys, I think it’s time for practice.”

Then a bird flies by and you forget

Jack had taken you out for dinner, a rare occasion as he didn’t want people to mingle in his personal life. The night had been amazing, laughs and giggles coming from the two of you all night.

The night was still young, but the two of you wanted to get home early. Jack would be a fool not to, judging by how good you looked tonight.

“I love that dress on you by the way,” Juck admitted, causing warmth to rise to your cheeks. “You should wear it out more often.”

You laughed, “I think that means you have to take me out more often, no?”

Jack thought for a second, “Oh yeah.”

The waitress had come over, interrupting Jack’s ah-ha moment. You wish you could’ve ignored the way Jack’s eyes instantly became plastered with hers, the two of them maintained eye contact until you thanked her for the check, causing them to snap out of their trance and for her to walk away.

“What was that about?” You asked, handing Jack the bill.

He cleared his throat, pulling out his wallet and setting his card down on the table. “Nothing.”

You weren’t convinced by his shitty excuse, but the night out had been so nice you didn’t want to ruin it over some stupidly prolonged eye contact. But you couldn’t get the scene out of your head. He looked at her like he looked at you, just a little too long. 

“Are you sure? It didn’t look like nothing.” You pressed.

Jack shook his head, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing. She just looked like someone I knew. And if anything, she was looking at me.” You knew he was just spewing lies to get out of a situation he had been caught in. But again, you didn’t want to ruin the night. 

Moments passed without a word being exchanged from either of you, the awkward silence being interrupted by Jack suddenly standing. 

“I'll be right back.” He mumbled, not giving you a chance to respond before leaving you alone at the table.

You sighed, leaning back into the leather booth. And that’s where you stayed, looking like an idiot waiting for a man that didn’t come back.

I don't hear a word

'Til your guilt creeps in

On a Tuesday, send a soft "hey"

As if you really don't recall the time

After Jack’s successful escapade, you decided it was best to live in the present than dwell in the future.

At least that’s what you tried to do. 

In reality, you were lying on your couch, dried-up tears staining your cheeks as you clutched the collar of Jack’s hoodie. He had yet to ask for them back, let alone send you a text since the whole situation, so it was fair play. 

Sitting in your sorrow, you lazily reached your arm out to grab the TV control to throw on something to try and get your mind off the boy. Unfortunately for you, the Devils were playing tonight and the last thing you just so happened to have open on your TV was ESPN, which was playing a preview of the game. 

You groaned, throwing the control before beginning to cry slowly. You could feel the fresh tears fall from your eyes, trying your best to stop them by pinching the bridge of your nose, but nothing halted them. Wet gasps escaped your mouth, your cries turning into gut-wrenching sobs as you sat up, unable to lie down without choking on your spit. 

Your phone buzzed from beside you, the ringtone causing your eyes to widen. Pathetically, you scrambled for your phone, seeing the one name shown on your lock screen that you had been waiting to see for a week.

jack: hey

Seriously? One week of leaving you alone at a restaurant and all he could say was “Hey”? Not that you minded, honestly. You just wanted a text. 

y/n: hi

jack: come over? thought u could help me out before the game tn.

We were goin' right, then you took a left

Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess

Guess I'll waste another year on wonderin' if

If that was casual, then I'm an idiot

I'm lookin' for an answer in-between the lines

Lyin' to yourself if you think we're fine

You're confused and I'm upset, but

We never talk about it x3

All the silence just makes it worse, really

'Cause it leaves you so top-of-mind for me

You did end up going to Jack’s after that text, but not to do what he suggested. 

When he looked through the peephole to see you, he instantly tugged the door open. “Hey! I didn’t think you were actually gonna come.”

“That makes two of us.” You mumbled. “Can I come in?”

He nodded, opening the door and stepping aside so you could cross the threshold. The second you stepped in, he shut the door and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing your back against his chest. “Luke just left so we can be as loud as we want.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses to your neck. 

As tempting as he was, you pushed yourself off of him. The shocked and confused look on his face was almost comical like he actually believed you came here to get him off.

“I’m not here for that, Jack.” You said.

Jack scoffed, “Okay? So why are you here?”

You knitted your eyebrows together at his words, “To talk about what happened? You left me at the stupid restaurant for some fucking girl!”

“You’re still stuck on that? Y/N, that was forever ago. Grow up.”

His face looked extremely punchable as the words “grow up” came out of his mouth, but thankfully for the both of you, you were better than that. You let out a frustrated breath before continuing. “It was a week ago. And honestly, Jack, how do you expect me to not be hung up on it? It was going so well and you threw it all away on a random Friday night!”

Jack looked irritated, yet there was a glint of guilt in his eyes. “There was nothing going on between us. We both agreed that it was strictly casual, so I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about.”

“Please. You know damn well there was nothing casual about anything we did.”

He let out a sigh, taking a glance at his phone. “Yeah, whatever. I gotta go. See yourself out, will you?”

You couldn’t even respond to his words, watching with your mouth agape as he walked around you, grabbed his hockey bag, and walked out of his apartment.

You snapped out of your astonishment, glancing around the room before leaving. However, something on his living room shelf caught your eye. Walking over, you realize how many pictures of the two of you were up and framed. Your date to New York, your many dates to your favourite ice cream spot in Hoboken, and countless pictures of you wearing Jack’s jersey. 

It wasn’t some casual fling to him either, but that didn’t stop him from throwing it away like it was nothing.

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 4

Masterlist taglist

Things get cleared up.

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl

While we worked, he asked me about myself and told me funny stories about his career.  Including several iconic moments.  I was laughing so hard I had to cross my legs so I wouldn’t wet myself.

The noise attracted Chan.  “JYP.  I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I was helping y/n clean up from dinner.”  JYP responded.  Was it my imagination or did he sound mad?

Chan blinked over at me like he just realized I was in the room.  “Oh.  I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine.  It’s my duty.  Go do business.  I’m almost done here.”  I shood both males.  Neither moved.

Chan looked shocked and confused.  Like he had no idea what was going on.  “No, it’s-it’s Bins day for dishes.”  He shoved a thumb in the direction of the living room where I presumed Changbin was.

“Should I have left everything on the table?”

“She isn’t your maid or slave.  Using her to clean and care for you without anything in return makes you-us-no better than the Alpha slave traders!  We even have her locked up in here!”  JYP snapped throwing the sponge into the sink.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t even realize.”  Chan started, running a hand through his hair.  “I was working on lyrics all day and just assumed-let Changbin finish.”  He gently ushered me to the living room with JYP following.

As soon as I entered the room all the chatting and laughing stopped.  Han, Lee Know, Changbin, And Felix looked up at us.

“Jeongin, Seungmin, Hyunjin, come to the living room.”  JYP called out.

Oh great.  “It’s really fine.  Theres no need to make this a thing.  I’ll leave the rest to Changbin.”  The last thing I needed was to have them all more upset with me.

I was ignored.  The others joined us in the living room, all looking expectantly at JYP.

“Last I heard, you were all sure y/n was the Alpha for you.”  JYP began.  I shifted, uncomfortable.  “Now I come today to her thinking she is only here to be your Alpha slave and smelling of nothing but despair.  What is going on?”

Seungmin spoke up first.  “She doesn’t want to be here.  She doesn’t want to be our Alpha.  Of course she’s sad.  She can’t wait to leave us.”

“Well, if she didn’t then, she certainly does now!  You were supposed to be using this week to convince her to stay!”

“Hyung told us leave her alone.”  I.N pointed out.

Hurt, I looked over at Chan.  He told them to treat me like this?  He went through all the trouble of getting me here just to hurt me!

The tears dropped before I even registered them.  Before I could stop them.

“No!”  Chan, wide eyes at seeing my tears, quickly used his sleeve to wipe them away.  More just replaced them.  The dam was broken, there was no stopping the flood now.

“No, I didn’t say that!  I promise!”  he insisted.  I stepped out of his reach.

“You told us not to bug her.  So, we left her alone.”  I.N explained.  He kept glancing at me, wringing his hands.  In fact, everyone was fidgeting.

“I said not to bug her about staying!  I wanted us to get to know her!  Bring her into our circle with no expectations!”

“So…we don’t have to leave her alone?”

“Not completely-no!”

I.Ns steps landed heavily as he ran over and nearly body slammed me as he wrapped me in a right hug.  “I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to make you cry!”  He anxiously wiped at my tear-stained cheeks.

“So, all of you just ignored her all day and made her clean up after you?”  JYP asked.

“The second one was an accident, but still my fault.  I forgot it was my day to clean up.  I didn’t realize she was doing it.”  Changbin spoke up looking contrite.

“I’m so disappointed in all of you.  I entrusted her to you because I thought you would treat her kindly whether she was your Alpha or not!  I have half a mind to send her home right now!”

“It was a misunderstanding.”  Hyunjin pointed out.

“We will treat her better.”  Felix promised.

“I’ll keep a closer eye on everything.”  Chan put in.

I.N rested his forehead against mine.  “I’m so sorry, y/n.”  He whispered to me.

I was hiccupping from crying so much, but I nodded against him, accepting his apology.  I was finally starting to calm down.

“You all take better care of her.  Y/n, unblock me and tell me if anything else happens.  Or doesn’t happen.”  JYP ordered.  He patted my hair soothingly in a very fatherly fashion, then stormed out with one last glare at the Omegas.

For a man I only met a couple days ago he sure was protective of me.  But then again if he had been keeping tabs on me all my life, I guess he would have developed protective feelings.  Or resentment.  I’m glad it isn’t resentment.  Even if protective feels a bit weird.

I.N moved back, away from me as Han came up with a box of tissues.  He offered me the box with a small attempt at a smile.

“I’m sorry.  I’m overreacting.”  I sniffed as I grabbed a couple tissues and blew my nose.

“No, it’s us who are sorry.  We made you feel like this.”  Hyunjin disagreed.

Han stepped a bit closer.  “Can I hug you?”  He asked quietly.

Nodding I opened my arms in invitation.  He immediately stepped into them with a deep breath of my undiluted scent.  He snuggled under my chin and started twisting us both from left to right.

Chan stepped into my field of vision.  “Y/n.  This all got way out of hand.  You aren’t our slave, we aren’t trying to hold you captive.  We never meant to make you feel that way.”

Still holding Han with one arm, I reached the other out to Chan.  He gripped my hand.  “I believe you.  I think most of what I was feeling was my own fear.  I grew up on horror stories about how Alphas are treated.”  I explained.

Chan squeezed my hand.  “I would understand if you want to leave early.  I can take you to the airport if you want.”  Though he looked like even saying it pained him.

I grunted as a body collided with me from behind.  Felixs scent rushed over me, mingling with Han’s sunshine warm scent.  Both reminded me of a soft summer storm.

Chan was offering me a guilt free out.  I could take my suppressant, wait for it to kick in, then go home.  Put all this behind me and hope no one finds out my subgender.

It was honestly so tempting.  It sounded so good.  I should take the out.  Get back to normalcy and safety.

I couldn’t bring myself to.  “Thank you, but I’ll stick this out.”

“Then let’s start over.  Let’s do this right.”  Lee Know suggested.  I nodded.

“In that case.”  Hyunjin started looking shy but determined.  “I pained something for you today.”

He left the room briefly and came back with a mounted canvas about 8X10 if I were to guess.  The actual painting was turned away from my view as Hyunjin fidgeted a bit, face getting progressively redder.

I tapped gently at Felix and Han and they both reluctantly let me go.  I smiled gently at Hyunjin, letting him take his time-even if my anxiety surged at the thought of receiving a gift.

Not just any gift.  A gift from one of my Omegas.  And he was acting so cute and shy about giving it to me.  I really wanted to coo and pinch his cheeks while baby talking at him.

And I haven’t even mentioned how it was a painting done by Hyunjin of Stray Kids.  How freaking full is my fangirl heart right now!

“It’s-um…it’s not very good.  But I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and your scent is calming.  Like lavender.  So, I wanted to paint you some lavender.”  He rambled before finally thrusting the canvas at me.  I flipped it over to reveal a breathtaking depiction of a bushel of dried lavender.  Flowers are the perfect shade of purple and the details on the petals and stems awe inspiring.

“You did this in a day?!”  I asked.  Hyunjin shrugged.  “This is amazing, holy fuck!  You are amazing!  Thank you, Hyunjin!”

I couldn’t wait to put it up in the guest room for my stay here.  It would bring a wonderful and beautiful pop of color to the plain room.

Reaching out, I pulled Hyunjin in for a hug, standing on my toes to wrap my arms around his neck.  He only hesitated a moment before wrapping around my ribs.

He still smelled of paint.  His scent was something I could only describe as dark, steady, strong colors.  He himself was a painting.  A piece of art from his scent and beyond.  And he was warm.  A pleasant crackling campfire on a cool fall night.

“After practicing on so many Alphas, you think we’d be better at this.”  Changbin noted.

“Theres no other Alphas like Y/n.”  Lee Know stated plainly.

I swatted at Lee Know Playfully, face turning red.  “Stop that!  My god!”  Lee Know saying shit like that will kill me.

“Not good at taking compliments.  Noted.  Challenge accepted.”

“No.  There is no challenge!  Lee Know, I swear to god!”

But he was already smiling maniacally.  I am never going to survive this.  I will die of embarrassment before the week was up, I just know it.

“Bin, go finish cleaning up dinner.”  Chan ordered.

Changbin nodded and immediately left the room.

“I’ll go help him.”  I stated.  After all, I already started it, and it was unfair for him to take the blame for me doing it.  I assumed it was expected of me instead of asking about it.

“Nope, you’ve done enough work today.”  Chan said catching me as I walked by.

He easily picked me up with one arm and deposited me onto the couch.  Once there I was immediately pinned by 2 bodies cuddling up to me, effectively keeping me from moving.

“No fair!”

Felix and Han didn’t seem the least bit repentant.

“I’ve been dying to cuddle you all day long.  No one is going to stop me now.”  Felix sighed, getting more comfortable.

Chan was smiling, dimples on full display.  “I told you they were clingy.”  He shrugged, finding a seat of his own.

“I wasn’t complaining that they are clingy!  I was complaining that they weaponized it!”

This made everyone in the room laugh, lightening the tense atmosphere a little bit.

But Chan grew serious again, leaning forward in his seat and facing me.

“What would you like to watch?”  He spoke gravely.

It made the last of the tension break.  I smiled and shook my head at him.  He failed to hold back a smile of his own, breaking character.

“Just do whatever you were doing before.  Honestly, I’m just going to fall asleep.”  It was true.  Between my sleep schedule being on a different continent and exhausting myself by crying, I was feeling very sleepy.  The pleasant scents and weights of Han and Felix only made me sleepier.

Chan nodded and flipped the game console back on.  They all settled in to play some more while I distracted myself by playing with Han’s hair and gently rubbing my fingers up and down Felixs arm.  The entire time I felt my eyelids getting heavy.

“What did you do today.”  Han asked suddenly, bringing me back to alertness.

I half shrugged.  “Cleaned.  Worked.”  It had not been a good or exciting day.

“What’s your job?”

“Photography.  Videography.  Editing them both.  Today I edited a maternity shoot.”  Currently only 2 of us edit, me and the owner, so there was a lot to edit for the popular little photography business.

“Can I see some?”

“I have some on my phone I can show you later.  Its currently inaccessible.”  The phone in question was in my back pocket.  I was unwilling to move the 3 of us to get it.

Changbin joined us again, sitting by my feet, head resting on my knee.  I reached over to playfully muss his hair.  He looked over and smiled before looking back to the game on the screen.

“Maybe you can do a photoshoot here.  I’m itching to work.  We’ve been on hiatus forever!”  Hyunjin suggested.

I could.  I was going to Korea and meeting Stray Kids so of course I brought my basic equipment.  I hadn’t planned on a big shoot though.  And nothing like Stray Kids caliber photos.

“We could.”  Chan popped in.  “We are allowed to post on our socials.”

It’s true.  It was the one thing about this hiatus that was slightly different.  They didn’t just disappear.  They were on insta, on bubble, and doing lives interacting with fans.

Of course they didn’t elaborate on their search for an Alpha.  Just stated that the search was ongoing.  No matter how pushy some fans got about getting more information.  And some did get way out of line.

Seungmin scoffed.  “Yeah.  Great.  One last photo shoot before Stray Kids die.”

“Seungmin.”  Chan warned.

“What?  Am I wrong?”  Seungmin snapped.  “She’s going to leave at the end of the week, and we will never find another Alpha.  You’re all getting all cozy with her, and she is just going to break your hearts!”

“Enough, Seungmin!”  Chan ordered firmly looking up from the fame to glare at him.  “You are not helping the situation by being a brat about it.”

Seungmin glared right back at Chan, jaw flexing in anger.

I sighed softly.  “Its fine, Chris.  He is entitled to his opinions.  If he wants me to leave him alone, I can do that.”

Seungmin turned to me.  “What I want you to do is stay!  Give us an actual chance!  Instead of just stringing us along!”

“It’s not just as simple as that, Seungmin.  My reasons for not being able to be your Alpha are valid.”

“And what are these valid reasons?”

“Besides the danger that comes with the entire world knowing I’m Alpha?  Theres the fact that I am not meant to be in your world.”  I explained.  “I am a camera person.  Im meant to be behind the camera-not in front of it.”

“Then stay behind your camera!  No one said you had to become an idol!”

“You really think they will be okay with me just being me?  They will force me to change.  It will be slow.  A mandatory haircut here, a selected wardrobe, then a small photoshoot.  I would slowly lose everything I am now.  Everything I worked for – what I made of myself – would be gone.”

This seemed to bring Seungmin up short.  Like this never occurred to him before I pointed it out.

“I never thought of it like that.”  He admitted.

“Of course you didn’t.  Because to you this is the best thing all around.  You like being an idol.  Everyone around you likes being an idol or dreams of being one.  And to you having an Alpha solves a lot of your current and most pressing problems.  So naturally you wouldn’t even consider there being a downside.”

The room was silent for a full minute while they let everything really sink in.  Let all our new realities permeate.  And attempt to find a solution to the issues to make everyone happy.

I let them work through it.  Maybe one of them would find a solution.  A loophole to the law.  But I wasn’t holding my breath.  Instead, I braided small sections of Changbins hair.  Small short braids, just to keep my hands busy and mind occupied.  Felix nuzzled his face into my upper arm and stayed there.

“Us and our security team can keep you safe, but…”  Chan began

“But you can’t stop them from changing me.  Not forever.”  I finished for him.  It was just the facts.  Sad facts, but true.

“What if what you become with us is better?  What you were truly meant to be?”  I.N asked quietly.

And wasn’t that the question of the week?  “That’s a risk I must decide whether to take.  If it’s worth losing who I am to potentially become someone better.”

“In the meantime, we will all continue as planned.  No guilting or pressuring y/n to stay.”  Chan concluded with a pointed look at Seungmin.

With a growl Seungmin stood and stormed from the room.  A door slammed a couple seconds later making me jump slightly.

Sighing heavily, I let my head fall back and hit the couch.  I didn’t blame Seungmin for acting the way he was.  I understand where he is coming from both personally and professionally.

“We are still searching for other Alphas, but our efforts are coming up short.  We have exhausted every avenue we know.  However, we are not in any way giving up.”  Chan told the others before he stood and followed after Seungmin.

A few seconds passed before Felix spoke up.  “So, do you game?”

I chuckled and shook my head.  “Not the kind you play.  I’m terrible at them.  I’m good just watching, promise.”

“So, you play like Felix then.”  Lee Know teased.  Felix chucked a throw pillow at him that Lee Know promptly caught with his lightning-fast reflexes.

I was right about falling asleep.  I don’t even remember closing my eyes.  I was watching the boys play some shooter game, and then suddenly Changbin was cradling me in his arms and carrying me to my bed. I woke myself up enough to wiggle out of my jeans – ignoring Changbins protest about waiting until he was gone – and cocoon myself in the blanket.  I was asleep again in seconds.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr

[shortcakesturns]

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - 𝐌. 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝟎𝟐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧: 𝐘/𝐧, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡, 𝐲/𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲/𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐢𝐧?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓, 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍, 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆 𝐔𝐒𝐄, 𝐀𝐋𝐂 𝐔𝐒𝐄, 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐕, 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓, 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐗, 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄

part 1

The moonlight gleams through my window reflecting into my floor. The silence is overbearing, my eyes focus on random things in the dark trying to make out what it could be.

My thoughts race and my mind can’t grasp what had just happened tonight, Brad got in a fight with my enemy Matt leaving me with a date to homecoming.

I wasn’t excited for homecoming anymore, I didn’t want to see brad and I most certainly did not want to go with matt. However, the thought that lingers in my head is seeing Brads stupid face when he sees me and Matt together. Twisted and confused his mouth agape, whispering to his friends while Matt keeps a smug smirk on his face.

A loud ding comes from my phone and with that I’m snapped out of my thoughts and my eyes are glued to my screen, an Instagram notification from Matt.

“What’s your number?” the chat reads.

I roll my eyes and type out my number, as soon as I hit send I see his icon typing.

“thanks.”

Another notification pops up but this time from messages.

“y/n.”

“matt.”

“what color is your dress?”

“it’s red.”

“Lucky for you I have a red tie, i’ll pick you up tomorrow an hour before the dance so we can get pictures and I can take you out to dinner.”

“okay matt, but don’t expect anything to happen. THIS IS JUST, keyword JUST to make brad jealous, okay?”

“don’t want anything to happen so chill.”

before I can respond another text is sent, “Go to sleep, it’s 1am.”

“your not my mother matt, i’m going to sleep now anyways.”

He sends a thumbs up emoji and I exit out of messages, looking at my wallpaper of me and brad. I decided to change it to a picture of me and my dog oatie. I open my alarm app and set alarms at 7:00 and every five minutes until 8. I shut my phone off and the familiar darkness is back again but this time i’ve been able to ease up and focus on going to sleep.

The sunlight shines through my window replacing the moonlight from the night before and my alarm blares me awake. I look around for a second before getting up and putting on a button-up pj shirt and silk bottoms, and head downstairs.

“You ready for your appointments?” my mom asked.

“Yeah, yeah i’m ready let me just go put some shoes on and eat some food.” I smile excitedly.

“No,no y/n you don’t need to be eating food before the dance you’ll bloat.” my mom looks disappointed and I nod.

“right,right…” I turn around to get shoes and brush through my fair toned hair and grab my phone.

I rush down the stairs and shut the front door and head to my mom’s car so I can go to my hair and makeup appointment. I sit in the front seat and as we make our way to the places, I look out at the views and try to comprehend that this is real.

*lil time skip*

I stand in my room looking at my makeup and hair, my hair curled beautifully in a half up half down with flowers intertwined with the strands of braids for my half up half down. My makeup perfectly fitting my face.

I look at the time and it’s 30 minutes before Matt is supposed to be here, I slip my red silky tight fitting dress on and fix the thin straps. The dress is long enough to cover what it needs to but short enough to show off my body perfectly.

I feel my phone buzz and look down.

“What’s your address?”

I send him my address and the nervous pacing begins to start, my mom always liked Matt. She knows his mom and his brothers, did she like Brad? i’m not sure, but I know she’ll be ecstatic to see Matt. That makes one of us.

My pacing continues, and the nerves grow and grow by the minute, the doorbell rings and i’m knocked out of my thoughts knowing that just below Matt sturniolo is dressed in a suit in tie ready to take me to a dance.

I hear the door open, “MATT!!!” my mom screams, “MARYLOU!!!!” she screams again, her screams pierce the air. “Y/NNNN!!!” at this point I was sure my ear drums bursted.

I walk down the stairs and as soon as my eyes meet Matt he checks me out and smiles. “wow, you look beautiful.” Oh my ear drums definitely bursted cause what is this?

“thank you matt.” I smile back hiding my confusion.

I walk up to him, he holds my arm out and puts on the corsage. Surprisingly I didn’t even ask for one. I put on his flower and we take pictures for our families.

After 15 minutes or so of awkward posing Matt and me leave together in his car to go out to dinner.

He opens the door for me and I sit down and buckle my seatbelt, matt gets in and slams his door.

“that was absolutely fucking terrible.” he hits his head on the steering wheel.

“beautiful? that was crazy.” I glare at matt and he lifts his head.

“Don’t let it go to your head, i said it for show.” he spits out harshly, I turn my head towards the window and he begins driving.

No I wasn’t bothered by what he said, I was used to it from him. I was bothered that he called me beautiful.

We arrive at a super fancy steakhouse, matt gets out of the car and opens the door for me.

“After you I guess.” he says blankly. I step out of the car and matt follows closely behind me.

We walk in and get seated, We sit across from each other matt letting me take the booth seat.

“So what are you gonna get?” Matt asks.

“Prob just a salad.” I look up at him.

“Shut up.” he squints his eyes. “Get a steak, it’s a steakhouse dumbass.” He points at a steak.

“I can’t my mom said i’ll bloat.” he smacks his head.

“Do you think I give a fuck? no. nobody does but her. so you’ll get a steak and that’s that.” he pulls back and the waiter comes over.

“can I just have a sprite?” matt laughs at my question.

“i’ll take a water with lemon please.” matt asks the waiter.

“and for food we’ll both take a original well done steak, thank you.” he smiles and turns to me as the waiter walks back.

“Did you really just order a sprite, are you a child.” he laughs.

“what sprite is so good.” I smile.

We engage in conversation and eat or food once it came out. I check the time once we finish and Matt pays.

“Matt..we have 10 minutes to get there.” Matt shoots up.

“shit, come on.” we get up from the seats and rush to the car and matt starts his way to the venue.

after some time we make it to the venue and Matt gets out of the car, opening the door for me and I step out. “Y/n, this is what we’re gonna do. Act all cute together and happy and make brad jealous then i’m gonna take you home and we will never speak of this again. Got it?”

I nod and matt takes my hand and we enter the venue, turning heads as we walk past. Eventually we walk past Brad and his mouth drops, his face is twisted and Matt has a smug smirk just as I imagined . Matt’s hand snakes around my waist and turns to look at me.

“it’s working.”He grips me tighter.

“I know.” I whisper.

“Let’s go dance.” he says loud enough for brad to hear.

The music plays and we begin to feel the music flow through our veins, I get carried away and grind up against matt, his head is thrown back and jaw is clenched his grip on my waist is deadly.

he leans down, “Quit it..” he groans out.

“Why matt, can’t handle it?” I smirk

“No, you won’t be able to handle the aftermath of this.” He mutters.

I continue to grind up against him, before im being dragged out of the venue glancing at everyone and then i’m met with the darkness of the sky. Matt continues to grip on my wrists and pulls me to the car. Throwing me down in the backseat with the door still open he stands there. “you want this?” he asks.

“Yes, yes please matt.” Matt lifts my dress up to reveal a thong. Nothing else.

“damn, so your a whore?” he inquires.

He flips me on my stomach and pulls my thing to the side and fumbled with the belt before his pants hit the concrete. The thrill of being caught making my wet spot grow. A harsh slap collides with my ass leaving a bright red mark as Matt spreads my cheeks.

“So wet I can just slide right in there.” he breathed out.

He slides his dick in with no help from his hands and bottoms out at my cervix. The stretch and unfamiliar feeling making me slightly uncomfortable. “Don’t worry baby, I know you’ve never had this big i’ll let you adjust.”

He does just that and waits. “Matt..” I moan out.

“hm, what baby?” the dirty familiar smirk is heard in his voice.

“move, pl- please.” I stumble over my words.

“not being able to talk right, damn princess it really that good?” he begins to move harshly against my hips.

His dick hitting it deeper by the thrust. Within no time a white ring forms around the base of his dick. “Fuck it’s so good matt, I can’t believe this.” He pounds into me relentlessly.

“I know baby, I can tell. F-Fuck best pussy ever.”

My mind is hazy as Matt continues to fuck me, I feel a tug on my hair and I moan out, “oh fuck.”

“oh you like that pretty girl, oh your such a slut.” He pounds me harder as I begin to feel myself shake and clench around his dick.

“I’m gonna cum matt, i’m gonna-.”

“Let it out sweet girl, let it out.” He cried

With a couple more thrusts we release at the same time.

“Pull that dress down.” he lifts up my chin and I quickly pull my dress down and get in the passenger seat.

Matt sits in the drivers seat and standing before us is brad, fuming with a red face.

Matt rolls down the window, “can you move buddy?”

Brad scoffs, “What’s are you doing with him?”

“I took your bitch.” he speaks.

“is that true?” brad looks at me.

“sounds about right.” I nod

“Yeah, so move.” matt agrees

Matt starts up the car and drives me home and in my driveway the silence is broken.

“This won’t happen again.” I look out the window.

Matt moves my face to see his, “Yes it will and you know it, text me if you need me.” He smirks.

—-

TAGLIST (send in a request to be added!)

@wurlibydominicfike @downbadsturns @christophersgf @whore4mattsstubble @strqnsm @blahbel668 @slut4chriss

[choikanghuening]

Hidden Doors (or simply “Hotel/Mil Veces”)

now playing: Hotel - Montell Fish/Mil Veces - Anitta

synopsis: Beomgyu is an extremely popular k-pop idol, adored by fans for his charming persona, but behind the scenes, he carries a secret. Caught between his responsibilities and a hidden connection that pulls him in, every encounter becomes harder to resist. As his inner conflict grows, Beomgyu must face a choice that could change everything—if he's ready to make it.

pairing: beomgyu x afab!reader

trope: forbidden/secret lovers (uhh, the drama)

genre: angst, smut (mdni)

wc: 4.3k

warnings: not proofread, lots of drama, mentions of txt, alcohol consumption (just a glass of wine tbh), oral (both receiving), protected sex (yay), mentions of different positions, porn with some plot, honestly just widespread whoring (in my native language this sounds funnier, but anyways). lmk if i forgot anything (i probably did).

elle speaks: english is not my first language, so sorry for any typos and mistakes. also im too distracted, so i probably repeated lots of words. ill correct it later. feedbacks/reblogs/likes are appreciated.

elle speaks²: im not gonna elaborate, but beomgyu is so mil veces coded.

fic below the cut

Beomgyu stands in front of the mirror, running through his routine. His movements are automatic, as his body is used to the motions. But today they feel off. The rhythm that usually flows effortlessly through him stumbles—his footwork isn’t sharp; his body doesn’t hit the right angles. A step here, a beat there, and he’s off balance. His mind drifts, the usual clarity clouded by something else.

He pushes through it, forcing his body to move, but the sharpness he typically prides himself on feels dull, like he's moving through water. Each gesture is heavier than it should be, his body following the rhythm without truly connecting to it. There’s tension in his limbs, an invisible weight pulling him down.

From across the room, his mates exchange glances, the usual camaraderie replaced by quiet worry. “You alright, man?” Taehyun finally asks, his voice trying to not express too much concern.

Beomgyu forces a half-hearted smile, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, just tired,” he lies, the words leaving his mouth like they don’t belong to him.

He straightens up, forcing himself to appear normal, but it doesn’t escape their eyes. They know something is off because Beomgyu is usually playful and focused, and now his distraction lingers in the air, too thick to ignore. But the boys decide to leave him alone for now. They know that if he wants to talk, he eventually will.

When practice ends, Beomgyu returns to the dorms alone, grabs a quick bite, and showers hurriedly, the hot water doing little to clear his mind. The sound of the rushing water fills the silence, but his thoughts continue to swirl relentlessly. As he stands before the steamed-up mirror afterward, his reflection feels distant, almost unrecognizable. His face is tense, his eyes darker than usual, as if something is gnawing at him from the inside.

He dresses in silence, his hands moving on autopilot. The fabric of his clothes feels strange, the weight of them insignificant compared to the heaviness pressing against his chest. Each movement is mechanical, yet his mind is miles away, circling a conversation he dreads. He pulls on a big black coat, its loose silhouette seeming to shield him from the world. Buttoning it up, the dark fabric envelops him, heightening the mystery he already exudes.

Beomgyu checks himself in the mirror one more time, fixing his hair in a carefree way. He checks the time on his phone and swiftly leaves before any of his friends show up and starts questioning where he is going so late. He really does not want to explain anything, at least not now.

His footsteps echo against the pavement as he leaves the dorms and walks toward the parking structure, each step heavier than the last. The cool night air hits his skin violently, but it is nothing compared to the storm brewing inside his mind.

His car sits in the far corner of the lot, hidden in the shadows, as though even it understands the need for secrecy. He is a member of the worldwide famous group Tomorrow x Together, after all. The last thing he needs is to deal with Sasaengs. The sharp click of the key fob unlocks the door, breaking the silence. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he pauses, his hands gripping the wheel as his eyes fixate on the dashboard, as if the answers to his turmoil might be there.

For a moment, he sits motionless. He does not want to face what's—or better, who's—waiting for him, but he knows he must. For the group. For the fans. He cannot let this secret fester, unravel everything they have worked so hard to build. It has gone on too long.

Tonight, it must end.

Taking a deep breath, he starts the engine, the sound roaring through the empty garage, louder than it should be. Pulling out slowly, he forces himself forward, even as his heart claws against the reality of what he is about to do.

The drive to the hotel is a haze of muted streetlights and empty roads, each flicker a ghostly mirror of his inner chaos. The streets are unusually quiet; the stillness amplifies every step. The city outside blurs into insignificance; the only thing that matters now is what waits on the other side.

He parks in the hidden garage beneath the hotel, the space dim and secluded, shrouded in a silence that feels heavier than it should. Only a handful of people know about this place, and that’s exactly how he likes it. Stepping out of the car, unease clings to him like a heavy coat, but he forces himself to push it aside. He’s come this far. Turning back is not an option. So, he walks with a determination that feels foreign, as though an invisible force is pulling him forward. Maybe his sense of duty, his rational side, or his fears. He cannot name it exactly, but he feels brave enough to put an end to everything.

With hurried steps, he reaches the suite he has reserved so many times before. Taking a deep breath, he takes the key card out of his wallet and holds the doorknob. In no time, the key card unlocks the door with a soft click, and the dim light inside spills out to greet him.

The room feels warm, too intimate, bathed in a golden glow that softens every edge. Shadows stretch lazily across the walls, giving the space a quiet, alluring charm. A faint melody hums in the background, a jazz ballad smooth and timeless, its deep tones filling the air like a whispered secret. Outside, the distant murmur of the city is barely audible, making the suite feel like a world unto itself, detached from everything beyond its walls.

He shrugs off his large black coat, the fabric brushing against him with a soft caress as he drapes it over the coat rack. His gaze lingers briefly on the off-white overcoat already hanging there, slightly rumpled, its presence a quiet confirmation of what awaits him inside.

The narrow hallway feels like a bridge between two worlds, and when Beomgyu reaches the bedroom, his steps falter. His breath catches, his chest tightening as his gaze locks onto you. There you are, sitting with a kind of effortless grace on the edge of the bed, your back to him as you stare out at the city beyond the big window.

The glow of the city lights spills through the window, casting a soft, ethereal light that dances along the contours of your face. It makes you seem as though you belong to the night itself, an untouchable piece of darkness and the stars. A glass of Merlot rests in your hand, its deep crimson catching the dim light, as if daring him to come closer, to share in the moment.

The little black satin robe drapes over your frame like it was made just for you, clinging to your movements in a way that feels unintentional yet impossible to ignore. With every subtle shift, the fabric slides on your skin, surrounding you in a sexy aura, adding to the quiet intimacy of the room.

The air feels heavy, charged with unspoken words and unresolved tension, yet Beomgyu remains frozen in the doorway. He watches you, in his mind a storm of conflict, as though stepping forward would shatter the fragile balance between what he wants and what he is trying to resist.

And looking at you like this, it is understandable why it is an arduous task.

“You’re late,” you finally say, breaking the silence. Your voice is calm and teasing, but the demanding tone is impossible to miss. Your eyes stay fixed on the big window, watching the city lights, not even caring about meeting his figure.

Beomgyu hesitates, his jaw tightening as he searches for the words. Finally, his voice comes out low, a growl. “I didn’t want to come.”

That is when you turn to him, your eyes locking onto his with a knowing look, your lips curling into a sensual, deliberate smirk. The corners of your mouth hint of amusement, though your gaze says something else entirely. You knew it would come to this.

“And why is that?” The question floats in the air between you, playful yet steeped in something deeper, as you rise slowly from the bed. Each movement is deliberate, smooth—like you're savoring the moment, and he's left standing still, unsure of what to do next.

He doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes flicking to the floor before finally meeting yours. The silence hangs heavy, laden with unspoken words and lingering tension. “You know why, Y/N,” he says, the words edged with a mix of frustration and something softer, more vulnerable than he would care to admit.

You raise an eyebrow, your presence shifting from passive to commanding in a heartbeat. With deliberate steps, you close the distance between you, moving closer, your eyes never leaving his. It’s not just your proximity that unsettles him; it’s the way your gaze holds him captive, as if you already know everything he’s thinking—and that makes him uneasy.

“Then why are you still coming to me?” Your voice is soft, but there is a bite to it, something beneath the surface, as though you are daring him to tell the truth you both already know.

Beomgyu’s chest tightens. The air between you feels thick and oppressive. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words fail him. He’s lost, his resolve disintegrating. “I don’t know,” he confesses, his voice barely a whisper, and with it, any pretense of control slips away.

You close the final gap, your intoxicating scent enveloping him like a wave, and for a moment, time seems to slow. His breath catches in his chest, his pulse quickening. You tilt your head, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that sends a shiver through him. Every part of him wants to step back, but he finds himself rooted in place, drawn to you in a way he cannot escape.

“You don’t know?” You murmur, your fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt in a slow, deliberate motion, the touch sending an electrifying shiver down his spine. Your hand lingers, teasing, and the warmth of your skin against his leaves him aching for more. “I think you do.”

Beomgyu’s throat tightens; the words caught somewhere between his chest and his lips. The air in the room thickens, each second stretching out, and the silence presses in around him.

When your hand slips beneath his shirt, he instinctively takes a step back, his mind betraying the desire his body feels so clearly. Even with the slight distance, he can still feel your warmth, and it makes his chest tighten painfully. The weight of the choice in front of him feels suffocating.

“I can’t go on like this, Y/N,” he admits, his voice thick, breaking with emotion. Every syllable feels like a release from all the tension he’s been holding in his heart, the internal conflict pouring out.

You watch him, your gaze cutting through the walls he’s so carefully built around himself. For a moment, you’re silent, studying him.

“Then leave.” The words fall from your lips with nonchalance, as if they’re the easiest thing to say.

He blinks, the reality of it hitting him in a way he didn’t expect. Leave. It should be simple. It should be the answer, right? Beomgyu tells himself it’s the logical thing to do—turn around, walk out of the room, return to his life, his responsibilities, his friends, his fans. All the things he’s supposed to prioritize. But with you, it’s never been that easy. The question gnaws at him: Why is it so hard to walk away?

“I can’t.” The words escape his lips in a breathless rush, them weighing more than anything he’s said before.

Your lips curve into a small, devilish smirk, and for a heartbeat, his heart skips. “And why can’t you?”

He looks at you, frustration warring with something deeper—something he’s not ready to admit, something that tugs at him with every breath he takes. “You know why.”

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice is steady, but there's an edge to it now, sharp and cutting. “I just want to hear you say it.”

Beomgyu’s heart races as he stands frozen, every muscle in his body tight, as though your words have shattered the armor he has been wearing. He exhales sharply, the frustration spilling over, mixing with the raw, aching desire that has been building for so long.

“Because I don’t want to stay away from you.” He pauses after his admission, the words heavy as they leave his mouth. His voice is low, almost broken. “You’re all I think about. All day. Every day. I cannot keep pretending this is not… Everything I want.”

The weight of his confession hangs thick in the air between you. You step closer, moving with purpose, the space between you disappearing as your hands find his shoulders. You stand on your toes, leaning in to meet his gaze, the intensity of your connection electrifying the room.

Beomgyu freezes, his breath hitching as your eyes lock. It’s as if, at that moment, he can see the fire burning within you. And suddenly, he feels like he is prey. If you’re the predator, he knows—he’s lost.

You lean closer, your lips brushing against his ear, this simple action sending a shiver down his spine. His breath hitches, the warmth of your body and your intoxicating scent overwhelming his senses. He shuts his eyes tightly, holding onto the last thread of control he has left.

“Then stop pretending.” Your voice is barely a whisper, soft and deliberate, carrying the weight of a challenge.

Suddenly, something shifts. His eyes snap open, wide, and unguarded, as if a switch had been flipped inside him. His resolve shatters, and before any of you have the time to fully process what’s happening, Beomgyu’s hands are gripping you, strong and desperate. He pulls you to him with a force that startles even himself, as if an animalistic instinct took over. His lips crash against yours, hungry and unrelenting, like he’s been starving for this contact. And he sure was.

Your lips part, welcoming him deeper, and the world around you dissolves. Beomgyu cannot think straight. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, but all of them are drowned out by the one thing that has been burning inside him for so long—you. The taste of you, the feeling of your hands on him, the urgency that burns between the two of you—all of this driving him insane. The kiss is consuming, wild, and untamed, like wildfire that’s finally been set loose.

His hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer. Every inch of him presses against you, and he feels like he’s losing himself in the moment, in you.

You feel yourself melting with desire, wanting nothing more than feeling him inside you again. No matter how many times you would be with him—each encounter, though countless, always feels like the first. The thrill, the rush, the need, the desire you share—it never fades. It’s intoxicating—this connection, this hunger that only grows stronger.

When your lips part, both of you breathless, you don’t hesitate. Grabbing his hand, you throw him aggressively onto the bed.

“I know what we have is forbidden, that you have so much at stake,” you say, straddling his lap, your voice steady but laced with desire. “But I also know why you’re here, why you always come back.”

“Why?” Beomgyu asks with his voice low and strained, his hands instinctively grabbing your butt. His grip is firm, and as he pulls you closer, you cannot help but roll your hips against his hardness, drawing a sharp gasp from him.

“You are here not only because you don't want to stay away. You just cannot.” Your voice drops, soft and confident, as you lean in closer, your lips brushing his ear. “And just like me, you never will.”

With those words, you adjust yourself on his lap and let the silk belt of your robe fall loose, the fabric slipping away to reveal a bold yet delicate lingerie. Beomgyu’s eyes darken, and he bites his lips.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” The man’s hands tremble slightly as they roam over the small piece of clothing, his touch both reverent and desperate.

“I’m not only hot, Gyu,” you say, seductive. “I’m also yours.”

He holds you by your neck, bringing you closer to him, and his lips attack yours again, slower this time, as if trying to memorize every move. The flame between you has not dimmed; it's now burning more intensely, taking away any doubt or hesitation he had brought with him.

When you pull apart, he trails kisses to your neck and quickly unclasps your bra, grabbing your boobs with both hands in a slow and sensual massage that makes you moan and bite your lips. He lightly sucks your hardened nipple as soon as he replaces one hand with his mouth.

“Oh, Gyu,” you moan, rolling your hips over his bulge and caressing his hair tenderly.

Before he can go to the other nipple, you grab him by the collar and quickly remove his shirt, scratching his chest lightly. Beomgyu holds you, and with a twist, you are below him. His eyes are sinful as he reaches for your small panties, swiftly taking them off.

“I loved this set of lingerie, but you look so much better without them,” he says as he opens your legs and goes for your glistening pussy. He wastes no time and starts to lick your folds, as if he were thirsty.

“Yes, babe, like this.” You moan, pulling his blonde hair and trying to pull him more into you. He willingly grabs your thighs, bringing you closer as he devours you. He takes turns sucking and licking you, like he is signing his name on your clit with his tongue, claiming you are his. And he is so right.

He does not slow down, and soon you are moaning louder. He knows how to use his tongue and always drives you crazy the way he does. Beomgyu then shoves two fingers inside your hole, and you are seeing stars coming into his mouth and calling his name.

“Oh, baby,” you say as he finishes licking your juices off your pussy, “Your tongue is really extraordinary.”

“Only my tongue?” He asks as he gets up, looking at you with that little smile you adore so much.

You only return his smile, sitting and unbuttoning his pants and underwear at one go. He quickly kicks his clothes to the side as you kneel in front of him. You grab his dick, pumping a little and giving kitten licks before putting every inch into your mouth. He hisses, grabbing your hair and fucking your throat.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N!” He bites his lower lip. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

You just look into his eyes and keep sucking him as much as you can. The intimacy of that moment and the unsaid words hidden in both your gazes tell everything you two need to know.

You are incapable of stopping.

Both of you are full of bad intentions, and both of you want to fulfill your inner desires with each other, so, to you, there is no point in denying or lying to yourself. You do understand who he is, but you do not care if everything must be secret; you just want him. And you know he wants you so badly, as much as you do want him, even if he always says it is risky and needs to stop seeing you.

He is already yours.

Beomgyu warns he is close, but you do not stop sucking him, and soon you are swallowing his hot cum. He grabs you from the floor and holds you tightly, kissing you and tasting himself. After a little while, he goes get a condom in his pants’ pockets. When he gets back in the bed, you pick the condom from his hand and open it with your teeth, sliding it on his dick. He looks attentively at you, and when you finish, he grabs your chin and kisses your lips with passion, an erotic caress between your tongues.

He pushes you into bed, and you smirk with pure lust while he positions himself and invades you. Barely giving time for you to adjust to his size, he starts thrusting, making you roll your eyes and moan in his ear.

“You’re fucking me so good, Gyu,” you scratch his back, which makes him hiss.

There’s nothing else in the world right now—just the way your bodies move together, the way your breaths mingle, the way your hands trace the familiar lines of each other’s skin.

“Why don’t we change positions, babe?” You suggest after some time, and he smiles, getting out of you.

“Ass up, baby girl,” he demands, and you just follow. He slams into you again, and you scream, this new position making you more sensitive to his stimulation.

The rhythm is wild; you are moaning loudly, and he is groaning a lot. Both of you start to feel you are about to come, and your breath becomes more erratic.

“Gyu, don’t stop.” You are grabbing the sheets, the knots of your fingers turning white.

“I don’t intend to,” he replies, thrusting harder while grabbing your hips and smacking your ass. This makes you feel like you’re on fire, and soon you reach your high, screaming his name. That was too much for him, and soon he fills the condom with his cum.

He could say he was tired, but it would be a lie. After you share a lot of hot kisses, he is hard again and goes for another condom.

“Sit” He holds his dick, and you smile, positioning your pussy and slowly swallowing his length. Your tits bouncing, his tongue on your nipples, his hands on your waist… The atmosphere is so erotic, you could feel the fire radiating through your bodies. Soon, you both came, calling each other’s name.

As night goes on, you try lots of positions, going for the ones you know are good for you both and trying different ones. Cowgirl, missionary, doggy, amazon, spooning… You must admit his stamina is impeccable.

After the last round, the room is now silent, except for the soft song that is still playing. Beomgyu lay on his back, one arm draped across his forehead, his breathing still uneven. The faint scent of your perfume lingers in the air, a reminder of everything that has just happened.

You lay beside him, your head resting on his chest, your fingers lazily tracing patterns along his skin. It is a quiet, intimate moment, but you can see he’s not resting.

“You’re thinking again,” you say softly, not looking up but feeling the tension in his body.

He sighs, his chest rising and falling beneath you. “I can’t help it.”

You shift to look at him, your expression calm but curious. “Do you regret it?

His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face; his touch is gentle. “No,” he admits, his voice barely audible. “But that’s the problem.”

You smile faintly, your eyes softening. “You’re always so hard on yourself, Beomgyu. What happened here tonight doesn’t have to mean anything more than what it was.”

He turns his head to meet your gaze, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But it does, to me.”

Silence falls between you, heavy and unspoken. He pulls you closer, holding you as if he could stop time, as if staying at this moment would delay the inevitable. But you both knew it wouldn’t.

“You drive me insane, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice raw and filled with emotion. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, as if needing this connection more than anything. “Besides the boys, lately, you’re the only place I feel like myself.”

You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. The vulnerability in his eyes caught you off guard. “Then why do you keep fighting it?” You ask softly, your thumb brushing his cheek.

“Because I have to.” His voice cracks, his gaze falling away as if he couldn’t bear to meet yours. “If anyone finds out—if this gets out—it could ruin everything. For me, for the group…

You gently tilt his chin back up, forcing him to look at you. “And yet, here you are.”

He swallows hard, his hands trembling on your waist. “I know,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I keep coming back because… You make me feel alive.”

A small, knowing smile touches your lips. “Then just let yourself feel this, Gyu. Feel me.”

With a sudden, desperate need, he pulls you closer, his lips finding yours in a kiss that spoke of everything he couldn’t put into words—his frustration, his longing, his surrender.

When the first rays of dawn peek through the curtains, Beomgyu finally sits up, his movements slow and deliberate. He dresses quietly, his back turned to you, as if facing you might make leaving even harder.

At the door, he pauses, one hand on the frame. “I know what I said yesterday, but this can’t keep happening, Y/N,” he says, his voice strained, though he didn’t turn around.

You don’t respond immediately, letting the moment linger before answering with a soft smile, “But it will.”

He exhales shakily, his head dipping slightly, as if your words were both comfort and a curse. Without another word, he steps out, the door clicking shut behind him.

And just like that, he is gone again. But you know he’d be back. He always came back.

“You are completely insane if you think I’m letting you go without fighting for what we have, Beomgyu,” you say to yourself, knowing that you got him exactly where you want: wrapped around your finger.

elle speaks³: im kinda ashamed of this one, not my best work. buuuut i tried. hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading ♡

elle speaks⁴: the second part, Beyond the Doors (or simply "Stay"), is out!

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction created by me. the characters of TOMORROW X TOGETHER and the songs mentioned are used for creative purposes only. this story is not affiliated with BigHit Entertainment or TXT, and all content is fictional and does not reflect reality. the songs “Hotel” and “Mil Veces” are owned by theirs creators and used here without profit.

© CHOIKANGHUENING 2024. do not plagiarize, translate and/or post on any other site, thnx. minors DO NOT INTERACT.

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 18

ISAT/Two Hats Spoilers below. CW: Suicidal Ideation/Mention, Intrusive Self-Depricating Thoughts, Verbal Abuse, Hacking up blood, just very emotionally painful themes and tones.

(The lightless void... You're back here... You kneel and hold yourself close, shaking. Tears streak down the right side of your face again. No no no no no no! Not here! Not now!! You have to get out, you have to wake up, you have to get away! You look around frantically, trying desperately to find an exit, some sign of difference, anything but- oh no...)

(You spot it in the distance, the dark cloaked and hatted figure, approaching with silent footsteps. The dark reflection of yourself, here to replace the bright one you had lost.)

(You stumble back, staring in absolute horror as it keeps growing closer. Nonononono... Not you, not again... You shut your eye tight and turn the other way, starting to run as fast as you can manage. It can't get you if you can't see it, right? It's not real, just ignore it!)

(You run in the lightless void, even darker with your eye closed, just sprinting in whatever direction you faced. You can't manage to keep up the pace for long, but you think hopefully you lost it somehow. Just as you begin to slow to a stop you feel a hand suddenly grip your shoulder, clenching down like a vice as you cry out in shocked pain.)

["Stardust..."]

(Your eye shoots open at that voice, immediately getting blurry from more tears forming.)

"Loop..." (You whisper out, unable to stop yourself from turning to face it. You're met face to face with that horrid sadness. Its wide, unblinking eye staring deep into your very soul, darkless and lightless in all the wrong places. It opens its mouth as loop's voice flows out of it.)

["Stardust... You only needed to help me with one simple thing. Get us out of the loops. That's all I wanted from you. And you couldn't even manage that~."]

(Their voice tears into your heart like the knife that once entered it. You choke out a few sobs before falling to your knees, collapsing against the figure and hugging its lower half.)

"Loop... Loop I'm so sorry..."

["I did it because of you, you know! You drove me to it, teehee~. I could barely stand a two day loop with you, how could I bear thirty years? You're terrible, terrible, terrible, stardust~! Imagine having to be stuck watching you crawl your way through the decades, just to watch you repeat a cycle..."]

-"Of erasing my change."- (Mira...)

<"Of never letting me grow up."> (Bonbon...)

|"Of breaking my heart."| (Isa...)

="Of letting me die."= (Odile...)

["Honestly, Stardust, it's a wonder I made it as long as I did~."]

(The tears flow down your face and soak into the figures cloak, just shaking and sobbing.)

"I-I'm so sorry I couldn't help you..."

[""Oh, stardust... You already have. Don't you see? It's your fault I'm gone. There's no longer a Loop in this universe, and I couldn't be happier about it! All you had to do was love me, and accommodate me, and include me in your lurid little life until I wanted to kill myself~."]

"N-No... No that's not true!" (You cry out, pulling away, starting to stand and walk back away from it.)

["Of course it is~! You were so gracious too, ready to hand me the Fighter's heart without so much as asking him. Aren't you the worst, Stardust~? Only one loop in and you're already back to treating your family like playthings, teehee~!"]

"NO! NO I WASN'T! THAT'S A LIE!!"

<"You'd know, Frin... You lie all the time!!! You lied about our super duper wish promise!!! You said you wouldn't make yourself loop and you CRABBING LIED!!!">

(The cold sensation in your body grows even colder at that.)

"B-Bonnie... N-No, I-I didn't! I-I couldn't, I swear!"

["It wouldn't be the first promise you broke, stardust. Remember when you promised not to tell anyone about our past? And then you went right to the Researcher and spilled your withered little heart out~."]

"SHUT UP!! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!" (You scream, making a scissors sign and swiping frantically at it. It doesn't react in the slightest as a flash of craft slices through it.)

="I'm glad you would trust me with those kinds of secrets, Siffrin. Researching your predicament is going to be the only thing I enjoy about your company for the next thirty years."=

-"When can we move on, Siffrin? You're not going to put our lives on hold just so you can figure out these new loops, are you?"-

"I CAN'T- I-I- IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I-I'M SORRY!" (You scream, gripping your hair and pulling on it, falling to your knees again as you feel the tears continue to pour down the right side of your face.)

["Oh, but it is, stardust! You made that wish, after all! You wished to stay with them! You wished to trap them together with you until they had no choice but to love you and stay with you!"]

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!" (You cry out, slashing out with your scissor sign again and again and again, the most you manage is to blow their cloak around the slightest bit...)

|"You keep playing with my heart, Sif. You had your dagger ready, why didn't you use it? Were you just waiting for me to come through the door? So you could make me pity you more than I already do?"|

"SHUT IT YOU BLINDING MONSTER!!!!" (You have to get out of here, you have to escape! YOU HAVE TO GET FREE! You look around for something, anything, there has to be a way out of here! You turn around and start running again, just hoping for some time to think.)

(You feel around for your dagger, you can't find it anywhere. Isa took it from you. He took your way out. He trapped you in here because he cared about you. You run yet again, but everywhere you turn, you see it again, slowly getting closer each time you double back.)

(With one last turn, it's hand lurches forward, gripping your throat again as you choke out, struggling and kicking. You're quickly slammed to the ground, knocking the wind out of you, gasping violently to try and recover.)

["Maybe us Siffrins should stick together, stardust. Why don't you join me?"]

(You fall limp under it... Maybe it was right... maybe you should just put an end to all of this...)

"L-Loop..." (You let out in a pained whisper.)

["It's better being dead, Stardust. Take it from Loop, helpful Loop~ The life of Siffrin isn't worth living. Your little family will be better off without you taking up so much space in their lives~."]

(... It's true... you've consumed so much of their lives in the past 30 years, and this time it's only going to get worse... Maybe they would be better off...)

["Isn't that so much easier? To just accept you'll never truly be worth loving~. I don't know why that silly Fighter of yours bothers so much. You must have done quite a number on that poor man to make him so obsessed with you~."]

(... Isa... You grip at its wrist as its hand remains around your throat. The figure tilts its head some at this.)

["Awww, is my little Stardust getting a second wind? You're so pathetic~."]

(It grips your throat tighter. You choke out, struggling and squirming in it's grasp. You have to get out of here, you have to find a way, you have to make it back... You have to make it, for Isa, for all of them...)

["You were soooo close~. Just one little wish away, so why fight it now? You're so much cuter with that sad, defeated look plastered across your face~."]

(It remarks, lifting you up and slamming you back to the ground again, hacking up some blood. You wheeze and choke for air, kicking about frantically. Get out get out get out get out get out!!! Your mind races, digging for something, anything to help you get out of here... and then you remember it, that visceral shade. The one that lit up the sky on that last loop, the one that flashed in your mind when you said it's name...)

["You better get comfortable Stardust, because I'm going to enjoy killing you over and over and over again! No escape this time~!"]

(Before it can manage to lift you up again, you shout the name of your home. Everything goes to that color as it fills your mind and vision. Once it fades you can hear your own screams, hacking up the same shade across the floor, looking up to see the figure stumbling back in a daze. It's working... it hurts like hell but it's working.)

(You shout it again with another flash. Your senses slowly return again, shaking violently, hacking up more of that bright blood. You weakly look towards the figure as it had fallen to it's knees, the air around it like static, buzzing and glitching, like the house reacted on your last loop. One more time... that has to do it...)

"---------!!!" (Your senses fade again, for much longer this time. When they finally return to you, you're screaming out, on your hands and knees on your bed. You hack up more, staining the sheets with the horrible tint.)

"SIF?!" (You turn to see Isa practically having kicked the door down. You weakly reach your hand out for them, gasping and choking for air, still hacking up more and more of that horrid shade.)

"S-Siffrin!" (Mira shouts as she rushes in as well, Odile is standing at the door still, holding back a struggling Bonnie.)

"Let me see Frin!!"

"Not now Boniface, let them help first."

"FRIIIIN! IT'S OKAY WE'RE HERE!!" (Odile shuts the door behind her as she exits the room. Isa is tightly gripping your hand in his, Mirabelle is pumping as much healing craft as she can into you. You did it... you made it out... you escaped, thanks to the love they have for you...)

"Isa... Mira..." (Is all you can manage to choke out, laying somewhat limp against him.)

"Shhh, shhh, save your strength buddy. We're here, we're here for you..." (You let him hold you gently, just enjoying his warm embrace again. You slowly close your eyes to rest once more, feeling safe from the sadness locked within you, at least for now.)

Huge thanks to @tactical-shrubbery for helping me with the dialogue for MDP, she is SIMPLY TOO GOOD AT IT! I actually had to change the ending because Sif would have literally give up if she kept going ^^;

[inactivewattpadauthor]

Revenant Kung Lao x Reader: Sweet Laollaby

Warning: Partial angst and plot confusion ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The spectators of Outworld all cheered loud down to the circular arena of the Kolosseum. Winds pushed up the sand, narrowly tampering with your sight, but you could make out who was the focus.

Your close one, Kung Lao, victoriously standing beside the defeated Tiger Shokan, Kintaro. The very first time you were proud. Relieved even that your human lover didn't fall to some fire breathing beast. But you knew how this scene plays out. Your curse was having to watch it over. And over. And over.

Yet, everytime you tried to scream and cry for him to lookout, not a noise came out your mouth as you're forced to watch and feel the same shock and grief when the cruel tyrant went up behind Lao and snapped his neck like he was nothing but an empty plastic bottle.

  Everytime, guilt surrounds you as everything around you darkens. Remaining beings were you and his body as it darkens unnaturally with red streaks forming on your skin. As his eyes open with glowing red orbs that dart to you with immediate hatred, his neck twists back to its normal position and he stands, stalking to you with spite. "Why...didn't..you.. do anything?"

And as he pounces at you, that's when everything is over.

You gasped awake in bed, breathing harshly and feeling yourself to confirm the regular. Just another nightmare on the trauma. Though, it will always leave you feeling terrible even if you're safe in bed at your home.

After the terrible event of watching your own lover die before your eyes, Raiden and Liu had to practically beg you to step down as a kombatant. You didn't like it but it ruined you mentally where it clearly has an affect on your skills. And you showed no signs of recovery. You weren't alone though, having the same deal as Jax from the Special Forces.

Groaning, you shifted out of bed. There's sleeping pills in the kitchen cabinet that could maybe assist on a well rest. Even if sleeping at night isn't great anymore when the same ugly nightmare would be waiting to haunt you.

After gulping down two tablets with some cold water, you walked around for a bit until you felt the need to lay down. Standing in the living room near the slide door, you pushed aside the curtains and gazed at the dark. You zoned out.

Within one blink, your eyes looked into the glass and it took you a minute to see two faint red glows. Nothing clicked right away until those eyes moved close in the reflection and you could clearly see a body step out.

Immediate fright struck you with adrenaline and you screeched, turning around and pressing your back against the glass door. There standing, was the man in your nightmares. The result of when you couldn't help Kung Lao.

The revenant's face was blank and chill, but you knew how revenants were. Evil. Not the person as they were before death. But from the same constant dream you had over and over, maybe you should've seen this coming.

"You're here to hurt me, aren't you?" The whine couldn't be suppressed down. Your hand clutched dangerously on the curtain behind you. "Hurt me because I couldn't do anything at the Kolosseum? Because... I couldn't save you?"

The undead man doesn't answer right away but watches as the curtain you were gripping too hard fell off its hanging rod, making you fall with it and covering your frame as you yelped with surprise.

Slight amusement roamed his eyes when he steps forward and lifts the drapes off you. Lao looks at your scared face and calmly responds with his own question. "Do you want me to hurt you?"

Bafflement replaced part of your fear. Shouldn't he be using his hat and tear you in half as punishment by now? Why isn't he attacking? "N-No..."

"Then I won't, my sweet." Lao chuckles under his breath and tosses the fallen curtain aside and standing you up. He had the same gentleness handling you as when he was alive.

"I don't get it. The common dream... nightmare- you ask me why I didn't do anything... tell me it's my fault. And you kill me right after. Aren't you going to do that?" You look up at him, taking in the slight smirk he has. The same smile he uses with you whenever he's taking in your beauty.

"It's a dream, Y/n. It isn't real. And Raiden's the real blame here. Not you."

Wait, what?

"Huh? But it was Shao Kahn that-"

"Raiden claims he could see the future. Getting visions of what is soon to come. So how is it he did nothing but stand there rather than preventing my death?" Kung Lao cuts you off and explains.

The explanation leaves you wordless. It's a fair point, but surely Raiden didn't actually want you love to die so suddenly like that. After all, you recalled him nearly striking down Shao with his powers before Liu Kang went up first. All while you looked horrified at the dead loved one, feeling your body stiffen with all the emotions like you were him.

"I guess the only thing that incompetent thunder god did to repent was leave you out of this mess." The cold man lures behind you, grabbing your wrists and spreading them like you were a mere puppet to him. He looms to your ear, careful to make sure his hat doesn't graze your head. "I'd hate for something to happen to you when I'm not around."

You turn back to glare at him. "Why are you here?" You tug your hands away for him to stop playing with you, and he does let go.

He shrugs. "Well, it's been a while since I've got to see you. You still remain beautiful as ever."

Holding your glare, you knew it wasn't all. "Okay, what are your intentions with Earthrealm?"

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you." Lao dismisses and walks away from you. It looks as if he was going to leave already. 

Your heart immediately told you to stop him. You didn't want him to leave now. Not ever. Even if you knew it had to be some sort of treason to associate with a revenant, reborn in the hellish Netherrealm under a necromancy's command. "Wait! Don't go! I missed you!

Revenant Kung Lao stops in his tracks. You sighed and made an interesting request. "Can't you just stay and sleep with me?"

He slowly turns back and looks at you with appeal. You just knew you'd have to clarify right away.

"N-Not like that! I'm just tired of sleeping alone without you. And you're here. Please? You can leave when I fall asleep if you can't stay."

The former monk thought for a moment but with a face like that, even as reincarnated evil, he couldn't say no. "Very well. 'Only' sleeping." He repeats the request.

Gently holding you hand, you walk to the bedroom. Safe to say, you didn't have a nightmare this time when you fell asleep. The man in your dreams didn't seem too scary anymore. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mdmdusol]

Louis de Végobre's journey to the Carthusian monastery and his initiation into theology.

I think it's so beautiful to see De Végobre so excited about his trip and writing a whole travel guide abou it!

This post was meant to briefly introduce De Végobre's stance on a few topics. The next one will probably be about his relationship with Laurens and his relationship with Naville (no one can convince me that De Végobre and he weren't boyfriends). I'll also write another post about how his life changed to the point where he became deeply involved in religious matters (which is curious given today's reflection).

Adv:

---I'm not a native English speaker, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I'm from a French-speaking Swiss canton, so I'm here to provide information and translations from French to English, as well as transcriptions of letters. I often visit my beloved Geneva, so I created a Tumblr page to show you all the information there about Laurens and his acquaintances that is not so accessible online. Pls, help me with my grammar, i have to take an english exam <3----

This is a description of a trip made in 1781, one of his first trips, found almost half a century after his death in 1840. The first picture is the monastery (I haven't been there)

A Carthusian monastery, or Charterhouse, is a monastery of the Carthusian Order, a Catholic contemplative order known for its strict rules of solitude and silence.

I reached Chambery in a day and a half. Of the two routes leading there, the one from Rumilly is shorter, but the one from Annecy is more picturesque and variade.

Furthermore, it is a pleasure to see Annecy, where you can perform devotions to Madame de Chantal and Saint Francis de Sales, in a rather rich and beautiful chapel where their bodies are preserved.

I was recently in Annecy, and I assure you, De Végobre is telling the truth! I'm attaching photos of my stay! There are a variety of plants and gardens that Laurens would surely have enjoyed.

some photos from my casual vacations there Yvoire-Annecy!

And if you want to know what a traveler can see, I'll answer that it's the Cathedral, then the Castle, where there's a staircase that was built with great taste and very quickly during Victor-Amédée's trip to Savoy in 1775. Outside, you should stop to examine, in the castle courtyard, the facade of a very regular chapel in the Greek style, following the Ionic order. On the other side of the castle, you can see the gardens, either belonging to the castle or to a private individual, which are very well maintained and clean. The passageway is very pretty.

Maybe a comparation between the past route and the actual one could be my next trip!

On the way back to the city, you can see the fair sex, which is not bad, and some people say they are very good. I don't know if what is said is true: that the women there are not shy.

Then, it's best to visit a gauze factory, which is really the only thing Chambéry contributes to the surrounding towns; for two louis you can buy a beautiful gauze dress. There is also an industry native to this capital, although a little less famous: that of certain fruit jams, or rather, vegetable jams, which are eaten in salads.

Végobreeeee....🤨 You're supposed to be suuuper gay. "Some peolple say" of course. "Some people" "I don't know"...

We leave Chambéry and take the road toward Les Échelles. A league or a league and a half away, we see a very beautiful waterfall on the left, very close to the road. [...] This is the road at the end of which you will see on your right, on a large and beautiful stone, very well carved, an inscription informing the traveler to whom he owes the road he has just traveled, that is, the name of the King.

It's quite funny that he highlights the king's name. He probably was the most republican boy. He mentions that the king placed a commemorative plaque praising himself nearby the road. Therefore, De Végobre suggests some phrases that could replace this "pompous ridiculousness."

In half an hour, you'll be in Les Échelles, a neighboring village separated in two by a river spanned by a bridge. That's where the border lies; there you'll also find that detestable breed of clerks and office workers: prepare for the boredom of the visit.

Dear, of course office workers are boring. You're one of them.

As you enter the village, you'll see the Croix-Blanche Inn on the left; it looks ugly. But hey, it's there; it's the least bad option, and anyone with a sweet tooth or a gourmet will find it excellent.

You can probably find a beast of burden in this village to carry your luggage and yourself to the Charterhouse, about three hours away. These three hours are a continuous climb, along an excellent path for pedestrians, passable for horses, but impassable for wheeled carriages. However, if you can't find a horse and want to save your legs, you can take a carriage to the village of Favory.

Thank goodness this boy had asthma, I'm tired of just listening to the route.

You will find in front of you a gate blocking the path, the only one through which you can ascend the mountain from this side. There is the guardian, and there is the boundary that only the male sex may cross. So if you belong to this noble sex, advance, walk slowly, look carefully to the left and to the right, be ecstatic... I have nothing more to say.

"I have nothing more to say." Me too, darling.

After an hour, you'll cross the river. A quarter of an hour later, you'll pass a second gate next to a hut that served as a guardhouse at a time when bands of robbers threatened the convent. Ah! Look carefully at the path you're crossing! Finally, approximately three-quarters of an hour after passing this last gate, you'll be in front of the monastery entrance.

There you will be patient for a moment, until the gatekeeper announces you and allows you to pass. Their horses will be taken to an inn half a league away, and there they will be kept at your expense. But you and your people will be lodged and fed free of charge at the Chartreuse, except for an honest gift to be given upon departure to the servant who served you. In the house, you'll have to see the corridors, the rooms and the portraits they contain, the kitchen, the refectory, the cellars, with their immense stores of butter and cheese, the gallery, where the plans of most of the Charterhouses are displayed, the chapter house, the vestry ornaments, the portrait of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, painted in the image of the Virgin. But above all, talk as much as you can with the people in the house, to get an idea of ​​the life these inmates lead.

In French, he uses the word "reclus," which refers to the monks as prisoners in a somewhat derogatory way. I don't know how to translate it into English, but in French, you have about a dozen words to choose from that don't sound so horrible. I think this trip makes his political and religious stances during his youth clear.

That's all, if I'm not mistaken... Come down from this paradise, where there are no houris, and return to eat meat on the plain.

He clarifies that it is not a sensual paradise: the houris are celestial virgins of the Islamic paradise, symbols of pleasure. It certainly seems like his conclusion was that that life wasn't for him. (I'm not surprised; everyone described him as "openly" "gay".)

I find it funny how he says that with a touch of irony. He wants to express something like: "This is very nice, but it's not for me. I want to get back with my boyfriend and have sex 😄."

Make sure you go in July or August at the latest!

[skeleaton]

what if i touched myself in your car because the vibrations from the road were just distracting me too much

what if my hand roamed over to you and i put my hand on your thigh while you were driving

and i started rubbing you gently through your clothes while you were driving and i'm in your passenger seat

if you ban me to the back i'll just lift my shirt up for you to see my tits in your rearview mirror and spread my legs on the seats and whimper from the backseat

what if i pulled over to the side of the road, took a final drag of my cigarette and flicked the butt out of my car’s window while watching you through my rearview mirror with half lidded grey eyes, exhaling the smoke and letting it hit your hot reflection? while watching you touch yourself, listening to you provocatively whimper my name from the backseat?

what if i pulled the black hood of my oversized hoodie away from my previously hidden face, scoffed at you and told you “you're so desperate that you'd risk getting into a car accident huh”, trying to pull myself together and cover up the lustful undertone in my voice? trying to ignore that growing damp patch in my boxers?

what if i used both of my hands to abruptly slam the flexible front seats onto the back seats, deliberately trapping you in between and leaning over your beautiful body, looking deeply into your brown eyes to ask for your consent before you nod at me with shy puppy eyes? you know how important it is to me that my angel feels comfortable and safe with me, no matter how much of a tease you are.

what if i called you a “naughty bird”, rolled up my sleeves, replaced your hand with mine, started to spread your lips apart, exposing your wet and tight little pussy to me, and rub your throbbing clit with two of my tatted fingers, making our matching bracelets clatter in unison with your flustered noises?

what if i grabbed your thighs, sat you down on my lap, let you hump my clothed crotch and grind against me while i moved your hips rhythmically with both of my hands to encourage you, watching you with hungry eyes and telling you how fucking pretty you look? how mesmerized i am by you? how dumb it makes me to know you're all mine? god, i’m so in love with you and you know it.

what if i gently pushed you down into the back seat, left some hickeys on your sensitive neck, your collarbone and your perfect tits, sucked on your hard nipples and let my lips slide over your bare skin, spreading needy kisses and love bites all over your body while longingly tracing it with my fingertips and admiring your trust in me?

what if i tied my messy black hair back, spit on your swollen pussy and spread it all over with my tongue, gathering up your sweet wetness and mixing it with my own saliva before i retracted my tongue, kissed your pulsating clit and you could hear me swallow your tasty juices while my right hand reached up to grab and grope your tits, grumbling “fuck baby.. you taste so good” against your exposed flesh?

what if i nuzzled my pierced nose against your nub and inhaled your sweet aroma, causing me to groan in pleasure, as my warm tongue slides down the right side of your pretty cunt, down between the inner and outer labia, back up separating the lips, stroking and gathering the wetness coming from your pussy, my tongue going clockwise then counterclockwise, in, out, in, out and all around, licking and flicking your throbbing nub, my lips sucking harshly on your twitching clit as my lustful gaze wandered up to you, my half lidded eyes meeting yours?

what would you do?

[iseos]

: PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS

library. p. trainee!nakamura kazuha x f!r g. slight angst, fluff wc. 736 w! slightly implied that reader speaks japanese © iseos

the two sat alone in the practice room, the music continuing to play despite the girls having stopped dancing a few minutes ago. y/n watched kazuha through the expansive mirror that covered the wall; both were visibly exhausted.

"i don't think i can keep doing this," y/n managed between heavy breaths. kazuha didn't even open her eyes.

"same," she huffed out and moved to get up, "it's getting late; we should head back to the dorm."

"no—i mean...i’m thinking about leaving the program,” y/n interrupted, catching kazuha’s attention through the mirror. she watched as her body froze in an awkward half-standing position and her head snapped towards her.

"oh."

part of kazuha understood y/n’s sentiment; she wanted the best for her, yet selfishly, she didn't want her to leave. she was one of the only people the former ballerina could talk to and she would've been lost without her.

being a trainee was undoubtedly tough, physically and mentally. constant stress, sore bodies from long hours of practice, and sudden evaluations clouded their uncertain future and debut prospects.

as the song came to an end, an uneasy silence filled the room. y/n shifted uncomfortably under kazuha’s intense gaze, avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

they both hesitated to speak again, the weight of y/n's words lingering in the air. kazuha's eyes eventually softened, a mix of concern and bittersweet understanding replacing her previous unreadable expression as she sat back down beside her.

y/n stumbled over her words, voice vulnerable. “i love this—i really do, and i want to debut—but i’m tired zuha. i just don’t know if i can keep up with the constant pressure anymore. i feel like i’m suffocating.”

her eyes trained on her shoes as she fidgeted with the ends of her laces, "i'm scared that all this hard work might not lead to anything and i'm just wasting my time."

kazuha scooted closer, leaning her head on y/n's shoulder. she remained silent, taking in her words.

their weary faces reflected in the mirror showed their shared struggle, not just with dance routines or vocal exercises, but with the relentless pursuit of a dream that demanded everything from them.

a mixture of emotions swirled within the former ballerina. she understood y/n’s struggles, having similar doubts herself. the pressure of training, the uncertainty of their future debut, and the relentless grind had taken a toll on both of them.

finally, after a long moment, kazuha spoke softly, her voice carrying the weight of understanding and empathy. “y/n, i understand. it’s okay to feel overwhelmed,” her hand found y/n’s offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance, “but remember why we came here. we knew it would be tough, but we believed in this dream.”

y/n nodded slowly, absorbing kazuha’s words. “i’m just…i’m scared of giving up,” she admitted quietly, her voice wavering.

“you won't have to,” she replied firmly, lifting her head to meet y/n’s eyes directly, “we’ll figure this out together, whether it’s pushing forward or finding another path.”

a faint smile formed on your/n’s lips, grateful for kazuha’s unwavering support. they sat there in the quiet practice room; the music had stopped, but their resolve to pursue their dreams, regardless of how small it had become, continued to burn in the reflection staring back at them.

it was silent again for a moment, the only sound being the faint footsteps of people walking the halls despite the late hour. once y/n gathered her thoughts she turned to the other girl, “thank you, zuha,” she began, her voice steadier now, “and i’m sorry for dampening the mood—i mean, we finally got the choreography right, we should be happy right now!”

seeing y/n’s spirits lift, kazuha knelt beside her, grasping the girl’s shoulder. “think about how we felt watching our seniors perform. one day, that will be us, center stage with our own songs!”

“repeat after me: we will debut…and soon,” kazuha declared, shaking y/n lightly. y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the girl’s enthusiasm. “say it!”

“we will… debut!” y/n managed through laughter.

grinning brightly, kazuha practically shouted, “yes we will!”

as they caught their breath, both girls fell into a comfortable silence once more.

“okay, can we go home now? i’m so tired.”

“please,” y/n groaned out.