#my game always does that when i try to use the roommate system it never works right 😩

[moonfromearth]

It seems like the encouragement from Lou really paid off! Marissa got a new job in the business career. After being the one to run her and Dani's former nectar business, she realized she wanted to go into that kind of work full time.

Although that does mean that she'll be moving out (yaaaaay!!) and leaving Lou to herself once again.

[stellaralignment]

After reading @kira-serialfaggot 's post about inaccessible menus and @butterfly-sapphire post about non-customizable menus figured I now had sufficient excuse to rant about how I hate how every big restaurant's ""solution"" to these two problems is somehow always the worst fucking app I've ever had to use in my life.

So, to clarify real quick. I agree with both previous posts. Places that serve food should have their menu easily accessible somewhere if they have an online presence, and places that let you customize your order need to have that as a feature of any digital ordering solution they implement. Good? Good.

So, a lot of places I've seen (Wendys, Taco Bell, and McDonald to name a few) Have tried to get around how fucking horrible the DD app itself is by making their own apps with DD integration for the actual ordering/serving of delivery orders. Great, this lets them provide their own menu customization options, serve discounts/coupons, and generally have more control over the user experience. Fantastic. As a bonus, this usually also allows you to just look at the menu whenever you want.

Small issue. All of these apps were written by the worst fucking programmers I have ever witnessed in my life. I havn't gotten angry enough to de-compile or try to reverse engineer one yet, but my user experience has been so consistently bad and I've encountered issues that, as a software engineer, I honestly could not tell you how fucked their system has to be in order to allow that to happen.

Allow me to tell you the worst of these. I'm trying to order delivery from a store. It's late, like 7pm, but I know the place is open till 10. I can confirm this on their website (I do later for reasons that will become apparent) and google maps. So I punch in my address, make my order, and go to checkout. Unfortunately, the app tells me "Your payment method failed. Please select a new method and try again". Which was odd, but not unimaginable. I've had issues with my bank in the past. So I swap cards and try again, thinking nothing of it.

Except, my other card doesn't work either. Nor does using PayPal, or Google Pay, or any of the other payment options I tried. I'm getting desperate. I buy some games on steam just to make sure some of these are working, which they are. I was worried, but now that I've confirmed all my money hasn't been siphoned away somehow, I'm just confused and getting annoyed.

So I start going insane. I buy digital gift cards from several different sites and try using them. No dice, payment failed. I try using the website instead of the app, on my phone and PC. Payment failed. I boot up an android studio instance with a brand new virtual phone, install the app on it, and try to order. Again. Payment failed.

I'm starting to wonder if their servers are just completely down. A friend in a different state can order with no problems. A friend in the same town can order with no fanfare.

But my roommates can't. They have the same issue

Payment failed.

So. I'm going insane. I've now spent almost 3 hours attempting to order food, and I'm starving. It is at this point that my anger finally overcomes my social anxiety, and I do the one thing I never thought I'd do.

I call the store in question.

Now, in all of this there was one crucial mistake I made. See, that friend in the same town? Lived on the other side of town. And there's 2 different stores of this franchise in town. We didn't control for this, because the app doesn't let you pick a store anyways when doing delivery. It's hard locked to whatever one is closest, which isn't a terrible thing to do. You need to get the delivery address anyways, and you know where all your store are, so it cuts out a step for me. But having to choose a store might've clued us in to what was going wrong.

Because the store? Was closed. Not just closed, like mega closed. It was being shut down. It hadn't been open for two weeks, and would never be open again. The order was failing because they'd already taken all the computer systems out, and it couldn't confirm to have received the order.

So there was nothing wrong with the payment. Literally nothing I could have done about this. I am just barred completely from ordering because the app defaults to the nearest location for orders, and my nearest location didn't exist anymore.

And you'd think that there would be some way to communicate this to the user when making the app. But for reasons I can only assume are profit motivated (Though I have no idea how the fuck this is more efficient/profitable), the app just defaults to saying the payment failed.

Now, I wouldn't be this mad if this was just "oops edge case lol" where I suffered the unfortunate consequences of some procrastinator forgetting to do the thing that removes stores from the database. Unfortunate but not really anyone I can blame for it. But no. This is just the most extreme example, and it's not even confined to the one app.

Almost every single app like this I've used defaults to saying the payment failed and to try a new payment method when anything goes wrong. No drivers out on DoorDash to actually move the order? Payment failed. You're trying to order a seasonal item that got dropped today? Payment failed. The companies servers actually are down? Payment failed. You're not connected to wi-fi like an idiot and there's actually something you can do to fix the issue that's not related to payment whatsoever? Payment failed.

What the fuck is up with this lazy ass programming? I seriously doubt there's enough technical debt from these apps to justify not having a robust error catching system that communicates with the user what the issue is. By the fucking stars these people love collecting intrusive data, I'm surprised they havn't used this as an excuse to harvest everyone's fucking location at all times and send "error data" back to central.

But just don't tell me my debit card was declined when I'm trying to order a burger and you closed that store two weeks ago.

[imnotgoinganywhereok]

Welcome to a second Monday post in a row. Am I back on that Monday grind? No. But it’s funny that it happened twice. Anyway, ya girl is ill again. Yup, it’s my throat again - but just a common cold this time. Being a teacher for less than a month and they already got me. So sick of this. The weather sucks too and I don’t know what to do anymore. I hope it passes soon despite me having to go to work tomorrow anyway.

I hope you missed my Sim girls!! Since Serafin became a teen, these tree eventually became young adults and went to university!! All roads lead to UBrite, it seems. And that’s pretty cool because I love this uni!! I’m telling you, the high school pack was such a hot mess, a literal steaming garbage, I just had to play with Discover University to feel better. I even renovated one of the dorms for the first time - it was the cutest, and I limited myself to BG and Uni too!! It has 7 beds now instead of 4 because I thought such a big house should feel more lively, and I also wanted more roommates than just one so my girls actually have a taste of social life at uni. I think it’s adorable.

I picked the degrees that would later let my girls pick the jobs I thought suit them the most. Blanka studies History - a degree I’ve never picked before. Debora and Gizela chose Communications. Normally Gizela copies everything Blanka does but the job afterwards didn’t suit her, so I let her catch a break this one time. The required skills and their initial schedules are similar enough, though, so it’s all good. To be fair, Gizela might need this time with Debora - to realise she doesn’t have to be so jealous of Blanka all the time like when they were children; this is why I let them share the room. Meanwhile, Blanka got a room with some random guy with depression. Man, this takes me back...

Y’all, I cannot stress enough how much I missed playing with uni. The last time I did it, it was Andrea Doria getting her Biology degree, so laidback and relaxed. It’s embarrassing to say but this is actually my first time using the dorming system. I’ve never wanted to leave the houses before but this time is a special time for me - and I’m having so much fun!! Darby the Dragon, my beloved ( ∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩) I also like that the roommates can change with each semester - I imagine that some pass, some fail, some actually finish uni because they started earlier. It’s a relatively small thing but it matters to me a lot!!

So, that’s pretty much it for now. The housing seems sweet, the roommates are friendly, the classes aren’t the hardest (though you always have to work hard to be the best). Blanka loves to challenge everyone to a ping-pong game - she hasn’t won a single match yet. It seems this is all for now. I only played through the first semester, and I take 3 classes per semester so we still have 3 more semesters to go. I’ll try to make the most of their time on campus, so look forward the next post!! See you around ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)

[missspringthyme]

January 17th, 2024

Alexa from the future note: I originally wrote this on the day, but I made the fools mistake of attempting to post it from my tablet without first saving a draft. I will (hopefully) never make this mistake again because it made me so angry that I did not post the last 19 days worth of art. My disgust has lessened and so now I'm back, but because of this many of my writings are now being done days or weeks after the day. Blame the Tumblr mobile app.

Today I had a meeting with my supervisor, and as usual, I was a little bit late. Whoops. I woke up late (shocker) but not late enough to be late late, just rushed. I then skipped breakfast because the turkish roommate was in the kitchen with her friends and I didn't really feel like talking with her this morning (I find her a bit annoying because she's very clearly 18, and very sheltered. This is her first time living away from home but she lacks some basic life skills. She treats me like a parent and asks me for permission to do things. Additionally, she keeps trying to talk to me about how actually it's okay to be racist to Arabs, so I try and limit my conversations with her).

There's train strikes, and the trains are more expensive anyway so I took the bus. Unfortunately, I fell asleep on the bus and missed my stop, meaning I had to walk a little longer than I had budgeted. I should really start taking the bus before the last possible bus I can take before being late, but alas plans always seem more tangible in dreams than reality.

Anyway, I make it to the meeting and we talk. I managed to hold my own in the conversation and he complimented me on understanding the material because most students don't. The only reasons this is true is because (1) my undergraduate thesis was on distributed vs centralised sub-second timing models and my undergraduate supervisor is an angel who explained everything to me on brightly coloured sticky notes (2) I am incredibly smart and talented (3) I am incredibly good at appearing to be smart and talented and (4) he talks a lot and doesn't really allow you the chance to speak.

He does it in this very German way where he's very calm and soft, but he has this gravity around him where you wouldn't dare interrupt. I feel like every conversation I have with him is a game of chess. This time, I managed to make a really good move though, because at the end of our meeting, I pointed out a flaw in his theory and asked how he accounted for it. Tee hee.

After my bachelor's thesis, I currently feel that the brain uses a combination of centralised and distributed systems to accomplish the experience of time. I cannot in good faith support a purely centralised model of timing when there is adequate evidence supporting differential processing of timing information from different sensory modalities. This motherfucker has based his entire work off of a centralised timing hypothesis. It's what I'll be working on for this thesis, but oh ho ho if I won't have some stuff to write about in my discussion.

At the end of the meeting, a girl came in who's doing her thesis on the project that I'm doing my independent elective on, so we'll be working together. She seems kinda quiet and shy, but hopefully, we'll be besties by the time this is all over. She's from Greece, but also did her bachelors in the UK (in England though, so boo).

When I left I decided to take the train for god knows what reason. Like I said, there are strikes so there's no direct route at the moment. This means going to Heerlen and then changing trains at the station. However, for the 2nd time since moving here I took the wrong fucking train! It comes very close to when the train I am supposed to take will come, and the screens that show the route and the train number were broken.

Much like the first time this happened, I didn't notice until I got pretty far north. At least this time I knew what to do and got out at the next station to begin working my way back. It had begun snowing very heavily earlier in the day and there was only more coming, so I sat on a bench in the station and cursed myself while I watched my fingers slowly turn blue.

At one point, a train came and I watched it wishing that it was the one I was supposed to take and not the one in 15 minutes. On the side, it had the words 'Pink Pop' written on it. I have no answers for why, because nothing on the train was pink and when I googled it nothing came up. The thing I'm choosing to believe is that is the train's name. First name Pink, last name Pop. I stared at Pink Pop until it pulled out of the station.

Eventually, I made it back, and I had to rush home to get to my therapy appointment on time. I had made another stupid decision today (wearing Mary Janes instead of snow boots because I assumed that the snow wouldn't stick) so when I got back to my apartment, my feet were soaking wet and freezing. Only 3 minutes late, I joined the therapy session, frantically eating a granola bar I had saved from my flight in the first 30 seconds of the call. After that was done, I had my first real meal of the day. Hooray!

[skyrim-said-that]

The Daedric princes as roomates

Thank you so much to @the-drunken-huntsman for all their help with these headcanons! For those of you who want to know, Sanguine is at the very end, I saved my favorite for last. 

Clavicus Vile: Annoying ass roommate who does not clean up after himself and lets his dog do whatever the fuck it wants. He leaves dishes fucking everywhere and lets his dog lick his plate when he finishes a meal only to leave said plate on the coffee table in the living room. Has all the best gaming systems tho let’s be real, and he is willing to share them and leave them in the common space. Also, Barbas is a good boy.

Malacath: Gym bro roommate. If you are trying to get stronger or bulk up or whatever then sure he’s a great roommate but he is always kinda sweaty. Has anger issues. Leaves workout equipment everywhere? Have fun stubbing your toes on his 100-pound hand weights. Makes disgusting protein shake concoctions at 5 in the fucking morning with his loud ass blender. Lowkey is not a great cook tho so if he makes u a meal you best be eating it. Would beat up anyone you needed beat up no questions asked.

Hermaeus mora: Such a fucking know it all. The “um ACKTUALLY” guy every time you say anything. Points out any tiny inaccuracy in movies like its his job its literally painful. Hes taking like 8 classes and acing every single one. Remembers everything you have ever said fucking ever and will use it against you. He will however do your taxes and calculate the bills and stuff. Honestly probably makes u a budget. Also, has the textbooks you need for class in pristine condition just like chilling on his bookshelf? Lets you use them but if you crinkle even ONE PAGE he will be pissed. 

Hircine: lowkey redneck. 100% has a taxidermy deer head he wants to hang in the common room, also a hunting rifle. He just like has it around. He is a furry and has a fursuit. Pretty chill roommate if we are being honest? There’s a lot of raw meat in your fridge/freezer tho. I hope you're not vegetarian because he will make fun of you. if you’re not he makes really good steak as long as you like it rare. Also wakes up at the ass crack of dawn and try as he might, is not very quiet. REALLY COMPETITIVE, do not make bets/play video games/card games, etc. he will crush you and be really annoying about it. 

Azura: Azura is the crystals and astrology roommate who calls herself a plant mom but can only keep succulents alive. She's really proud if her one rose bush she's had for a while but you don't have the heart to tell her it's fake. She's constantly trying to give you essential oils for any minor ailment you may have. She also likes to call herself the mom friend but gets sloppy white girl wasted every weekend and can never be trusted as DD

Nocturnal: the suspicious roommate you know nothing at all about. What classes is she taking? What college is she even going to? Where does she work? Leaves at random times, comes back at random times. Will disappear off the face of the earth for 3 days with nothing but a note asking you to fill the birdfeeder outside her window while she’s gone. If she likes you she will just give you random stuff? Where she got it isn't important. There is literally no trace of her in common spaces but she always pays her rent on time so no complaints. 

Sheogorath: You have seen sheo like 3 times since you moved in but the stories about him are great. Someone said he got arrested, someone else said he joined a Croatian traveling circus. No one knows for sure but he still sends his half of the rent money in the mail every month (with no return address) so you can't complain. Sometimes you get up in the middle of the night and hes just sitting at the kitchen table eating kraft cheese slices one by one. Tells you an extremely weird and out of nowhere story that you will think about for the rest of your life, then disappears for another 2 months. 

Mephala: knows everything about everyone and will find out all your dirty secrets by the second week of living together. She's ended several relationships so you hesitate to bring your partner over. Reads your diary and goes through your search history every time you leave. Is the one encouraging Azura to get sloppy drunk on the weekends with your booze. She breeds tarantulas and sells them out of your apartment, and you’ve heard the vetting process to adopt one of them is stricter than trying to adopt a child. There’s a written exam on spider care and everything. 

Peryite: Peryite is sick 24/7 and always misses class but always ends up with higher grades than you. Has pet snakes and lizards that escape like once a week and always end up chilling somewhere in the common space to scare you. They feed rodents and stuff outside your place so there’s always like possums and rats and raccoons just chilling. They all have names. If you are having issues with a person at school or a coworker or something, insists that they are weak and you. He makes and enforces the chore wheel. 

Namira:  THE WORST for dirty dishes, there is stuff in their room that was mouldy before they even moved in. do not let them use your mugs they will let a teabag grow its own biosphere before you see it again. They leave rotting food in the sink and suspicious unlabeled meat in the freezer. Nothing they eat looks at all edible but they seem to enjoy it? Offers you leftovers which is nice, but don’t eat them. 

Mehrunes Dagon: does not clean up after himself ever. You left him alone one weekend to visit home and when you came back it looked like a war zone. Have weapons just lying around??? This is super dangerous. Fights your guys’ landlord all the fucking time, how has he not been kicked out yet. Hates everyone you have ever dated for no reason, you probably shouldn’t bring them around. The good news is that when you do break up he will break their arms for you. You’re welcome :)

Boethiah: would be some kind of organizer. Definitely am anarchist punk. If you ever go to them with relationship or friendship troubles their only advice is "kill them". Loves conflict tho, so nosy to other people’s drama and encourages the worst possible outcomes bc it’s funny. Honestly? Hes just a shitty roommate. Honest with his opinions tho, if you’re gonna go out and ask his opinion on your outfit he’s gonna be brutally honest. 

Vaermina: is taking night classes so you can't make any noise in the day while she's sleeping. Has a really creepy vibe about her and whenever she's up at night it barely sounds like a person moving around. Gives an in-depth analysis of your dreams and nightmares if you share them and is able to guess your exact mental illness or childhood trauma based on your first real conversation. Her additions to the common room are all really cool stuff, but super gothic. She whips out a whole human skull and when u ask where she got it she says she just had it around. 

Meridia: is a nursing student always going on and on about how noble her career is. Won't let you decorate the common area ever lest you tarnish her perfect all white minimalist aesthetic. She doesn’t want to hang out with you and if you sit in the common room with her she will leave or side-eye you until you go. Just awful vibes, she gives you backhanded compliments. However, if you’re going somewhere and she offers to help you fix your ugly ass (in her opinon) hair or makeup, say yes. It will look great at the cost of some not so veiled insults.

Sanguine: The bad news is that he has very loud sex all the time and it’s really annoying. The good news is that it will sometimes be with you if u want. The fuckbuddy roommate. The absolute most mind-blowing soul-shattering time of your life but DO NOT GET ATTACHED. He will not commit. He does not want to be in a relationship with you. Also has all the best alcohol and shares it without you even having to ask. I hope you are okay with parties because he will be having them at your place at least twice a month. More if he can. Gets you absolutely fucking wasted but also makes sure you are having a good time and nobody bothers you. 

When he isn’t partying at your place he’s partying somewhere else and coming home as the sun is rising, tipsy. Also gets sloppy drunk on the weekends but never has a hangover. like he never ends up passing out or getting hurt or anything when he’s wasted. At no point, does his being drunk interfere with his having fun. If you end up with one he's a big believer in "hair of the dog" remedies and will make you morning cocktails before class Also if you bring people home for fun times he will not be leaving the apartment to give you guys privacy, in fact, he will give you and your partner a high five and a shot as soon as you leave the bedroom. Rolls the best joints with the best weed in the country, makes even better edibles.

[no-droids]

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here.  This is like.  You remember that one game, Mercy?  The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous.  Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares?  It’s child’s play.  It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person.  You never have been.  It’s just not part of your nature.  If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else.  You just… do you.  You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good.  And if it’s bad, it’s good.  Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit?  Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open.  “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron.  What are we doing?  Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up. 

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl.  You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench.  “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today?  Thursday?  Friday?  Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day.  Thursday, then. …Thursday?”  You shake your head.  “Ugh, see?  Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.”  He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers.  It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now.  Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that.  Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it.  “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation.  To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small.  Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here.  “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap.  You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are.  “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.   “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron.  First and last word, that’s all it takes.  And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?”  He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel.  “ Easy credits.  Just begging for it.  Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust.  As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly.  Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him.  “You just turned my money into a sex object.  It was vile.  I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging.  You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it.  “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now.  Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?”  You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them.  Withdrawal stage, ha.   “Of course it’s all that bad.  It’s horrible.  It’s the fucking worst.  And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this?  Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to.  “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you.  “I did not.  When the fuck did I cheat?  I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more.  He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire.  “Okay, first of all?  Rude.  I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright?  I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him.  And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good.  He smells… unbelievably fucking good.  Always.  Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on.  It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit.  No such luck so far.  

“Whatever.  The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.  “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want.  In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming.  “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is.  “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?”  He goes on, completely ignoring you.  “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen?  You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm?  No snorgasms?  Hmmm?  No happy naps?  No captain midnights?  No mattress fracking?  Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked.  “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again.  You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one.  “Anyways.  Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!”  You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting.  And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills.  Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems.  “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!”  You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation.  “There it is!  You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself!  Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both.  Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum?  This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused.  He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath.  “Sorry.  But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal.  And descriptive.  “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right.  Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh?  I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.  

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me.  Not right now.  Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh.  Something occurs to you, something… sinister.  Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long.  It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before.  You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan.  You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away.  A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?”  You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?”  Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more.  “Now many times did you cum in your sleep?  Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?”  He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time.  “It was involuntary.”

You shrug.  “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious.  “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?”  You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with.  Instead, your voice is soft, questioning.  Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait.  You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape.  The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,”  he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought.  Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this.  The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous.  “It’s your room, too.  Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there.  You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?”  You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number.  You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them.  “Red-Six.  Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder.  “Or, wait… Neah.  No—it was… Nalal.  Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter.  “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest.  “It was starting to get obnoxious.  Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is.  “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should.  Lower than it should.  You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls?  Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel.  “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head.  “Sometimes a sabbatical is good.  I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment.  “I’m sorry?  And… you’re welcome.  I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long.  The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable.  At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together.  I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block.  He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus.   You have to control yourself.  You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless.  It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this.  Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever.  One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option.  “This isn’t a good idea.  It’s… not healthy.  I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him.  “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing.  It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit.  “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection.  “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp.  “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—”  You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?”  Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky.  Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding.  Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast?  This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself?  “Finish it.  Sooner, rather than later.  Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident.  Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive.  Fuck.  Dameron, and you, in bed.  It could be mean.  It could be rough.  A fight for dominance more than anything.  He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now.  Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning.  Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?”  Are the first recognizable words that can be heard.  “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips.  “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance.  It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working.  Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before.  Of course.  Stupid.  Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air.  You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed?  A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet.  You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think.  Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences.  You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off.  This is different.  This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable.  A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…”  Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you.  There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him.  Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal.  You don’t like it.  You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead.  The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong.  “I mean, y’know.  Theoretically speaking, and all.  If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before.  Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something.  This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you.  Shit.  You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.  

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin.  You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done.  What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation.  You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it.  Stop it.  Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation.  How dare he?  How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses?  You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him.  Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier.  “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet.  No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright?  Don’t talk to me.  You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight.  And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it.  It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has.  Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least.  You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it.  You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving.  It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds.  A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons.  Mainly, the nerve of him.  The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,”  You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space.  You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare.  “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea.  “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge.  “You’re… plotting.  Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship.  “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it.  Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty.  Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it.  “Something that you like, that gets you going.  Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further.  “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should.  It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not.  This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable.  The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?”  You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same.  “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart.  “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks.  Default to normal, default to normal.  “Your fucking attitude.  Your demeanor.  The way you talk down to me.  You don’t listen.  You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen.  You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?”  He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second.  This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here.  He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on.  “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back.  “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it.  There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity.  Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed.  “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily.  “Have since the moment we met.  And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it.  You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?”  You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak.  “Pop the top on this bitch.  Put me out of my fucking misery, right now.  You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait.  And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up.  You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way.  He deserved that.  You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake.  Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you.  Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders.  It’s not sexual.  It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating.  He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline.  His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter.  They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.  

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret.  “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need.  Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words.  To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit.  You feel like you’re literally burning up with it.  You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire.  “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone.  “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember.  Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it.  How long’s it been?  Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless.  Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?”  You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes.  Oh fuck, be cool, be cool.  “You think this is gonna work?  Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek.  The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs.  How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard.  “Tonight, I’ll shave it off.  Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second.  Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow.  “Beard or no beard, makes no difference.  Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere.  You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone.  “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious.  Maker, how long until your shift is over?  You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league.  “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?”  Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder.  “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself.  Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going.  “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next.  “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me.  But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist.  Resist .  You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios.  Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting.  “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you.  Go nice and slow.  I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away.  I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it.  How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker.  This is a trick.  It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it.  You can’t fucking fall for it.  It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all.  He’s lying to get your guard down.  He laughed at your flirting.  He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him.  You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback.  You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say.  Your room.  It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now.  Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register.  “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see.  I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to.  Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out.  And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm.   Your bed,” he eventually decides.  “I want you comfortable.  You shower at night.  Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep.  That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point.  And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while.  However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening.  Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through.  Maker, it’s fucking painful.  You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?”  You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time.  Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body.  “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in.  Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before.  Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other.  Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies.  Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy.  It hurts to lose a first name.  But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design.  He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it.  Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now.  It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two.  You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea.  Nothing about it comes out right.  The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself.  Oh Maker, can you imagine?  How fucking proud of himself he’d be?  You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it.  Where’d it go?  Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it.  Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false… 

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear.  You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you.  Like… teakwood, maybe?  Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind.  What the fuck does teakwood even smell like?  “Maybe it’s just what I need.  You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low.  It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls?  Just a little bit?  That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad.  That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…”  You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now.  “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it.  “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato.  It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low.  “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.  At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs.  “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage.  “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this.  Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be.  You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want.  And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move.  Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body.  You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder.  “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you.  He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side.  “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—”  Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down.   But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second.  As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise.  The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use.  Fuck , it’s been so long .  You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now.  It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks.  “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs.  “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion.  The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone.  Fuck, he almost made you cum.  He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide.  You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again.  You have to close your eyes.  You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more.  “Shhhit.  I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it.  Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless.  “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck.  Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back.  They start… moving slightly.  Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize.  He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm.  Dameron might cum in his pants like this.  Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum.  You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight.  You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving.  “One… one more.  If you want.  You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you.  “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.”  You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether.  His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb.  The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure.  Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger.  He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time.  He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat.  Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief.  Genuine, not embellished.  He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go.  You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this.  You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again.  It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?”  Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that.  He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly.  “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you.  Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet.  Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much.  You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes.  It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it?  You could.  You could cum right now.  What’s two weeks of pay?  You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence.  Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear.  “Be nice.  I’m being nice.”

You should bite him.  Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now.  Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again.  Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying.  You need air.  Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this.  If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all.  Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore.  “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit.  Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half.  He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that.  Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good.  Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good.  Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in.  Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?”  He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them.  “How clearly do you remember the rules?  What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt.  No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer.  “Tell me.  No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind.  But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore.  There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement.  The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it.  “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends.  Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—”  The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out.  “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine.  “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does.  The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it.  You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout.  You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it.  You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves.  The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space.  He doesn’t even acknowledge it.  “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest.  “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens.  Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you?  Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck.  “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order.  “Right now.  Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it.  “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally.  The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm.  You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it.  Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day.  First names hurt.  You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence.  Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks.  A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

[bibbykins]

Insufferable

A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!

Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one

Word count: 3.6k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.

Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too

There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.

You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.

Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.

You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.

Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.

Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.

Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.

“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”

“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?

You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”

“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”

Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.

“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”

“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.

“No, but I know how you look naked-”

“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.

“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.

“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.

“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”

“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.

You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-

You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.

Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-

“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.

Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?

You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.

You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.

The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.

“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.

He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.

You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.

“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”

“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.

“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.

You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.

Old habits die hard.

Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.

The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.

Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.

You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.

“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.

You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?

Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.

You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.

He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.

I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.

I’m so tired.

-Mom

Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.

“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.

“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”

He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.

No thanks to him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”

“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.

“Wh-”

He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.

However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.

"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.

You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”

Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.

He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.

His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.

He froze.

Fuck, what food do you like?

He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.

Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.

Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.

He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.

Tip Jar

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha. 

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

  @mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife  @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki​

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos. 

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.  

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok? 

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished. 

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways. 

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing? 

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out. 

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”. 

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

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God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

[beigehearts]

Yandere adult trio: college AU These are drabbles for when they lose their mind and kill the people around you... and kidnaps you

These are going to be a little longer than usual but I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it (also im trying out the beta version of the new posting system so lemme know if anything is weird)

Sorry this took me forever bro

CW: murder, blood, physical abuse, alcohol

Hisoka

It's getting quite annoying to be completely honest. He just won't leave you alone, constantly flirting and making passes at you. And yet at the same time he makes fun of you and is actually very mean. It wasn't so bad in the beginning but this is just getting out of hand. You made sure he was aware of this. ---- He's looming over you as he corners you against the wall. You refuse to look up at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

While you aren't looking at him, you can feel him looking at you. You already know he has that annoying grin on his face that makes you want to punch him square in the nose.

He brushes his long fingers against your face, making a quiet humming noise. "Are you ready to give up my pet?"

You ignore his words and slap his hand away from your face. "I need to get to class, move Hisoka."

He frowns though you aren't looking at his face. He opens his mouth to say something when someone from behind him calls out to you. "Hey y/n! Are you okay?"

She walks towards you but before she can get involved you shove the man away and huff. What a nuisance. You turn towards him once you're standing next to your friend and glare at him.

"Leave me alone. It's annoying and it's scaring people. Got it?" Before he can respond you turn on your heels and drag your friend down the hall by her wrist just hoping to put distance between the two of you. ---- You're pretty sure you made it clear that you don't want him near you anymore. But by now you know he doesn't give up so easily. One can only hope that he gets bored of you and finds someone else to bother.

You and your friends went out for brunch earlier, and all was well until Chelsea handed you something. She said that she found it in her bag but it was addressed to you, so you put it in your own bag.

You pour yourself a rum and coke and make yourself comfortable on the couch of your shared apartment. All of your roommates went out for drinks but you were too tired to go out.

After taking a sip of the sweet liquid in your glass, you examine the letter you were given earlier. It's a typical white envelope with your name written in pen. There's no address on it or return address so you assume it was just supposed to be handed to you.

You rip open the letter with your finger and pull out the singular loose leaf paper. It's folded in three sections so you pull it open. The handwriting is messy but in an aesthetic sort of way.

Dear y/n, I strongly suggest that you go to class 406B in the technical building tonight. Don't be late or you'll miss the whole party. 10:45 pm - see you then. I almost forgot, if you don't come I have some revealing pictures of you that I can share with anyone I wish to. XOXO

This is the strangest letter you've ever received. It's probably a prank by one of your roommates or friends. You've never sent nudes to anyone so obviously they're bluffing.

Though perhaps you should entertain your friends and go. Who knows, maybe there will be drinks. But you are tired... Maybe you'll just go to bed. You peek over to the time on your phone, it's 9:12 pm. Yeah, you'll just go to bed after you finish your drink.

'bzz' 'bzzz'

Who is texting you so late at night? You sit up and realize you fell asleep on the couch. You wipe the drool off of your face and grab your phone with distain for whoever woke you up.

It's a blocked number.

ur late

Late? Late for what? Your phone displays the time, 11:27 pm. Are your friends really this committed to their prank? They must be trying to get Tik Tok famous or some shit. Well you're awake now, you might as well head over there.

----

The moment you step into the building something seems off. If all of the lights including the emergency lights wasn't enough, the ground seems sticky. Though you can't bring yourself to use your phone flash light to see what it is.

Eventually you find the room 406B in the darkness. The door is closed and no lights are on in the room. It seems as if no one is inside. As you reach for the handle of the door, you notice something on the window of the door. You can barely make it out, but there's what looks like a hand print. You chuckle, this must be a prank.

Now feeling a little better, you open the door and step inside. It's too dark to see anything but you can make out some figures in the dark. It must be your friends thinking they're being sneaky.

You roll your eyes and look for the light switch, finding it and switching it on. You squint at the sudden light, and your eyes begin to focus. Which you wish they never did.

There is blood everywhere, on the ceiling, the windows, the floor, the tables... But that's not the most jarring part. Your friends are sitting in chairs, one of them sitting on the ground against the wall.

There is your friend Chelsea, sitting in a chair with her head tipped down. You can't even tell what color her clothes originally were, they're covered in red, a dark dark red. Next to her is Derick, he's sitting the same way except his head is tipped backwards. His eyes are wide and his face is left in permanent horror- expressing the brutality of his end. You can't bare to look anymore, you drop to your knees and cover your face with your hands.

You scream and scream until your voice is hoarse and throat is raw. You're left coughing while you are drowned by your own tears.

"Are you ready to give up yet?" A deep voice asks from in front of you.

You can't stop the flow of tears as you look up at this monster. He's also covered in blood, and some is splattered on his face. He wipes a thumb across his face in the blood, and brings it to his lips. Sobs rack your body, you can't even make sense of this.

Hisoka squats down so you're face to face and grips your jaw bone tightly in his hand. You can feel the now cold substance being rubbed against your jaw by his fingers and it makes you want to puke.

"I got tired of waiting for you." His grin is nauseating, forcing you to stop yourself from puking.

His nails dig into your skin, mixing your own blood with that of your friend's. He brings his face close to yours and in a gentle but menacing tone he croaks, "Let's stop this childish game, alright y/n?"

Illumi

It's easy to miss things when you're caught up with the rush of classes and friends and love. All of the parties and hangovers are enough to satisfy your needs for entertainment and drama in this boring life. If you didn't fill up your daily life with these acts, you would probably sleep every day away until you fell into a coma.

To put it short, you're a busy body. And busy bodies don't have time to stop and look around at what is happening. For example, how were you to notice the key under your doormat was missing, or how your dresser drawers were left slightly open when you know you closed them before leaving. Noticing these small things are definitely not on your agenda.

It's 10 am, Saturday, and you don't have any classes or work today. You're sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and chatting with your roommate. It isn't often that you have a free day, and sometimes it is nice to have even if you want to get moving. The sun is peeking through the curtains and the aroma of espresso beans is a delight. It's a bit chilly so you have a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. What a peaceful morn-

'BANG BANG'

Your roommate eyes you when someone bangs on the front door, already knowing the events that are about to take place. She rolls her eyes and stomps up the stairs to her room, not wanting to get involved. You always feel bad that your roommates have to listen to this but you're really not sure how to end it.

You take your last peaceful sip of coffee and call out, "Come in!"

Before you can even finish your sentence, he storms inside and slams the door behind him. Your boyfriend of course is mad about something you've done. He trudges towards you and moves the stool next to you out of the way, and leans towards you so his face is next to yours.

"Are you kidding me y/n?!" He yells in your ear, but you don't flinch because you're used to this.

He rips his phone from his pocket and shoves it in your face after pulling up a screenshot. It's a conversation between you and his friend.

"Can't you learn to shut your damn mouth? This is our business and you have no right to tell anyone about it!" He's practically seething with rage.

You take a last sip of coffee and set your mug down on the counter. You continue facing forward and not facing him. "It's not our business, it's yours. And I asked him if it was true that you were cheating on me." You turn your head towards him while grimacing and mutter, "Again."

Ah but you've just lighted a bomb with your words.

His face has gone red and he looks like he's about to explode. You begin wondering why you were ever attracted to him.

"Maybe if you weren't such a prude! I can't even kiss my girlfriend whenever I want, it's ridiculous. You know full well that you're so... so... Ugh! You know what? Fuck you!"

As quickly as he came, he runs out of the house, slamming the door once again.

You whisper to yourself, "Fuck you too."

God he's such a child, you don't even want to be with him anymore. But every time you decide to break up with him he suddenly becomes Mr.Perfect. "I'm so sorry." "I love you." "Let me make it up to you." And then he does make it up to you only to tear down all of his hard work.

----

It's been a few days since your big fight with your boyfriend. He hasn't talked to you at all but this isn't uncommon for him. You promised your roommates that you would break up with him, not just for yourself but for the sake of their peace and quiet.

You texted him a few times while you were at work but he left you on read. He's so petty. So you text him one last time.

Come 2 my place at 8 tonight, We need to talk

He answers immediately which surprises you.

Can't, flat tire Come to my place

It doesn't make a difference to you where it is so that's fine. You wonder if maybe he's come to terms with the fact this needs to end. Hopefully so. If there's one thing you want him to be mature about, it's this.

Your shift ends at 6:30pm. You drive home, shower, get dressed, eat something and get ready to leave.

You send one last text,

OMW

It's read immediately but there's no response. Well, it's not like you expected much from him anyway. You drive to his house at 7:45 pm, and arrive around 7:58 pm. All of the lights in his town house are on. He's a few years older than you so he has his own house due to somehow being able to hold down a job. With his anger issues it's hard to believe that he can hold onto anything. Damn, he really is an unattractive person isn't he?

You step out of your car and lock it. Now that you're out of the car you realize that it's very quiet. This is unusual for when you go to his house, normally you can hear music or the sound affects of a shitty video game. But it's silent. Maybe he's waiting for you? He must be taking this well.

You step up the creaky stairs of the house, and knock on the equally as creaky door. No response. Maybe he's sleeping? You peek into the mail box and take out the extra key for the house from it. But when you go to unlock the door, it's already unlocked. This is becoming very strange.

You push open the door and peer into the dark living room. It's not too dark that you can't make out the furniture in the darkness. You step inside and shut the door behind you, it's still quiet. Not quiet, absolutely and undeniably silent. You flick the light on and look around again, nothing seems out of place. It's messy, with empty beer cans and bottles on the ground per usual. The stains on his carpet remain untouched, including the vomit stain in the corner.

"Jay?" You call out into the still atmosphere. Nothing. Is he not home? That can't be, his car is in the driveway.

The sound of his old floor boards being stepped on echoes through the house. What the hell is he trying to pull? You look up the stairs, but it's only darker up there than it was down here. He must be drunk.

Each step you take up the stairs, your heart begins to pound faster. Something feels off, this doesn't feel right. This isn't like your boyfriend, he's simple, he wouldn't try scaring you like this. On the top step, you feel your shoe touch something soft. You lean down and pick it up, and raise it up to your face. A pair of thongs that definitely aren't yours. So that's what's happening. He couldn't even pull himself together for one night.

Your pounding heart is no longer caused by fear but anger. He's cheated too many times to count on your hands, but this time makes you angrier than you've ever been. He's never been in bed with another woman knowing that you were coming over. This is fucking ridiculous.

You stomp towards his room and kick the door open. It's dark but you can tell that there are two people in bed. Your vision has gone red, you've never been this angry in your life.

You don't bother turning the lights on, you storm over to his side of the bed and rip the covers off. Just barely you can make out a woman sleeping next to him. You grab his shoulder tightly and shake him violently to wake him up.

"Get the fuck up Jay! Get! Up!" He doesn't respond, you lean down and yell in his ear like he always does to you. "You're such a childish piece of shit!"

He still doesn't move or speak, for fuck's sake. You stomp back to the entrance of the room and flick on the light. You turn around and begin walking back towards the bed, when you're stopped in your tracks.

Everything is red, but it's not your vision anymore. The bed has been dyed red, and his naked body is covered in it. Your mouths falls open but no screams come out. The woman next to him is splayed out on the bed, naked as well. Covered in red. You look down at the hands that touched your boyfriend, they're also red.

You rush over to the bed and shake your boyfriend again.

"Jay? Jay! Can you hear me?" You put your ear to his chest but you don't hear anything. You put your finger under his nose but don't feel anything.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up! This isn't funny!" Tears stream down your face as you pull him to your chest, cradling him.

Your sobs make it hard to speak and your chest begins to hurt. "J-... Jay... This- isn't-" You gasp between each word, "Funny..."

It's only when you hear a noise coming from behind you that you stop to think about what's going on. It doesn't matter to you though, they could kill you too if they wished.

"People are strange." You turn your head to see where the voice is coming from.

It's someone you don't recognize, he's tall, pale, has long hair, and hypnotizing eyes. Your sobs cease for a moment and you hug your boyfriend tighter to you.

"All of that fighting... You were even coming here to break up with him and yet... You're sad that he's gone?" He makes his way towards you slowly, "I've done you a favor, haven't I?"

He looms over you but all you can do is stand there, frozen by fear.

The man grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you violently from Jay. You try to run back to him, but the man pulls you to him, hugging you tightly. No matter how much you flail in his grasp you can't get away from him. You're left sobbing into his shirt, your body limp in his arms.

"Why?" You manage to whisper.

He holds you to him with one arm and pets your hair with his other hand. "You were miserable. He was making you miserable."

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. What is going on?

"Come on, don't waste your energy on human garbage. I'm here, so it's fine." He states it so 'matter of fact'.

"Who?" Is all you can ask, unable to finish your question.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. Illumi is my name." With ease, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts your face up to his. "Your future husband."

Chrollo

What more could you ask for? You already have easy college classes, fun parties, a good part time job, great friends, and an amazing best friend. Tonight you're going to hang out with a bunch of friends and have drinks at one of their apartments. It's a pretty normal Thursday night, nothing odd about it.

You're waiting for your best friend to pick you up, he's always there to pick you up on the dot. If he doesn't come early that is. You shove all the essentials into your bag and hear a honk outside. Must be him.

But of course you're always tardy. You lace up your shoes and run out of the dorm room, tripping out of the building. He's watching as you stumble towards the car since one of your shoes is already unlaced. When you finally flop down in the passenger seat he shakes his head with a knowing smile.

"Oh y/n, will you ever be organized?" He asks with amusement.

You click your tongue and straighten out your clothes, "Don't ask such stupid questions."

He turns his body towards you as much as possible and pats his lap. You instinctively know what that means. You hike your foot up above the console and put your foot on his lap. He begins tying your shoe, his smile is unmoving. He's always smiling.

"Chrollo, you don't need to baby me." You roll your eyes and groan.

He laughs and pats your leg, signaling that he's done. "If not me then who?"

You swing your leg back over to your side and buckle up. The two of you hang out a lot. Since you're both going to the hangout tonight, you decided to car pool. But first you're going to go get the alcohol. Everyone has to bring something for everyone, that way you guys can get wasted with no qualms.

You plug your phone into the aux and play your shared playlist. The first song that comes on is "The Cult of Dionysus" by The Orion Experience. Something that he added.

Finally you feel like you can relax, it always feels that way around Chrollo. His presence is just, comforting, in every way. You feel like you can do anything, say anything, ask for anything. He's always there for you with no exceptions and honestly you think you may have feelings for him. But it's a question of are you confusing comfort and friendly affection for romanticism. It's just that he's so perfect, he doesn't have a single flaw. Not one that you've ever seen at least. You probably never will see one of his flaws.

You sink into the seat and sigh.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looks back at the road. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing... Just, everything is good."

He knows you better than anyone, so it's an obvious lie when you say this. "But what?"

Anytime he calls you out, you surrender and tell him everything. "Everything is so great you know." He nods with your statement. "I go to a good school, have good friends, have a good job." This has been on your mind for quite some time.

"Something is missing, you know? The excitement, the... the..." You chuckle and turn towards him and put up jazz hands, "The pizzazz!"

He doesn't turn to look at you but you know he saw you when his smile widens. "I get that. Maybe you just need to step outside of your comfort zone. Do something different."

Do something different? Yeah, maybe that is what you need.

----

All eleven of you are sitting in a circle on the ground, drinking and playing never have I ever. You take a long drink of your Mike's hard lemonade, which is just something to get the night going.

Dina wipes hair from her face and smiles, "Okay okay my turn. So never have I ever.... Uhh." She pops up when she thinks of something, "Never have I ever jumped out of a window."

DJ leans forward and raises an eyebrow, "Okay what kind of window we talking? High up? First floor?"

Dina answers, "Any kind, any kind of window." The majority of you put a finger down which makes the group burst out in laughter.

Your friend Zoey finishes off her bottle and slams it down on the floor. "Let's play something else."

"Like what?" One of your friends ask.

Zoey thinks for a moment, "Like... Truth or dare, spin the bottle. Or maybe eleven minutes in heaven."

Dj interjects, "I think it's seven minutes in heaven, not eleven."

"Oh whatever DJ, they rhyme." Zoey spits back.

Lex answers, "Let's play seven minutes in heaven!"

Of course DJ huffs and rolls his eyes, "What are we? Middle schoolers?"

Guac (which is his nickname) speaks up, "Oh come on, are you shy DJ?"

Finally the quiet Chrollo sitting next to you says something, "I'm not really interested. Right y/n?" He looks at you to back him up.

The group coos at the two of you and someone says, "We get it, you got something going on. The game is just for fun, don't be so serious Chrollo."

Chrollo opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, "Hey, you told me to do something different. Maybe this is the first step."

His face shows betrayal and you feel a squeeze in your heart.

He stands up and glares at the group, "Whatever." He storms out of the apartment, and everyone mumbles to each other. Chrollo has never acted like this so this is quite a shock to everyone.

In order not to kill the mood you speak up, "Alright, let's pull names out of a hat!"

All of you write down your names on a small piece of paper and put it in a baseball cap. Dina pulls two names out of the hat and of course makes it a dramatic event.

"Alright so first we have the most lovely of people..." She looks at the group like a teacher waiting for an answer from her class. "Gracie!" Everyone claps and she stands up in front of all of you, taking a bow.

Dina pats her thighs rapidly, "Drum roll please!" Everyone obeys her, "The next hot piece of ass is y/n!"

You stand up and curtsey, taking Gracie's hand and leading her to the closet. Dina stands in front of the closet once both of you are inside and grins, "Timer starts now kids." She shuts the door on you two and all of your friends cheer from outside.

Here comes the awkward part. It's too dark to see her expression but you already know she's blushing.

You lean towards her and in a low voice so no one else can hear say, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She shakes her head, and you brush a hand through her dark coils. The both of you giggle when your finger gets stuck in her hair. She leans in for a kiss, but before your lips meet you're interrupted.

The front door is opened and slammed shut, you hear the lock click as well.

"Hey Chrollo, you feeling better?" "What are you doing?" "Holy shit, please, what are you doing?!" "Are you fucking crazy? This isn't funny!"

Something slams against the closet door and Gracie yelps.

"Whoa whoa, we can work something out." They sound desperate "Back up!" You hear a loud thump and then screams. "Grab him guys!" It sounds like people are running around, but soon the screams become not those of only fear but of pain. There are gargled pleas and pathetic whimpers for mercy.

You and Gracie hold each other, gripping onto one another for dear life.

Soon the screams, pleas, thuds, gurgling, all of it ends. The apartment goes quiet and you try to silence your heavy breathing.

There's a loud thud right in front of the closet and then the doors are opened abruptly. There Chrollo is, covered in blood, and you can see the bodies of your friends behind him. Before you can react, he pulls Gracie away from you, slams the doors closed and there's another thud.

Gracie's screams are blood curdling, screeches and cries for help. You try to open the doors but something is blocking it, keeping them closed. As her screams get louder you throw yourself against the doors, trying to push whatever is there out of the way.

Before you can even imagine of getting out, the screams fade out into whimpers, and into nothing.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You're given no time to think when the doors fly open and you're face to face with Chrollo. He's blocking out the light and his usually neat clothes are crumpled and bloody. You look down to his hands, a sledge hammer hangs from his fingers, dripping with your friend's blood.

"Ch-Chrollo... Please don't." You whisper.

The sledge hammer drops to the ground and he wraps his arms around you gently. "Oh y/n. I would never hurt you."

He's so gentle with you, so gentle. It almost makes you forget what just happened, because he feels like home. "Why? Why did you do this?"

He steps back and grabs your shoulders, he leans down so he's eye to eye with you. "They crossed a line, a line that should not be crossed."

You begin to speak but he grabs your cheeks with one hand and dawns his usual smile, "You don't need them. You have me." He kisses your squished lips as if it were normal. "Right y/n?"

Slowly you nod, you don't need them. If Chrollo says it, it must be true.

"Good girl."

[tennessoui]

The divorced fic was so cute i want to scream. Does Obi have any time to be sad or are Anakin and his little demons always there to distract him from his infinite sadness

so i know most everyone wants to know what anakin does about The Kiss but here's a bit of light hearted angst a year before that (because humanity is inherently whatever but i am inherently evil)

aka

the immediate aftermath of the Router Incident (1.4k)

The night of the day of what will come to be known as The Router Incident starts off with a bang.

Obi-Wan gets home a bit later than normal. Not because his work drags on longer than usual, but because he is, on the subject of all things even passably related to his personal life, a coward.

It’s been at least ten hours since he left the house with the goddamn wifi router tucked under his arm because Anakin had said something about finding a new place.

As if this isn’t the twenty-first century. As if Anakin doesn’t have a phone with unlimited data. As if Anakin isn’t the sort of person to walk five miles to the nearest coffeeshop with his kids in their stroller, just to use their wifi to email Obi-Wan a series of italicized question marks.

Obi-Wan’s been practicing his apology ever since he got that email. I’m really sorry, I promise I’m not a controlling megalomaniac. I just panicked because I’m not that good at letting go of things. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but apparently I only know how to dig my heels in whenever I think people are starting to pull away. Apologies again, life is not a game of tug-of-war, and I promise I do know that.

He practices his apology, of course, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also try to put it off until the last possible moment. When he leaves the building, his car is the only one still in the lot.

I’m really sorry. Here’s the router back. I support your decision. Your kids will be great. I know you probably won’t let them see me, because that’s a bit weird if we don’t all live together, and you also don’t use social media, which is great because I also don’t use social media, but I would have made a Facebook account just to keep up with your family. It’s meant more than I can say to have something to come home to this past year, and I understand that you can’t put your life on hold for a lonely old man like me, and I will endeavor from now on to not impede your search for a new place to live.

No, too needy, he thinks at a red light, dragging his hand over his beard in defeat. He won’t beg Anakin to stay.

He would very much like to beg Anakin to stay, but he hadn’t even begged Satine to stay, and he had been in love with her.

He just enjoys Anakin’s company. His presence. Unwinding next to Anakin after a difficult day teaching is one of the things he looks forward to the most.

And this past holiday season, they’d had a big dinner at his house, filled to the brim with Anakin’s friends and his friends and some people from the local grocery store they’d met when out shopping together, and it had been so loud and so amazing. Nothing had been left untouched, there had been food on the ceiling (Obi-Wan suspects Leia to this day, but Luke had confessed), there had been leftovers for days.

You can’t just give me holidays like that and then take them away, Obi-Wan thinks angrily as he turns into his neighborhood. What will I do next winter, then?

He has to sit in his car for a second after parking, just to calm down. He’s the one in the wrong, he reminds himself. Anakin has all the right in the world to want to leave. It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

When he opens the door, he’s met with the sound of children screaming and crying.

Luke rushes at him and jumps on him with enough force that he reels backwards, almost out of the house. He drops his bag on the floor in order to steady the child.

Luke is bawling his head off right next to Obi-Wan’s ear so it’s very, very difficult to hear what a red-faced Anakin is trying to say.

And then Leia runs up to him, tugs at his free hand until he looks down at her, and then stomps her little foot with a scowl. “I hate you!” she declares just as loudly as Luke is crying, before her tiny face breaks into tears and she runs off.

“Oh, for the love of--” Anakin shouts, throwing his hands up in the air and chasing after his daughter.

Obi-Wan, ridiculously hurt beyond measure and without a clue about what’s happening, goes to sit down on the couch, still gently cradling Luke’s body to his as the boy continues to weep.

“Hush,” he says soothingly. “And, ah. Please tell me what’s gotten into the Skywalkers now.”

Luke only sniffles and rubs his snotty nose all over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Well. It’s laundry day tomorrow anyway.

“Daddy says you hate us,” Luke mumbles, just as Anakin comes back into the living room, notably sans Leia.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open in shock. “Daddy says what?” he asks, very slowly, making dangerous eye contact with Anakin over the top of Luke’s blond head.

Anakin flushes an even darker shade of red and looks around the room, as if that’ll save him.

“Daddy says we gotta go because this is your house and we don’t wanna stay over our, um. Welcome. We can’t reproach on your space, which means you hate us.”

“Encroach,” Anakin corrects, which Obi-Wan does not think is the thing that really needs to be corrected. When he tries to communicate this with his eyes, Anakin gulps and says quite quickly, “I’m gonna go check on Leia actually.”

Coward.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Your daddy is just being very, very dumb, a trait I pray with all my heart skips a generation.”

Luke blinks at him, his little eyebrows furrowed and his button nose bright red from all of his crying.

“I don’t hate you at all,” Obi-Wan says. “I love both you and your sister very much.”

“Then why do we gotta leave?” Luke complains. “I don’t want to go, we could never play Space Pirates and Lava Dragons at the old place, it was way too small.”

Obi-Wan thinks privately that his house, while certainly big enough, is by no means the proper size for how rambunctious the twins get when they’re playing Space Pirates and Lava Dragons.

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums consideringly. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?” Luke asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I really don’t. But it’s not my decision to make, Luke.”

“It’s Daddy’s,” Luke concludes, head hanging low. “And Daddy wants to go.”

Obi-Wan ignores the way that sentence drives what feels like a knife straight through his heart. “Yes, well,” he coughs. “Your daddy won’t do anything he knows you and your sister really don’t want.”

Luke looks contemplative. Obi-Wan wonders if he should feel really bad or downright awful for manipulating a child in this way. But needs must.

“And he won’t listen to me,” he continues gently, smoothing down the front ends of the boy’s soft hair. “Because your daddy can be very stubborn when he thinks he’s doing something right.”

“He’ll listen to me and Leia though?” Luke asks, head cocked and eyes bright.

Obi-Wan nods very seriously. “I think he would if you both asked very nicely and thought about a lot of good reasons why you should stay here.”

“I can think of loads! And Leia can think of a ton more probably!” Luke exclaims with renewed energy, launching himself off of Obi-Wan’s lap and up the stairs, ostensibly to their shared bedroom.

Obi-Wan leans back against the couch, equal parts amused, exhausted, and hurt. He’ll need to have a serious talk with Anakin soon. He’d thought the man knew that his home was his as well. Yes, Anakin still paid rent, an unfortunate but necessary sort of system, but they’ve never been normal roommates. And Anakin isn’t a guest who could overstay his welcome.

He’s. Well.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know exactly what Anakin is to him, but he had hoped it was obvious to Anakin at least that Obi-Wan would not ever grow tired of his presence in his life.

So they do have some things to talk about.

But hopefully this means that Obi-Wan won’t actually have to apologize for the router incident, seeing as Anakin’s fuck-up caused much larger waves.

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

hey,,,your thoughts and headcanons on indchuran college au 😳😳😳😳😳(i am very predictable as per usual)

o-o o-o college aus have my heart so thank you for the ask! These turned out as platonic/general hcs but I hope you like them nonetheless! (also this isn’t really associated with any set AU and is separate from the indchuran bros for life AU)

notes: this is based on the little I know about how US colleges/universities work ahahah sorry for any inaccuracies lol

— They’re all in the same year, and China and India got put in a dorm together with Iran next door (oh my god they were roommates ;) )

— They meet when Roshan heard Aditya’s got a copy of a book they wanted, went over to borrow it, and found Aditya trolling Yao with meme songs while the latter was wearing headphones and trying to study (this is kinda half assed and I don’t think it’s funny enough so if you’ve got another meeting scenario please do tell 👀)

— Yao’s fashion is a hot mess, per usual. It’s half lazy college student wear and half blinding eye-strain. Sometimes he still goes edgelord mode and does dark colors and goth attire when he’s particularly annoyed or grumpy (in addition to threatening to evict Aditya/steal all his possessions if he’s bugging Yao); Aditya and Roshan just coo at this. 

— Roshan dresses very eccentrically. I think it’s called the art hoe aesthetic? They dress like an art student but pick even more outlandish outfits. But it’s elegant in an eye-catching way, and it makes them stand out a lot. They like it and also love the attention it gets them :) also Roshan would be an amazing person to ask for clothing opinions, except that they might criticize your current outfits too much hksdfsdf

— As for Aditya, I don’t really have a set image for him really? lol I'd give anything to see him dressed in some kind of academia aesthetic (glasses are a bonus), but I feel like his style is more casual and comfy? just average person casual shirts and hoodies. Still knows how to pick good outfits though, but makes awful decisions when in the wrong headspace (like being Severely sleep deprived)

— Yao either studies a) business b) politics c) game theory d) a mix of all three (overachiever). I think he’d also take some of those like, quantum math classes and stuff just to ~expand his horizons~ and ends up taking enough to get a minor in that. Also absorbs STEM stuff from other people although he never went that route :\

— Roshan studies art history! They’re wicked at math as well though, I think they’d definitely be interested in studying pure mathematics as either a minor or a fun side hobby.

— Aditya minors in literature/creative writing and regularly waxes poetic about life. He also complains about the school cafeteria food in flowery prose. Yao yells at him to just make food himself if it’s so bad, but it’s too much effort 😔 (this is literally me)

I’m still undecided on what he majors in, but for now I’m stealing your hc that it’s biophysics :>

— Yao’s tried dabbling in stocks as part class project and part personal side hobby; one of his professors probably helps him with this, and somehow he gets a lot of money even though he invests in some very questionable things that look like shitpost material

— Courtesy of talking with @luyous, these three competitively study during midterms/finals season. They hardcore compete to get the best grades, even though they’re in different majors, and literally. the temperature heats up a couple degrees in the dorm when they’re revising because they all want to “beat” the other two 😭

— Literally they’re such bookworms but have a thirst for being The Best 😔

— Yao has a shit sleep schedule and both Aditya and Roshan have called him out on this multiple times; Aditya more often because they share a room and it’s kind of annoying when your roommate’s desk lamp is still on at 3 AM while you’re supposed to be sleeping. He eventually bought an eye mask for this but still has to forcibly drag Yao to bed at least once a week.

— Aditya is the resident boomer and tech hoe (although he fools around on the computer more than he does useful stuff) inspiration from you raunak <3

— Roshan and Aditya once tricked Yao into watering a fake plant they bought from Target for a full five months :) They keep a log of the shenanigans on their respective social medias as proof <3

— Roshan has a windowsill with a line of very cute potted plants! It’s very aesthetic and they show them off to anyone who asks. Don’t touch though because the plants are their babies

— Aditya sings very well! Has perfect pitch and all that. Does karaoke nights with friends, drags Yao along even though all he does there is type away on his laptop (and sometimes glances up to simp for Aditya). Often prank calls acquaintances, occasionally with Roshan, because he’s also pretty good at voice acting

— Out of the three, Aditya’s probably the friendliest if you’re a stranger, but it do be hard trying to build a friendship with any of them 😔 yao’s condescending to strangers and it takes some time to crack him if you don’t come off as quick-witted and smart on the first try, Roshan doesn’t really take people they just met super seriously unless they can impress/charm them, Aditya’s flashy but is kinda flaky and sometimes talks down to you and seems to always have something else to do besides hanging out one on one unless you win his respect. They’re good with each other though, occasional spats are mostly misunderstandings unless there’s Too Much miscommunication going on

— They’re all kinda legends for academic achievements. Roshan probably got a paper published in some vaunted journal about idk, changing methods of making pottery in ancient Iran or something; Yao has his stocks (and is also kinda rich in the first place so he’s “famous” before that) and Aditya probably got an internship or opportunity to do lab work for a cutting edge research thing

— they no-homo each other all the time it’s insane. It doesn’t help that they’re in close quarters (Yao and Aditya being roommates and Roshan right next door) so it’s like, accidentally wearing the other’s clothes, stealing snacks, so much touching and closeness lol classic pining material

— Yao jokes at least once a day that Roshan is just a parasite of his and Aditya’s dorm, with the amount of time they spend in there instead of in their own dorm, but they sniff haughtily and say that at least their dorm is much more organized than whatever indchu have going on (it’s true; Yao believes in organized chaos and pretends his organization system is having No Organization; Aditya just does whatever he wants and “anyways I’ll find it when I need it”, Roshan is the only sane one here)

— Roshan drinks tea religiously (all three of them do, but Yao chugs energy drinks sometimes, Aditya binges coffee when needed, whereas Roshan’s solution is tea)

— They’re kinda chaotic but it’s fine they’ll make it through uni :)

[papergirllife]

The Boy Down The Hall

gif credits to owner.

RoommateAU (roommate to lovers)

warnings: explicit sex, unprotected sex, cream pie.

requested.

When you first moved out of home to college, you had no idea where you were going to live as most students either lived in the dorms or had already rented a place nearby.

As you walked around the housing area with your two large luggage bags, someone shouted at you at their porch.

“You look lost! Need a room?!”

That was a year ago, Mark Lee and his friend Jeno were the best roommates you could ask for. Although Jeno did bring back girls from the frat parties he goes to, there will always be Mark who would huddle up in the living room, binge watching netflix at full volume to drown out the noises from Jeno’s room.

The boys held a special place in your heart, you’ve watched Mark go through a break up with his highschool girlfriend, Jeno when he injured his foot when he accidentally dropped one of his dumbbells on it when he was drunk.

You had always regarded them as friends, you never dared to stray across that line, even when your thoughts had wandered to unspoken places in your heart. Jeno was always a flirt, throwing pick up lines here and there, but you knew he meant nothing of it. Yet he wasn’t the one that was occupying your thoughts at 3am.

It was always Mark. All the times when the both of you cuddled on the couch watching TV had an effect on you, was it even considered cuddling? Just like this moment right now, the both of you are having another Harry Potter rerun.

Mark always found the movies interesting even after watching it for so many times, you would’ve too, if your heart didn’t find Mark’s face to be mesmerizing. Although he’s not what girls typically find attractive in campus, you found his quirky and wholesome reactions to everything he sees to be beautiful.

The way he buries his head down onto his hands whenever you drag him to a rollercoaster ride, the way he looks so serious when he’s strumming on his guitar after a shower. These little things he does, was strumming your heartstrings just like his fingers on the guitar.

Leaning onto his shoulder, you snuggled closer into him, trying to focus on the movie after failing more times than you could count. You could feel his muscles underneath his thin shirt, and the way his aftershave smelled, making your head dizzy, and your cheeks heating up.

“Why are you squirming around?”

“What?”

When you looked up from his shoulder, his face was only inches away from yours.

“Why is your face so red? Are you having a fever?”

Bless Mark and his clueless heart for giving you an excuse to escape.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m feeling too well. I’ll head to bed first. Night.”

“Wait, Y/N! “

You left his warm embrace, to the disliking of your body, and ran to your room, slamming the door shut. Your chest heaved up and down, breathing in gulps of air to try to slow your heartbeat down.

That night, you went to bed with your thoughts swimming in your head as you toss and turn in bed, trying to get some sleep that you know would never come.

That incident that happened in the living room has passed a week now, you still have a crush on him, but your emotions were no longer out of control, as long as you distanced yourself from him.

Mark could sense your distancing towards him, but he didn’t know what he did wrong to make you this way. Instead of watching movies with him whenever Jeno had his flings around, you opted to head down to the cafe nearby, even by the means of walking in the cold.

On this particular Friday night, as you were going to huddle up in your room, reading the new book you’ve gotten, Jeno pops his head in.

“We’re going to a party.”

You looked at him quizzically, as if he was speaking a foreign language.

“No we’re not.”

“Yes, you are. Stop being a hermit in your room and meet new people.”

“I have nothing to wear, Jeno. I’ll be a laughing stock at your frat parties.”

Jeno dumped a bag on your bed.

“That’s yours. Get changed.”

You looked into the bag and found a semi low v cut navy blue dress with small little stars all over it.

“You’re crazy.”

“Y/N, you act like a hermit, but you don’t look like one, don’t act like you don’t go to the gym everyday after school. “

“ That’s from my friend’s sugar daddy, of course I’ll utilise it to the fullest.”

“I can’t believe the people working there don’t notice scammers on their threadmills.”

“Shut up, Lee Jeno. Not everyone’s loaded like you.”

“At least I’m nice? Just go, okay? as a favour to all the food I bought you?”

“Fine. Get out, I’ll get changed.”

“I knew you wouldn’t say no to a hottie like me.”

You pushed him out of the room and shut the door on him.

When you finished changing and applying the bare minimum make up, you were out of the door.

You stopped in your tracks when you see someone waiting for you outside your room, it was Mark, but not the Mark you’ve known. Standing in front of you was a brand new Mark. His hair was styled to show his forehead, he was wearing a black silk button up and dark washed jeans with his usual sneakers.

“Mark?”

He looked up, and you swear your heart did a little skip. You stepped a little closer to him, his eyes trained on you. You could smell the scent of his cologne, making you addicted to the musky scent.

“You look great, Y/N. Really great.”

“You look good too.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen you all dressed up before.”

“Jeno, made me. I see he managed to persuade you too.”

“Yeah, he bribed me with food.”

He let out a small chuckle, a hand behind your back, guiding you out to the living area. His sweet gestures making you crave for more.

“Finally. Took you two forever.”

When you arrived at the party, the scene was wild. Or to you it was.

Jeno guided the both of you to get drinks. Just as you were sipping on your first drink, Jeno pulled Mark away to meet some girl.

You stood there on your own, a bitter taste in your mouth, and it definitely wasn’t from the alcohol in your cup. You never had the guts to express your feelings to Mark, even though your eyes always had a sense of longing in them whenever you were with him, he was just too oblivious.

You chugged your cup, refilling it once more, hoping that it will wash away your bitter longing towards your roommate.

As you were on your tenth? Or eight? You don’t remember. Someone walked up to you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you being here all alone?”

It was Sehun, the famous playboy in his senior year that made a reputation of himself  by sleeping with girls and leaving them heartbroken in the morning.

You looked at him, he was handsome, but you have enough problems in a lifetime.

“My boyfriend’s in the toilet.”

“I’ve observed you for a while now, doll. I don’t see anyone coming back for you. Let me show you how much appreciation I could show you.”

Sehun was tugging at your arm, dragging you towards somewhere you didn’t know.

“Stop. Sehun, stop!”

The alcohol in your system was stopping you from fighting back his advances, your mind foggy.

Just as he was about to lead you into a room, someone stopped him.

“Get away from her!”

Someone pushed Sehun away from you, but that person didn’t notice Sehun holding onto you, making you fall to the ground, your intoxicated state a blame for your lack of balance.

“Shit! Y/N!”

“Mark?”

Mark picked you up from the ground as Sehun scowled at the both of you.

“Pathetic.”

He said as he walked away.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

But as you tried to take a step forward, your left foot had a mild ache.

“I’ll carry you.”

“No, Mark. It’s fine.”

Ignoring your protests, Mark carried you, bridal style.

Mark was going to carry you down the stairs, but he bumped into Donghyuck, a gaming friend of his.

“Hyuck, can I borrow your room for a while? My friend injured her leg.”

“Injured her leg? Sure,sure.”

Donghyuck was quirking his eyebrows, suggesting some other activity. You could feel your face heating up from the suggestions Donghyuck was making. You were thankful for the dim lighting in this area.

“I’m serious, Hyuck.”

“Okay, whatever you say, first aid kit’s in the bathroom behind the mirror. And if you ever change your mind, please do it in the bathtub and wash it off after. Not my bed.” 

Donghyuck said as he walked away.

“Sometimes I question the friends I make.”

Mark mumbled as he walked towards the direction of Donghyuck’s room.

Mark pushed open the door with his back and placed you onto the bed gently. He closed the door and went into the bathroom, coming back with the first aid kit in his hand.

Mark knelt down and took off your left shoe to sprayed something on your leg, he wrapped some bandages for safe measure.

After he finished, Mark took your hands into his, his big starry eyes looking into yours. You were always a sucker for his big doe eyes, one of your favourite features of his. 

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault Mark. You didn’t know. I should be the one who’s sorry. I made you miss your chance with that girl Jeno introduced you to.

Mark shook his head and let out a chuckle.

“Trust me, Y/N. I have zero interests in her. She’s even a slytherin.”

Mark has a grudge against slytherins after his ex, citing that they’re too complicated.

“I rather hang out with you, my felllow gryffindor. I’ll call Jeno and see when we can leave.”

He stood up and dialed Jeno’s number. You didn’t bother listening to what they were saying as you zoned out of reality, trying to calm your beating heart for the sweetheart in front of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I called him while he was fucking. But he said he’ll be done in an hour or so.”

Mark said as he sat down on the bed next to you.

“Go get us a bottle of something Mark. I’m in the mood for a drink. Drink with me?”

You didn’t mean to sound breathless, but you just wanted a drink really badly, and the existing alcohol in your system was playing games to your head.

Mark gulped down his nervousness and agreed to find something for the both of you downstairs.

You kicked off your other shoe, grateful for the lack of heels, and laid down the bed.

As you were getting lost in your thoughts, Mark came back with a small bottle of what you assumed to be henessy.

“That’s some strong stuff you got there.”

“This is why we’re sharing.”

Mark took a sip from the bottle and handed it to you. He took off his own shoes and climbed into bed next to you, the alcohol in your system giving you the courage to snuggle close to his side as the both of you took turns drinking from the bottle.

It must’ve been forever when Jeno came looking for the both of you, the bottle long empty, with a drunk emotional Mark by your side. As Mark had drank more from the bottle than you, citing that you were barely sober before, he’s the one who’s completely hammered now, while you were just tipsy, an improvement from all the other times you had drank.

Mark was mumbling incoherently as Jeno held onto his arm over his shoulder, while Jeno’s other hand was held onto yours, insisting that you still had too much alcohol in your system to fend for yourself, to the disliking of Jeno’s fans.

“Mark, shut up!”

“Jeno, what’s wrong?”

“He keeps asking why I’m holding your hand, and when I say why, he keeps saying don’t. Something’s seriously wrong with drunk Mark.”

“Let’s just quickly get him into the car. You didn’t drink tonight, right?”

“No.”

After Jeno successfully sat him in the backseat, Mark reached for your hand and told you to sit next to him instead of the front. So you obliged to his request, sitting next to him, his head instantly falls onto your shoulder.

As all of you were halfway to home, Mark suddenly sat up and looked you in the eyes, trying to stable himself as much as possible in his intoxicated state.

“Y/N, I like you.”

No, he couldn’t. He’s probably not in his right mind and is just saying that as friends. But you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up at his words. Why does he have to mess with your heart this way?

“Mark, don’t say things that you don’t mean and will forget in the morning.Whatever you want to tell me, say it to me in the morning when you’re sober, not now.”

“But I do mean it! I’ve liked you since the second month you moved in with us! I mean it, Y/N, every word. I’m not going to forget this in the morning. I’ll say it a million times.”

Mark then started to repeat that he likes you, each time getting louder. You could see Jeno’s shoulders tensing up at the noise, but the car had already reached the driveway.

You and Jeno carried Mark to his room with no big difficulties.

“Can you get him in the bed properly on your own? I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, sure. Goodnight, Jeno.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Once Jeno left, Mark started acting up again, whining your name.

“Okay, okay. I’m here now. Remind me not to let you get drunk next time. Who knew you could be such a whiny baby when you’re not sober.”

You said as you took off his shoes and placed his legs in his bed,covering him in his fluffy blanket.

You prepared to stand up when Mark held onto your hand.

“Cuddles?”

“I need to get myself cleaned up, Mark. You can have cuddles tomorrow, that is if you still want them.”

You shushed Mark who was acting up again by warning him of a grumpy Jeno next door.

So you left Mark and went back to your own room and washed up for the night. You slipped under your blanket, the warmth welcoming you. Just as you were about to fall asleep, someone slipped into your bed.

One whiff from your nose tells you it’s Mark. When you were about to tell him to go back to his won room, he speaks up.

“I love you,Y/N.”

You chose to not open your eyes as you didn’t know how to answer to his drunken love confession, instead you let him cuddle you to slumber, knowing that you were going to regret this in the morning.

When Mark woke up, he was surprised to see himself not being in his own room, then realising it was Y/N’s room, letting out a breath of air he didn’t realise he was holding.

Y/N was sound asleep beside him, her pretty face illuminated by the rays sunlight of sunlight peeking in through the curtains that weren’t drawn completely.

She’s beautiful, Mark thought to himself.

He observed further, the way your nose perfectly arches, the way your pretty lips are opened slightly, he couldn’t get enough of you. His thoughts took him back to the way you looked in that stunning dress last night, all dolled up, but looking at the person beside him right now, he prefers your face without a drop of make up more, the way he sees you on a daily basis, the Y/N that effortlessly made him fall for.

Mark climbed out your bed carefully, hoping his actions wouldn’t wake you up. When he got out to the kitchen to get some cereal for breakfast, there were already nutella sandwiches awaiting him, Jeno sitting at the other side of the island.

”Is there something wrong? You only make me breakfast when we have serious talks, did you break something?”

“No. But we do need to talk. I’ll let you listen to something I recorded last night in the car while you were drunk off your ass.”

Jeno placed his phone on the island and opened the recording app, tapped on last night’s recording.

Instantly, Mark whining about him liking Y/N from last night was all over the house.

Mark quickly shut off the recording and looked Jeno in the eye.

“What the fuck, bro? What if she woke up?”

“Then you’ll have the guts to confess. Look, I respect you as an older brother, but this has been going on for too long, it’s high time you should tell her your feelings. Y/N’s a nice and pretty girl, if you won’t confess by today, I’m calling Jaemin.”

Jaemin is the kid in Jeno’s department, that has had a crush on Y/N for months now.

“I’ll do it. Okay? Happy?”

“Eat up, then you’re going to make pancakes for Y/N.”

When Mark went back into Y/N’s room with the warm fluffy pancakes, she was still fast asleep,the only difference was that Y/N’s oversized shirt was ridden up to her upper thigh, exposing her beautiful legs.

Mark swallowed down the lump in his throat and pulled the blanket up to your waist. He placed the plate of pancakes on your nightstand and gently shook you awake.

“Y/N, wake up. I made you pancakes.”

Y/N roused from slumber at the scent of her favourite breakfast.

“Thank you Mark.”

Mark scratched the back of his nape as he sat down on your bed.

“Look, Y/N, what happened last night, the things I said, I really meant them.”

Y/N nearly choked on her pancakes.

“You remember?”

“Jeno made me listen to a recording of me trashing around last night on the ride home. I’m sorry if it made you awkward, but I do like you, and it’s fine if you don’t feel the same, we can still be friends just like last time...

Mark wouldn’t meet your eyes as he confessed, stuttering his words here and there, but this is the Mark you’ve grown to love.

“I like you too, Mark.”

“Really? But I’m just...

You shut him up by slamming your lips to his, he was shocked and frozen at first, but slowly reciprocated the kiss, his hands hesitantly placed on your waist as he gently pulls you closer to him.

You let your hands wander up his shirt, testing the waters. Mark took that as a sign to quicken the pace and shimmied his hands under your shirt, but being the clumsy head he is, his hands strayed too far up, fingertips grazed the underside of your right breast.

His touch sent tingles down your spine, a tiny moan escaping your lips. When Mark realised what he had done, he quickly pulled away to apologise.

“It’s fine, Mark. You can touch me.”

You took his hand back under your shirt, cupped his hand over your breast.

As Mark was busy toying with your nipples, you slid his shirt off, interrupting his ministrations. You had seen Mark shirtless a handful of times, but boy isn’t he a sight.

“Can I?” He asked as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt.

You took it off yourself, in a hurry to feel more of Mark. Mark’s eyes were filled with lust as he admires you being topless. You broke off his stare as you climbed on him, grinding on his obvious boner.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

“Mark, please. I want you now.”

Mark makes a quick action of taking off your panties and his sweats and boxers.

Your eyes darted towards the direction of his cock as his erection hits against his stomach as he freed it from its confines. You took his cock in your hands and started giving him a handjob, getting him lubricated in his own precum. After a few strokes, you put him in your mouth. Mark, being caught off guard from your sudden boldness, lets out a string of moans in between your name.

You bob your head up and down, trying your best to make him feel good, as Mark shut his eyes because of your sudden hollowed cheeks, you sneaked a hand up to cup his balls, making his light thrusts in your mouth stutter its movements.

He was close, but he didn’t want this to just be about himself.

“Y/N, stop. I want to cum inside you.”

Mark away from your mouth with a satisfying pop. He looked down to see your face covered in spit and his arousal, his need for you increasing by the second. 

You lay down onto the bed as Mark hovered over you, his eyes boring into yours like a predator to its prey.

Mark opens up your legs, your wet pussy greeting him in delight, he could see how desperate you are for him, the trail of wetness trailing down your beautiful thighs, all just for him. He pushes two fingers into you, the warmth of wetness of your walls greeting him, he could just imagine how good you’ll feel wrapped around his length.

Mark  shakes his head in disbelief as he witnesses  the amount of arousal dripping onto his fingers, he takes both of his fingers out and puts them in his mouth, tasting you.

“Fuck, Mark. That’s so hot.”

“You haven’t even experienced the full course yet, baby.”

You blush at the nickname Mark have given you, to his liking. Mark leans down to give you a kiss as he pushes himself in, your back arches at the sudden pleasure filled intrusion, Mark scatters kisses across your neck, wanting to take your attention away from the ache.

Mark had to hold back his primal side to give you time to adjust to his length, his mind being clouded by how tight and warm you are.

Slowly, the pain turned into pleasure, you rocked your hips to signal Mark to move. Taking it as a sign, Mark started thrusting into you, slow and deep strokes, it had you whimpering his name in his ear, moans and grunts bouncing off the walls of your tiny room.

“Faster, Mark.”

Mark takes your legs to let you wrap them around his torso, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, definitely leaving marks. Mark pulled out most of his cock, leaving only the tip inside you, and slams back into you.

You scream his name as he snaps his hips against yours, his length constantly hitting your sweet spot because of angle he switched to, your walls convulsing around him, making Mark throw his head back at the heightened pleasure.

You were sure the whole house could hear the sounds of Mark’s balls slapping against your ass, the snapping of his hips against yours, and the screams and moans falling freely from your mouth.

“M-mark, I’m close.”

Mark slips a hand in between your bodies to rub circular motions on your clit, urging you to cum quicker.

“Let go for me, baby.”

One last thrust from his lips with a mixture of your name falling from Mark’s pretty lips was enough to push you off the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a bus.

Mark’s thrusts stutters and gets sloppier at the way your orgasm fills up your cavern, warming him till the tip of his toes, a wave of pleasure pushing him to his orgasm.

He rides out both your highs as he milks himself into you. As the both of you come down from your highs, he pulls out of you, his cum dripping out of you.

“What a sight.” Mark confesses.

Mark uses two fingers to push his cum right back into your dripping pussy, and leaves to run you a bath in your bathroom.

Mark carries you into the bathtub as he strokes your head, making you fall asleep in your after sex bliss, with the boy of your dreams by your side.

[jeonjk1998]

Before Us | Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: college!au fuckboy!au bestfriends!au friendswithbenefit!au director!au tattoo!au piercing!au fluff!au smut!au angst!au

Wordcount: 4518 words

Summary: You and Jungkook has been best friends ever since the both of you were just a kid but you never expected to fall in love with him

Notes: I hope you like this fic! I know it’s clichè but I can’t help it haha, anyways I was hoping to write this into a fic someday but since I’m not good at writing, I’ll just leave it here as a draft

Masterlist

You were five years old when you first met him

You remember it was one summer when your parents brought you on a vacation along with their business partners’ family and that is where you met Jeon Jungkook

To be honest, you didn’t like him at all when you first met him, he was so full of himself and annoying sometimes

It’s not surprising that he’s acting like a spoiled child since his family are one of the richest family in the country and he literally can have anything he wants if he just names it

But that wasn’t just it, he and his friends, Jimin and Taehyung would always find a wat to prank you whenever your parents were not around

Despite all of that, you tried your best to make amends with him but it was no use, you ended up hating him even more

You honestly have no idea why would he keep bothering you or why is he always so rude around you

You just assume maybe because you were the only girl around here and he just didn’t want to hang out with you

But what you didn’t know is that Jungkook has the fattest crush on you and he just wanted your attention

Eventually, you got tired and stopped trying and that’s when things starting to get better

You even got along with the boys and surprisingly, your relationship with Jungkook has gotten so much better

You remember you even cried when you thought you didn’t enroll into the same high school as Jungkook

Sometimes your parents would even question if the both of you were in a relationship but you and Jungkook knew very well that it would never happen

You wouldn’t say that you’re not attracted to him, it was impossible to ignore that gorgeous boy and the fact that he has tons of admirer waiting in line for him

You never had a crush on him, you thought you did at one point but it turns out that you only find him attractive

You never told him before but you admired him a lot, especially when it comes to his passion, you respected how much effort he puts in towards the things he loves

You remember it was on his 12 years old birthday when his Grandfather gave him a video camera as his birthday present and ever since then, he would bring it along with him wherever he goes

Jungkook loves filming a lot, he’d even put you in his videos just so he could make it into a documentary, at least that’s what he said

He even attended classes so that he could improve his filming and editing skills

But before you could witness it, the both of you somehow just got drifted away from each other, it’s not like the both of you stopped hanging out with each other, you guys just have a different group of friends to be with

Jungkook became more popular and started to get involved with stuff like parties and sex but you weren’t surprised since he’s always so socially involved and outgoing

Just when you thought that Jungkook couldn’t get any more attractive, he became so much hotter

He started to go to the gym more often and he started to get more tattoos on his body or you just assume it’s because he became more cocky and confident

It wasn’t a lie that Jungkook was undoubtedly hot and gorgeous, even you couldn’t deny that he was hot as fuck

Sometimes you’d even catch yourself staring at his biceps while he was working out, it was no doubt that Jungkook has a great body

Although, you never know why he never dated before since girls would normally just throw themselves to him

He only said he didn’t like commitments and that it’s easier to just have sex and even though he can be a dick sometimes but he was also a genuinely nice guy

It was no different with you, you used to be this cute little girl that Jungkook used to have a crush on but for somewhat reason, puberty hit you like a truck and you got hot

You’d even caught Jungkook checking your ass out sometimes, all thanks to the pilates classes you took with your roommate

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about sleeping with your best friend before, anyone with eyes can see how attractive he is but you never did make a move and neither does he

God, if only you knew how much Jungkook wanted you that way

Ever since he started to get involved with sex, he has been thinking what would it be like to have you under him, screaming his name

It was obvious enough that the both of you were attracted to each other sexually but nothing ever happens

The both of you knew so well that your friendship was way too important to mess around with

You have to admit, it’s hard to hold back when you’re best friend is so damn attractive

Right now, you were trying so hard not to stare at the way Jungkook’s bicep is flexing while he was holding the huge camcorder in his hand

It reminded you back to the day when he told you that he got recruited into one of the most famous entertainment industry and now he’s working here

You were so happy for him and honestly, he deserves it, Jungkook was very talented in the things he does, especially when it comes to video production

As much as you love seeing him with his camcorder, you and Jungkook were supposed to be at Jimin’s party right now but you’ve been waiting for him for almost an hour and he’s still hasn’t done yet

God, your feet were killing you from wearing the Jimmy Choo heels that Jungkook bought for you on your birthday and you really don’t feel like waiting anymore

It didn’t take him long to wrap everything up when he saw how annoyed you get

To be honest, if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t be working for an extra hour

You have been distracting him the whole evening with that tight dress you’re wearing, wrapping around your ass so perfectly

When both of you arrived at Jimin’s place, he was already half-drunk

He then pulls you in for a drink before he grabs you in to play beer pong with him

You were sitting on the table beside the boys while watching them playing when Taehyung suddenly suggested that he wanted to play truth or dare

You never really like the game but since everyone is playing, you have not much of a choice but to say yes

Like always, you choose truth and it was Jimin’s turn to ask you “Who do you most want to sleep with, out of everyone here?”

He smirks at the question while he asks as he knew exactly what your answer will be but he just wanted to tease you

You then saw Jungkook was staring at you and you knew exactly what he was thinking since he already knew who was on your mind

Thanks to all the alcohol in your system, you didn’t hesitate as you blurted his name “Easy, Jungkook”

The boys cheered loudly at your answer and you saw Jungkook was smirking at you and god, you wanted so bad to wipe that cocky smirk off of his face

When you thought things couldn’t get any worst, it was then Jungkook’s turn and of course, he’d choose dare

You then saw Jimin whispered something to Jhope before he could give the dare, making him smile as he then blurted out “Make out with Y/N for 3 minutes”

Your heart instantly races at the thought of it when you saw Jungkook walks over to you

God, just when you thought Jimin couldn’t get anymore devious, here he is smirking at you, waiting to see the both of his friends eating each other out

The boys started wooing and cheering around as soon as Jungkook’s lips crash on yours

He hungrily kisses you as he pulls you closer to him, grabbing your thigh while giving it a tight squeeze which made you moan into the kiss

You then started rubbing yourself onto him when you felt his dick poking on your thigh

You almost forgot that there were still people around, watching the both of you making out until you heard people started murmuring around

You then quickly pull yourself away from him as you can feel how fast your heart is beating and how warm your cheeks were

Jungkook then smirks at you when he saw how tense you look

God, you wanted so bad to wipe off that cocky smirks from his face but why does it turn you on so much

You knew you’d eventually give in and there is no way you could hold it back, at least not after what just happened

You ended up fucking your best friend in the car and boy, it felt so good

You almost lost your shit when he turns you around, thrusting into you ruthlessly

He was stretching you out so nicely, you still couldn’t believe how you manage to stuff that huge cock inside you

Jungkook never thought he’d get to see you like this, to have you under him, screaming his name with his balls deep inside you

God, it’s still hard to believe that he’d get to fuck you like this, his favorite girl

He knows that things aren’t going to be the same after this but right now you’re the only thing he can think of

You thought things would be awkward after that night but it turns out you have nothing to worry about

You and Jungkook decided that it’ll be easier if the both of you become fuckbuddies

Although, it was quite awkward to do this when you weren’t drunk but you decided that you’ll make the first move and that’s when everything started to change

The both of you then became more and more comfortable around each other and started to have more frequent sex than usual

Like now, you were supposed to do some researching in the library but instead, you were hoisted up against the wall by Jungkook as he fucks you mercilessly

“You like that baby? You like my cock deep inside you?” You were trying to hold back your moans by biting on your lips when Jungkook rubbed his thumbs on your clit

You then slide your hand down to his back as you rake onto his broad shoulder, feeling how his muscle-flexing with every thrust he takes

“Jungkook I can’t, I have to go” You whine helplessly when he tries to convince you to get on with him for another round

“C’mon, I promise I’ll make you feel so good” God, it’s like no matter how many times you guys fuck, he just can’t seem to get enough of you

Honestly, the whole friends with benefits thing were starting to worry him

He was afraid that he might fall for you, he even thought of pushing you away, just like how he did when the both of you were still in high school but he can’t afford to lose you anymore

You were the most precious thing to him, you were everything to him

You have always been there for him throughout his toughest time and he couldn’t possibly ruin what the both of you already had

But little did he know, he has already fallen in love with you long before he knew it

Your friends weren’t blind, they knew what was going on between the both of you and they have been teasing you for so long about how you and Jungkook were head over heels for each other but you knew that wasn’t possible

Jungkook hated commitments more than anything and there is no way he would give up all the sex only to be with one girl

Although, you have to admit that you’ve been acting strangely around him ever since you caught your roommate sucking his dick

And seeing all those pretty girls that he works with trying to get Jungkook to dick them down didn't help at all and you really didn’t want to see any more of that

You were so done waiting for him, he was supposed to be at the gala right now since his parents were having a celebration tonight but as usual, his works keep him away so you had no choice but to go with him

God, you can’t look at him anymore and since he was so busy flirting around, you then decided that you’ll leave first

Jungkook was so confused when he saw you were leaving

Something was off with you, he didn’t know why are you so annoyed at him over these past few days and it’s starting to bother him a lot

God, it’s like there’s something wrong with you, you knew you’ve been acting like a brat around him lately but you just can’t help it

Of course, Jungkook wouldn’t let you go just like that, he’s been keeping up with your shit for days and he wanted to know why

“You sure you wanna keep acting like a brat baby girl?” You knew Jungkook was starting to get annoyed by your bratty attitude and you sure gave him a huge headache since you’ve been acting like a bitch

“Just leave me alone” You tried to shove him away but he’s not having any of that

“Only if you stop giving me that attitude” God, you’ve already had so much on your mind and he’s sure is starting to get on your nerves

“Make me” Your heart immediately races when you felt Jungkook lips crash on yours, kissing you roughly while he grabs onto your thigh, carries you up before throwing you on the bed

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard until you stop giving me that fucking attitude” You already know how this was gonna end and it’s not going to look pretty

God, he wasn’t lying, you can’t even remember how many times he made you came tonight

“Mum, don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise” You can’t believe Jungkook would actually pick up the phone while he’s rutting into you

You then saw a smirk curve upon Jungkook’s lips when he saw how hard you’re biting your lip while trying to hold back your moans

Tears well up in your eyes when he speeds up his pace, thrusting into you faster

God, he’s fucking you so good that you kept cumming around his cock

Thank god your parents had already left for the gala, it was just you and Jungkook in the house

You can’t believe how late it already is when the both of you arrived at the gala

You then glared at Jungkook when you caught him smiling like it wasn’t a big deal

But you, on the other hand, was not even though you knew his parents wouldn’t mind at all since they were both very fond of you, they even said that they would love to have you to be their daughter-in-law

You were surprised when you saw your brother, Seokjin was here too since you didn’t expect him to be home anytime soon

God, you missed bim, it’s been such a long time since you last saw him

“Why are you wearing that ridiculous dress?” Was the first thing he said, you then ignore all the snickers from the guy and pouted at him

You knew your dress was quite revealing but truth to be told, your brother was just way too overprotective over you

“Hey hyung” Jungkook went in to hug him when he saw him, so does the rest of the guys

Just when you thought Jungkook would drop the conversation that the both of you had earlier this evening, he then brought it up again

“What’s going on?” You know he would never drop it if you don’t talk to him and you really didn’t want to have that conversation now

“Look, it’s not that big of a deal, I just... I accidentally walk in on you and Jinny when you guys were... “

“You know what? Forget about it, it’s not like you’re not allowed to sleep with anyone you want so...” God, you’ve never sounded so ridiculous before

Smiling at your response, he knew he was damned, he only hoped you didn’t hear how fast his heart is racing

How did he not realized that he was already falling for his best friend

He thought sleeping with other people would get you off his mind, but it didn’t

You were all he could think of when he’s with other girls

Ever since that night, you and Jungkook gotten more intimate with each other

He’d casually hold your hands in public and he’d showers you with lots of kisses and hugs just because he feels like it

Of course, you were aware of your feelings for him but you never wanted to talk to him about it, you were scared that he might just end things with you if you confess

But you were getting tired of it, girls would flirt with him whenever the both of you went out and they would ask if he’s your boyfriend and you hated it when you say no

What’s bothering you, even more, is there was this girl, Ivy, she works with Jungkook and they’ve been spending a lot of time together

She’s super pretty and nice, it’s hard to not like her even if you don’t want to but you had to admit that you didn’t like seeing them together

It’s obvious that Ivy has a crush on Jungkook and he knew it too

Sometimes you’d wonder if Jungkook likes her since he’s been telling you about how cool the girl is and how the both of them hit it off so well with each other

“Do you like her? Ivy?” It took you a lot of courage but you had to ask

“Yeah, she’s cool and fun, it’s hard not to like her I guess” You were trying so hard to fight back your tears when you heard what Jungkook said

“Let’s not do this anymore, us being fuckbuddies” You finally said it, although it hurts but it’s the right thing to do

“What? What are you saying? Is this about Tae? I know both of you have been hanging out a lot these days but you can’t tell me that you like the guy?”

You and Tae have indeed been hanging out a lot these past few days but it’s because he knows about your feelings towards Jungkook

What you didn’t expect is for Jungkook to react this way

“Why are you acting up? I thought you said you like Ivy?” Jungkook was confused, how can you not know that he’s in love with you, he was so obvious

“Are you serious right now? I can’t believe you would think that I like Ivy, I only meant it as a platonic way, for god’s sake, I’m in love with you, how can you not see that?”

You were taken aback by Jungkook’s confessions as you didn’t expect to hear him say that or that he’s in love with you

“Look, I thought you knew about it if I knew you hadn’t known I wouldn’t have-” You didn’t let him finish before you crashes your lips onto his when he grabbed the back of your neck to deepen the kiss

“God, you don’t know just how hard it is to not be in love with you” He murmurs out in the kiss which made you blushed

“Well, you’re not the only one who feels that way” Your heart races when you saw he was gazing at you with all smiles

God, you really do love the guy

Honestly, Jungkook was everything you could ever ask for, he’s been there for you for your whole life as your family, your friend and now your boyfriend

Things couldn’t turn out better than you hoped

Of course, you’ve dated before but nothing ever felt like him

Sure, both of you had your ups and downs but Jungkook was always the one who made it up to you even though it wasn’t his fault

To be honest, you thought it wasn’t possible to be able to love someone so much but he made that happen

“Five years old me could’ve been so proud of myself” It still gets you every time to think that Jungkook had a crush on you when you were four

You were supposed to meet up with your friends today but because of your clumsy boyfriend, you’re late

You can’t believe that he actually thought baking muffins would be fun, he even messes up the sugar and salt and made a mess in the kitchen

You know he just wanted to hang out with you since the both of you haven’t been able to spend much time together lately and he misses you

Even though you really wanted to hang out with your boyfriend longer but your friends would kill you if you bail on them since you’ve already made your promise that you’d come

Jungkook has been busy with work these past few weeks and sometimes you don’t even get to see him for days

You just assume that maybe he has a lot of work to do but it started to bother when he doesn’t even have the time for you anymore

You didn’t want to overthink but you’ve been seeing him with Ivy together a lot

Even though you know that they work together but you just can’t stop thinking about it

You remember there was this one time when you saw Ivy texted him while the both of you were watching a movie at his apartment and he just left, saying that he still has some unfinished work to do

You tried not to let it get into your head but it eventually came to a point where you couldn’t stand it anymore

You need to talk to him

You then decided that it’ll be much easier to go to his apartment and talk to him but you lost it when you saw Ivy there

Tears started to form in your eyes when you saw Jungkook came out from his room, almost half-naked while tugging down his shirt

“No... Baby, please listen to me” You ran away before Jungkook could even get a hold of you

He knew, he knew how much you dislike the girl and yet she’s there, in his apartment

You know you were being unreasonable right now but you just need to get out of there

It broke his heart to have to see you like this

The last thing he ever wanted is to see you cry

God, you weren’t supposed to be here, he was going to ask you to come over tonight so he could celebrate your birthday with you and now you’re not even answering your phone

He has been preparing for this for so long, he was so busy over these past few weeks because he wanted to give you a surprise

He literally spent a whole month making the video for you, it was your birthday gift

It was all the videos that he has been taking of you for all those years ever since he got his first camcorder

You practically sums up his whole life

God, and now he blew it

If only you knew Ivy was just there to help him out with the video

The guys were also there as well, they were at the rooftop helping Jungkook to set up the projector and the screen and some of the stuff that he bought from Ikea

He knew how much you like these kinds of things, you said it’s romantic

He just hoped that your friends would help him to get you over here tonight

You were supposed to be with Jungkook tonight but since you were too stubborn, your friends decided that instead, they’ll bring you out to celebrate your birthday and hopefully you’ll stop sulking

You were distracted the whole night as you couldn’t stop looking at your phone, hoping that you’ll at least get a message from him

Did he finally got tired of you?

The thoughts were slowly eating you up as you felt your tears starting to stream down your cheeks

“Oh god Y/N, please don’t cry” Your friends started to get nervous when they saw you were crying again

They were supposed to help Jungkook to surprise you but now you were asking for him

You weren’t supposed to see him now but you were crying so much and they have no choice but to bring you over, seeing how upset you are

“Baby why are here?” You couldn’t hold back your tears the moment you saw Jungkook and went in for a hug

“Hey, it’s okay” Jungkook then slowly pulls away from you, wiping your tears away “You’re okay” He then places a soft kiss on your forehead while caressing your face

“Come on, there’s something I want to show you” You were confused when Jungkook brought you up to the rooftop as you have no idea what is going on

You were soon in awe when you saw the rooftop was romantically decorated into a movie theatre

“Happy Birthday baby” Fireworks started launching in the sky as soon as Jungkook wishes you while he snakes his veiny arm around your waist

“Come here” Jungkook then held your hand as he led you towards the couch and pulls you down beside him before he turns on the projector

You couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw the video that Jungkook made for you, you thought those videos were far gone but you didn’t expect that Jungkook would keep it

“Why don’t you hate me?” Guilt starting to fill you up as you couldn’t believe how badly you’ve been behaving over these past few weeks only because Jungkook was so busy with your birthday surprise

“Where is this coming from? I thought I was going to get a kiss after this” Jungkook tries to joke with you as he didn’t want to see you looking like that

“You are... I just felt so bad for always lashing it out on you” Jungkook only chuckle at your response “I’m serious!” You whine only to make him smile at how adorable you are

“Baby, I’m your boyfriend, not a stranger, and can I please get a kiss already?” You smile at his response as you then lean in for a kiss

Jungkook then took his chance as he pulls you closer to him before you could run away

Honestly, it has always felt like this with him, you thought maybe, just maybe, you had already fallen for him long before you knew it

[scarletwinterxx]

Coming Home pt. 2

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here. 

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

 PART ONE || TWO || THREE || FOUR || FIVE || FINALE ||  BONUS

“This place looks nice” Mark said for the third time since we got to Jaehyun’s apartment building

We’re waiting for Jaehyun to answer the door, deciding to drop by early since Mark wanted to see Chae Yoon.

“Hyung can you please hurry up” Mark said through the intercom, the door opening with a Jaehyun wearing a bright red polka-dot apron and a smile

“Why do you look like that?” Mark asked the older one

“I’m cooking breakfast for Chae, hey” he said nodding my way, “She’s up already?” I said as we enter his apartment

Apart from the furniture he needs there weren’t a lot of stuff in his place. The only thing that makes this place look likes it’s Jaehyun’s is the electric keyboard in his living room.

It’s his hobby; he likes to play when he’s not that busy or just to relieve some stress. It was one of the few things he took from our then shared apartment

“Wow hyung, your place looks great”

I chuckled at my younger brother who is happily looking around like a puppy exploring a new place, “He’s been saying that since we rode the elevator” I told Jaehyun making him laugh at the younger one

“It’s okay, you want some pancakes?” he asked us, Mark nodding his head in agreement.

At the same time the baby monitor went off, signalling that Chae woke up

“I’ll go get her” Mark said before neither Jaehyun or I say something

“The door on the left” Jaehyun said with a chuckle, my brother already skipping away

“Is he really in college? He looks like a kid” Jaehyun said from where we has standing, infront of the stove flipping some pancakes

“He’s my baby forever, let him be” I say then sat on the stool by the counter

“You baby proofed the place?” I asked, noticing little details around the room. The electric sockets were covered, sharp corners were covered and no stuff was laying around where Chae Yoon could reach it

“Yea, tried as best as I could. The landlord was planning to give me a bigger place with stairs but I told her I have a baby that just learned how to crawl so it’s a big no no”

“She’s starting to stand up too” I said, making Jaehyun smile a bit

“Don’t remind me, I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad she’s growing up too fast” he answered, setting the cooked pancakes on a plate before putting them infront of me. I took them to the table, while he gathers utensils

“Next thing you know she’s telling us she’s going on a date” I teased him, the smile was replaced with a frown

“She’s not allowed to date until she’s 30” I turned to look at him with a raised brow

“So you’re that kind of parent”

“I mean she can date when she can make a decision for herself and make the right judgements, there that sounds better. But you best believe I will be there on her first date” his statement making me bust out a laugh

“If she’s anything like you then you’d be in trouble”

“I’m not that bad, I’ve dated like one girl. And that was you incase you forget” he said, pointing the spatula at me. I rolled my eyes at him, 

“She’ll be breaking hearts left and right”

“I wasn’t like that! what are you talking about?” I can’t help but laugh at his reaction

“Yea right, I can’t even count how many confession you turned down. Do you even remember all those letters they leave in your locker during valentines day” I stated, recalling the old memories

“All those cards and only one says happy birthday”

It was from me, it was no secret that people leave gifts by Jaehyun’s locker every year during valentines. No one just ever left birthday gifts from him. 

“You’re welcome” it was now his turn to roll his eyes

“At least tell me you’ll choose a seat four spaces away from Chae and her date” I said, enjoying the conversation we were having

“Three, and they’re sitting on opposite sides”

“What are you two laughing about?” Mark asked from behind us, making us turn to him. Our daughter already reaching out for Jaehyun

“We were talking about Chae going to her first date” I said taking a seat on the table while Mark sat beside me and Jaehyun across from us and Chae Yoon on her high chair

“Does hyung know her little crush over Jeno?” Mark asked no one in particular, I looked over at Jaehyun who has a confused look on his face.

“What crush? She’s a baby, she doesn’t know what that even is” Jaehyun defensively said making me chuckle

“He’s talking about how whenever Jeno is around, her eyes just follows him, quite literally too. One time she swatted Mark away from Jeno” I told him as I cut up the pancake into smaller pieces to give to my daughter

“Maybe she finds him cute, that adorably eye smile and all” Mark mumbled, the frown on Jaehyun’s face getting more prominent

“Stop saying that, you’re going to give Jae wrinkles if he keeps on frowning like that” I pointed to the guy sitting across from us

“I was joking! Kind of, I mean she does look at him like he’s the most fascinating thing” Mark said inbetween chuckles

“Okay enough talks of that, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there” Jaehyun mumbled, pushing a pancake in Mark’s direction to shut him up.

After hanging out at Jaehyun’s place for a couple more hours, Mark needed to go back to university. His friends on their way to pick him up, they all decided to go home for the weekend and carpool together since they’re roommates anyways.

“Nice place hyung, definitely will hang out when I get back” Mark said as Jaehyun walk us out. Chae Yoon in her stroller hugging the bear given by her dad when she was born

“Sure, give me a call when you visit. You already know, call me when you need anything” he said directing the second half of his statement to me.

“Will do, come on you still need to pack” I told Mark, saying my goodbye to Jaehyun.

This has been the set up we’ve been doing for the past five months, Chae Yoon spends the weekends with him when he doesn’t have any work to do. He either drive over to pick her up or I go over to take her.

It’s been a good system for us. If we’re being honest, we did it for the both of us.

It was hard trying to make something work when we both knew we were already on the edge. Jaehyun wasn’t the type to give up, but his actions told me otherwise. That’s how I knew we had to call it off.

I can’t be the selfish one and ask him to stay when he didn’t want to. I knew it was nothing against being a father to Chae Yoon but entirely about being my fiancé. So I made the decision to break it off. It did break my heart, I still have a hard time reminding myself the once promised future of us being together is not there anymore.

But my daughter comes first, above anything. I didn’t have a doubt that he’s trying to be the best father to our daughter, and he is. There is no one in this world that loves her the way Jaehyun does.

The moment she was born in this world he was a goner. The way he cried and said a silent thank you to me when they laid tiny Chae Yoon in his arms, I knew she would have someone to love her for the rest of her life.

I also realized I love Jaehyun too much to tie him down like that, it was always a push and pull with him. Back in our high school years, he was the popular but down to Earth kid. He knew people talked about him, he also knew almost no one was immune to his charms. I took pride in the way his eyes light up when he see me in the crowd or the way he always shoots a salute my way before his game starts or the way he can’t let go of me after a very long tiring day because he needed cuddles or the way he whispered I love you in my ear in the middle of a party just because he felt like saying it.

I’ve seen Jaehyun in lights that no one ever has, I was with him through the ups and downs. I always tried to catch up with him, I just realized now that I probably never will. I also realized how I never ask why he once never asked me if I was keeping up or was I okay with the steps he was hurriedly taking.

I’m not mad.

Deep in my mind I’ve always known I loved him more that he loved me.  

After what felt like the longest weekend ever, I was back at the office. Buried in piles of paper work that needed approval and signatures.

“Hey Y/N, the digital artist from Japan is here. You have a meeting with him?” my co-worker, Wendy said. I looked up from the drafts I was currently reading

 “Oh he’s here? I thought the design department said they will have an on-boarding meeting with him first?”

“They said they’ll do it after you” she shrugged then passed me the folder

“Okay, I’ll be there give me a minute”

I stood up from my chair and made my way to the meeting room Wendy told me where the new hire was waiting, “Hi, sorry for the wait. I wasn’t expecting you” I told him when I enter the room.

He immediately stood up shaking his head, “It’s fine, I wasn’t waiting long”

“Right well take a seat, the head of our design department recommend you himself so he must trust your work. We’re glad you could make it here”

“Yes, well I actually live here I just visited my hometown for a while. I’m Nakamoto Yuta by the way” he said then extended his hand out which I gladly shook

“Lee Y/N, Taeyong has told me a lot about your work. We’re very happy to have you in our team”

After the meeting, I was back in my desk tied down to a bunch of paperwork.

I do love my job, I have enough time to focus on my daughter and also grow my career. I was lucky to be given this chance and I wasn’t going to let it pass.

After a long a couple of weeks of the same routine: go to work, go home to Chae, take Chae to her dad.

One weekend Jaehyun called that he was on his way up to the apartment, taking Chae back to me after his weekend with her.

“Hey Y/N” He greeted me with a smile when I opened the door,

“Hi”

“and hello to you beautiful girl, how was your weekend?” I said to the excited little lady who was reaching out for me

“She was trying to walk all over the place. I bolted every furniture I had in my apartment just to be safe” Jaehyun answered as he put her stuff in the living room with me following behind him

“Oh right I still need to do that”

“Do you need help? I can come over some time next next week maybe”

“Next next week?” I asked

“I have a business trip to Japan this Friday until Tuesday next week. Too bad I can’t be with her next weekend” he explained, I nodded along completely understanding his work schedule

“By the way is my box of documents still here, I’ve been meaning to get it” he asked, “It’s probably in the office, I haven’t really touched anything there so things are the way you left it” just as I say it an emotion crossed his face, it went quickly as it came. I almost wouldn’t notice if I wasn’t looking at him

“Thanks, can I?” he asked gesturing to the office at the end of the hall “you lived here too, go” I chuckled. He shot me a quick smile before walking in the direction of his old home office.

I was playing with Chae Yoon when I hear Jaehyun call out my name

“What is it? You didn’t find it?” I asked him when he walked back to the living room

“I did, I was just going to say we have this company party tomorrow. I know it’s very short notice and it’s a Monday but if it’s okay with you, will you come with me?” he asked, eyes staring straight into mine

“Me?” I asked back, I sounded stupid I know but I was just confused why he wanted me to come with him

“Yes, you” he said with a small smile on, a dimple showing slightly. I almost agreed then and there.

“Why?” I asked sceptically

“Well who else would I ask? I mean you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I absolutely understand. And I know you can’t leave Chae-“

“I’ll come”

Even I was surprised by my answer, he looked like he was too.

“Okay, that’s great. I’ll come pick you up at six?”

“Sure”

We both didn’t know where the conversation was going, but suddenly Jaehyun looked behind me. I thought something bad happened but when I turned Chae Yoon was standing up by herself, about to take her very first steps

“Oh my god, Jae” I whispered, careful not to scare her

“That’s it baby girl, want to walk here?” Jaehyun calmly told our daughter, kneeling beside me so he could look at her eye to eye

A determined look was etched on Chae Yoon’s face, she put up one foot infront of the other. Still a bit wobbly

“Careful there” I mumbled, feeling a bit anxious. Jaehyun must have sensed it because he shot me an assuring smile before looking at our daughter again

“She’s fine, she can do it. Right, baby?” she squealed then suddenly took many steps straight to where Jaehyun was. She stumbled a bit but Jae had his arms waiting for her ready to catch her if she falls.

The little laughter’s she was letting out was worth everything.  

“You did it!” I told her, giving her cheek a little squish. The proudest look on my face, I didn’t notice Jaehyun was just staring at me

When our eyes met, a small smile was on his lips

“Thank you” he whispered.

I didn’t need an explanation, I already knew what he was saying thank you for.

It was for this little girl who had become the center of both our universe the moment we knew of her existence. The late night drives to the convenient stores when I was craving something, the early morning sickness and terrible nausea, the sudden outburst of tears I had because of hormones, the back pains, the tears, all of that was worth it.

We had a silent agreement, even after all of the things we went through we would gladly do it again if it means we’ll end up in this moment right here.

Chae Yoon was, is and forever will be worth all of it. 

 “Oooh how about this dress?” Wendy asked while holding out a yellow flowy dress

“It’s a company dinner, not a picnic. Cute dress though” I said then continued to browse through my closet

“I know, can I borrow this?” chuckling at her question I looked around the row of clothes in front of me

“Maybe I should just cancel, I don’t have anything to wear”

“You’re standing in the middle of your walk-in closet, what are you talking about?”

Okay maybe I was just looking for an excuse not to come. After thinking about it all night, it just dawned on me now that this will be the first event Jae and I will be attending since we broke up.

I tried so hard to get some sleep but my mind wouldn’t shut up.

Also Chae Yoon decided to wake up at 5am, I didn’t have the time to put her back to sleep before I needed to go to the office.

And now I’m here, I asked Wendy for some help to pick out my clothes and look after Chae Yoon while I get ready

“Chae Yoon-ah, look at your mommy getting all nervous about her date with your dad” she told the baby playing with her blocks on the carpeted floor

“It’s not a date”

“He asked you to be his date, Y/N” she deadpanned, I was trying to think of an excuse but she had be backed up on a corner with her statement

“Not to sound rude, but why did he ask you?”

“I asked him the same thing” I mumbled, picking out a long fitted dress with straps and a slit on the leg

“How about this one?” I asked holding out the dress to show her

“Yes that one, perfect. So back to my question”

I sighed, putting the dress on the lounge chair, picking out shoes to match with the dress

“He didn’t say why, he just said why not”

“That’s a lame answer” she muttered, making faces at Chae Yoon. The little one giggled, holding her hands to her face.

“It’s just a friendly invitation, he didn’t have anyone to ask that’s probably why”

“Are you two sure you’re done?”

Her question made me stop on my spot, for a moment I wasn’t sure.

“Of course. We’ve talked about it. He moved out”

“That’s not what I mean though, yes he moved out and yes you literally called the engagement off so why are you two acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Are you serious? Like you two are still together, Y/N. The getting him dinner, driving you home, asking you to be his date”

“He’s Chae’s father. I can’t just completely erase him from my life, whether we mean it or not we’ll always be in each other’s life so we could be there for her”

“I know that, and you two are doing such a great job at being her parents. But it’s not your job to care for him anymore”

“I can’t just stop caring about him”

“You can’t but you don’t have to give so much to him when you don’t have to anymore. I love you I really do, but don’t you think it’s about time to live a life that didn’t revolve around him?”

I knew she had a point, what was the use of being broken up when we still do things like this. In my mind I keep repeating that I’m doing this as a friend.

But I don’t really know how to be just his friend.

“I don’t mean to pry in your business, I just want you to be happy and guard your heart”

I shot her a grateful smile, fully understanding that she meant well.

Her words where ringing in my head for the rest of the night, even after Wendy bid goodbye after helping me get ready.

I was just reading a book to Chae when the door bell rang, “Looks like you have a visitor, little lady” I mumbled, putting her down. She immediately stood up and tried to walk to the door on her own. Of course I was close behind her, ready to catch her just in case. 

I opened the door, I swear I doesn’t matter how long I’ve known Jaehyun because he can still steal my breath away. 

He looked good, wearing an all black suit with a white dress shirt. His hair did differently from its everyday style. And of course his most attractive accessory couldn’t be forgotten, his smile. 

“Hey” he said when I opened the door, he looked down at the baby who is now holding onto his leg

“Hey you, are causing trouble running around like that?” he playfully asked Chae then took her in his arms peppering kisses all over her face.

“I think I have to put cushions all over the house at this point, come in” I told him, holding the door open for him

“I have a few more of those covers you can put on corners of table and stuff like that, I’ll bring it over when I get back”

“Thanks, I’ll just get her bag so we can leave” I was leaving her to my neighbor while we go to the party. I packed an over night bag just in case I stay out too late, and in case of any emergency

We walked over the apartment across from mine, waiting for Unnie to open the door

“Is that Chae Yoonie?” she called out from the other side of the door before opening it

“Hi- Oh hi Jaehyun, I haven’t seen you in a while” she said when she saw it was Jaehyun holding Chae Yoon

“Nice to see you too, Noona. You sure you can handle her, she can walk now” he jokingly said

“I heard! I’m so excited to see her run around, and you already know I love having her around. Don’t worry about it, go enjoy your night” She said with a smile on

“Here, all of her stuff is in there. Can’t forget about her favorite bear” I said while handing over her the bag and Chae’s favorite stuffed toy

“You’ll be good for Unnie, right Chae? I’ll see you later” I told my daughter giving her a quick kiss. Jaehyun did the same before passing her to Unnie. 

“You two have fun, okay? Bye” we bid goodbye then made our way to the elevator

We didn’t say much, a comfortable silence while we make our way to his car. 

“Thanks by the way, for coming tonight” he said when we started to exit the parking area and out into the streets

“No problem” I answered,a small smile on my face. 

“You look great, by the way” I just chuckled at his statement, already seeing the redness starting to show on his ears. One thing he can never hide. 

“Thank you, I see you decided to go with the bangs up hairstyle”

“The what?”

“You know, that hairstyle. The I’m the boss here kind of hairstyle” I said pointing at his styled hair, he was just smiling at me. probably finding my statement weird, 

“Oh yea? Do I look cute?” he asked making me roll my eyes

“You’re a dork” i muttered, making him laugh out loud

“I’ll take that as a yes” he said then we were back to the comfortable silence. 

In that moment I realized just what Wendy meant when she asked me are we really done being together

This night so far is not helping me clarify the blurred questions I’ve been thinking about. 

I just knew I was in it for a long night. 

[secretshinigami]

routine and soft eyes

Author: @hazblogs For: @beyondplusultra Pairings/Characters: nearmellomatt, mention of lawlight Rating/Warnings: T, mentions of Mello’s scar  Prompt: Wammy House kids sleepover (A, B, L can be included, can be AU) Author’s notes: I had so much fun with this !!! soft bois…. thank you to anyone who reads it !!

Mello is positively fuming. Someone (who shall not be named, though if you want to know it starts with “N” and ends with “-ate River”) just got on top of Forensic Science and Investigative Skills and History of Crime and the Justice System. Those are Mello’s topics. They’re the best at these and they always have been (in the two years they’ve studied here. But that’s long enough, right ?), so the fact that Mister Nobody just came in and stole their turf… That’s infuriating. To top it all off, the dean did them dirty and assigned someone to the second bed in their room, knowing full well that they need that second bed for Matt. This week is just a pile of flaming shit.

As they swing the door open they are greeted by the beeping sounds usually coming from Matt’s bed, a comforting electronic melody. Matt doesn’t even turn around to raise his middle finger to protest against how loud Mello is, but that’s also common practice around here, so no worries. 

“Heard you got your ass beat,” Matt says a while later, Mello’s hand carding through his strawberry-green hair. “By the newbie no less. How’re you taking it ?”

“Matt, my hand is dangerously close to your eyes and you need those to play on that stupid console. Better not risk it.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me,” Matt grumbles, and the certainty with which he speaks makes their heart pulse just a little faster. Mello is hopelessly in love, aren’t they ?

The rest of the evening is quiet save for that same musical background, a welcome white noise as Mello finishes their essay for Writing Comedy. The teacher seems to have some trouble with their rather macabre humour so they try to tone it down for once - rather unsuccessfully.

“Also heard you’ll have a roommate,” Matt continues a few hours later as they prepare for bed - gotta put some moisturiser on that scar like a damsel doing her skincare routine, the doctor said, “or you’ll experience how actually painful it can be”. Talk about being threatening…

“I heard. I can kick them out.” Mello would do it. Without remorse, even.

“I can sleep in your bed too,” Matt offers. “But only if you promise not to kick me out from under the covers every single night.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off, and secondly, why the hell would I want someone else to room with me ? You’re already here. You’ve always been here.”

“And I always will be, Mels. Just… I think it’s time you get out of your shell a little bit, you know ? You can’t keep pretending that talking to me twice every day and ignoring Linda a couple times a week is enough friendly interaction for the little pea inside your coconut.” Mello turns away from the mirror, moisturiser in hand, and sends a glare to Matt who sighs and raises his hands in defeat. “Don’t say I didn’t try ! Think about it, okay, Mello ?”

They do think about it. The whole night. They don’t sleep - it’s not because Matt snores but that’s the excuse they’ll use. Ever since the accident and the scar, people have usually been too impressed - or scared - by them to even consider starting a casual conversation. Matt was there even before, and he probably always will be, Linda is a weirdo who wants to draw them with a ponytail, and… Well, that’s it. Mello lives for schoolwork, to be the best and hope to right some of the wrongs in this world.

“Yo, Mihael,” the dean says when he sees them in front of his office the following morning. Lawliet is a TA at their university, still haunting the dorms. He has a creepy smile under his stupid raccoon eyes and he keeps using Mello’s birthname, like it makes any more sense to call them with that than to call them “xXx_sexy_blondie_xXx”, or however you pronounce that out loud.

“Lawliet. I saw you assigned me a roommate.”

“I did,” he smiles still, like there’s a joke Mello doesn’t get.

“Why ?” Mello would actually like to know - Lawliet never does anything at random.

“You’ll see when he arrives later today,” is the cryptic answer, and Mello sneers at their stupid fucking dean as they leave for their 8am lecture.

Because yes, multiple things are out to get their skin - though they won’t be deterred.

The day goes by in a flash, Screenwriting and Poetry being two of their most interesting classes, and by the time they’ve finished their Crime Prevision and Prevention homework at the library, the sun is well on its way down. Mello walks slowly to the dorms, enjoying the warm air - it’s still only September and winter hasn’t come yet. The music blasting from their headphones is a perfect background to the chill atmosphere, a few bird silhouettes dark against the wonderfully peach clouds. In a few minutes they’ll kiss Matt and they’ll eat a bite, and they’ll sleep knowing they’re safe now.

When they arrive in front of their room, a few cardboard boxes occupy the entrance. Shit fuck hell, they’d forgotten the roommate arrived today. All they can see from where they’re blocked from entering is a white blob of hair on top of baggy clothes, perched on the desk and looking at whatever Matt is playing.

“Uh, I’m supposed to be able to enter my own room,” Mello kind of yells. Only kind of. “Would you please not be a giant stupid bother before I even get your name ?”

“Sorry,” the snowball says, not looking sorry at all. “I’m Nate River.”

“But you can call him Near ! He plays retro games, which isn’t… let’s say it’s not my strong point, but I’m sure it’ll go well, we’re three whole weirdos with weirdo nicknames !”

Mello blinks. Near is still here. They blink again. Near is still here, looking a little like a frog with his lopsided smile, a hand playing with one of his curls. Mello blinks a third time and doesn’t expect Near to have packed his things and go, but that was a close call.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” they mutter. “Lawliet is gonna get killed.”

“You actually know enough about criminology to not be caught, so go you.” Near is smirking. Mello wants to cry. “But I would advise against it, because he’s dating that twink Light Yagami, the alumni who came last week to give the presentation about the War on Drugs and its consequences. He’s a police lieutenant now.”

“Called it !” Matt raises a fist in victory, taking five years from Mello’s lifespan. “Anyway, now that you’re here, please do help us with the last boxes. We’ve been setting up Near’s compy and it’s revoltingly difficult.”

“I will not- how can you ask me to- I’m gonna commit arson and this time I promise I’ll succeed !”

“Dramatic bitch,” Matt says jovially. “Just come in and drop your stuff, apparently someone from the ADA thing comes tomorrow to make sure the room is accessible with a crutch and to help Near settle in.”

Mello just now notices that Near isn’t fully standing up - he’s propped on the desk, a mechanical knee peeking through the bottom of his shorts. This changes nothing - though Mello feels the both grim and hopeful sense of community that disabled people get when they meet. Their ear still works wonky and their eye ? Not the sharpest either. Without talking about all the skin damage, the phantom pain, the- hell no, they won’t get into “reflective mode” without having eaten dinner first.

Reluctantly, Mello spends the rest of the evening avoiding Near as Matt and them help him settle in, surprised by the small amount of belongings he actually has - most of the boxes he brought are board games and hundreds of little kapla sticks. Is Near planning to recreate the Golden Bridge ? He looks like a nerd, maybe it’ll be the Death Star.

Routines are a persistent thing, and before they know it, Near has managed to get a small space - small, they insist - in Mello’s well-oiled machinery. He eats breakfast with Matt, a meal that Mello forgoes entirely, and he goes on unfortunate walks to his PT appointments, because he’s out of money from whatever government organism gives benefits to disabled people and can’t afford a cab. Mello thinks they should get into it a little more, maybe call their case worker, because ramen tastes worse and worse when you have it for every meal of the week. And then Near and Matt start talking about something or another, especially topics that annoy Mello, or Near gets a little too close to them while they both work on their assignments at their desk, his elbow barely brushing Mello’s side. It makes them shiver, but they will ignore that, thank you very much.

Another routine - bedtime - has gotten a little different. One single bed is enough for “one person and a half”, according to Matt, so the obvious solution to them being three in a two single beds room is to push the beds together.

“And now you have a perfect three people beddery !” Matt triumphantly declared. “Mello, you sleep in the middle.”

“Why am I in the middle ?” they protested. “It’s the least comfortable !”

“Oh well, we can take turns,” Near had snarked, knowing full well that the first one of them to sleep in the middle would have to accept defeat.

Mello does end up in the middle, Matt cuddled against their left side where the burn is, and Near an ever-closer presence against their right arm. It’s not as uncomfortable as they expected. Near doesn’t snore and he smells like minty toothpaste, a strangely comforting scent that lulls Mello to sleep way more easily than the five thousand melatonin pills they take before going to bed.

Oh well, maybe Lawliet can live a little longer. His boyfriend - Matt saw them kissing through the peephole, it’s official now - won’t have any (more) reasons to put Mello behind bars.

Near gets on top of International Law and keeps wearing strangely baggy clothes everywhere - or well, everywhere but in the dorms. Mello has time to get used to that mechanical knee, even asking a few questions about phantom pains on the days Matt is away and the itching gets unmanageable. Near is quiet like snow but they’re nothing alike in warmth, grey eyes like molten metal setting on Mello’s face and crinkling in a smile.

And it works wonders. One time they get a bad mark (for their standards) and they even study with Near for extra credit, a presentation about the death penalty that lasts about three quarters of the two hours class. The teacher gives them both full marks and Matt celebrates by crushing them both against his chest, the smell of motor oil and mint so comforting that Mello closes his eyes, just for a little while.

It’s winter before they have time to think about it, and finals go by in a blur of “no sleep, no food, no distractions”. They even manage to end up at the nurse’s office when they faint during the Criminology Theory exam, forced to drink sugar water until the world stops exploding in a million tiny stars when they move their head.

Mello thinks that surviving their last winter exam session ever - they should be able to find a job with a double Master’s degree in Criminology and Creative writing, right ? - deserves a celebratory nap and they sprawl on the bed as soon as they’re back from the last stupid oral presentation they have to do about stupid Foundations of Criminal Justice. Near is not in the room - which is weird, because he finished five minutes and thirty six seconds before them - and Matt is away for the day to try and get his internship at the garage, so they have the full three-person bed, and they fully intend to enjoy the luxury.

They enjoy it so much that they fall asleep, only noticing that time has passed because before they blinked, it was day, and it is now very much nighttime. Light giggles fill the room along with the muted light from Near’s bedside lamp, and Mello takes the time to relish in the quiet atmosphere. Hushed conversation rises from near the desk, giggles and the smell of hot chocolate both making Mello sit up at last.

“Lookit you ! Sleeping beauty arises. Though I haven’t kissed you yet,” Matt smiles, and he climbs on the bed to press his lips against Mello’s. “Love you,” he whispers as he pulls away and goes back to slump on Near’s shoulder.

At first, Near felt like an intruder each time Matt kissed them, but he’s become so embedded in their life that Mello doesn’t feel any awkwardness anymore - to the point where not including him has become the cause of their inner turmoil.

Because yeah, uh, there’s that. Near in a tank top and booty shorts, prosthetic being painted on by a very enthusiastic Matt, has become the new image they conjure up each time the need to strangle someone arises. And poof, instant peace. Discreet touches, Near sleeping fully cuddled against their right side now, Matt nosing through Near’s hair just after he’s washed it because his strawberry shampoo smells divine, Mello even going as far as ruffling Near’s hair without warning, just to see his little nose scrunch up… All that has become routine too, and suddenly the change is too big to go by unmentioned. 

They’ve managed to hold on to their feelings until then but as Matt starts talking again, Near’s smile is a little too tight - though his eyes sparkle, it’s like… something’s missing. 

“Emergency mee-ee-ting,” they yawn, the skin around their left eye crinkling up painfully. Near notices and doesn’t even ask before grabbing the petroleum jelly tube and throwing it rather inaccurately at their face. See, that’s what they were talking about, Near has just become… there, in the way Matt is there even when he’s asleep in another part of the universe where Mello can only hope to ever go to. “We gotta talk shit out.”

“Are you over your gay crisis yet ?” Matt asks, eyes calm and open, sipping hot chocolate with noisy slurps that Mello doesn’t bother mentioning anymore. His green hair looks more and more red as time passes, which is a strange feat of hair dye conspiracy. “Can we go back to playing ?”

“I haven’t even talked !” Mello protests. “I just really think it’s necessary to mention that…”

They don’t know how to continue that sentence. Near is looking at them with something strangely akin to hope, and Matt still has that infuriating openness about him like he just knows Mello so well he doesn’t need to be told what they feel. 

Near doesn’t, though, and he matters enough to Mello now for them to want to include him in the little bubble as well.

“I just think it’d be cool if we shared the secret chocolate stash with Near,” is what comes out of their mouth.

Well done caporal, please die of shame now.

“Mels, wow, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said !” Matt’s voice drips with amusement - devoid of any mean spirit, they should add, because Matt is the one thing Mello knows is good in this world. And well, maybe there’s a second one they’ve stumbled on, and they want Near to know that he means a lot to them too.

“I mean it !” Mello whines. “He’s one of us now. I think we can share.”

“Mello. Please realise that I’ve been flirting with you this entire time,” comes Near’s deadpan answer. “The time I told you I wanted to braid your hair ? The time I made you sleep and finished the presentation alone because you’d gotten the flu and I hate being sneezed on ? The fact that Matt literally sits in my lap half the time, and only half because the other is spent on your lap ?”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off with me getting the flu.”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Near looks stubborn, and it’s a good look on him.

When did Mello start to think Near looks good ? “I, uh. I may be slightly romantically obtuse. Has Matt told you the time when-”

“-he kissed you and you thought he wanted to practice smooches for his secret best friend, because of course you wouldn’t be his best friend ?”

Utterly mortified, Mello can feel their cheeks become bright red. “Well, uh. Enough mushiness for tonight. Just pass me the chocolate, Matt, I’m starving.”

Matt giggles and throws a Kinder Egg at their face. Near munches on the leftover shell while Mello assembles the toy, and it’s peaceful - and happy, too, so when Mello raises a hand to their scar they smile still, in spite of their involuntary shiver.

[falseroar]

Dog Days Part 23: Almost Too Easy

((Y/N catches up with Wilford before they have a meeting with the studio’s manager.

This and the next part are both going to be on the longer side. I also feel like I should give a head’s up that there is some gaslighting happening the later conversation. Just one character being all around not okay, but that’s pretty normal for him.

And here are links to yesterday’s part and to the series masterlist if you need them.))

You waited until the studio doors closed behind the others, and then a little longer to give yourself time to breathe, to prepare yourself for what might happen next. And still, you had no idea what to say to the man who was still whistling to himself, as though waiting to be invited back into your earlier conversation.

“Colonel,” you said, and the whistling stopped.

Wilford looked over at you and beamed. “Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in years! I’ve gone through so many over the years, you know, can hardly keep track of them all…What did you say your name was, again?”

“What?” you stared at him, sure that he must be joking. But as the silence went on too long, you asked, “You don’t…you don’t remember me?”

Wilford approached and leaned on the back of the chair he had been sitting in a minute ago as he studied you. “Of course! You told me your name earlier, it was…Dave, right?”

“Dave?” you repeated.

“Dave!” Wilford plopped down in the chair and leaned toward you again, his eyes bright. “How have you been? How’s the wife and kids? See, couldn’t be sure, you don’t look like a Dave, but something about your face just reminded me of that name, you know?”

“Colonel, I’m not Dave,” you said. “You told me…you told me how Dave died, remember? Do you remember, we were sitting outside, and you—you showed me your arm?”

Wilford glanced down at his arm and rolled back his shirt sleeve to reveal the bite mark, still as livid as the first time he showed it to you, when he told you how the ambush on his unit ended with him bitten and his comrade past any hope of saving.

“Y-yeah, I remember…” Wilford said softly, running his fingers over the scars. “Good man, that Dave.”

He blinked hard for a moment before he looked back up at you, and for the first time, recognition seemed to spread across his face. “Y/N! Why, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been, what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been trapped in a mirror for decades.”

“Well, that’s still no excuse not to visit,” Wilford scolded, shaking a finger at you. “You’re as bad as that hunter, haven’t seen that guy since the party. Wonder what he’s been doing.”

“I think he’s been looking for you,” you said, thinking now might not be the time to bring up why. “Is there anyone else from the party that you have seen? Like…”

“I think that butler and the chef opened up a restaurant together,” Wilford said, scratching his chin. “Good place, fun crowd, you should go there sometime.”

“Yeah, I’ve been.” You hesitated, knowing who you really wanted to ask about, but before you got a chance, Wilford was practically in your face, grinning knowingly.

“Go there with someone else?” he asked. “Like on a date?”

“No. I was stuck as a wolf at the time, and couldn’t change back no matter how hard I tried.”

Wilford nodded, as though this was a common problem. “It’s hard to get back into the dating scene after a while. Just give it time, find someone special, you’ll work it out. And don’t marry just because they have a funny name, believe me, it does not last.”

“You got married? What about Celine?” you asked, realizing a fraction of a second too late what you had just said.

But instead of becoming upset, Wilford’s eyes went soft and he said, almost dreamily, “Oh, Celine. My heart still beats for her to this day, or as much as it beats for anything. But if she saw me, she’d probably carve mine out.”

You started to ask why he thought that, only for the memory of that face on the other side of the glass to come to mind, the look of utter disgust on his face before he walked away. So completely different than the man you thought you knew.

You blinked rapidly and focused on your breath, until you felt calm enough to take another shot at getting something close to an answer out of Wilford.

“At the restaurant, I was with someone else,” you said, trying to ignore the knowing smile on his face. “A man who called himself the Host.”

“Like the game show host?” Wilford asked. “Bim’s a bit hard not to recognize, but I can bring him back if you need another go at it—”

“No, not Bim. He wore bandages around his eyes, and walked with a staff. And he had a voice, that could get other people to do what he wanted. Does that sound familiar to you at all?”

There had to be some kind of connection here. At the park, where the Host had been attacked, you smelled what you now recognized was that magitek thing, Google, and his scent had led you to the disco, to Abe, to Wilford.

But Wilford shrugged and said, “Doesn’t ring a bell. Course, it all gets jumbled up, mixed together these days. That Google guy always says I’d wander off on my own if he wasn’t there to keep an eye on me, like I don’t do that every other day. You have to, around here, if you ever want to actually have some fun. Why, if it were up to him, I’d never leave the studio at all!”

“…Why are you here, Wilford?” It occurred to you that Bim had acted as though he had been asked to find somewhere to put Wilford, as though someone had brought him into the studio and only then realized they needed something for him to actually do. You remembered the flyer, the note written on the back of it. “Who asked you to come here?”

He winked at you and said, “Same one who invited you, I’m guessing. You are a VIP, after all.”

Your mind immediately went to the scent that took you from the park to that flyer, to Google. He worked for the studio, but who did he answer to, really? The Jim twins and Bim both invoked the studio’s policies and rules when talking to him—if he really was just a mixture of magic and technology, then it made sense that he would be bound to some kind of rule system, but he still needed someone to give him orders.

“Oh, someone’s looking thinky,” Wilford said. “And that’s no good for anybody. You’ve gotta trust those instincts of yours, Y/N!”

“If I did that, I wouldn’t even be here right now,” you muttered. “Col—Wilford, doesn’t something feel off about this place to you?”

“Mmm…no?” Wilford shrugged and jumped out of his chair, as though sitting still for any length of time was completely beyond him. He paced around a bit before adding over his shoulder, “And is that what your instincts are really saying? To turn tail and run?”

You started to answer, only to hesitate at the last second. Part of you was wishing that you had taken Chase up on his offer to just leave, to let this lie and walk away, but you knew you couldn’t do that. Not when you had found the Colonel again, for the same reason you couldn’t bring yourself to just let Abe leave without trying to reach out to him, even though you had every reason not to trust him. Because you could feel the edge of something bigger here, of answers to questions you had been left alone with for far too long.

“My instinct’s saying someone here knows more than they should, about what happened to us,” you answered, but when you stood up you realized that Wilford wasn’t listening to you anymore.

His gaze was distant, fixed on nothing in particular that you could see.

“Colonel?” you asked, and when he didn’t respond you prodded his arm carefully. “Wilford? Is something wrong?”

He jumped, putting several feet in between the two of you as he brushed at his forehead and said, “Yes? No, just realized that Bim might be on to something with that lunchtime thing. Positively starving, you?”

Before you could answer, he was already moving toward the studio doors at a fast clip that you could barely keep up with when it occurred to you to try and follow him, and he said, “I have a room here, you know? My name on a star and everything, they bring me my meals on the regular there, I bet it’s already waiting.”

“Wilford—” The name still felt strange on your lips as you followed him out into the hallway, where he paused only briefly before lurching off again. “Your…your meals, they aren’t—You still eat a lot of meat, right?”

“Of course! I love me my meat, you won’t see me turning vegetarian anytime soon,” Wilford said, pausing at a door that really did have a star and the name “Wilford Warfstache” on it to give you a wink. “Sorry, I just get a little antsy if it’s been a while. You know how it is.”

“You’re still craving meat,” you said, more of an observation than a question when you could already smell what was waiting for him on the other side of the door. “Has it—has your condition been a problem? I mean, does it seem to have gotten better at all, or…?”

Wilford opened his door and positively beamed at the stack of slabs of meat piled up on a plate, all of which could barely qualify as medium rare. Someone had bothered with trying to season it, at least, but the smell underneath the spices still made your stomach turn.

“I feel like that’s something I would remember…” Wilford mused, the same man who had mistaken you for his dead comrade just minutes ago. You remembered how he told you his hunting kept him well stocked enough to curb the cravings, but you wondered how he had kept that up before ending up here. As your roommates had discovered while trying to feed a wolf, meat was expensive when you weren’t out getting it yourself. That the kitchen staff here were ready to send up this kind of meal on the regular suggested that someone else here knew about Wilford’s condition. He shrugged and asked, “Are you hungry? I’m always willing to share, and the kitchen staff here can send up more—”

“No,” you said quickly, taking a step back from the dressing room. It was one thing to eat that much meat as a wolf, but even then uncooked meat did some bad things to your imagination. “No, I’m…I’m good. Thanks.”

“They make some excellent desserts,” Wilford offered, but his further mentions of cakes and pies while you could still smell the fresh meat just made your nausea worse. “Okay, your loss. Still, don’t be a stranger! I don’t want to wait however long it’s been to see you again, do you hear me?”

“…I’ll try,” you said, and that seemed to be answer enough as he smiled at you before closing the dressing room door behind him. You stood alone in the hallway for a moment, feeling a strange sense of sadness as you looked at the star on the door.

Celine had promised him, once, to help find a cure for the zombie bite that had infected him. That he had been able to stay in control of himself this long was amazing, but you knew from your own condition that just being able to control something didn’t mean that it wasn’t still a problem. It just meant living with the fear of losing that control.

You tried to shake it off, telling yourself those kinds of thoughts right now weren’t exactly helping you or Wilford. Walking back to the elevator, you paused and stared at the up and down arrows, and the directory sign next to the buttons. Chase had said the Jim twins were taking him and Jameson to Studio 5, but you still hesitated to hit the button that would call the elevator. Right now, you found yourself alone and unsupervised in the studio; not a chance you could hope to have very often, or if you rejoined the others.

Inside the elevator, you studied the buttons before selecting the unlit human resources button, just to see where it would take you. Plus, it was near the top where you suspected more of the higher-up offices would be, and someone there might be able to point you in the right direction. Google had said he was going to report to a producer, so maybe it was one of them who hired Wilford. And, if nothing else, being a werewolf did leave you with a talent for eavesdropping from far enough away not to be noticed if you were careful.

Except when the doors slid open on the Human Resources floor, they revealed dark hallways and empty desks, along with a smell of cleaning supplies that hadn’t completely banished the musty scent of undisturbed air and dust bordering on decay. A scent that was all too familiar to you. You punched the close doors button, pressing it over and over again until they finally slid shut and quickly selected the next floor up.

Only to have the doors slide open and reveal a set of offices that looked a lot more like you had expected, alongside a surprised-looking woman standing outside waiting to take the elevator.

“Who are you?” she asked, even as her eyes went down to the visitor’s badge hanging around your neck.

“Uh—”

“Oh, Y/N,” she said, her tone changing quickly. “Did Google send you to the wrong floor? He was supposed to take you to the studio manager’s office himself.”

“Manager?” you repeated. “I think I might have—”

Before you could come up with an excuse, she smiled and said, “Don’t worry, this place can be easy to lose yourself in if you don’t know where you’re going. Let me show you.”

She stepped into the elevator alongside you and pressed yet another button, except this one did have a label: “ID Required.”

“Your badge should work, if Google’s added you to the list,” she said. “Just hold it up in front of the scanner, and it’ll read the code on the bottom.”

Still absolutely baffled as to who this woman was or what was going on, you followed her directions and held your visitor badge up to the black square that until now you had just assumed was for decoration. She patiently turned your hand so that it was facing the correct way, and the elevator gave a different tone before it began moving upward.

“Uh, thanks,” you said, but she just shrugged.

“I’m just glad I caught you. I was about to head to lunch, and I doubt one of the editors would even notice someone was wandering around looking for help. And then I’ve got to go have a talk with Wilford, again…” she muttered the last part, pinching the bridge of her nose underneath her glasses and sighing before she seemed to remember someone else was there. “Is this your first time in the studio?”

“Y-yes, it’s been interesting,” you answered, trying to figure out how to tactfully ask who this studio manager was and why they wanted to see you without giving away that you still weren’t sure why your name had been on the visitor list at all. “I’m guessing you’re one of the producers here?”

“That’s right, name’s Kathryn,” she said, sticking out her hand for you to shake just before the elevator doors slid open once again to reveal a large foyer-like area, well decorated with artwork and an expensive-looking rug, even a set of vaguely humanoid shaped statues on either side of the opposite dark oak doors, alongside plants and wide windows to let in the sunlight and show off the rest of the city further below. “He’ll be waiting for you, just go right in. And if you need anything at all after you’re done here, just let me or one of the crew know.”

“Thank you,” you said, stepping out into the foyer and walking as far as the middle of the room before the elevator doors closed behind you. At which point, you were free to panic on your own.

This was bad.

Either whoever was on the other side of those doors thought you were someone else who just happened to share the same name, or they knew exactly who you were and had been expecting you.

It wasn’t hard to guess which one of those was the worse option, or the more likely one considering Wilford’s presence here as well.

You looked over your shoulder at the elevator doors and the curtain-like drapes to either side that you suspected, based on the layout of the floors below, hid the door to the stairwell. Either one would be an easy escape back down to the others.

You took a deep breath, in the process realizing that this room had recently been cleaned, or wasn’t used often enough for you to be able to pick up the scent of anyone else, familiar or not. A shame, considering the view, and you would have liked to have some kind of idea what you were walking into when you forced yourself to walk toward the set of doors on the other side of the room.

Doors which swung open as you approached, seemingly on their own, to reveal an office on the other side possibly larger and more elegant than the foyer that led into it, if you had been in any state of mind to notice.

Instead, your eyes were drawn toward the desk in the center of the room and the man in a well-tailored suit casually leaning against the front of it who smiled at you and said, in an all too familiar voice:

“Hello, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

A snarl escaped your throat as you lunged forward, nails like claws digging into the polished surface of the desk and leaving deep scratches where the man had been just a moment before. Your other senses caught him, and before he could do so much as breathe, you spun around and slammed him up against the wall behind one of the doors, a growl coming from deep within your chest that sounded a lot more like it came from the wolf.

“You.” It barely came out as a word, as you struggled not to change back right here and now and let the wolf take over everything you’d like to do at the moment.

Only because you wanted to get some answers first, and for that you needed to remain in control and stay human for a little longer, at least.

“Me,” he answered, sounding calm for someone who had a half-transformed werewolf at his throat. Dark eyes studied with you interest, and the heartbeat you could feel underneath your hands was calm, steady, if far too slow. “Although I’m not sure we’re thinking of the same person.”

“I know who you are,” you said, your hand pressing tighter against his neck, forcing his chin up to reveal old scars there and under the collar of his shirt. Scars left by Mark, before he tossed aside this body in favor of a new one that hadn’t suffered as much abuse. “Damien. Or am I talking to Celine?”

He smirked. “That’s a…complicated question these days. The process of taking this body took its toll on Celine which she hasn’t quite recovered from yet, and dear Damien, well…there are some things you can’t walk away from without being changed. I’m sure you can relate.”

You growled, already suspecting that you wouldn’t have nearly enough patience to deal with whoever was piloting this corpse at the moment. Did it really even matter, anymore?

“No, these days most people just call me ‘Dark,’ if they even bother to give me a name. I’m just the studio manager, after all.”

“Dark Entertainment Studios. So they think you named this place after yourself,” you said, but the smirk on his face disappeared when you added, “Guess you and Mark have that in common too, then. Markiplier, Markiplier Manor…”

“Do not compare me to him,” “Dark” said, anything like humor or fake friendliness dropping from his tone. “I am nothing like that man.”

You laughed, a bitter sound that was far too close to becoming tears. “Really? After everything you did, you want to pretend you have some kind of moral high ground over Mark?”

Dark didn’t move, but you felt something grab at your arms, your legs, your chest, a cold darkness that spread from somewhere behind you to wrap you in its tight, choking grip.

“You know better than anyone else what he did to us, Y/N. He betrayed us all, turned us against each other for his own amusement and then left us to die while he walked away in my body, all because he couldn’t handle having his heart broken. He manipulated us, used us, and then—”

“So did you!” You strained forward with another snarl, unsure if the way the office around you was fading was because of whatever was holding you back or because you were cutting off your own blood flow trying so hard to break free from it. “How dare you talk about betrayal and lies?! You left me there, trapped to burn and die over and over again in that mirror for years! Decades! I trusted you, Damien, I believed you, I would have done anything to help you and Celine, and you…”

“Needed to pay a price,” Dark answered coolly, no trace of emotion in his eyes or face despite your words. “Power requires a cost, and returning us all to the land of the living, you back to your body and Celine and Damien to this one, to get these broken bodies of ours moving again, all of that does not come cheaply, my friend.”

He paused at the pained growl that came out of you and walked away, a moment later the grip the darkness had on you disappearing as quickly as it started. You turned to find him standing on the other side of his desk, glancing down at the claw marks you left before looking up at you again.

“Celine and Damien became consumed by their desire for revenge, to do whatever it took to destroy Mark, no matter how long it took, no matter what it cost. Thus was born me, ‘Dark.’ Your…beloved detective has paid a similar price, whether or not he realizes it. And you…you spent your time in the mirror, in your cage of silver, and your price was paid that way.” Dark shrugged easily and said, “It’s one reason I made it a little…easier for your magician to find you. Once the time was right.”

“You—what?”

Marvin had been looking for you, ever since he and the others found out about your disappearance. He had told you that, told you how he had even gone to the house before and found nothing, but only now did it click into place.

“You were hiding me from him. You could have let me go at any moment, and instead you kept anyone else from helping me?”

“Because the price—” Dark paused as you lunged forward and vaulted over the desk only for your clawed hands to slash at empty air, before he continued from the other side of the room, “Had to be paid. I’m not your enemy here, Y/N, whatever you may be thinking right now.”

“You stole my life from me!”

“After you lost it,” Dark answered, again moving out of your reach in the blink of an eye. It was the same way Jackie moved sometimes, when he would show up out of nowhere or disappear just as quickly to go out and do his vigilante work. Whatever Damien and Celine had become, you could smell the entity’s influence still at work here. “After Mark set you up to die, over and over again in his little game. The cards, the silver bullets, in every way he stacked the deck against you. Not that you were the only one; if it were up to him, he would have been the only one to walk out of that house alive.”

“…He was the only one who came back, after you left,” you said, carefully watching Dark for his reaction. “He offered to help me get out of the mirror.”

Dark’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment his form became hazy, as though the darkness was back again and swirling around him with flashes of gray and silver like static. “I’m sure he did. You would make the perfect pet then, being bound to pay back your debt to him. A tempting idea—”

Dark again disappeared and reappeared, but this time you were ready, and it was only the darkness that followed him that held you back as he smirked and continued, “But it does seem like you’re lacking the training someone like him would prefer.”

Mark’s last words came back to you, not that they had ever left you for long since that short conversation.

“I’ll come back around, once you’ve learned how to heel.”

Dark, studying your face closely, saw the flicker in your eyes, the sting of memory, and he took a step closer to you as he said, “I could have been the one to free you from the mirror. I could have brought you back here, nursed you back to health, left you dependent on me for every meal, for every breath of fresh air and whisper of sunlight until you realized that I was the only one you could ever really trust to come back for you. I could have made you mine, no matter how long it took.”

He was closer now, and a hand went to the side of your face, just close enough to leave a trace of warmth without touching you (or being within biting range).

“But what did I do instead? I led your friends to you. I watched from a distance as you gathered your strength, as you readjusted to the world. I used Google to leave a trail for you, away from that pointless detour you were going down to Wilford, to here, so that you could come on your own terms, and meet me face to face,” Dark said. “All because I think, with enough time, you’ll understand. That you can be reasoned with, that you’re not some wild animal that needs to be caged until you’re tamed. Believe me when I say that Mark would not have exchanged the same courtesy, if he had been able to get to you.”

You lunged backward, either breaking the grip the shadow had on you or being let go to keep your distance from Dark, even though you knew this room wasn’t nearly big enough to give you all the distance you wanted right now. “And what, you expect me to be grateful? Like the fact that you had a chance to be even worse and didn’t take it somehow undoes everything else you’ve done?”

You paced back and forth along the side wall of the office, oblivious to the window and view as you passed, to the paintings and the fake plant in the corner because nothing living could survive in this room with him and whatever it was that surrounded him, that toxic air that tore at the back of your mind and, for a moment, made you feel like you were back in the house, back to pacing the floor of a hollow reflection, where your body wanted nothing more than to change to the wolf and the safety and security that form provided.

Your fists clenched, forcing the claws to turn back to fingernails, as you continued, “You trapped me there, left me to suffer, you—I—and for what?! So you could become some TV executive?!”

Level with his desk now, it was an easy swipe of your arm that sent papers flying and his computer monitor crashing to the ground. He did nothing to stop you, and did not even flinch as the coffee mug went sailing by his head, an inch or two off thanks to your still recovering eyesight.

“If you’re done,” Dark started, only to pause as the stapler almost nicked his ear. Your aim was getting better. “Of course, the first thing I did once I left the house was track down Mark, which proved more…difficult, than I imagined it would be. He had been with the entity in that house for so long, had learned so much from it, while I was still a patchwork of broken souls bound together by spite and revenge. He nearly killed me, assuming I can even die anymore.”

His expression changed, the disgust evident in his eyes and the turn of his mouth, or as much as you could see them through the thickening haze around him. “But he let me live. Said every ‘hero’ needed a ‘villain’, and he had such great plans for us and this city.”

He spat out the words, and for a moment you thought you saw not one but two men standing there screaming before the haze around him settled back into one form. “If you thought the little game he had us play back at the party was bad, then you cannot begin to imagine what has followed since then, even if it started off small. Our deaths on the front page of every paper must have ruined any hope he had of slinking his way back into society even with a new face, and we both had to be careful not to attract any unwanted attention.”

“So, the first ‘game’ was how to regain power, how to manipulate from the shadows. He chose his pawns, and I chose a medium that I saw some potential in,” Dark smirked and added, “Mostly in the potential it had to hurt the former actor’s ego, I will admit, but still, it has turned out far better than I could have ever expected. First TV, then all the opportunities a more connected world provided with such a willing and eager audience.”

“Why?” you asked, trying to ignore the prickle under your skin that suggested fur trying to grow out. “What’s the point of all of this?”

“We can tear each other apart all we want, but we’ve both grown stronger over the years and the casualties for everyone around us would be…significant, if that happened. Like destroying all of the chess pieces until there’s not even a board left to play on. So instead, we find other outlets to gain an advantage over the other. Mark would say that it’s a fight for the soul of this city, but then he was always the one for delusions of heroism,” Dark said with a roll of his eyes. “This city isn’t the one you remember, but you’ve probably already realized that. Technology, progress, all of that. And monsters, allowed to live out in the open! Assuming they’re the right kind of monster, of course, as long as they can be tamed and fit within his precious view of what is right and good.”

“Meanwhile, I’ve been more than welcoming to our…less than conventional employees here. Under my protection, they have nothing to fear from the Bronson Institute. Bim Trimmer would be a stuffed curiosity if Mark had his way, but here he can be in front of the camera, in the homes and on the phones of millions, to become comfortable to them. He used to be nothing more than a glorified gate guardian, and now people come to the studio to have selfies taken with him and to get his autograph. And the same goes for every other nonhuman that appears on his shows.”

Dark stepped closer and you immediately took a step back, but he merely bent down to pick up a knickknack that had been knocked to the floor during your sweeping off of the desk. It was a metal recreation of the studio’s logo, a silhouette of the city skyline with D.E. Studios engraved into it with a cursive script, and weighty enough that if you had been thinking clearly you would have tried to hurl it at his face before knocking it to the ground.

“Influence what people see, what they’re exposed to, and you influence what they think. There’s a power in that, and I think that I have used mine well, don’t you?” Dark asked.

You bit back your instinctive response to that, very aware that Dark was trying to do just that right now. Control what he told you, paint a picture that portrayed him as the suffering hero here and influence what you thought. Instead, you asked, “Is that why you brought Wilford here? To protect him? But if so, why wait until now?”

“When has Wilford ever needed my protection? His mind isn’t what it used to be, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but he still has that same astonishing ability to survive whatever comes his way. No...” Dark frowned down at the studio logo, turning it over in his hands as though searching for something on its surface, before he looked back up at you.

“These games, they’re not just about the ‘fate of the city’ or whatever you want to call it. Mark wants power, but more than that, he wants to make everyone who hurt him suffer as much as he thinks he suffered. And I’ll admit that at least for me, the feeling is mutual. The same night you broke free from the mirror, Wilford was playing what would be his last show at that disco, and a certain hunter was on his way back to the city. Do you really think that was a coincidence? A new game has started, and Mark and I have already chosen our players.”

You stared at him as this information sank in. Wilford was here, under Dark’s protection, which meant that he must have “chosen” him. And there was only one person Mark would choose if that was the case, only one person who had been searching after the Colonel all this time already, who Dark had already said was just as consumed by revenge as the man you once thought you knew. It would be so easy to push him in the right direction and watch him go.

“And how do these games of yours end?” you asked, your mouth so dry that you could barely get the words out.

Dark raised an eyebrow at that, his expression saying that you both already knew the answer to that.

Among the remains of everything that had once been on his desk, there was a low buzz before Google’s voice came from the surprisingly still functioning black glass orb that was cracked down the middle.

“Sir, there is an issue that requires your permission for maximum response.”

Dark sighed and nudged the device with the toe of his shoe, causing the surface of it to change and become a lighter shade of gray. Perhaps it was lighting up with some color, but you couldn’t be sure and it didn’t seem to matter much when it began to flicker and stutter.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume the answer is no, but explain.”

Google’s voice was distorted when he spoke through the device again, glitching and stuttering as he said, “Your-your response is-is-is unclear, Sir. There appears to be an err-err-error in the—”

There was a garble of noise before his voice came through again, “Unauthorized intruders in the-in the-in the—one matching record on fi-i-i-ile, Abe—”

Another garble of static, and when Dark attempted to prod the device again, it responded by neatly splitting in half along the crack as the glow within died completely.

“I paid a lot for that,” Dark remarked, sounding surprisingly calm despite this latest revelation. “A direct line to that Google unit, among other things.”

“You mean you can’t get him back?” you asked. “What’s he going to do to Abe?”

“Well, without directions from an authorized source, he will have to resort to his programming. Or at least, how he chooses to interpret it in this situation.” Dark shrugged and said, “He generally tends to prefer the lethal options. A bit of a problem that his creator couldn’t be bothered to work out in the first run of development, I suspect.”

“Then tell him to stop,” you growled, stepping up to Dark only for him to stare you down.

“And how, exactly, am I to do that? You destroyed the device, and as I don’t know where in the building they are, calling around isn’t likely to be helpful. And of course, you make the mistake of assuming that I care.” Dark didn’t flinch as you grabbed him again, and there was no attempt by his shadow to defend himself as he continued, “I’m not stopping you from doing whatever you want, Y/N, but I’m not about to do anything for that man. You can run and find your precious hunter, but I think in the long run you will wish you had stayed here and let Google do his job. A hunter is a hunter, after all, and you…”

He cast his eyes down before meeting yours again, and you became painfully aware of your current state. You could feel the shape of your teeth that did not belong in this mouth, the fur still itching to show itself, the claws digging into the palms of your hands. All it would take was a single push, and you would change entirely with no guarantee of how long it would take to change back, assuming you even could.

But you couldn’t let this happen, either.

“This game is over,” you snarled into his face, promising yourself that this wasn’t going to end here, that you would make sure Dark and Mark both paid for what they had done.

Until then though, you had more important things to worry about, starting with finding Abe before Google found him, or before he found Wilford.

Dark watched you run out of the office and tear back the curtains hiding the door to the stairs in the foyer before disappearing from sight. He smiled to himself and leaned back against his desk, oblivious to the mess around his feet. His fingers, however, found the deep marks you had left behind on the otherwise smooth, dark surface. So much anger, so much fear, and so much confusion.

It was almost too easy.

((End of Part 23. Thanks for reading! Fun fact, in the first ideas for this story, it was Actor Mark who was running the studio, but I feel like Dark being here fits better. Plus, more of a Markiplier TV feel that way. I also had Dark casually admitting that sometimes there’s the occasional “accident” involving audience members or contestants, before I remembered that he’s supposedly trying to get Y/N on his side. XD

The next part is the one that I wanted to get to before I started posting again, which is why there might be another delay after tomorrow. I’ll talk more about that in the notes section of that part.

Link to Part 24: Three Shots Fired.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard ))