#reblogs off yet again. the disorders

[agueforts]

do you ever think something to yourself and silently realize, with perfect clarity, exactly why a given character appeals to you

[nyctoaerah]

TWTWTWTWTWTW: GORE TWTWTWTWTW

Hi, I love the Yandere Gojo series! I'd like to make a request. My request: Yandere Gojo gives his non-sorcerer lover the worst punishment he's ever seen in his life because she keeps trying to run away… he makes her unable to move or run again. either amputation or broken bones. But in the end, he regrets it very much.

⋆♱⋆REMINISCENT

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: Satoru loves Suguru deeply and he misses the latter so much, so how could he let go off you? How could he let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers when you’re literally just like suguru?

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Yandere (duh) bone breaking, Surgery stuff, Satoru himself is already a warning, Satoru has Capgras delusion disorder, Both Reader and Satoru ended up having shared psychosis disorder. Satosugu.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Non-sorcerer reader. Satosugu.

⋆♱⋆NOTE: okokok, i know that you didn’t requested satosugu anon, but there’s a reason why there’s satosugu in here, and it’s important in the plot. Hope you understand<3. Broken bones is already a bad punishment, but i’ll add a twist on it;) Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Please do support me in wattpad and quotev too<3 i suck at doing angst, sooo.... Idk.. might make a part 2 though.

MASTERLIST

HE WASN’T THE MAN that you once knew, no longer the gentle soul who showered you with affection. The bond you shared over four years had been pure, filled with love and warmth, until that cursed night , Twenty fourth of December in 2017.

Satoru’s mental state appeared to deteriorate drastically ever since that day. The once warm and affectionate gaze he used to cast on you had now transformed into a cold and distant stare, devoid of any tender emotions.   

Sometimes he would blame non-sorcerers like yourself too, grumbling things under his breath like

“You non-sorcerers are the reason why suguru went spiraling”

You didn’t grasp the true meaning of this statement until you did a little digging into Satoru’s past. It was then that you realized you had been living in a state of blissful ignorance.

And after learning about his troubles, instead of scolding him for his erratic behavior and pushing him away, you chose to approach him with kindness and understanding—You felt bad, for you would mostly just yell at him for acting like that, when you didn’t knew the reason why he was like that.

You made every effort to comfort him and show him that you cared deeply for him, to show him how apologetic you are for being so ignorant. However, at times, you also confronted him with harsh truths in order to bring him back to reality. 

In these moments of brutal honesty, Satoru took notice of the uncanny similarities between you and Suguru. From the way you conducted yourself to the gestures you made, tie your hair up, everything seemed to echo Suguru’s presence.

The way you spoke, moved, the way your lips would curl up into a smile, the way you would laugh and interacted with others all carried a trace of Suguru’s aura.

And your voice, fuck, the softness of your voice was reminiscent of the way suguru’s voice would soften whenever he talks to satoru.

Despite lacking a clear physical resemblance, the essence of Suguru seemed to radiate from you in all aspects of your actions.

And perhaps, it’s the way that you managed to make him see suguru in you was what made him so obsessed with you. He saw echoes of his beloved friend in your every gesture, your every word. Sometimes, in a strange mixture of jest and earnestness, he would playfully dub you and Suguru, as if to merge the two of you into one entity. Sometimes he would joke about you being suguru’s genderbend.

You found it peculiar yet endearing at first, dismissing it as a harmless quirk borne from grief, as you had always seen it as his coping mechanism. Little did you know, this oversight would prove to be your gravest mistake.

Despite the warning signs he showed, his redflags, you somehow chose to endure it all.

And that was your biggest mistake.

His once-charming gestures now morphed into suffocating constraints, possessiveness, obsessiveness. Slowly but surely, he isolated you from the outside world, severing even the most basic ties of communication with your own family.

Your past talking stage and lovers would be either found dead or missing without any trace. The friends who once stood by your side now regarded you with wary glances, distancing themselves.

Of course, you felt a deep sense of sadness, believing there was a flaw within yourself. And seeking solace and understanding, you opened up to Satoru, shedding tears as you shared the studf that you were facing in your life. In your moments of vulnerability, he offered you comfort, reassuring you that he was all you needed and that you should distance yourself from other individuals. He warned you that these individuals posed a threat to your well-being, emphasizing that their intentions were harmful—and insisting that he was the only one that you need.

As much as you wanted to believe Satoru and trust him completely, your innate intuition stopped you from fully buying into his facade. Because despite his convincing demeanor, a lingering sense of unease tugged at the back of your mind, suggesting that something wasn’t quite right.

Moreover, Satoru showed a tendency to involve himself in even the most mundane of tasks, such as brushing your hair, typically tasks you would manage alone. It seemed as though he viewed you as some kind of doll, someone he could manipulate and control at his own whim. He made sure to always be in close proximity to you, refusing to give you any moments of solitude. The only instances where he allowed you some privacy were during bathing or changing, and even then, he seemed reluctant to leave your side.

His obsession became so intense that he became insistent on your constant presence by his side, whether he was on a mission, teaching, or interacting with colleagues. His students and coworkers all recognized the unhealthy attachment, with Shoko and even Megumi expressing pity towards you for being caught in Satoru’s suffocating love. Despite the visible discomfort from all parties involved, Satoru remained unmoved, justifying his actions to keep you close at all times.

Even when Shoko attempted to reason with him and knock some sense into his fucked up mind, Satoru would manipulate the situation to shift blame onto them, for separating him with suguru—and that they’re the reason why he only has you now.

Nanami also tried to intervene by trying to convince the higher ups to arrange dangerous solo missions for Satoru in hopes of separating you two, but his stubbornness prevailed.

Maki and Nobara also attempted to intervene, even organizing girls’ nights as a means of providing you with a break from Satoru, yet their efforts were futile. 

Ultimately, the support from those aware of the situation—Nanami, Megumi, Nobara, Shoko, Maki, and others—proved futile in alleviating the troubling dynamic with Satoru. Despite their best intentions and efforts, your circumstances remained unchanged due to Satoru's unyielding obsession on keeping you with him.

Everyone knew how fucked up he was, but what can they do?

Satoru is the strongest after all.

Your parents weren’t even aware of your situation, as you were not allowed to talk or visit them.

One instance stands out in your memory, when you attempted to say that you want to speak with your parents, and he adamantly refused, claiming it was too perilous. Despite feeling frustrated at the time, you ultimately acquiesced to his wishes. The following day though, a horrifying discovery awaited you— the lifeless bodies of your parents. It was at this moment that you began connecting the dots, reflecting on the untimely death and murder of your previous partners, the gradual alienation of your friends, the look of pity his students and colleagues gives you, the persistent reasoning of people trying to separate you from satoru, his increasing control over your actions, and the coincidental deaths of those you sought to interact with. 

The realization dawned on you that all of these  events were orchestrated by Satoru himself, with the sole intention of keeping you entirely under his influence. And an overwhelming sense of fear crept into your chest, prompting you to devise a plan to escape while he was on a mission. 

----𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆

Your entire body was engulfed in pain and weariness, each muscles contracting in pain, your breaths labored and shallow as if your lungs were about to give out—About to rupture, and a searing sensation in your chest as it tightens, heaving with each labored breath you took.

Your feet were raw and bloody, multiple cuts on it from the jagged edges of rocks you have stepped on, perspiration was all over your body in rivulets, and a dry, scratchy feeling in your throat due to lack of moisture and oxygen.

Everything burned, yet you persisted in moving forward, walking a fine line between imminent collapse and the urgent need to evade getting caught by Satoru—your boyfriend.

Rather than face capture, you were willing to risk death in your desperate attempt to escape.

You’d rather die trying to escape than live without trying to fight for your freedom.

The exhaustion consuming you mattered little, all that occupied your mind was the need to break free from his grasp and his control over you.

The passage of time was a blur, perhaps an hour had passed since you began running, your energy waning as your vision blurred with fatigue. 

Lost in the vast unknown surroundings, it seemed as though you were trapped in a never-ending loop. Uncertain of your location in Japan, the isolated landscape consisted only of a sprawling mansion, trees, and barren land devoid of any signs of human life. It felt as though you had been completely cut off from civilization.

As you continued running, tears streaming down your face, your mind were spinning and every hair on your body stood on end at the sound of his voice suddenly booming.

“Hm? Is that you that i see there, [Name]?”

You froze.

“What have I told you about leaving without my permission?”

The sound of Satoru's voice sent a shiver down your spine, freezing you in your tracks. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to keep moving, to escape his reach, but the fear of his wrath paralyzed you in place.

“S-satoru.. what are you doing here...?” 

You couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to be here when he was supposed to be on a mission. Your mind raced with confusion and disbelief.

“No, what are you doing here?” He asks, staring down at you coldly.

“Are you.. trying to run away?” He questioned you as he stepped closer to you.

Your breath hitched, throat constricting as you looked up at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

“I-i..”

“I-i wasn’t i swear—”

You were left speechless as you were suddenly shoved you down, causing your head to hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood trickled down your forehead as a cry of pain escaped your throat. 

His gaze bore down on you with a chilling intensity, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re trying to leave me..”

“I trusted you,” he whispered shakily.

“How could you? I made sure to go back as soon as possible after my mission was finished so that you won’t be in danger... And now you’re running away and putting yourself in danger?”

Out of nowhere, his hand tightly gripped your throat, squeezing with such force that it became difficult to breathe, leading to a sensation of suffocation and a blurred vision.

“S-satoru n-nnh! L-let go!”

Struggling to break free, you frantically attempted to pry his fingers off your neck, letting out choked screams in the process. Your body thrashed around violently, desperately trying to fend him off by kicking in all directions. 

“You’re really just like suguru... always trying to resist..” 

“I trusted you,” he whispered unsteadily, his voice cracking.

“But what have you done?” he asked shakily.

His pupils trembled like leaves in a fierce wind, his entire frame quivering with an unsettling intensity. Those piercing sapphire eyes bore into you, sending shivers down your spine in the dim, eerie stillness of the forest.

“L-let go p-please satoru!” You begged.

“P-please. A-ahn.. let g-go, ‘Toru, please,”

“T-toru, haaah, i-i c-can’t breathe”

He seemed to pause at that when you called him “Toru.” 

And slowly, his grasp slackened, leaving you gasping for precious breath as your lungs desperately clawed for every molecule of air.

You coughed, again and again and again, and he just watched you.

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you turned to look at him, your face contorted in anger abd fear.

“Y-you’re crazy satoru,” Your voice emerged hoarse and jagged.

“You’re crazy, i swear” You rasped as you dragged yourself away from him, only for him to close the distance.

 “Crazy?” he repeated.

“Yes, crazy for love.” His fervor seemed to border on mania.

“Yes I’m Enamored, Suguru.” he professed with an almost unsettling zeal, his voice now carrying a hauntingly romantic lilt as though the torment he inflicted on you was an act of devotion.

Your breath hitched.

“What...?” your eyes widened.

“I’m not... Suguru...” Your voice faltered, delicate lips quivering. Pain pulsed through every fiber of your being, urging you to run away, yet how could you escape from one so consumed by his own distorted reality? Satoru appeared to be in a haze, his eyes vacant and unseeing—He was in his delusional state.

“Suguru, let’s go home..” Satoru mumbled.

You swallowed thickly. You were about to make a dumb move, but fuck, he really needed to snap out of it.

Gently, you cupped his face between trembling hands, hoping your tender touch might pierce the delirium and make him snap out of it.

“Please, ‘Toru, focus on the sound of my voice. It’s not suguru, it’s me”

But he remained ensnared in his twisted visions, oblivious to reality.

“...Satoru... ‘Toru, listen to me. I’m not suguru.”

“I’m not him. I’m [Name], your girlfriend...”

Again, and again and again, you tried to convince him that you’re not suguru.

“I’m [Name], the one that you met at the bakery that you liked so much... And i’m not suguru ”

You phrased it in different words.

And yet...

He was still lost in it.

“What are you saying suguru?”

Dread constricted your heart, each moment bringing you closer to the brink. To flee would surely send him into a frenzy but to stay would probably result in suffering. 

“Don’t say things like that... Suguru”

he whispered.

“I still haven’t forgave you for running away.” He uttered, and a pit formed on your stomach.

“I’m [Name], not suguru—Toru... Please, fuck, snap out of it”

He ignored you as he gently caressed your cheek before guiding your head towards his for a kiss. Your heart pounded as your lips met, the sharp sting of his teeth on yours making you whimper.

“S’toru... Stop...”

When he didn’t stop, you reacted by biting his tongue hard, making it bleed. Surprisingly, this did not deter him; instead, he released a soft moan of pleasure. 

“Oh fuck... You’re still the same as always, suguru.”

You gasped as he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Sa-Satoru... What the fuck..?” You shrieked. Why the hell did he said that? Does this meant that... He was in a previous relationship with Suguru? Did he used you as a rebound? No, fuck, he sees suguru in you.

You understand it now.

“I’ll make sure you don’t do it again,” He whispered.

“Huh?”

“Make sure that you don’t massacre a whole ass village again so that they won’t separate you from me...”

Slowly, deliberately, his other hand drifted downward toward your ankle. Your heart drops as you felt him do that.

Oh fuck, he’s not planning on snapping your ankles, is he?

“Satoru, no, no, no, no, no!”

You strained against his crushing hold, but could only witness in horror as his fist closed around the delicate bones.

“If you do that, i’ll never forgive you— AHHH!”

A strangled scream caught in your throat as you felt the unmistakable snap of your ankle splintering beneath his strength.

White-hot pain lanced up your leg and your vision blurred with tears of misery. Before you could process the pain of the first break, his hand was upon your other ankle. You knew what was coming yet were powerless to prevent it. Another sickening crack reverberated through your shattered nerves as satoru callously contorted the joint beyond its limits. Bone fragmented, muscle tore, and ligaments ripped apart, leaving your legs crippled and limp.

----𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

His fingers pressed insistently beneath your chin, a mixture of gentle caress and firm control as he meticulously groomed your hair, each stroke designed to emulate the exact style of Suguru’s locks.

Tying it back partially, he sought to replicate every minute detail, ensuring you bore an eerie resemblance to his obsession—Suguru. But the true horror lay in his pervasive fixation upon you as Suguru incarnate. He paid face surgeons to sculpt and mold  your face until the reflection in the mirror bore a warped semblance to Suguru’s features, he would drape you in Suguru’s attire and bestowing upon you the very essence of his fucking bestfriend.

And the worst of it all? he managed to find suguru’s daughters and practically forced you to take care of them—like the way suguru would take care of them. Even suguru’s daughters were horrified — yet they were too scared to even refuse.

All of the horrors that he had made you go through broke you completely.

“Perfect,” he murmured with a self-satisfied hum, stepping back to survey his handiwork.

You just sat there, disoriented, and feeling hollow as an empty shell.

Stripped of your true identity and coerced into being someone else you weren’t. The drugs he administered clouded your mind, the brainwashing eroding your sense of self until you could no longer discern who you are. The only thing you knew is that you’re suguru.

It was a bad punishment, real, real bad punishment.

Your identity was snatched, and you were no longer yourself.

He furrows his brow, observing the silence that hangs between you.

“C’mon speak, suguru.” he urges, his gaze piercing into yours.

“Isn’t it perfect?”

Suddenly, a flicker of realization dances in his eyes as they narrow, scrutinizing the subtle yet noticable difference between your eyes and suguru. The shift is imperceptible to most, but to him, it is a glaring anomaly that demands attention.

A smirk curls onto his lips

“Seems like we need to adjust those eyes of yours as well, huh? Don’t you agree, suguru ?” 

Satoru sighed as his calloused fingers tangled themselves in thick ebony locks, pulling your motionless form taut against his chest. An ichor-cold sense of wrongness had settled itself deep in his marrow, its barbs tearing at his insides. 

His beloved Suguru was already here... But... Where is his [Name]?

“Nanako and Mimiko would be upset to see you like this suguru...”

​​​​​RING

RING

Satoru blinked at the sudden shrill clamor emanating from his phone—and he realized that someone was calling him, still cradling your form  against his chest with a singular hand. He took the device from his trousers one-handed, calloused fingers opening his phone.

When at last the lock screen dissolved into view, an icy shiver seized his marrowed bones. 

It was you—in your normal self, kissing him in the cheek, and you two looked very happy.

Why did suddenly felt wrong?

...

... It felt wrong...

So, so wrong.

Why did nostalgia for your genuine self now claw so vehemently at the fissures in his heart, when only Suguru had the right to reside there?  

[rindousbbg]

Summery: You guys broke up due to a stupid reason and he's getting you back no matter what.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: None

Requested: No

A/n: took so long, finished it long time ago but forgot to post 😭. Reblogs are appreciated.

Mikey wasn't certainly good at most of the things but love. He never understood the concept of the word called love. Surely he never dated, he was too occupied with gang shit that he never really thought of love and to give any attention towards it.

Until you came and swept him off his feet. You weren't more special than any girl, you were simple and kind like the rest of them. But what made his heart flutter when you respected his passion for his gang? Brought him his favourite snack-dorayaki. When you comfort him all the time whenever he gets upset because of his dead brother. You never left him or made him feel small.

He was very glad because of that but yet after getting into a relationship you both shortly broke up after 1 year. Why? You still questioned yourself.

Was it because you have gotten chubbier? Or was it because you have gotten skinnier and it made you look like a skeleton? Or was it because he was ashamed to call you his girlfriend in front of everyone or was it because he was simply tired of you, your nagging and the simple gesture of being worried for him? You still wonder about that.

But why does it hurt Manjiro so much to look at you with another boy instead of him?? Something isn't right when you are with someone else, you should be with him. He was shameless after practically breaking up with you for no reason and a proper explanation he still wanted you to look after him and only him. Call him possesive but isn't what he is?

"Are you dating him?"

A cold voice spoke out behind you making you immediately turn.

"What are you...doing here?"

You spoke slowly, too shocked to say anything. He was the least expected person to be here.

You were waiting for your name co-worker to come back from the store since you needed some food supplies.

"You didn't answer my question"

"You didn't either"

He blankly stared at you.

"You have bad taste"

"Huh"

You questioned him.

"What do you mean?"

"Your taste has gotten worse"

You widen your eyes at his statement, what does he mean by that? Was he thinking you and your co-worker are dating and that's why he is saying? Or something else.

Questions after questions keep flooding inside your head making your head spin.

"We aren't..dating"

"Really?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his statement.

"What you are doing here anyway?"

"To buy dorayaki what else...don't think I'm stalking you or something"

His tone changed after your last statement, which makes you wonder if was it really because he was relived you weren't dating your co-worker or if was it because he has bipolar disorder.

"Okay, I guess"

You decided to walk away from him. But he keeps catching up with his bike. You stopped in your tracks.

"What do you want?"

"Aight, let's get back together"

You stared at him as if he was talking gibberish.

"Are you for real?"

"For real"

he smiled confidently.

"No, we broke up already"

"Well we did but it was your fault anyway"

He gasped dramatically and shook his head at you imitating a hurt expression.

"You ate my dorayaki".

He exclaimed once again.

"Geez Mikey it was just a dorayaki"

You rolled your eyes.

"See, that's a valid reason"

you stared at him for some seconds and started to walk away as fast as you could.

"Wait!"

"What now?"

He took a deep breath.

"Sorry."

"for?"

"I took this matter too far"

"You did"

He wondered everywhere except you, he was trying to find words to tell you but looks like he could not find any.

"Ken-chin told me that it was too childish and I was immature acting like a kid"

"He is right and you are a kid though"

His eyes darkened.

"I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I couldn't fall asleep nor eat peacefully"

"So you are bringing me back just for your own benifit?"

He shakes his head.

"No. You are kind of my habit. Just like people can't spend a day without blinking their eyes I can't spend my day without you, I need you. Please forgive me and let's get back together"

"That was... lowkey cringe"

You murmured to yourself.

"I heard that"

"I missed you"

He smiled.

"Hop on my bike already"

You did as he said and drove off somewhere. It was already evening. He stopped, parking the bike somewhere.

"Mikey?"

He hummed.

"Will you leave me ever again? For somebody else?"

You asked him.

"Never."

"How can I believe you? You broke up with me because of a dorayaki."

He realized how big of a matter it was to you. He felt bad for making you feel this way.

"Come here!"

You did and closed the distance between you and him.

"Would you mind?"

He pointed at your lips. You understood what he meant and slowly nodded.

Soon he brought his lips closer to yours and placed his lips onto yours, it was a soft and gentle kiss. Mikey didn't have to say anything after it. The kiss said enough about how he misses you. The slight desperation was visible that he had missed you.

Shortly after, he pulled away.

"I don't know about promises or keeping them but I promise that I won't do that again"

You both stared into each other's eyes once again.

"You sure?"

He gave you a small smile and leaned once again to let his lips collide with yours to tell you the answer.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 51

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: ya'll rock.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Amber takes you to a large truck. The man, Curtis, opens the door and she helps you in. It’s an older model with a bench seat. He gets in the other side and slides a key into the ignition. You hug your things tight, staring ahead. Dazed and dull. 

You’re out. You think. This is real, right? 

Amber rubs your shoulder as she keeps her arm around you. Curtis turns on the heat so it blasts on you. You only realise then that your teeth are chattering. 

“Bub, you okay?” Amber asks. You nod and blink at her then the man on her other side. “This is Curtis. He’s a friend.” 

He dips his chin and you look at the dashboard. You can’t speak. Your insides are all shaky. You look over your shoulder at the house. Their house. 

“Go,” Amber says. “Curt, let’s just leave.” 

He shifts and puts his foot on the gas. Amber holds you as he drives. You wiggle your nose and sniffle but the tears don’t come. You’re still afraid. It doesn’t feel over yet. It’s not. 

You look down, your stomach shielded by your clothes, bundled around the tablet and journal. That’s all you have. All you have to prove it was real. If you didn’t take them, you would be sure you didn’t dream it all. 

“There’s the blanket,” Curtis says. 

His voice is grizzly, like a bear. His knuckles are even a little furry. Amber pulls the blanket from between them and throws it over you. 

“I’m just so happy you’re safe. You’re here,” Amber rocks you. “You’re with me. Oh, bubba, I was terrified.” 

You lean into her. Her warmth enshrines you. You turn your face into her shoulder. Just like cinnamon. “Me too,” you whisper. 

You stay like that. When the engine quiets, you feel like you’re still in motion. You don’t move until Amber does. She helps you slide out of the truck but as you land on your feet, you stumble. Your journal slips out and lands open on the cold ground. 

She hops down after you and picks it up. You squeal and grab at it. She can’t read it. It’s yours! She closes it calmly and smiles, holding it out. She tucks it behind your armful. 

“Come on, bub, too cold out here.” 

You let her take you inside. Curtis holds the door again. He’s quiet and patient. He’s scary at first sight but there’s a calmness to him that keeps you from panicking. After the men you’ve dealt with, you should be hiding. 

You set down your things little by little. It’s hard to let go. You leave them on the low bench as Amber and Curtis unlace their boots. You slip off your shoes and look around.

One of your paintings hangs on the wall; a bluebird with a sprig of lily-of-the-valley in its beak. You go close to look at it. You know it’s yours but you find it hard to think that you made that. It looks so cheerful. 

“Pretty,” Curtis comments and you back away from the painting to look at him but your eyes only make it to his chest. 

“She’s talented,” Amber preens, “bubba, let’s get you settled. You want a hot bath?” 

You shake your head. The doctor said no hot baths. You feel sick. Your eyes widen and you scramble in panic. You don’t think as you push between them and race down to the bathroom. You hurl over the sink and whine. 

You hear your sister’s hushed tones followed by her soft footsteps. Her shadow hovers in the door and you crank on the faucet to rinse your mouth. You can barely breath. The acid burns your throat. You can’t tell her the truth. 

“Sorry, I... I’m not feeling well,” you cough and face her. 

“That’s okay. It’s been a hectic day,” she beckons you out. “Well, how about some tea? Ginger, for your stomach.” 

You think that’s okay. It doesn’t have caffeine, you think. You shuffle out after her to the kitchen. Curtis puts the kettle on the stove as you enter. She nods and he nods back. He heads for the door. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he says. 

“Sure, Curt. Thanks again. You don’t know what you’ve done for me.” 

He takes a deep breath, “any time.” 

He leaves and you listen to his steps and the subsequent open and shut of the door. You stare after him. The kettle shakes softly as it heats. You turn back to Amber and you cheek twinges. She’s watching you. 

“He’s your boyfriend.” 

She drops her head and shows her palms, “you got me.” 

“Is he nice?” You ask. 

“So far,” she answers. 

Your chest constricts and you turn your attention to the wall, “mine weren’t.” She lets out a noise, something like a whimper. You shake your head. “No, don’t... feel bad. I don’t want you to.” You push your shoulders up and go to the counter. You lean on it. “You found me and I’m okay now.” 

“Bub, that’s... you’re safe but...” 

“I know. I know. It’s stuck in my head.” You touch your forehead, leaning into your hand. 

She’s silent. You know what she wants to ask but she won’t. Because she loves you. Because she cares. She doesn’t want to hurt you but you hurt her. You heard it in the first note she spoke to you. 

“Let’s have our tea first,” she says as if she can sense your thoughts. 

You nod. 

“Will you get it ready?” You look at the door. “Be right back.” 

“Sure.” 

You go back to the entry way and sift under the clothes. You take your journal. The tablet can wait. You come back as Amber pours the steaming water. She takes a cup and you take the other. You go to the front room and sit on the couch. The mugs clink on the table to steep. 

You clutch the journal in your lap and chew your lip. 

“We don’t have to--” 

“I have to. Or I won’t ever.” You insist. 

“Okay,” she agrees. 

You sit and breathe. It takes a few minutes before your stomach stops churning. You bite down and measure your words. 

“I was with Andy. And he hurt me. So I left. Steve... Dr. Kemp said he could help. I... I thought he would. I thought...” your lip trembles. “I thought I loved him. It’s stupid but I wanted to love him. I wanted someone to love. I wanted him to love me too.” 

Your eye twitches.  

“He didn’t.” 

“Oh, bubba,” she puts her hand on yours. 

“I can’t say... I can’t tell you...” you slip from under her grasp and lift the journal above your lap. You open it. “Will you read?” 

You look at her. She looks scared. 

“You don’t have to but I don’t think I can explain... out loud.” 

“As long as you’re okay with it.” 

“Please,” you beg, “every time I wrote, I wrote to you.” 

You hand her the journal and she takes it with reverence. She pauses and runs her hands over the pages. She puts her head down and her eyes begin to move across the writing. 

Her hand comes up and she covers her mouth. She’s silent and still as she reads. She turns the page and lets out a soft gasp into her palm. It isn’t until she turns the next and wipes her cheeks that you realise she’s crying. 

“Oh, bub...” 

“Just read,” you whisper. 

She continues. Her jaw tenses and her eyes flare as her grief dries up. Her horror turns to anger. She taps her finger at the bottom of the page. 

“What is this?” She flutters the page to the next to check the similarity. 

You know you can’t hide it. Not forever, not today.  

“My cycle. My period,” you explain. “And...” you shudder and your throat locks up. You bring your hands up to your neck and make yourself exhale.  

“It’s not here... or here...” she keeps flipping the pages. “Bub.” 

You feel sick again. You grab the tea and take a gulp. The heat soothes but it cannot heal this wound. 

“Yes.” You sniffle. 

“Yes?” She echoes. “Yes, what?” 

“I have a baby.” 

“What?” She wisps. 

You look down and touch your stomach. “They tested me at the hospital. It’s in there.” 

She slams the book shut and grips it tightly. You’ve never seen her this angry. She stomps around, pacing, then throws the journal and shrieks. 

“They did this too you!?” 

“I let him--” 

“No, no!” She balls her fists. “No, you didn’t ask for it. Don’t you say that. Do you say it!” She snarls and strides around like an animal. “Bub! They—a baby! A--” she stops and sways.  

She closes her eyes and opens her fingers. She flicks her lashes up and looks at you. She walks over to you slowly and sits. She takes your hands into hers. 

“What do you want?” 

“What?” You frown. 

“What do you want to do?” 

You consider her. You left because you didn’t want to burden her. Now you’ve brought home an actual burden. You know what needs to be done. You also know it’s what you want. 

“I don’t want it. It’s not mine. It’s his and I don’t want anything to do with him,” you eke out. 

“Okay, then we will figure it out.” She squeezes your hands. “Together.” 

Your eyes well, “why?” 

“I’m your sister. Why not?” She breathes. “It’s only ever been the two of us. You and me.” 

“I thought... I... they told me you hated me. That I was a burden--” 

“They are bad men. That’s not on you. They took advantage of you and that’s their issue, not yours.” She says. “You got that? None of this is your fault. None of it. Grown men like them know better.” 

You lower your head, “but I... left you.” 

“So? It doesn’t matter. You’ll always have a place with me. Always.” 

You heave into a sob. It’s all coming out now. You can’t hold back. You collapse against her and untangle your hands as you wrap her in a hug. She puts her arms around you and pulls you closer. She leans back with you as your despair pours out in streams. 

“I’m sorry,” you garble, “Amber, I’m so sorry.” 

“Shhh, bubby, shhhh,” she pets your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” 

🕊️

You sleep in Amber’s bed. You just want to be close to her and the thought of being alone is scary. She’s warm and safe. 

When the morning comes, you haven’t got much sleep. It’s hard to relax knowing what’s inside of you. The latent but constant nausea also keeps you awake. You make another trip to spew out your guts before Amber wakes. 

You make her tea. The routine is so simple and familiar. You savour each step. You marvel at the walls that once seemed plain and the house that isn’t so small as it is cozy. 

She smiles, her eyes still sleepy, as you give her a cup. You take your own, chamomile, and stand across the counter from her. You watch her and she gives you a grimace. 

“What?” 

“When’s Curtis coming back?” You ask. 

“Oh, bub, don’t worry about him. I don’t want to crowd you--” 

“But he’s your boyfriend. You miss him already, don’t you?” 

She giggles, “you’re teasing me.” 

You nod and laugh too. 

She rolls her eyes, “he’ll be back when he’s back.” 

“He’s sure strong. And tall. And he has nice eyes,” you goad. 

“Quit,” she sticks her tongue out. 

You almost shake with amusement. It feels good not to be so afraid. “I’m glad you had him, Amb. You shouldn’t be alone. Ever.” 

“He... he’s been a help.” she says. “But, bub, there’s some things we can’t do on our own.” 

You deflate. Right. Back to reality. 

“I think we should take your journal to the police. I found that card you had tucked in there for that officer, Jones? Maybe they can help--” 

“What? My journal?” You yipe. “Please, no, they can’t-- no one else can read it.” 

She sets her cup down and her expression sobers, “I know it’s hard and it’s entirely up to you. Always. I’m not telling you what to do, I’m letting you know you have options. But I want you to think about it, okay?” 

Your nose tingles with unspent tears. She leans forward. “Bubba, there were other children there. Are you sure... you were the only woman? What if they find another like you?” 

You flinch and shake your head, “what? No—no. I...” you tried not to think of it before but you’re not stupid. They won’t just give up, even if it’s not you. 

“Look, you don’t have to decide today. There’s a lot more to deal with. For both of us. So let’s just have one day where we don’t think.” 

You stare at her. You want that so badly but you don’t know if you can stop. The worry stirs constantly, simmering and threatening to boil over. Yet for her you can try. 

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s do that.” 

[moonpool-system]

Plurality in Slay the Princess: Part 1

[pt: Plurality in Slay the Princess: Part 1]

Imagine you're standing facing the unknown, and then a little internal voice begins narrating everything you see.

[The Narrator] "You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path, is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin, is a princess. You're here to slay her; if you don't, it will be the end of the world."

He seems pretty biased.

One of the best indie games to come out in 2023 was Slay the Princess, an indie horror/romance visual novel featuring your player character and the being he's meant to slay, known simply as The Princess. However, you're not alone, in more ways than one- both your player character and the Princess display clear aspects of plurality - aka, multiple identities residing within/utilizing a singular physical body. This can take many forms in real life, from disordered to non-disordered variants, and a good few of them are prominently recognized in this visceral narrative experience.

After the read-more will be some spoilers from the various choices you can make throughout the early game- so while this is part 1, there will be no endgame spoilers yet! It'll start off with Chapter 1 and go deeper from there. If you're intending on playing the game, we HIGHLY recommend you play only after reading Chapter 1 information, or only after this part 1 at most! It's best experienced blind as possible, and trigger warnings are present upon opening the game. This analysis took a while to write, so please consider reblogging if you enjoy!

...

Right from the beginning, the plural undertones of the story are clearly apparent. Once the Narrator stops speaking, you as the one controlling the body are able to communicate by asking various questions directly to the Narrator to press upon, enthuse over, or counter his point. The Narrator is speaking to you mentally, but is not you.

If you continue on the path to the cabin, you're presented with someone else speaking to you internally, titled as "The Voice of the Hero". The Narrator quickly responds with "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's talking about." This situation tells us a lot of interesting things! First off, the Hero defers to the pronoun "we" - as he's clearly responding to the Narrator's direction, the other individual in this situation must be the controller of the body. The Narrator reinforces this concept by talking directly to you, telling you to ignore the Hero. So right off the bat, there are three people in this body- the Host, whom is being controlled by the player, the Narrator, and the Voice of the Hero. They stay with you throughout (most of) the entire game, so even without much happening, the main character is very blatantly plural. The only thing we can tell about them so far is that they're a polyconscious system, wherein each member displays their own individual consciousnesses rather than sharing one, and can all perceive the world using separate streams of thought.

Let's say you head to the cabin, speak to the Princess, and don't even bother taking the pristine blade meant to slay her, as you're intent on saving her. You speak to her with options using "quotation marks" to indicate vocal speech rather than how you've been thinking to the other members of your system, and you free her from her bindings. Just as you're walking up the stairs, the Narrator decides to try and impose his decision instead, and save the world by using the arm of the body to raise the blade to her. Being in control of the body as a plural/system is called fronting, and oftentimes in intense circumstances, one member can "take" the front from another. This is what we see in the desperate Narrator, and the fact that the Hero expresses his frustration at the Narrator's actions at the same time indicates once again that the members of this system are polyconscious.

You resist the Narrator and warn the Princess, and she also notices and addresses the sudden shift in motivation. She then takes the blade, and uses it haplessly against you in self defense. Such is this end of Chapter 1; everything goes dark, and you die.

!!! CHAPTER 2+ SPOILERS BEGIN HERE !!!

[pt: !!! Chapter 2+ spoilers begin here !!!]

Chapter 2 is titled "The Damsel". When everything loads, you're back where you were before- the Narrator doesn't seem to remember you or what happened, but you and the Hero clearly do.

Not only that, but another character has joined the mix since your supposed death- The Voice of the Smitten loudly proclaims his love for the Princess and hatred for the Narrator. Plus, he says something unique- he mentioned "the four of us" foiling the Narrator's "assassination attempts". This four includes the Princess, the Smitten, the Hero, and the Host/player, establishing how everyone here perceives the others as separate entities. Plus, now that naming consistency with the others established, the Narrator, not labeled as a "voice", starts to stand out as something... Different, from the rest of you all.

But it's not just you that's changed; everything within the cabin looks different, and it's not only that.

The Princess has metamorphosized; the Damsel wears a new dress and crown, has a much more gentle and delicate disposition, and her voice sounds significantly higher pitched and kinder. Not only that, but her bone structure is physically thinner, as is addressed later in the route. She has inarguably become different in not only personality but appearance too. Additionally, while she recognizes you and your earlier confrontation, she uses the pronoun "I" to refer to both herself as the Damsel and herself as the Princess before. This is indicative of monoconscious systems, where members share an individual consciousness/train of thought and switching involves the feeling of one member "becoming" another in a smooth transition, and median systems, where members often feel like facets of an overarching identity rather than completely separate entities. We see more evidence to medianhood after the two of you escape, and the Damsel seems to be taken away by... Something. You find yourself presented with the Entity holding her gingerly.

"Something finds me in the Long Quiet and brings me the gift of a fragile vessel."

She cradles her and describes the vessels as "nerves and fibers to feel the worlds beyond. Perspectives to make my own", and the Damsel as "soft and delicate. You molded her to love you, and she'll make for a gentle heart." She words it as if they are the same, and yet different at the same time. You ask if she is the Princess, and she says this;

upon pressuring, she states that you're speaking in circles. "Does it matter where one thing begins and another ends?" This once again supports the fluid concept of median plurality. She is different, and yet she is the same. It's hard to tell the lines between one and the other, even though they both still distinctly exist. She asks you to "bring [her] more perspectives so [she] may be whole", wishing for the facets of herself to be returned to her via completing different routes of the game. Interestingly enough, it seems the Entity displays polyconsciousness during these segments, unlike the in-loop Princesses. In another route she mentions the Princess having a will pushing against her own, and at the end of your conversation she mentions one last thing;

You're flung back to the beginning, with only the Hero and the Narrator at your side, and not a single memory ingame of what happened. You can't re-access old routes, so you have to choose to do something different the next time, to bring different parts of herself home to her.

There are many different routes you can end up on, and the Princess will change in many different ways depending on your decisions. Let's go over some interesting notes on how the two's plurality presents over the course of the time loops.

- The Princess seems to be completely monoconscious when within the loops, sometimes acknowledging herself as different but never referring to her other facets as a separate perspective ("I/me", never "she" like the Entity refers to her vessels.) This rule is only broken by the Stranger route whom, where due to the world literally fracturing, had multiple perspectives shoved into a single one, and she refers to herselves as "we".

- The origin of new facets of the Princess seems to correlate directly with the reset of the world they're in, and we never see her looping forms change otherwise, meaning we can likely assume this to be their origin. While time loops aren't recorded to have happened in this universe, we can safely attribute some sort of metagenic origin to the Princess's median facets. The only other time we see her "change" other than after a reset is her disposition & voice upon the first time meeting her, depending on whether or not we take the pristine blade. This displays that the player character's actions directly affect the Princess's facets as well, however delving into that would get into endgame spoilers, so it'll be touched on in part 2.

- Due to the lack of evident amnesia, distress, or disorder expressed to be caused by her plurality (aside from the Stranger) it's safe to assume the Princess falls under the category of systems/plurals without a dissociative disorder such as DID, P-DID, OSDD1, and UDD.

- On the flipside, the Player's system shows quite a lot of distress and disorder, from the Broken and the Smitten attempting to kill the body to the Cold eager to harm it, as well as many different system members with specific jobs meant to help counteract or ease the negative circumstances of the previous loop. Additionally, during the Moment of Clarity chapter, the Host explicitly experiences amnesia of traumatic memories the other members remember everyone experiencing, displaying dissociative amnesia. It's likely this system falls under the category of plurals with a dissociative disorder such as DID, P-DID, OSDD1, and UDD.

- Many speculate the members of the Player character's system to be your past lives or iterations of you after your death, since for the most part, a new one appears every time the body dies. This would be known as a fenigenic/phoenigenic origin. However, there are a couple instances where this theory falls apart- for example, in the No Way Out route, the Player, Hero, Narrator, and Cheated are joined by both the Voice of the Contrarian and the Voice of the Broken at the same time; right after, the Hero states that this is your third time, meaning if the past life theory is true, there should be only two new members, not three. (The line between alive and dead gets fuzzy later in the route, but this one is cut and dry.) Instead, I propose the Player's system to be an adaptive system, ending up with new members whenever they must adapt their mindset drastically to the situation. The new members often tend to be a reflection of the body's actions during the last loop, which supports this concept as well.

- Routes such as No Way Out and The Adversary complicate these assessments. In No Way Out, every time you die you try something different, which results in a new system member every time. In The Adversary, you fight over and over again with the same determination, and The Stubborn remains as the only new member from the beginning the entire time. However, in both of these routes, the Princess stops changing form at all. Evidence once again shows itself that the Player Character's perception not only affects what the Princess will be, but what the results of his own changes will be as well.

- Another differentiation between you, the "voices", and the Narrator, aside from his lack of memory between loops and insistence that he's not the same person as other versions of him, is how they both treat and experience the Mirror. The Narrator is notably distinct in that he cannot see it during regular gameplay, and that once the world is replaced with it at the end of a route, he's no longer existent to perceive it. The ones labeled "voices" are able to see it and fear it instinctively- while they're different from the Narrator, even they disappear when you look in the mirror and speak to the Entity. Hypothetically, this could mean that you are to the Voices' perspectives as the Entity is to the Princess's. The Entity mentions that nothing but you and her come to the space where you speak.

- Upon meeting the Entity after the third time you bring her a vessel, she greets you with this line; "I am a growing chorus of contradiction. A mass of tides ebbing and flowing all at once in more directions than my attention can bear to hold. To look at any one is to shift them all into something new, and to look away is to reshape them yet again. All of me is changing, and yet the rest is still the same." This is an interesting perspective into her relationship with the vessels and how her overarching identity is affected by her medianhood.

- A case that deserves special mentioning is the route of the Spectre, after killing the Princess without hesitation in chapter 1 and then proceeding to kill yourself after. In Chapter 2, you're then presented with the option to let the Spectre possess you temporarily, giving her not only access to your body, but to your mind. For a brief while, she can hear and interact with all the others currently present with you- at the time, the Narrator, the Voice of the Hero, and the Voice of the Cold. Once she's within you, the Narrator can't even get out a full sentence before she comments, "So this is what it's like to be you, huh? Disembodied voice narrating your every move?" She addresses the Voices differently than the Narrator; "All these shards of broken glass on the floor... Are they also supposed to be you?" The Hero takes initial offense at this, saying that "I'm me, is what I am." The conversation continues to the Hero questioning the Narrator's existence, to which he responds, "You don't need to know what I am. You just need to know that I'm different than you. More important."

To this, the Princess answers, "So you're the one that pulled the strings and made me dead. I can tell you don't belong here. You're barely even there. Like the shape of something left behind. You're more of a... Memory, than a person." And then, "You're kind of like me, actually." What does she mean by that? Is he like a ghost? Something else? It'll be addressed in part 2, but clearly he's different from the rest.

- One of the most affirming dialogue options you can have with the Entity is after the fourth time you bring a Vessel to her, where you both speak about how your systems operate. You can ask her, "When you send me back, I'm not alone. There are voices that speak to me. Some of them are me, but one of them is something else. I call him The Narrator, and he wants me to kill you. Do you have a Narrator? Have the Vessels had one?" This is yet another hint that the Narrator is fundamentally different than the rest of the Player's system, making it clear that together they make up a mixed origin system. In response to your question, the Entity responds with this:

From this we get a few things. For one, the Princesses are referred to in the plural sense ("their minds"), enforcing the separation between them. However, she goes on to describe them existing and constantly metamorphosising into something new, basically confirming the concept of monoconsciousness within the Princesses themselves.

....

From all this, we've drawn a lot of conclusions about the plurality of the Player character and the Princess/Entity from Slay the Princess! Such depth of plural experiences is extremely rare in any media, and this one exemplifies it very well, balancing both personhood and parts-based conceptualizations in its depiction. In part 2 we'll go over how the endgame and its philosophy applies to these concepts, as well as the revelations about the characters involved. It's wonderful to have such vibrant and unique plural representation in a video game; thank you for reading this disambiguation!

[officialaemondtargaryen]

From Her Knees

❝either we're smoking, or we're drinking, or we're at each other's throats. ❞

Summary: You're in a toxic relationship with Aegon.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Unnamed Female Character (no Y/N)

Word Count: ~1.5 k

Author’s Note: This is a rewrite of an old fic for a different character, but it fits Aegon so well that I had to write it for him. I hope that you enjoy it! As always your support through a reblog or comment is appreciated!

Warnings: alcohol use, language, p in v intercourse, oral (m receiving), mentions of previous domestic abuse, they are so bad for each other.

“You don’t do anything, Aegon!”

That was true.

The words she screamed at him usually were. He knew that, of course. That’s why it pissed him off so much. She was always right and she rubbed it in his face every single time. He had been home less than an hour after the shittiest day and she was already gunning for him.

“When am I ever here?” He spat. “I’m never fucking here! And when I am here, I have to listen to you bitch, and moan, and complain, and I’m fucking sick of it!”

That was also true.

He was almost always working; bearing the cross of being his father's son, forced to live a life he despised. It was exhausting, and draining, and all he wanted to do was come home and rest for the few short hours that he had before he had to get up and do it all over again. She’d never let him, though.

“Oh, you’re sick of it? Boo-fucking-hoo, Aegon,” she threw her hands up in the air. “What are you going to do? Leave? You tried that before, remember? It didn’t work.”

She was right again. How many times had they broken up? They had probably been separated more times than they had actually been together. He broke up with her the night before over something equally as futile, and yet, here he was again.

He just couldn’t stay away.

“You’re such a fuckin’ bitch!” He yelled. “You know that?” 

Yeah, she knew. She always had been and he always knew it. Yet, he stayed, she stayed. The two couldn’t stay away from each other.

They were moths to a flame.

He threw the door open, marching outside to the balcony, cigarette already lit and beer bottle in his hand. He slammed the door behind him, but she didn’t flinch. She was used to slamming doors, used to him in her face. Their screaming fits turned into fist fights almost every single time.

“Yeah, well fuck you,” she mumbled.

She poured herself a drink, swallowing the warm liquid quickly; it burned the whole way down. His silhouette danced along half-opened blinds as he paced back and forth on the balcony. Through the thin glass of the door she could hear him talking to himself; talking himself through hypothetical arguments while waving his hands in the air as he rehearsed. She didn’t even know why she was mad anymore. That’s how it was most nights. Something so small would trigger one of them, and then one sarcastic remark after the other and they were fighting again. The only time they ever got along was when they were both drunk, high, and fucking like animals on the closest surface available.

He was contemplating leaving again. Contemplating grabbing the keys, getting in the car, and spending the night in the gutter of some bar. This relationship was toxic. It always had been. His family begged him to stay away from her; the ‘narcissistic bitch’ they called her. Told him she was no good for him and that all she did was use him for money and sex. No matter how many times he tried to tell them that wasn’t true, they still wouldn’t believe him.

She didn’t want or need money. She didn’t want or need the sex. Hell, she barely wanted him. She could do so much better, they both knew it. She was beautiful and smart, and had everything going for her. Why she was sucked into this black hole of a fling, he would never know, and at times that made him feel even worse; knowing that she- in all of her holier-than-thou attitude and narcissistic personality disorder- she was still the prize of the two of them. He was just some cubicle junkie who only amounted to anything because of his last name, not because he cared.

Not because he was good at anything.

He came back inside when he was done smoking his cigarette and feeling sorry for himself. She was sitting at the table waiting for him. That was it, that was all it took; either he left or it was going to be World War III. He knew it by that shrewd look in her eye. The one that said, ‘you say one word to me, and I’m going to hurl this bottle of Jack Daniels at your fucking head’. He pulled the keys from the counter and started making his way back towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” She asked him, standing up from her seat at the table and placing her hands on her hips.

He rolled his eyes and stopped. He really, really didn’t want to argue with her. He was tired, his muscles were sore, and he was so fed up with her shit. When he turned to face her, he sighed internally. She looked so cute standing there like that. Like at any moment she could just jump on him and claw his eyes out.

He hated crazy, but he loved her crazy.

“Well?” She drew out after not getting an answer the first time.

She was really trying to start something, and Aegon was caught in a cross hair; if he answered her, they fought. If he didn’t answer her, they still fought. If he left, they’d fight when he came back. Either way, there was going to be a fight.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” He yelled, knowing that everyone in their apartment complex could hear him. “Away from you and you’re fuckin’ voice that’s like nails on a goddamned chalkboard.”

All he had to do was say ‘I’m leaving’. He didn’t have to add the comment about her voice. But back-handed remarks were his thing, and he really couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it really mattered.

“Oh my voice is like nails on a chalkboard, huh?” She replied. “You aren’t saying that when you’re asking me to scream for you in bed! And trust me, the only reason I would be screaming is in laughter because your dick is so fucking small!”

She was in his face now, not intimidated at all by the way his eyes darkened. His fists were balled. He had hit her before a few times, and he always felt bad about it. But Gods, she was so annoying.

“What are you going to do? Hit me?” She egged on.

He was seriously thinking about it. Shut her up for the rest of the night. She might even pack her bags and stay with someone else for a few weeks. But he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. Instead he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into him, crashing his lips on to hers. It didn’t take long at all for her to wrap her legs and arms around him.

They wasted no time; Aegon pushed her up against the wall, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled her panties to the side, and spit in his hand to wet the tip of his cock before he pushed himself into her. She gasped, fistfuls of his hair. Her mouth hung open as he pounded into her, slamming her up against the wall with each thrust. Her heavy moaning in his ear only added to the built up frustration that he needed to take out on her. She nibbled at his ear lobe, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” he groaned in between thrusts.

Aegon pulled out of her and forced her down to her knees, shoving his wet cock into her mouth. She sucked the taste of herself off of him with pleasure before he pulled himself out and slapped the tip against her cheek, exploding on her face. He stood there for a minute, riding out the climax as she licked the dripping seed from his shaft. Then, she looked up at him from her knees; the sticky white liquid covering her face as she smiled. 

This was why he couldn’t stay away.

She stood up, adjusting her clothes, and wiped the semen off of her face with the t-shirt she had pulled off of him. Aegon fixed his pants and plopped down on the couch.

“Grab me another beer, would you?” He asked after a yawn.

She resisted the urge to laugh out loud. “Get your own fucking beer.”

“You’re so ungrateful!” He replied.

“I’m ungrateful?” She started. “I fucking cook your meals, wash your fucking clothes, do your fucking dishes! And what do you do? Nothing!”

She suddenly realized why she was mad at him in the first place.

“Here we go again,” He replied with a groan. “For the last time, I’m never fucking here!”

[cevansbrat0007]

Southern Comfort

Summary: A day after your ex-boyfriend's unexpected return, you show up on Ari's doorstep intending to ask for a little time. Too bad your grumpy bounty hunter isn't feeling particularly charitable.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Some Angst, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Arguments, Angry Sex, Discussions of Ex-boyfriends, Mentions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Manhandling, Pushing, Discussions of Female Virginity (mentioned), Edging (mentioned), Restraints (mentioned), Brief Allusions to Rape/Forced Sex, Allusions to DubCon/NonCon, Primal Play (mentioned), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Takes place directly after the events in Case of the Ex, but it is not the sequel. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

“Alright, now. Remember to breathe, sugar.” You mutter as you adjust the skirt of your floral sundress. “You’ll be in and out quicker than a hiccup.” 

Although the day had cooled down considerably since this morning, the temperature still sat at an uncomfortable 88℉. Which therefore meant that you were uncomfortable. Even after a shower and a change of clothes. 

You take one last moment to fluff your curls and reapply your lip gloss before reaching inside your car to pull out a ceramic baking dish, complete with a lid. And then you begin the quiet trek up the concrete walkway. Your stomach is in knots by the time you reach the front door to ring the bell. 

Your teeth begin to worry your bottom lip while you wait, part of you wishing that you could just sit the dish on the front porch and make a beeline for your vehicle. But your Mama hadn’t raised you to be a coward, and neither had your beloved Uncle. God rest their souls. 

So you had to see this through. And once you were done you would head over to your shop and through yourself into work until the sun came up. There was already a crispy chicken salad waiting for you on the passenger seat, accompanied by some reduced fat buttermilk ranch dressing.

Your stomach growls at the thought of food. It was a subtle reminder that you hadn’t eaten much lately, save for the wrap Ari had brought by yesterday. Now that you’d devoured, right along with the chips, salad, and the cookie – all of which had been delicious.

But when it had come time for you to call him that evening as you were locking up, for some reason, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it. Because if he answered, you knew that he was gonna want the skinny on your ex-boyfriend. And you really weren’t prepared to dive into all of that yet.

So you’d decided to shoot Ari a text message after you’d already arrived home for the night, letting him know that you were safe and that you needed time to process the day’s events. After that was done, you’d powered off your phone, content to simply be alone with your thoughts.

And you had yet to turn it back on. Sometimes a girl needed her space.  

In that same vein, you also hadn’t bothered with opening the store today. You’d been a little paranoid about receiving a pop-up visit from Ari or Mason. Or, worse yet, both of them at the same time. Again. 

Seeing him like that had really done a number on you. He’d looked so good standing there in your shop with that same boyish grin of his. It had immediately transported you back to high school, in the most confusing way possible. But at least it hadn’t stirred up any romantic feelings.

In your opinion, Mason Prescott was a lot like double frosted chocolate mud cake. Pretty to look at, but indulge in more than a couple bites and it was liable to make you sick to your stomach.   

Just as your mind begins going down the rabbit hole of comparing problematic men to desserts, the front door is wrenched open to reveal a stern-looking Ari Levinson. He’s barefoot, wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and light gray t-shirt. 

The two of you stand there in silence for a moment, neither of you saying a word. He doesn’t need to communicate the fact that he was worried about you, not when it’s written plain as day all over his gorgeous face. But now, at roughly 6:30 in the evening, he wasn’t just worried. He was downright pissed. 

At you. Oops.  

“Good evening.” Comes your shy greeting once it eventually becomes too much. “I…I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d drop by.” You offer up a lame shrug, wishing that you would’ve practiced your speech a little more before you’d gotten out of your car. 

Ari grunts in response, the seemingly ever-present tick in his jaw growing more pronounced with each passing second. And you can feel your confidence taking a dive as a result. 

“I also wanted to tell you that I was sorry for kicking you out the way I did yesterday. And for texting instead of calling. I was a little ruffled, but I could’ve been a bit more gracious about things.” You force yourself to take a steadying breath. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Alright.” That’s all you get from him. And now that tempting mouth of his pressed into a thin, firm line. Which did not bode well for you.

“I would’ve called you from the shop, but I decided not to open today so…” Your body sways in the wind as a gentle breeze picks up. Boy did that air feel good on your skin. 

“I know.” Ari replies flatly. “Drove by your house earlier and saw your car. That’s the only reason I hadn’t filed a missing person’s report with Marlon Timmers down at the station.” 

“Oh…”

And that was your confirmation right there. Yes, you had indeed worried this man. Which meant that he’d felt the need to go looking for you. If only to make sure that you were safe. And that a certain Prescott wasn’t taking up real estate in your driveway.     

“I made you somethin’.” Pasting on a smile, you present him with the covered dish you’d brought along with you. “As part of my apology.”  

The bounty hunter hesitates briefly before accepting your offering with a sigh, followed by a quiet “thanks”. And then he turns on his heel to head deeper into the house. Unsure of what else to do, you decide to follow behind him, closing the door as you go.

Besides, you’d much rather continue this discussion indoors anyway.  

“It’s a cobbler.” You find yourself babbling as you both make your way into the kitchen. “A peach cobbler. It’s kind of my specialty, right up there with my brambleberry pie. The secret is a splash of bourbon, plus a dash of vanilla.” 

For some reason unbeknownst to you, your nervous admission stops him dead in his tracks.

“You brought me a…” He trails off as he sucks in a breath, his brain kicking into overdrive. “Is this – is this a breakup cobbler?” You wince when he unceremoniously drops your beloved baking dish onto the counter.

Your eyes go wide at that, his unexpected accusation leaves you bristling. As if you had it in you to be so callous. If you were breaking up with him then you would’ve brought along muffins. Or perhaps a nice iced lemon blueberry loaf.

You had simply come to apologize, and maybe ask for a little time. Nothing too crazy, mind you. Only a few days, really. Maybe week tops. 

“Oh, simmer down now, Beast.” You sniff, clutching your purse under your arm. Clearly he was still smarting about yesterday’s turn of events. But even so, there was no reason for you to conduct yourself as anything but the proper gentlewoman you were raised to be. 

“Duchess, I swear to God….” Ari’s fingers go to the bridge of his nose as he visibly prays for patience. Meanwhile, you’re busy stewing over his ill-treatment of your precious cookware. “If this is a breakup cobbler, I’m gonna spank your ass so hard you won’t sit comfortably for a week.”

That rat bastard! Heat floods your face as your mouth goes slack. Ari Levinson had officially gone too far, which meant that  it was up to you to set him straight.   

“You are unbelievable!” You screech, smacking his chest with your handbag. It feels good, so you do it again. You’re even poised to do it a third time before it’s snatched from your grasp. 

“Oh yeah, baby?” The agitated bounty hunter rakes his fingers through his hair, yanking at the chestnut strands. “Then how come I don’t hear you denying it?”  

“I came here trying to do something nice.” You hiss through gritted teeth. “And to apologize for–”

“For what? Trying to fly away on me? Again?” 

Ari reaches for you, although you’re quick to slap his hand away. With the way you were feeling right now, you were liable to bite him.

“You came here to apologize for being an ass. I’m supposed to say "no big deal". Next comes the part where you ask for space, because you’re confused and you’re scared.” He finishes with a shrug before turning his body so that he can fish something out of a drawer. Seconds later you see that it’s a spoon. “Add that to the fact that you’re falling for me–”

“Oh, fuck you!” You interrupt with a snarl, slamming your hand down on the counter. But your gaze remains trained on his chosen piece of cutlery. 

“I have a feeling we’ll get to that.” Ari jams the utensil into the center of the cobbler. “But first…” He scoops up a hearty helping, grinning at the crumbly bits of crust and juicy peach before raising the spoon to his lips and devouring it in one swift bite. “Mmm. Not bad, baby.” 

Not bad? You inwardly seethe. Not BAD? What that man had in his possession was an award winning cobbler. It was better than excellent. It was fucking legendary. 

Your man chews animatedly, making a show of savoring the decadent mouthful. “Maybe a little heavy on the nutmeg. But as I was saying…” He sucks a stray drop of filling off his thumb. “Between the sudden appearance of our good buddy, Mace, and you being overwhelmed about this thing we’ve got goin’ on…I reckon that you’re feeling a tad out of sorts. Am I right?”

The gall of this man! A red haze colors your vision as his words wash over you, filling you with a slow churning sense of rage. Just who the fuck did Ari Levinson think he was? 

“My cobbler has the perfect amount of cinnamon and nutmeg, you–you uncultured jackass!” You grit out through clenched teeth. 

You could tolerate a lot from folks in this town. But one thing you absolutely would not abide by was someone bad mouthing one of your made-from-scratch confections. You baked with learned skill, as well as passion. It was the one thing you felt you were genuinely good at. 

Which meant that you were about to choke some sense into the gorgeous man standing in front of you. 

“Yeah?” He shovels another spoonful into his mouth. “Then how about you stick around and fight with me about it instead of running off like I know you want to?”

The smug turd gobbler has the nerve to smile at you before helping himself to more gooey, peachy, crumbly goodness. Little did he know that you were this close to slapping him hard enough to make his ears ring.

He wouldn’t even have to stoop down low for you to do it. You were so mad you could practically feel yourself about to levitate.   

“No, thank you. In fact, I think I’ll be going.” You tell him, your tone rife with disdain. “Now hand me my purse and return my sub-par cobbler and I will be on my way.” 

The damned bag had your keys inside it. Next time you left the house intending to make amends you were going to wear something with pockets!

“No.” 

“Excuse me?”  

“Ya know what, Bird?” Ari tosses the spoon into the sink with a clatter before crossing his burly arms over his broad chest. “I’ve just realized that I’m not feeling all that charitable at the moment. Plus, you didn’t say please.” He tacks on the last bit with a cheeky wink.

“Meaning?” 

He has no idea that you’re fantasizing about keying the side of his precious Nissan Titan right now.   

“Meaning that we can either stand here all night sizin’ each other up.” He lets out a resigned sigh. “Or we can take a seat on the couch, or maybe curl up in bed, and talk about what’s got you ready to run for the hills.”

“And I take it there is no option three?” Your hands settle on your hips as you glare back at him. 

“You and that damned option three.” Ari chuckles under his breath, not finding a damn thing amusing. “Well sweetheart, option three involves me cuffing you to my bed and edging the fuck out of that sweet pussy until you tell me whatever it is I wanna know.”

“There isn’t anything to know, Ari!” You all but shout, feeling every bit as frustrated as you sound. “I haven’t seen Mace in damn near five years!”

“Be that as it may, there was still something about his visit that shook you, Bird.” He goes to reach for you again, only to have you dance away. You absolutely did not want to be touched right now. “I saw it then and I see it now.” 

“And if I were to tell you that it’s not a big deal?”

Instead of immediately responding, Ari cocks his head to the side, taking a moment to study you. “Then I would tell you that you’re lying. And not just to me. But to yourself.”  

You look away, temporarily at a loss for words as you wrap your arms around your middle. A middle that was a little too soft for your liking, regardless of how often you seemed to be counting calories these days. 

“I gave him my heart. And he smashed it into a million glittering pieces the first chance he got. I mean, I guess I can’t be too mad since I’m the one who gave him the hammer. Not once, but twice.” You spit as you feel hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. “But even so, do you honestly think I’d be stupid enough to let him do it a third time?”

“Bird.” Your nickname falls from his lips like a soft, urgent plea. But you don’t hear it. Not really.

“I was the fat girl who fell for the jock. Not really all that notable, I suppose. Except in this case that jock just so happened to be the golden boy of Bell’s Creek.” Your arms fall wide before dropping them down at your sides in defeat. “But I didn’t care. Because I was stupid and in love and a fucking virgin when he–” You abruptly cut yourself off when you realize the direction your thoughts are heading. 

You’d already said more than enough. 

“When he what?” Ari’s voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You rise up on your toes as you search for an opening to snag your purse.

Because you were through talking about this. It was time for you to head back home, crawl under the covers, and hide there until you could summon the strength to bake every single dessert you could possibly think of using every last bit of the ingredients you had stocked in your kitchen.

And then you would eat them all until you either accidentally gave yourself diabetes or you finally exploded.

“Please talk to me.” This time when Ari takes a step towards you, you beat back a hasty retreat. And you don’t stop moving until you reach his front door. “C’mon, baby, wait!” 

But you didn’t want to wait. What you needed was to be alone. The plan had been to drop off the cobbler, make your amends, and then peace the fuck out. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d allowed Ari Levinson to get under your goddamned skin the way only he could. 

So, you’d walk home and send someone to pick up your car later. If you left now, you’d make it back before the sun had even begun to set. Besides, it wasn’t like you couldn’t use the exercise. 

A firm hand on your arm halts your movements, hauling you backwards against the solid wall of his chest…

Which is when you finally snap.

“I did not give you permission to touch me!” You hiss, turning in the embrace and shoving at him with all your might. However, you know that the only reason the bounty hunter actually lets you go is because you had the element of surprise.

Because holy shit! What the fuck had you just done? 

“Woah, woah.” Ari quickly backs away, his palms raised in surrender. “It’s okay, Bird. I pushed you, so you pushed me. It’s okay. It’s all okay, sweetheart.” You can tell he’s doing his damnedest to keep his tone calm and even so as not to spook you further. 

You give him a shaky nod, feeling more than a little embarrassed by your inability to control your emotions. 

“I’m so–sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” You manage to eek out, even as your bottom lip starts to tremble. You scrub your hands over your eyes as you fight back tears. “There is no excuse.” You tell him, keeping your head bowed as your knees feel wobbly. 

What an awful mess you’d made of this whole thing. Truly.

“Fuck!” He exhales softly, clearly unsure about whether or not it’s okay to touch you. “I don’t want us to end things like this, baby. I really don’t.” Now there’s a note of desperation in his tone that wasn’t there just a few seconds earlier. 

Ari goes quiet, weighing his options as he contemplates the best way forward. At least that’s what you assume he’s doing, since you’re too preoccupied with wishing the earth would swallow you up where you stood. 

“I’d really like to hold you. But I don’t want to scare you. So you’re gonna have to come to me.” He opens his arms to you then, just as you’re ready to fall apart at the seams. “But – and I can’t stress this enough – only if you want to.”

This time you go time without hesitation. And just like always, your man is right there to catch you before you shattered. 

“I’m so sorry I hurt you!” Your words come on the heels of a muffled sob as you cling to him, pulling his body closer to your own as the feelings of remorse threaten to overwhelm you.

“Shh, little Bird. Shh.” Ari murmurs as he lifts you into his arms and carries you into the living room. Once there, he settles you both on the couch, tucking your smaller frame into his own.

He whispers soft, sweet kisses along the damp skin of your brow as he tangles his fingers in your curls to massage your scalp. “I got you. I got you. I got you.” He tenderly rocks you back and forth while he waits for you to calm down.

“Please don’t leave. I swear I didn’t mean it.” You’re babbling now and you know it, but it does manage to earn you a relieved grin from your man. 

“Nobody’s goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Not you. And definitely not me.” He cups your jaw, gently forcing you to meet his gaze. “We’re just fine, you and me. I’m a big boy. You surprised me, maybe. But you didn’t hurt me.” 

“But I shouldn’t have –” You begin, your eyes blurring with a fresh wave of tears.

“Listen to what I’m saying.” Ari interjects, his tone containing just the right amount of authority to get your attention. “I’m a big boy, baby. I’m talking 6’3, 220 lbs on a good day. I ignored your body's cues, okay? I'm the one who failed to properly read your warning signs and I got in your space – so please hear me when I say that a pretty large piece of this was my fault too.”

You shake your head “no”, because it should go without saying that Ari would never hurt you. At least not on purpose, and never physically. And yet…

“Baby, you went a little primal is all.” He reaches for your hand to press a kiss to your clammy palm. “That’s all that happened. No harm, no foul. We can even play that way one day, if you’re interested. But not unless we’re both on the same page.”

You weren’t quite sure what he was talking about, but for now you’d simply choose to go with it. Because right now you’d need the kind of comfort and reassurance that only your man could provide. 

Needed him to ground you when you felt like you might float away.

“Okay, but I’m still sorry.” You sniffle, gingerly wiping your nose on his t-shirt. Not that he minds overly much.

“I’m sorry too. Not just for pushing you how I did, but for disrespecting your cobbler. Which is divine by the way.”

Now that has you perking up almost immediately. “But you said –”

“Little Bird, I don’t know shit about what goes in a peach cobbler. My nutmeg crack was a shot in the dark meant to piss you off. I figured once I got you talking, you’d spill your guts, I’d take you to bed where you me me promise not to shoot your ex, and then…” Ari trails off as your words from earlier come flooding back to him.

Not wanting to start down this road again, you wrap your arms around his neck before slanting your mouth over his. Your tongue strokes along his plump bottom lip, seeking entrance. Ari responds without hesitation as he buries both hands in your hair, drawing you closer to him.

Right now you needed this man more than you needed air in your lungs. “Please.” You whimper, shifting your body so that you’re now straddling his hips, your legs coming to rest on either side of his thickly muscled thighs. “Please, Ari. I need you. Don’t make me wait.” You nip at his lips, before trailing a fiery litany of kisses along the curve of his jaw. 

A part of your mind screams at you to slow down, to explain yourself. But you quickly silence it once Ari’s skilled hands abandon your curls in favor of your chest. Gripping the bodice of your dress, he manages to rip the lightweight fabric in two on the first try.

“Fuck, baby! Promise we’ll talk after.” He snarls, more to himself than you.

Meanwhile, you eagerly reach behind you to undo the clasp of your bra. You both let out a groan once you finally rid yourself of the garment, your heavy breasts spilling into his waiting palms. Of course he wastes no time before drawing a pouting nipple into his warm, wet mouth - sucking deep. His expert tongue takes turns teasing and laving at the pebbled tip as wetness pools between your thighs.

“After.” You hurriedly reassure him as you pull away long enough to unfasten his jeans. It winds up taking the both of you working together to free his impressive erection from his boxers, nearly sobbing with relief when it's done.

Because you needed him inside you now. 

Needed him to fill you up just right. Wanted him to go so deep that you didn’t have to worry about thinking anymore. All you wanted to feel was him moving inside you. You couldn’t wait to feel that sweet burn you’d come to crave as he stretched you out with his perfect cock. Couldn't wait for him to claim your body with each slow, delicious stroke of his hips. 

Breathing heavy, your hand fists itself around him as you guide his length to your waiting pussy – your panties having been previously torn to shreds. Right now you were so fucking wet for your hunter that you could feel your slick practically dripping down your thighs. 

“God, yes!” You slowly lower yourself on top of him, welcoming your man into tight, velvet heat. And you relish the feel of nearly being split in two as you begin to ride him.

Ari’s head tips back in bliss, offering you his throat as you use him for your pleasure. “Doin’ so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ tight.” He grits out as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as if your life depended on it. And in some ways it did. 

He slaps your ass, spurring you on. “Harder!” You growl as your teeth graze along the shell of his ear, loving the rough way he squeezes your globes as you work yourselves into a frenzy. “Just like that, Beast. Don’t let go!”

You bury your face in his neck as stars begin to dance behind your eyes at the same time as that invisible coil tightens in your belly, threatening to snap and send your hurtling into oblivion. But you wouldn't go without your man.  

Not without Ari.

“Never, baby.” Without warning, he flips your bodies so that you’re laying on your back, enabling him to take over. He sets a grueling pace – the sounds of slapping flesh and passion-fueled grunts filling the room. “We go together, you and me.” He captures your lips once more, swallowing your heady little cries of pleasure.   

“You and me, Beast! God, yesss!” You keen, as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, your wedge heels digging into the small of his back. “Now fuck me like you mean it.” 

END 

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[infraaa]

KOSA 101

Let’s talk about this. This is something I haven’t seen a lot of in my end, and this new bill may be troubling to not just us as a whole, but content creators. So, this isn’t just exclusive to AO3 anymore. This can go as far as places like Wattpad, Quotev, DeviantArt, and here.

So, to put it bluntly, if you give a fuck, listen.

What is KOSA?

KOSA (Kids Online Safety Act,) is a bill within the United States that was initially created last year with the aim of protecting youth (considerably age 16 and under,) from viewing harmful content online. It has since been updated and reintroduced by Richard Blumenthal (D-CT) and Marsha Blackburn (R-TN.) Now, on surface level, it may seem like this has a good outlook, right? Not in the slightest. This bill, while it may not be passed yet rather introduced, may take an extreme to protect youth and monitor all. Yes, I said monitor.

Not only is NSFW content bound to be flagged, which may totally censor a lot of creators not just on this platform but others, a wider band that is under this new bill is LGBT+ content. According to Senator Blackburn of Tennessee, who is KOSA’s co-author, even education on race discrimination was viewed as “dangerous to kids,” and this soon branches out to race, gender, and sexuality discrimination. This also extends out to anxiety, depression, eating disorders, etc. The bill puts itself in the hands of State Attorney Generals in order for them to use tools of censorship against our rights and safety— not just for the youth, but for adults too, as we may face (giving an example,) hurdles trying to obtain things like legal documents.

How does KOSA work?

KOSA works by acting as a censor and self filter for the internet. By the hands of Attorney State Generals, they ultimately decide what is harmful to kids online. Though, this is a dual edged sword. This would also present the loss of access to information that a large sum of people may not deem dangerous. This again extends outward towards things like depression, substance abuse, etc— complex topics without a clear agreement on causes or solutions. This means that it could also filter, and possibly censor medical information, extending outward to trans medical care as well, which may lead on to silence the transgender community further. This is a very bad thing.

There would still be features like Age Verification, but it also filters legal speech. What I mean by “there will still be features,” to give an example, Tumblr has a tab in settings where you can add your birthday, which in turn verifies how old you are. Tiktok has this feature as well. About filtering legal speech, any kind of media or information that has to do with societal ills that is held on a platform, for example, Tumblr, will enable that platform to be held liable for holding that information. But… it may seem like I’m getting off topic, aren’t I?

So let’s swing back around…

KOSA has the ability to hurt creators on several different platforms. This gives the United States Government unlimited range of control over the internet.

This linktree has at least four different petitions open for you to take action against the bill, and to contact your congressmen and women. There’s also a discord server that’s dedicated to stopping KOSA from passing.

By doing this, you are spreading your voice. You are helping millions of people nationally— creators, artists, writers, everyone.

And finally, don’t just like this post. Reblog it— it helps it spread and gain exposure.

Let’s put an end to KOSA.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 8 : Put Me On A Feeling I've Never Had

Note: Yeahh my bad, I was not supposed to be gone so long. I am so thankful anyone still here, I still love this story, my life just started lifing again you guys. Thank you for the notes, reblogs, comments and messages. Thank you to those who created things in honor of my story. I love interacting with you guys and hearing thoughts (constructively, I'm sensitive). This one is pretty long and Art and Heaven centric, but the full gang will be around in the next chapter. Once again thank you for the love and I hope you're still rocking with me. I was a little rusty but we're getting back into it. Also...there's a nasty scene, MDNI. Grown folks...the song I feel like is playing in the background is Novacane by Frank Ocean. If you guys have any songs you feel like apply to any characters or relationships in my story, please share! Thanks, hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Cheating (fr this time y'all :(), explicit sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), small mention of disordered eating, and some strong language.

Translation: Tanti baci- Many kisses; la mia dolce piccolina - My sweet little girl

Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

2019 (California)

“Let’s go.” Tashi mumbles, tying the thick hotel robe around herself as she shuffles across the floor, forcing her lip not to curl as her scar peeks out from the heavy, white fabric. 

Art releases a deep breath, rolling from his stomach onto his back, determinedly keeping his eyes shut. His large hands blindly feel across the painfully cool, silk, sheets. Painfully empty, silk sheets. The folds slip along his fingers as he feels for a body that’s not there, finally giving up and forcing his eyes open to push off of the soft mattress. It’s not like it was offering him any comfort anyway. 

He pulls on a pair of shorts over his underwear before walking sluggishly to the bathroom to pee  and brush his teeth as he hears the hotel door clicking open, knowing none of them belong to the two people that he wanted to see the most. 

Like a zombie he stalks his way into the suite, the room filled with people Tashi hired in an effort to keep her machine oiled and running. Nutritionist, masseuse, physical therapist, assistant coach. All bustling around, shaking up the protein shake he was allowed to have in lieu of the real, delicious food that he could hear the rest of them murmuring about ordering. 

Art falls into his routine on autopilot, letting his personal trainer stretch his legs as he lies on the floor, stretching his back with the resistance band. All under the scrutiny of Tashi’s watchful eye out of her peripheral vision, focus flickering between Art and the television. He clenches his jaw and tries to drown out the sound of what feels like the 50 thousandth reporter questioning if today’s match was going to be the one that pulls him from his losing streak. 

Maybe they should get off their asses and try to see him on his court. Maybe then they wouldn’t feel so comfortable talking shit behind a desk and a camera while he was working his fucking ass off. 

“Art, relax your shoulders. You’re tense.”

That earns him another glance from Tashi, lips pursed as she pops a strawberry into her mouth.

The blond corrects his form, releasing the air constricting his chest, letting his eyes slip up toward the ceiling in resignation. 

After finishing his warm up stretches Art downs the protein shake, feet dragging lazily along as he stands in the kitchen trying to psych himself up for the day.

Donaldson has taken the win in several tournaments, even making his mark at Wimbledon, several grand slams-

That’s right, Shane. The only thing the player is missing is that elusive U.S. Open. Now, he was a fan favorite prior to a painful injury last spring, but has made a full recovery. And yet, he seems to be in some sort of slump, hopefully with the support of the new team hired by his coach he’ll be able to take the victory today in his match against DeMario-

Tashi slowly brings her gaze upward, raising her eyebrows at Art as he looks at her, dropping the plastic remote back onto the coffee table after muting the tv. Shrugging, she brings her coffee to her lips and sits back against the cushions, crossing her legs and facing the tv again. 

Art’s lips part as he works up the courage to say what he’d wanted to say for the last few months…hell maybe years. 

Before the words can come out, the door beeps again. The only other person with a key card clicks the door open and once again, the words get caught in Art’s throat, it’s too big of a risk. 

“Daddy!”

The little voice has Art’s heart clenching, blue eyes softening immediately as dark curls and big brown eyes come bouncing toward him, he’s bending to catch the girl attempting to fly into his arms, only to be stopped short.

“Hold on baby-” there goes the other voice, the one that makes his heart speed up instead of clench. Heaven lifts the squealing girl, grunting as she hoists her onto her hip, nuzzling her nose into her cheek. “Gotta let Daddy get ready for work right?”

“But I want to play with him.” his little girl whines and he could weep.

“Oh, you will, la mia dolce piccolina. But first, Daddy’s gotta get ready to play some tennis, you remember why?”

“Because he’s the best tennis player in the world.” She squeals. 

Heaven’s lips roll inward as she glances at Art then Tashi and then back to Art, whispering a quiet, “Yep.” Before walking over to the couch, lowering the little girl to Tashi, relishing in her giggles as she dangles her over the back so she can reach Tashi’s face, “Go on, tanti baci.”

Tashi smiles, accepting the uncoordinated kisses the child scatters all over her face, mumbling a thank you against her cheek before sending a meaningful look to Heaven, nodding her head in Art’s direction and turning back to the TV in front of her and turning the volume back up.

Art rolls his eyes, cocking his head back as Heaven makes her way over to him, the little girl squirming in her arms to smack her hands on her father’s cheeks. “Oh, is it my turn?”

“Yes!” She grins, cheeks dimpling in a way that makes him melt.

“Yes?” He cheeses back, blowing a raspberry into her hand and taking in each messy kiss his daughter plants on his skin. “Thank you, princess.” When his daughter releases Heaven adjusts her on her hip, a soft smile on her own face as she watches the interaction. Art stares down at her, watching the smallest of movements she gives him, her eyes flicking up to his and just as quickly turning away. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She says gently, finally giving him her eyes fully, pouty lips just begging for him to take them with his own. 

Art brings his hand to her chin, tilting it up to guide her to meet him halfway, sighing in relief when her eyes flicker closed in anticipation of a kiss. He places his other hand over his daughter’s eyes with a breathy chuckle, inching closer to her lips only to be stopped short by the creek of someone jumping up from the couch. 

“We need to get down to the courts.” Tashi calls, not looking up from her notebook, but clearly disapproving from the look he’d grown to know very well over these last few months. 

Before Art can do anything, Heaven recoils, pulling back again, this time shuffling a couple steps away, ponytail bouncing behind her as she walks between Art and Tashi, not offering either of them so much as a glance. Her voice fades as she disappears towards the kids room in the suite, the last thing he hears is her murmuring into the little girl’s ear. “Should we check on sissy? Maybe we can all order some breakfast before we watch Daddy play.”

“Pancakes!”

“Pancakes? Pancakes are for big girls, are you a big girl who can walk on her own without running to get Daddy?”

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s good, mama, let’s get you some pancakes then.”

Art stares down the hallway, picking at the skin on his fingers as he tries to catch the rest of the conversation. Just a little bit more.

But he couldn’t have more, at least, not right now. He’d have to settle for this little bit he got. So, he scrubs his hand down his face, and grabs one of his shirts and follows Tashi out of the door, biting back a yawn.

“-and the pool.”

“And the pool? That seems like a lot of fun. I wonder when you’re going to practice your reading.” Heaven hums. She holds the door leading to the tennis courts, guiding the little girl through first before adjusting the two year old on her hip, following closely behind. “Don’t run, Aurora, walk to the seat please.” 

Her heels clack as she walks along the gravel walkway, nuzzling her cheek against the toddler in her arms, offering a soft smile to the man who helps her up to the seats reserved for Team Donaldson. Slipping shades onto her face, Heaven ducks her head to hide away from the reporters, suddenly noticing her arrival and snapping some distant pictures before they decide to swarm her. 

Tashi’s mother leans forward, kissing Heaven’s cheek, murmuring in her ear for her to pass her the baby to hold in the row behind her. Heaven crosses her legs, bouncing her knee nervously as she stares at the empty court. She bites her bottom lip until she tastes metal, and then takes to toying with the rings on her finger. 

Today is a big deal. 

The match is nothing serious. Just some young, new player who was probably absolutely pissing themselves because they’re going against the Art Donaldson. But Art’s been…struggling. She doesn’t know what’s causing it, this slump he’s in. They’ve been operating the same way for the past few years, but suddenly, it seems like Art’s checked out. It bothers her to watch him just go through the motions, like a little worker bee with no thoughts or ambition of his own. Heaven can’t stand how uninterested he seems in everything. Tashi seems to think it’s a confidence issue, at least that what she tells Heaven as she rolls her eyes and scrolls through his dropping stats. Art’s mother thinks that he needs to take another break. 

Heaven doesn’t know what she thinks. What she does know, is that Art hasn’t been fucking winning. And when Art doesn’t win, none of them win. 

“Excuse me, miss?”

Heaven jolts from her thoughts, turning to look up at a brunette lady, her hair pulled back into a probably once neat bun, mussed from rushing around, working the event. She adjusts her headset and looks down at Heaven with a smile. “Hi, yes?”

“Team Donaldson wants to see you in their waiting room.”

2007 (California: UCLA Campus)

Art claps as loud as he can as Heaven and the rest of the cast takes their bow. He watches her curtsy deeply with a pretty smile on her face, her chest rising and falling with effort. As she allows the male lead to take her hand and guide her off the stage, her gaze falls to Art, and she fixes him a strange look. 

He knows he probably looks stupid. Art can almost feel how goofy the smile on his face is, but he can’t help it. 2 hours and 15 minutes. That’s how long he got to watch her. She came on and off of the stage but his eyes followed her the whole time. It felt like she was only on stage for 3 minutes. Time suspends while Heaven dances. Art watched her body contort, and her muscles stretch as she moved across the stage. He felt fucking privileged. Like he didn’t deserve that experience. He doesn’t know how Patrick and Tashi could pass up the opportunity to see her like this. The glow on her face as she tells a story with her form. 

Art is startled by a soft nudge to his side, turning to see Heaven’s stepfather giving him a knowing grin. The blond coughs, finally and fully shaking the trance he’d been in and giving the older man his attention. “She’s…she’s amazing.”

“Believe me, I know, my daughter is the brightest star.” Luca pats Art roughly on the arm, his strong hand a stark contrast from his kind smile. “It seems like you know that too.”

Art feels his face heat, eyes briefly darting back toward the stage. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And your friend, Patrick, does he know?”

If this was any other situation he’d cover for his best friend. Art would tell the older man that something happened. Make up some excuse, some lie as to why Patrick wasn’t here to support his girlfriend. But he didn’t have it in him. 

Why should he? Why should he talk his way out of something good? If Patrick actually knew what he had he’d be here. Tashi he can excuse, she’s recovering. But even then, Art can’t think of anything on God’s green earth right now that would have been able to keep him from watching her like this. Or even just the chance to spend time with her. 

"Heaven deserves...everything."

A few minutes pass before Heaven comes barrelling out, leaping into her stepfather’s arms like a little girl, her smile wide as she cuts their brief conversation about the other dancers Art missed while he was in his Heaven induced daze. The elder man grunts as he catches her, showering her in praise and presenting her with the Chanel gift bag before slipping into the conversation that her mother was unable to make it. 

Art enjoyed the warmth of the moment. He basks in the joy on her face, and the hum of jealousy at the fact that he’s not the one causing it is manageable, remaining at a low thrum in his chest. When she finally turns to address him, he straightens, determined not to sound like a fanboy meeting his celebrity crush. 

“Well?” Heaven cheeses up at him, clearly waiting for her ego to be stroked. She rocks on her feet, her hands clasped together behind her back. She’d loosened her hair out of the intricate style she’d performed with, but still stood before him in her final costume, looking like a princess who walked straight from a fairytale. 

“Well…I’m gonna empty my bank account to get tickets for every other night, so-”

“Then I’ll expect to see you there. I’ll put on a good show” She says softly, pushing onto her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Heaven brings her lips to Art’s ear. “Thank you for coming.”

“Um,” Art’s voice cracks as he feels her press against him, not knowing how to embrace her in a way that wouldn’t give away the fact that she literally made him fall in love with her all over again moments before. He settles for rubbing her back, holding her a beat longer than what’s appropriate. He holds himself back from tightening his arms around her when she does pull away, opting to present her with the flowers he’d bought her instead. “I got you these. I  saw they gave you some when you were taking your bow but…these ones are from me.”

Heaven bites her bottom lip glancing behind him and then back into his eyes. “Thank you, Art.”

“Yeah. You were beautiful, Hev.”

Luca’s eyes narrow as he looks between his stepdaughter and the young man he’d watched sitting on the edge of the fabric theater seat the entirety of the performance. He’d expected to be joined by Heaven’s boyfriend tonight. He’d heard from Tashi that she still was not feeling well and his wife made it abundantly clear that until Heaven was part of a company that she deemed professional, she would not be making the effort to attend a performance. 

So when a young man came in looking like he was about to win the lottery, eyes glued to the stage before the performance even began, stars in his eyes and hands gripping the side of the seat, he thought this was him. The older man was relieved, really. He’d love for Heaven to be his baby forever. He’d never take for granted the day that he was taking his niece to the ballet to see Coppélia. She was briefly in town and he’d taken the night off work to take her out while his sister and brother-in-law got a break. He’d gotten the nicest seats in the house to show his niece a good time. 

What Luca hadn’t expected was for a beautiful woman to tap him on the shoulder, her adorable little girl dressed like the doll in the ballet peeking out from behind her leg. The woman had all but demanded that he and his niece trade places with her and her daughter, offering to pay him after pointing out that his niece was asleep and not paying attention anyway. 

He didn’t mind giving up the seat, in exchange for the beautiful woman’s number, and the bright smile on the little girl’s face. She was missing her front two teeth and was barely taller than her mother’s knee, but he watched them. He saw the little girl stare up at the dancers with wonder, sitting with her back straight, imitating their arm movements as the ballet went on. He watched her mother smile down at her, pointing out things the little girl might miss. It wasn’t long before he fell in love with the woman and her daughter, and soon, they were a family. 

But now, the little girl who used to ask her stepdaddy to twirl and lift her like the big girls he took her to see was on stage where she belonged. And there was a boy. A man. Here, mesmerized by her. He watched the love in the boy’s eyes in real time. 

The only problem was that he wasn’t him. He wasn’t the boy who was supposed to be here, on the edge of his seat, watching his little Stellina shine. No, he was a friend. 

Maybe it wasn’t fair to be rooting for the boy in front of him when he hadn’t met the boyfriend. Maybe he owed him a chance to prove himself too. But one thing he and Beatrice had instilled in Heaven, trait that she and her Tashi share, is knowing you have to earn the things you want. Tonight is the first big night of many for Heaven. But, it was the first. She deserved support. As long as Luca was alive she would have it, but he’s not naive. He knows he won’t be enough anymore. And it all boils down to one thing. Art was here. Patrick was not. 

So, if he invited Art to dinner, it was because he’d earned a seat.

“I could have been a pro, that’s all I’m saying.” 

Utensils clang over the music and chatter of the restaurant Heaven and her dad had guided him to. Apparently, they went to it every time Mr. Whitlock visited Heaven at school. It’s an American Steakhouse and Brewery. Fancy enough that he couldn’t come in sweats, which Patrick would have hated. But not so fancy that they had to be all stiff and uncomfortable like at the restaurants his dad normally drags him to.

“Papino, please-” Heaven whines, dramatically dropping her head into her hands. 

“I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Art.” The older man waves his hand, dismissing his daughter playfully. Leaning in conspiratorially to Art. “My daughter is closed minded, but she is not the only athlete in our family. If my football career would have taken off-”

“You see!” She points, sitting up pointing at her father. “Football” she mocks with a thick italian accent. “Ask him where he was born, Art.”

“It’s not about the birth place!”

The blond chuckles at the exchange, enjoying the banter between father and daughter. He wishes he and his dad had this. Jokes. Familiarity. Heaven softens around him. He remembers what she looked like around her mom. Tense. Nervous. Insecure. And around everyone else, it was like she held herself apart. She stays where its safe, next to Tashi, in their own world, keeping everyone else out. Just the two of them plotting their world domination together. Art often found himself feeling jealous, like he was on the outside begging to be invited in. But right now she’s open. Showing him things he;d never gotten to see from her before. “Where are you from Mr. Whitlock.”

“Luca.” The older man corrects, taking a sip of his water. “And italy-”

Art feels a foot brush his leg under the table and whips his head to look at Heaven, willing his face not to turn pink and for his dick not to get hard as her lips mouth to him ‘New York’. 

“You see this? Arthur, when you have daughters, don’t spoil them, they’ll turn into brats, like my Heaven.”

“A brat? I’m not a spoiled brat. Art, am I spoiled?” she asks, leaning against his arm, fixing her big brown eyes at him. 

Art could fucking melt.

“Don’t bat your eyelashes at him and confuse the boy, here” Luca reaches over and musses his daughter’s hair, earning a laugh and a whine that he’d pay if he messed it up. “Answer now.”

“Hev…”

“Art, no.” She pouts.

“I’m not gonna lie to your dad, you’re a princess, Hev, it’s just what you are. Pretty girls like you tend to get what they want.” He jokes, pinching her cheek. Heaven swats his hand away and crosses her arms, mumbling about them ganging up on her.

“Sorry,” A voice calls from beside the table. It’s their waitress, carrying the desserts they’d ordered. “I didn’t want to interrupt, your chocolate mousse, sir.” The waitress places Luca’s plate down in front of him and he naturally sighs as his daughter’s eyes automatically shift away from it to her glorified fruit cup. He wishes she’d let herself indulge, but he knows from experience. Heaven will not bend. Her discipline will not break. Even as she eyes Art’s strawberry cheesecake, a snack that happens to be her favorite. 

The older man doesn’t know what he’s expecting but it’s certainly not what he sees. He watches the blond young man push the plate toward Heaven, and as he suspects, she pushes it back, the glass is pushed back and forth until the boy shrugs, placing his hands in his lap, as if declaring that if she didn’t have any, he wouldn’t either. Another thing his daughter hates. Waste. 

Heaven rolls her eyes, scooping a small piece of the creamy dessert onto her spoon and taking it into her mouth, causing the boy to grin with victory. Victory that is short lived and replaced with flushed embarrassment when she grabs his chin, taking a much larger scoop and pushing it into his mouth with the same spoon. Luca can’t help but join his daughter in laughing as the boy sputters trying to swallow the hunk she fed him. But he also can’t help but notice her bringing his water to his lips, rubbing his back and thanking him for a piece of his cake. The cake that he didn’t touch again, the grimace he’s hiding clearly revealing that he doesn’t like strawberry cheesecake and that his decision may not have been a coincidence after all. 

As they close out their meal, he thinks back on what he witnessed that night. Heaven’s beautiful dancing had definitely been the highlight. But as his daughter and the boy who had stars in his eyes as he looked at her spoke about everything and nothing he had a feeling that he was witnessing something even more rare.

And this would not be the last time he saw Art Donaldson.

“He likes you.” Heaven singsongs, strolling into the doorway as Art holds it open, following closely behind her. “My dad.”

“Thank God, I was worried about that.” Art breathes, letting her lead him to her dorm room door. 

When she reaches her unit Heaven turns, leaning against the door and looking up at the blond man in front of her. “Why? Pressure’s not on you, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend.” Art just raises his eyebrows, nodding his head. “Too soon?”

“Uh, yeah,” he breathes, dropping his head slightly. “Pretty sure it’ll always be too soon.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He forces himself to ask her the question burning in his mind, looking at the floor. “Have you…have you heard from him?”

“No. But, I’m pretty sure I’m not the girlfriend he’s worried about losing.” She shrugs.

“He’s just…if…Patrick’s a fucking idiot, alright?” Art needs her to understand it’s not her. She’s not the problem. He would do anything for her to get the only issue is that Patrick isn’t right for her. He can’t handle her looking up at him with sad eyes like those. Her gorgeous rose petal lips should only ever be spread into a smile. Leaning his forehead to hers, Art lets his eyes slip closed in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna be a really shitty friend right now, so if you really don’t want to hear it, you should go in your dorm and I’ll drive back to school and kick myself for fucking up with you again.”

“Art, you promised-”

“You wouldn’t have to wonder if you were with me. I meant what I said. I’d be at every show, every rehearsal, fucking, I’ll sit in a room and watch you twirl for fun if you want me to. I want to make you happy.”

“Art, what do you want me to do?” she whines, literally stamping her foot on the carpet, still not moving, sharing his air. 

“Let me show you how good it could be.”

“You want to sleep with me-”

“I’m in love with you.” he sighs. “I’d do anything. Let me show you.”

“You should stop saying that.” Heaven says wearily, running her hand through blond curls. “I’m starting to believe you.” 

He sighs again, leaning into her hand and scanning her features intently, waiting and watching for a sign that this is going in his favor. He just wants to be with her. Take care of her. He’d be so good at it. She just has to let him try. 

And then a miracle happens. 

Art’s brain blows a fuse as he feels Heaven’s lips against his. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s tasted her. He wills himself to take it slow, but as her lips part for him he finds himself groaning and wrapping his arms around the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up against the door. Being with Heaven feels like being an addict getting a fix of their favorite drug. It’s euphoric. A high he can chase with all his might but the only thing that got him to true ecstasy what having her. 

He’s almost scared of what making love with her would do to his psyche. 

Patrick would call him a pussy for saying it that way. But that’s the only thing that he could conceive of calling what he was about to do. Or, the only thing he could say that would be applicable and not sacreligious. 

Heaven gasps as the cool air of her room hits her as she grips Art’s shoulders to keep her balance as he carries her in. The sound of her keys hitting the floor is drowned out by her attempts at breathing steadily and what could only be described as whimpers coming from Art as he bites and sucks at her skin. She hadn’t expected him to be the type to like to leave marks. But here the usually gentle man was, manhandling her onto her champagne, silk bed set, head buried in her neck like a fucking vampire, large hands switching between shoving up her shirt and tugging down her pants.

She scrambles to pull at his shirt, squeaking out the word, “Off.” as his lips encase one of her nipples. 

He listens immediately, reaching one hand back and whipping his own shirt off before kissing a wet trail down her body, kissing her hip bone, tucking a finger under her underwear. Art pauses then, waiting for confirmation that he could continue. He looks like a wounded puppy when Heaven sits up, legs effectively closing to him. 

The somber look is immediately traded for one of shock and then pleasure when she guides him to sit in the bed, and climbs into his lap, her hand unzipping his shorts and pushing into his boxers. “Fuck, Heaven-”

“I figure, I should thank you. For showing up for me today,” she whispers into his ears, relishing in the noises he makes as one of his hands grips the blanket below them and the other buries into her hair. “and any other day since I met you. I do appreciate you, Art. You matter to me.”

Art’s desperate, lifting his hips each time her hand moves up, leaning into her as she whispers in her ear. “I…fuck it feels so good.”

“Yeah? Do I make you feel good? Is that why you wanna be with me so bad, handsome?” she hums, squeezing the tip and trying not to react to his tightened grip when she does.

“I wanna be with you because I…fucking oh fuck, I fucking love you.” he breathes, chest rising and falling, his abs flexing with effort. “Fuck, let me see your face.”

“But I wanna keep talking to you.” Heaven says, letting her lips brush the skin of his ear. “You’re attracted to me, Arthur. You want to fuck me. That’s all. S’okay.”

Art’s eyes squeeze closed and he pulls her even closer to him. “No, I love you. Even if I can’t fuck you.”

“Really?” She twists her wrist and changes the pressure in her grip.

“Unh, fuck, no I love you, but I need to fuck you.” He whines.

 Art drags his hand from the back of her neck to cup her jaw, guiding Heaven to his lips. He kisses her deeply. She can’t describe it. But she feels it in her toes. She can feel the intensity. This wasn’t what she was used to. This kiss felt like something she’d never experienced before. It felt like begging. Like he was pleading with her to understand. He needed her to get what he means, what he feels. When he says anything he means anything. When he says he loves her he means it. 

And for the first time, even in her own mind, Heaven acknowledged that she wanted him to know she felt the same way. 

So when he pulls away to give her air, she chases his lips, capturing them again and getting another taste of the same intensity he’d given her before. “I really tried, you know. To stay away from you.” 

“Don’t stay away from me, I need you.” He breathes against her lips, his own dragging along them as they refuse to take any more space from each other. Art nudges her nose with his softly, dropping his hands to her waist. “Heaven, please.”

“What do you want me to do, Art?” Heaven asks, pulling him from his pants. Her eyes locked on him. He’s blurry in her swimming  vision, but she can see him build the courage to tell her what he needs from her, taking a deep breath.

“Tell me you love me too.” he says against her lips, holding her down against him, rocking her hips to set a pace with his hands. “Tell me, baby. Please.”

“I love you.” 

“Again.”

“I fuck I love you.”

“I love you. Again.” he groans, guiding her a little faster, sliding one hand down and tugging at her underwear again. This time she pushes up onto her knees, separated by his thighs, she helps him get the fabric off of her body as his gaze follows her upward, leaning his head back. 

“Arthur.” she says sternly, cupping his cheeks with her hands, “I mean it.”

Art and Heaven share a gasp as she sinks down on him, his strong, calloused hands grip soft, muscled thighs as they share two pecks before pushing their foreheads together, both peering down to where they’re joined together, the only sounds in the room are the slow creaking of the bed and the pants passed between the pair.

Heaven had never felt so close to someone before. She’d never felt this good. All she could think about was Art. Art’s hands on her, squeezing her, pushing her hair out of her face, pressing his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her eyes whenever they slip closed as she rises and falls above him. 

Art’s eyes, that drink her completely. The perfect mix of blue and brown, glossy and locked on her. He always demands her eyes. He’s made it clear he loves when she looks at him, but the way Art looks at her…it’s like he worships her. It’s like he’s worried if he blinks she’d be gone. He makes her feel the most beautiful she ever has.

He’s beautiful. It distracts Heaven to look at him, beneath her, yet somehow demonstrating his strength. Holding her up, guiding her movements with his strong arms, veins running up the muscles that hold her. All while offering her the prettiest slurred moans.

“Fuck, Heaven, you feel so good.”

“So good, squeezin’ me, you need me baby?”

“He didn’t fuck you like he loved you, no one can. Only me, gorgeous. No one can love you like I can.” 

“S’like I’m meant to be inside you.”

As Art’s thrusts grow harsher and deeper, they keep their slow pace. Heaven buries her head in his neck, letting him rock her as she cries into his skin. She feels the pressure building in her lower abdomen.

Art feels her tighten around him and suddenly he’s lucid. The squeeze pulls a cry from him before he’s turning his head to be in her ear. “You gonna cum, sweetheart?”

“Yeah” Heaven whimpers.

“Yeah? Fuck…I’m so glad, baby. Hold on okay?” He lifts her then, earning a squeal from Heaven as he rolls them so he’s above her, just barely hovering as he brackets her with his arms. Art leans down, placing his weight on her before pushing into her again, staring down at her face as she bites her lip, trying to silence her noises. “Please don’t. I fucking dream of those sounds, I wanna hear them. I earned them, I want to hear you.”

“Fuck, Art-”

“Fuck yes, baby, say my name.” He groans, dropping his head to her chest, pressing open mouthed kisses and littering hickeys along her breasts. “”Cum for me.” He pants against her damp skin.

Art has never heard anything more beautiful. He’d never felt anything fucking like it. In the few years he’s spent on this earth, he’d never experienced anything like feeling Heaven Whitlock cum around him. He almost feels sorry for the past version of himself that hadn’t been inside of her yet. If he had known…maybe it was best he didn’t know. He fell in love with her before any of this. Maybe that’s why it felt so good. Maybe it’s just Heaven. Maybe her parents knew what the fuck they were doing when they named her.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to go back to being a person after this. How is he supposed to want to do anything else? He feels like a fucking junkie, worried about when he’d get his next fix. He needs to treat every kiss like it could be his last. Every touch. Every moan. Every thrust. He wants to live here. With her. In her. 

It’s not even over. Art’s still fucking her right now and he’s praying to God that she won’t leave again. She can’t take this from him. She can’t take herself away from him. Her pretty face, crying out for him. Looking at him. Loving him. That’s right baby, eyes on me.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby.” He whines, kissing her deeply as he feels her wrap her legs around him, pulling her closer. “Fuck…I’m-” Art starts to panick, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s almost over. Then she’ll go. She’ll make him go. He wants to be close. Together. He needs more. More time. Please-

“It’s okay, I…feel- I want you to cum, Art.” She presses the sweetest kiss to his nose, wiping dampness from underneath his eyes that he didn’t even realize was there. “I love you.”

It’s the most innocent thing in the world. A little peck on his nose. 

He’s never cum so hard in his life.

“I fucking love you.”

He basically fucking blacked out. She came again…with him. Art could die now, and he’d be fine.  Somewhere in his mind he feels like what they just did altered his life. He knew he wanted Heaven. He knew that when he first saw her. He knew he loved Heaven, he found that out when he saw her dance. But this intensity he feels…he’d do anything for her. Anything she asked. Anything to make her smile. If she’d just stay. 

And despite knowing her for only a couple of months, almost a year now, he knows exactly what she’s about to do. They’ve played this game before.

“So, um,” She clears her throat, rolling out from under him as he releases her, laying on his side and staring as she slips off of the silk sheets and reaches in her drawer, pulling out a white nightgown. Heaven wraps her arms around herself. Closing off. Covering up. “I’m…I’m on birth control so you don’t have to worry that you…”

“Came inside of you?” Art asks, a soft smile on his lips. 

Heaven straightens, eyes narrowing. “Yes. That. And now I have to go pee.” She turns to leave for the bathroom, only to feel a large hand encase her wrist, tugging her back toward the bed.

“Are you really going to pee?”

“Yes, where else would I go?”

He tilts his head, still holding onto her, running his thumb over the back of her hand before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “You have a tendency to run-”

“I don’t run.”

“Hev, baby, you run. When we get close. We were really close just now.”

Heaven sighs, rolling her eyes before climbing back onto the bed, swinging her leg over Art to straddle him again, this time pulling the fabric of the blanket between them. She intertwines their hands that are not already clasped together, and Art lifts his knees for her to rest her back on. “You scare me.”

The blond man stares up at his lover with a confused look. As she sits perched prettily on his lap he can see she’s being earnest. The anxiousness on her face makes his heart hurt. All he could think is that he’d rather hurt himself than hurt her. She has nothing to fear. But he lies quietly. Letting her playfully pin his hands down with her own, leaning down to his face. 

“I don’t get what you’re doing here.”

His brows furrow. “I’m earning you. Like you said.” 

“That game is way over-” Heaven giggles, rolling her eyes. “What happens if you get me and you figure out I’m not worth it.

“That’s not possible. We both know that, Hev. You’re everything. You’re perfect.”

She shakes her head at that, nuzzling his nose again. “Fucking tennis players, man. Toxic ass bunch.” Heaven huffs at herself, shaking her head. “Just can’t leave ‘em alone. You know, Tashi gave me her blessing to hook up with you? Told me to get you out of my system already.”

Oh. 

“Oh.” He steels himself, letting her weight above him be his anchor. He commits this feeling to memory. Just in case she’s about to say this was a fluke. In case this really didn’t mean what it meant to him to her. “Did it work?”

“I just told you I loved you and let you nut in me Arthur.” Heaven deadpans. 

“I know it was awesome.” He smiles goofily, lifting their joint hands and nudging her dimple with his knuckle. 

“Oh, was it awesome?” she mocks, leaning down and biting his cheek lightly, giggling as he finally stops indulging her and rolls her to lay in front of him, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I actually do need to pee.”

“You sure?” he mumbles against her cheek.

“U-T-I.” she hums, patting his head before pushing up, his arms allow her to move this time. Heaven smiles flirtily at him before slipping out of the door. 

Art lies back on her bed and smiles to himself. She’s right. She did say she loved him. He’s never felt more alive than he does right now. Everything about this felt so right and real. Things were how they should be. Art with Heaven. Heaven with Art. 

It was like he was high. Nothing could take it away from him. This moment was perfect. They were in love, and happy and nothing would pierce this bubble they’d created.

Except that damn buzzing.

Art tells himself he thought it could be his or her phone.

They’re both discarded on the floor. It could be anything. An emergency. With her parents. His. Tashi. Anything. 

He tells himself he didn’t even consider it could be Patrick texting her. And when his jaw clenches, and he runs his hands through his own hair hastily before opening the texts, he tells himself that he saw his best friend’s name and wanted to make sure he was okay. And that he showed great restraint when he chose to delete the message he sent Heaven, claiming to miss her and expressing the need to talk. He could’ve thrown the fucking thing against the wall. He could’ve sent the motherfucker a picture of himself in her bed. Instead he protected her feelings.

And sure. He felt guilty. There was definitely a weight on his chest as he placed the phone perfectly back on the floor where it was and climbed back on the bed. 

But Art can admit, it definitely got lighter when Heaven came tiptoeing back into the room, smiling at him, for him, lifting his arm so she could lay with her back to his chest. Twisting her body to kiss him and promising to talk to Tashi. 

And it for fucking sure went away when she bid him goodnight. “Goodnight…I love you.”

It’s time he and Patrick take some space anyway.

“I love you too.”

[neowinestainedress]

happier | lee haechan, lee jeno

title: happier (finale) | part two | masterlist

pairing: lee haechan x oc/fem reader, lee jeno x fem!oc/reader | side member: huang renjun

genre: song-fic, (light) angst, smut, fluff, lovers to exes to ?, friends to fwb to ? | requested and inspired by happier by olivia rodrigo (and 1 step forward, 3 steps back and favorite crime)

warnings: angst, implied past bullying and depression, one mention of vomiting but no mention of an eating disorder, smut, sex with multiple partners (not all together), protected and unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, jealous ‘sex’ (not rough), thigh riding, mainly written from haechan’s pov.

summary: Haechan can’t live with the weight of losing her forever, he can live even less with the fear that she might be happier with Jeno. He wonders if he’s still in time to fix what he tore apart or if he’ll have to pay the price for what he did forever.

words: 20.600k

taglist: @thisbabydontstop @jaehyunsprincess @brightestmark @jellymoonbear @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @alalyahs @soobsfairy444 @hyuckscore @w3bqrl @rbf-aceu @liliansun @donutswithjaminthemiddle @champagne-n-yachts @kundann @kpopwh0r3

@bluegothsizzler @rllymark @reagiie @cherryblossom1818

a/n: can’t believe this series came to an end :( I’m sorry if I made you wait so long for this but I didn’t want to ruin everything by rushing it. Compared to the others it follows the song a bit less since there’s more plot. I hope you’ll like it, but I know there will be divided opinions about the ending so I’m curious to know your opinions! Let me know what you think with comments, reblogs or asks ♡ Also I’m not sure all the tags worked, it kept finding or not finding certain accounts based on where I put them, so I’m sorry if you’re not actually tagged, it did the same with the taglist in the masterlist and I don’t know what’s the problem.

It had been almost a year since they broke up and Haechan should’ve been the last one to feel this way. Yet, here he was. Broken. 

It had taken him time, too much time, to realize what he had lost and all the pain he had put her through, and now the guilt was eating him alive. 

Haechan truly thought he didn’t love her anymore. He thought that his heart was detached from everything that had happened between them and all she used to mean to him. But he was hit by the realization when she started to show up with their group of friends at Jeno’s side. 

It wasn’t even when Jeno started to drag her along again, his doubts started to creep in long before that. It was like Renjun got off seeing him suffer and loved to remind him every second how happy she was without him. His friend was smart, he never brought her up straightforwardly, not while he was talking directly to him. But Renjun kept saying how happy she was, how more beautiful she looked, how it looked like she had found peace. 

For a while, he thought Renjun was lying, that she couldn’t be happier without him. But apparently, she was. 

Haechan started to suspect something was going on between her and Jeno when his best friend started spending his day on the phone, always with a dumb smile on his face. And Haechan wanted to fight him so badly but he knew he had no right to get in between their happiness. 

Haechan had fucked it up. And there was nothing he could do to fix it. 

He could only sit in silence and try to don’t boil in anger every time she sat on top of Jeno when they hung out all together. 

“You okay?” He could hear Jeno whisper, his chin resting on her shoulder as he smiled at her. And Haechan felt a twinge in his chest when she looked down at him, nose scrunching up, smiling at him and telling him she was fine. 

That was his place. 

Or maybe not, because now that he thought about it, he never asked her if she was okay or if his friends were overwhelming. Now that he thought about it, he never let her sit on his lap, and caressed her hands, because he couldn’t stand being so close in front of his friend, too busy thinking about their judgment than thinking about loving her. 

Haechan couldn’t help but be tormented by them. She truly was shining, and Jeno was so sweet with her, he couldn’t stop wondering if she had forgotten about him and what had been between them. 

And when their eyes met for a second and he couldn’t see her familiar gaze anymore, he wondered; did it mean she forgot about him? 

And Jeno probably spent days telling her she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and that was what she deserved. But Haechan couldn’t stand the idea that she told the same to him. 

He couldn’t stand that she did the same things she used to do with him. 

She loved seeing Jeno dancing. From the stage, Haechan couldn’t help but look at her only to be disappointed because her attention wasn’t on him. 

And when the show ended she ran to Jeno and not to him. They didn’t kiss, not on the lips, at least, but the way she hugged him tight and kissed his cheek was enough to make his heart fall on the floor and let an elephant step on it. 

She complimented his smile way too much. And Haechan could only think about their evenings spent together, when she would lay on top of him and poke his cheeks, kissing his lips softly before telling him how much she loved his smile. He couldn’t believe that maybe she was doing the same with Jeno, that she was tangled up in someone’s bed and that was all his fault. 

Every time they were together it got a bit worse, they were always closer with each passing day. Physically with light touches. And mentally, finishing each other sentences, and laughing at the same jokes. 

It shouldn’t have fazed him, but Haechan felt his stomach twist every time. He hurt himself even more wondering how serious their story was getting. Was Jeno seducing her with the ‘eternal love bullshit’ he never believed in? Or were they just playing around? He didn’t think it was a way to make him jealous, but was it necessary to act like that in front of him? Acting as if he wasn’t there. Acting as if he never existed. 

And Haechan tried to find flaws in Jeno, trying to hate every good thing about his best friend just so that he could sleep at night. But he couldn’t find it, he knew him, and he could, unfortunately, see how happy Jeno made her. 

Haechan tried to hold back the bitter, disgusted grin on his lips every time he saw her laugh or smile at his words. He wondered if Jeno gave her butterflies, if Jeno made her feel a bit of what he made her feel, if her heart beat just as loud as it did when they were together and if she ever showed him her real laugh. But the more he cut them apart the more he only got one answer, an answer he didn’t like. 

Jeno gave her butterflies. 

Haechan tried to move on, find other girls after Bora — no, it didn’t work out because Bora wasn’t her, because she couldn’t get him, because she couldn’t understand him the way she did. 

And no other one-night stand could fill the void he felt in his chest. It wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about a brief sparkle of happiness. It was about love. It was about the person of his life, then one he lost because he put foolish things before her. 

Days started blending into nights as he tried to find another reason to wake up every day and move on with his life. He felt like shit, the bags under his eyes getting darker and his cheeks getting hollow as the food in his plate dimmed more and more. 

He was once again falling into the hole she got him out of. And he needed her. But not because he needed saving, not because he could leave her again once he was out of that, he needed her because he loved her. If things cracked in their last months together he realized that the so-called ‘freedom’ he wanted to have was nothing compared to having her. 

He thought he needed to mirror himself in somebody that was like him but he didn’t realize that the reflection in the mirror that was distorted and he couldn’t recognize anymore was his, and not hers. 

He needed to change. He needed to be better. He needed to grow. 

Because she was still there. 

With her comforting smiles. And her little clumsy dance steps. And her passion for history. And her flowy dresses she loved twirling around. 

She was his reason, not because he was crawling on the floor again, but because nobody else could ever take her place. 

So, he was getting on his knees, begging for forgiveness, low eyes staring down at the rug in front of her door because he couldn’t find the strength to see the disappointment in her eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Her venous voice was enough to hurt him, to hit him straight into his heart like an arrow, not a Cupid one but a hate arrow, piercing him, making him bleed. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he confessed, voice so low she could barely hear what he was saying. 

“Do what?” She asked, staring at him, feeling her heart twist when he lifted his head and his eyes were red and glossy, and tears were streaking down his face. 

“I can’t be without you anymore.” 

She snorted before slamming the door close, but his hand was faster at blocking it, his broken eyes silently begging her for another chance. 

“Don’t,” she warned, glaring at him, voice cutting in her throat. 

“Please, please, just one more chance,” he begged, voice broken, lips shaking and she had to close her eyes because she wasn’t going to let him have so much power over her ever again. 

“I don’t need your crocodile tears, Haechan,” she replied, trying to push the door close, but he was stronger than her and she could only give up. 

“I’m honest, now. I lied to you enough, and look where it led us,” he said, staring into her eyes, showing her that he had never been more honest than this. 

“Quick, tell me what you want, and then leave.” 

“I want you back,” he said forwardly, and the look in her eyes should’ve made him take a step back, or maybe run away immediately, but he didn’t. Haechan could see she was mad, but he had to try. “I was an asshole. Now I know. I should’ve seen what I had when I had you. I should’ve paid you attention. I should’ve cherished you and yet I took you for granted.” 

“And that’s not my problem,” she replied sternly. 

“I was too dumb, I was so focused on me and my dreams that I forgot you were part of my dreams too.” 

“You’re only mad because I’m not yours anymore. You hate seeing me happy with someone else, you hate that I’m happier with Jeno than I’ve ever been happy with you.” 

His lips started shaking. “That’s not true,” he mumbled. “You’re not happier. I know you’re not. You can’t be happier with him.” 

“Why not?” She asked, daring him. “What have you done for me in the last year, Haechan? I was like a toy for you, sitting nicely on one of your shelves, covered in dust, and broken, and instead of taking care of me, instead of treating me right, you went and bought another toy. And what a shame, it turned out it didn’t work, too.” 

“It didn’t work because she wasn’t you, no one else will ever be you.” 

She sighed deeply, trying to push back the tears, Haechan could see she was close to crying, she would always squeeze her eyes and nervously pinch the skin on her hand, he never got why, though. “See, that’s the thing with you, you think everybody owes you something. You think you can come here, cry a little, scream about how special I was, and everything will go back to normal as if nothing happened.” 

“But —”

“No, let me talk,” she stopped him, tone stern, leaving no space to retort. “Being with you it’s a fucking roller coaster. It’s always one step forward and three steps back. I don’t know if you love me, want me, hate me, I don’t know. I have no idea what will strike a nerve and get you mad.” 

“I know what I want now, I know I want you,” he replied, trying to reach for her but she stepped back. 

“And have you wondered if you are the one that I want? You got me — you — fuck,” she cursed, clenching her fist, and throwing her head back. “You got me so fucked up in the head. You have no idea how much you made me doubt myself. I couldn’t see myself beautiful anymore, I hated my face, I hated my body. I thought I was unfunny. I thought I wasn’t smart. And,” she sighed, wiping away the tears that were rolling down her face. “I hate you, and I hate myself so much because I gave you so much power. I let you take away everything of me.” 

“I can fix it. I know you felt like shit too since we’ve broken up. I know you miss it. Please,” he begged. Even though he felt unworthy, and guilty for all the things he said and did. 

“It’s so easy for you,” she whispered. Going back in time hurt now, she was healing, slowly, but she was moving forward, and he was once again making her go back in the line of their story. “It’s back and forth with you. It’s a continuous push and pull that drove me insane. Every time wondering if I did something wrong, or maybe it was all your fault. But I never blamed you, I never thought that you were the problem in our story. I always blamed myself. And you have no idea how much that broke me.”

“No, I’ll do anything to prove to you how much I love you. I can mend your broken heart, I will give you mine if it’s what it would take to fix you.” 

She lowered her head, and he couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was biting her lip to stop the sobs from rolling out. 

“Remember what I promised you? What we promised each other? That we’d never part because we fit so well with each other and nobody else could come close to that.” 

She chuckled bitterly, “I wasn’t the one breaking that promise apart.” 

“I know, I’m not blaming you. It’s my fault, I was immature, I hurt you so bad. But I won’t do it again. I won’t break your heart again. I won’t make you feel like you’re not enough.” 

“I just don’t get it. You had me in the palm of your hand, Haechan. I was right there, I would’ve never left. All you had to do was stay by my side and love me, and you didn’t. You left me the second I wasn’t as interesting anymore, the second I felt like a habit, an old one that you hate. How can I be sure you won’t do it again? How can I be sure there won’t be another Bora?” 

“I’ll prove it to you. Test me. Do whatever you want.” 

She shook her head. “I don’t want us to become toxic,” she said. “I don’t want to truly be the psycho-obsessed girlfriend that you always believed I was, because I wasn’t, and I’m not. I need to trust you, and if I started doubting that, it was because you gave me a reason.” 

“Then how can I gain your trust again?” 

She sniffled, resting against the door, feeling too tired to do this anymore. She looked at him. She couldn’t give him another chance. 

“Work for it,” she replied weakly. “Prove me you care for me. Prove me you love me still. Do all the things you never did when we were together. Show me that you won’t turn to look at somebody else the first second I won’t be at my best.”

His eyes lit up, and he took a step forward but she stopped him. 

“We’re not back together, Haechan,” she said sternly. “You have to woo me. You need to make me fall in love again, because right now, I don’t love you anymore.” 

And those were the last words she said before closing the door, leaving him outside with the wind blowing on his face. 

I don’t love you anymore. 

That tore him apart. But if he made her fall once, he was going to make her fall twice.  

And Haechan didn’t waste time. 

The first thing that he did was send a bouquet of flowers to her place. He picked out her favorite flowers and also wrote a note with the lyrics of her favorite song. He wanted to give them to her, to see her reaction, but he decided to leave them out of her door, sure she would’ve loved the surprise after coming back from work. 

And it worked. 

She didn’t mean to be so happy about it but her heart flipped in her chest when she saw the flower lying there. 

Then one morning when she was leaving for work she found a heart-shaped package full of chocolate on her car and a small note saying ‘With the hope that your day will be just as sweet.’ 

“No, why am I smiling like this, damn,” she cursed, opening the car door to get in, trying to calm her heartbeat. She surely loved the attention and nothing else. Haechan was long gone in the past and this was just her revenge to make him believe that he had a chance of taking her back. So she dropped the chocolates in the backseat and drove off to work, hoping to leave him behind. 

But Haechan was firm. He had lost her once, he wasn’t going to make it happen twice. So he texted her a lot, telling her that a song on the radio reminded him of her, or sending her a video he found online sure that she was going to laugh, he even started sending her good morning and good night texts. 

Haechan wasn’t even hurt that sometimes she didn’t answer, at least she wasn’t blocking him so that had to be good news, right? She had told him he was under a test and he wasn’t going to fail. 

“Hi,” he cheered, waiting for her outside of work. 

“Jesus, you scared me,” she replied, holding a hand on her chest and taking a deep breath while glaring at him. “What are you doing here?” 

Haechan didn’t answer, he only lifted two tickets in his hands, waving them in front of her face. 

“What are those?” She asked, starting to walk to reach the metro, but Haechan pulled her back, hands reaching for her wrist before she could slip away. 

“There’s a Van Gogh exhibition in town. It’s for the 170 anniversary of his birth,” he explained, watching her eyes light up just hearing the name of the painter. She couldn’t say no, he was one of her top artists ever and she had told him countless times how badly she wanted to see his works. 

“That’s — that’s so unfair,” she muttered, hugging her body after pulling away from his hold. 

“You act as if I can infect you or something,” he replied annoyed. 

“I just don’t want you to get too close to me, I know you and your…” she sighed. “Don’t get your hopes high. I’m only coming because I’m selfish and I want to watch the exhibit.” 

But Haechan couldn’t care, it was a win for him anyway. He got to spend time with her and make her live an experience she wasn’t going to forget easily. 

“So you are in?” He still asked, eyes lighting up in anticipation, watching her lips twitch as usual when she tried to hide her excitement. 

“Yes, and let’s go before I change my mind.”  

He let out a little cheer of victory before turning around and starting to walk toward the right metro that would’ve let them to the exposition. Fighting the urge to reach for her hand was hard but he couldn’t risk it now with bold moves that would’ve only scared her away. 

“So, how was your day?” He asked, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, if they were physically restricted he couldn’t do anything dumb. 

“Good,” her answer was quick, almost stern if he wanted to look into it, and it made his heart clench. 

“Can we not?” He asked, glimpsing at her. Hair flying in the air, eyes slightly narrowed, forming a cute furrow on her face as she tried to don’t let the wind bother her sight. But her features weren’t relaxed only because of the weather, he could feel the negativity come out of her. 

“Do what?” 

“Your answer and you being so distant to me.” 

She sighed. “How can you expect any different? Try to appreciate I didn’t tell you to fuck off as soon as I saw you.” 

Haechan didn’t answer, it was better than nothing but it wasn’t what he wanted, and he probably liked the silence of his phone not buzzing back when he sent a text over the silence she was reserving for him now. So he kept quiet for the rest of the walk, trying to convince himself that it was better than nothing. It was better than nothing. 

“It’s interactive?” She asked when they entered the palace, skipping the line for the tickets since Haechan already bought them. 

“Partially,” he explained. “I hope you’ll like it anyway.” 

She only hummed, looking around to follow the signalled path and see the first paintings. 

It didn’t go exactly as Haechan planned, she was roaming around the room keeping her distance, admiring the artworks on her own, and the few times they ended up watching the same panting she would move to another. 

He hated it. 

But he tried to take the best of the experience, she was cute with her small furrow as she studied the details of the artwork, or when she tried to read the description at the side. And he couldn’t hide the smile on her face when she snapped pictures, even if it hurt when she asked some other to take one for her instead of reaching out for him.

“Can I ask you why you like him so much?” He asked, finally blocking her in front of Wheatfield with Crows, Van Gogh’s last painting. 

“Because he was lonely.”

He saw she was trying to find the words and waited for her patiently. 

“He had this type of pain inside of him that makes him so real. It was like nobody could read him, not even his closest friends or lovers. And yet his pain was all there, in his works.” 

“It’s sad.” 

“It’s sad that people never hear others’ cries for help, it’s sad that we can only stop at the surface and never get deeper. It’s so easy to say that the world and humanity are rotting now but things weren’t so different decades ago.” 

“I feel like you’re throwing shade at me.” 

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Is it shade or is it the honest truth? You stopped seeing into my pain and started calling me crazy, and only when you realized what you lost you crawled back to me. Maybe if you went beyond, if you listened to my cries for help, we wouldn’t look like complete strangers having awkward conversations now.” 

“What’s bugging you?” Jeno asked while he stared at her, she was swinging in the oval chair in his living room, looking outside, nervously chewing her nails, ruining the pink polish. 

“Nothing, just work,” she said, partially it was true. They had all graduated but she still felt lost, she had found a job in a museum and she liked it a lot, but she still didn’t know if she wanted to be a teacher or an academic researcher, both jobs required a lot and she felt inadequate. 

“Why don’t you come here and relax?” Jeno asked, patting the empty spot next to him on the couch. He felt there was something else going on. He had seen how she and Haechan seemed closer once again and he couldn’t help but feel paranoid. 

No, they weren’t dating. Not even if they spent so much time together, and their hands were always intertwined when they walked, not even if he often dropped her to work before going to his. Not even if her head rested against his shoulder when they watched tv. Not even if they stayed up all night to talk with each other. 

He knew he still didn’t have a place in her heart, he wondered if he ever would’ve had a place there. But he tried his best to make her happy. Being her friend still was something and he liked what they had, no matter how messy the whole situation was. 

“We could watch a movie, maybe it will keep your mind off it,” he proposed, smiling at her when she sat next to him, as always cuddling to his body. 

“Or we could talk,” she said, not even knowing why she was choosing such a risky path. Talking wasn’t her forte, especially if it was about love. 

“Sure, if it would make you feel better. So, what’s wrong?” 

She sighed, gulping before words came out of her mouth, “do you ever feel like… no matter what you do it will always be wrong? I’m not talking about fearing what people think, but what it will be of yourself, and your life. As if every choice could lead to a terrible mistake.” 

Jeno hummed, “Sometimes.” I felt like this when I spent nights up trying to decide if I should’ve talked to you or not. He didn’t say it, he tried to come up with another example, or something that wouldn’t have made her regret deciding to open up to him. “But I also think that when it feels like this we should follow our heart. Yes, it might end up tragically but at least there’s the chance we had fun along the way.” 

“Oh,” she whispered. “I never thought about it that way, but I guess it makes sense.” 

“It’s not about work, is it?” 

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I mean, yes, it’s… it’s,” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “I just feel that in the last year everything went downhill, I make choices thinking I’ll be happy and then it never feels as good as I hope it would feel. I want to be happy, but it seems like I can’t reach the happiness I want.” 

He hummed, he wanted to ask if Haechan had something to do with it but he didn’t want to talk about him. He could see a part of her was still stuck there, in the past, and he reminded himself of that more than enough. 

“It takes time,” Jeno replied instead. “So many things in your life changed, you need to give yourself time to adjust to what came after.” 

“Yeah but it’s so different from what I imagined,” she replied, voice getting thinner as she pushed her tears back. “When I still went to Uni I knew the real world was going to be harsh but I always imagined I was going to have somebody by my side. And now, I’m alone. My house is emptier than it ever been, and…” my heart is emptier than it ever been “...and sometimes it gets so hard to wake up all alone and come home to four empty walls.” 

He pushed down the bitterness in his throat, where was he in all of this? “What about your friends?” 

“I love them, deeply. I love every single one of you so much, don’t get me wrong, but… this is not the life I imagined.” 

“Did you have plans… with him?” 

She snorted bitterly, shaking her head. “So many.” 

“Do them by yourself.” 

“What?” 

“Do what you wanted to do with him but by yourself, or with friends. Maybe it will make you feel like some of the life you expected can still be there. Start from what you can fix, not what you can’t.” Jeno reached out, caressing her hand. “Start brand new by threading what ripped in the past.”

She chuckled, “have you always been so wise?” 

Jeno playfully pushed her away, and shook his head. “It’s that I get you, I feel the same.” 

She sighed, nervously pulling the hangnails on her fingers, feet tapping the floor as her brain drifted away, trying to think quickly if she could do it, take the past and leave it where it belonged and open her arms to the future that seemed to be brighter. It was possible, she started to do it, but then Haechan came crashing down like a wrecking ball again and all the walls she started to build up again, fell apart. 

“I should do what you said,” she replied, words slipping out of her mouth even if her heart wasn’t so convinced about it. “I can do many things we had planned even if I don’t have him by my side and then I just need to trust myself walking on my own.” 

Jeno smiled, daring hand moving up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, thumb caressing her cheek, making her skin burn up. “You’re like a baby giraffe.” 

She laughed, “A baby giraffe?” 

“Yeah, you’ve never seen a video of them when they’re born? They walk so weirdly.” 

“Oh, that,” she replied, still giggling, “I’ll take that as a compliment, then.” 

He nodded, another bright smile curling his lips as he stared at her a little longer, “It is for me. I love giraffes.” 

Her smile dropped for a second at his words but she tried to mask it with a slightly fake one. It still didn’t remove the heavy weight she felt in her chest. She didn’t know if she could call what she felt for him love. Maybe it was infatuation, maybe she enjoyed his company. But love? It was still such a big word, and she felt so guilty. It had been six months now, and she was still making Jeno walk on a tightrope with her doubts and fears. She felt like shit, he deserved somebody that made up their mind, somebody that knew exactly what they wanted and she still didn’t know anything. 

“Should we do something, now?” Jeno proposed, bringing her out of her thoughts, sensing the shift in the air. 

“Yeah, I think it’s better.” 

The evening passed with no other awkward interactions, but it felt like something was slightly different. The touches between them that usually were normal, now felt like they brought a new electricity with them, as if something was pulling them closer, a connection that felt scary. 

And when Jeno asked her to stay, because it was late, and it was better if they ate something together and then he would’ve dropped her home, timidly touching her hand, she couldn’t say no. 

So they were there, on his couch, tangled up to each other, a bottle of soju at their feet as the sky got darker outside of the open window. 

“We should dance,” she proposed, surprising him as she stood up and searched for her phone to turn on the music. “Are you rejecting a proposal to dance?” She asked, dragging him up from the seat. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, chuckling to hide the awkwardness. 

“Why not? We make a quite great couple when we dance,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Sure, I’m not as good as you but you make it up for me.” 

So Jeno didn’t complain more, his hands wrapped around her waist and they started dancing, bodies swinging to the rhythm, and hands daring to be braver on each other. 

When their lips brushed, they were both surprised, but they didn’t pull away, they stayed there, eye to eye, silently waiting for one of them to make the first step. 

And Jeno was the one doing it. He leaned in again, fearing a slap that never came. Her body relaxed in his hold and before they knew, the kiss heated up. 

“Need you,” she whispered against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly.  

“You are drunk,” Jeno said, pulling away, and shaking his head. Probably telling those words more to himself. 

“I’m not, I can take a bottle of soju,” she replied, trying to reach for him but he walked away, giving her his back. 

“You don’t want me.” 

“What makes you think that?” She asked, now standing behind him, waiting for him to turn around. 

Jeno didn’t answer immediately, he only stared at her. He wanted her badly, so badly that he couldn’t describe it with words. 

“Are you going to regret this?” 

She shook her head. She never did anything like that before, but people always had random sex with people or friends, so what was so hard about it? Everything would’ve gone back to normal after, right? 

“I won’t.” 

Jeno was hesitant in his movements, every brush of his fingers made her shiver, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched, and even worst, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched like that. As if she was a precious diamond that would’ve broken. The last times with Haechan had been blurred memories, random quickies that felt like rushes to get off of a pleasure they were killing with each other just for morals. But this… this felt… different. 

“Look at me,” she whispered, lifting his chin up. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

Jeno bit his lips, humming before hardly swallowing the saliva. “I just… I don’t want to rush it. I don’t want to make you feel like I only care about sex. I…” he sighed. I like you a lot, maybe I even love you, if I feel masochistic enough. “I care about you and I think you deserve respect.” 

When her lips curled in a tender smile he cursed himself mentally, what a fucking loser. She surely wanted something different, something that felt like sex and not love, and here he was, being pathetic. 

“I know, I just wanted to check in we were both into this.” 

Jeno nodded, breath still shaking but he tried to hide it by kissing her again. “Should we take this to the bedroom?” 

The walk between the living room and his bedroom was a blackout with Jeno’s strong arms carrying her up to his bed while he never let go of the heated kiss. 

And everything that came after that felt like striking a new match. 

To her it felt all so different, the only man she ever had in her life being Haechan. But Jeno dreamed of this for so long, maybe not this, he at least tried to don’t think of her in those situations but he still wanted her nonetheless. And she wasn’t a dream anymore, or his best friend’s girlfriend he liked so much. She was his, at least partially, but partially was better than zero. 

“Jeno,” she moaned, fingers tangling in his hair when he moved between her legs and started eating her out. His hands were spread wide against the back of her thighs, pushing her legs apart to have better access to her most sensitive spot. 

“Feels good?” He mumbled against her, vibrations running in her lower abdomen, already making her stomach twitch in anticipation. 

“So good,” she cried out, throwing her head back, trapping her lips because somehow it felt embarrassing to be this loud with him. What if she let out strange sounds? What if she did something wrong? Maybe fucking with somebody you’re not that intimate with wasn’t that easy for everybody. But Jeno was still good enough to fog her doubts with pleasure. More than good enough to be honest, he knew what he was doing, skilled mouth taking care of her most sensitive parts, sucking and licking with precision. 

And she couldn’t help but loosen up a little, letting out soft whimpers and moving her hips against him to reach the high. 

It didn’t take long to reach it when Jeno was so good at it, and the way his light touches on her thighs and waist added to it, pleasure running under her skin with his every move. 

Jeno moved up, meeting her lips in a rougher kiss, his hands searching for hers. 

“Fuck,” she groaned when he pushed two fingers inside her, pumping slowly, barely giving her time to recover from the first orgasm. She wanted to talk but the words were dying in her throat, and she could only pant underneath his strong body and whimper muffled moans. 

“Wa-want you,” she moaned. “Please, Jeno. Need more,” she slurred when his fingers curled exactly where she needed them, pumping her wetness in and out with lewd sounds. 

“Are you sure you can take me?” 

She nodded swiftly, looking into his eyes, moving her head to kiss him again and again while whispering ‘please,’ through every kiss. 

Jeno pulled away and shuffled through his bedside table to look for a condom, ripping the wrap as soon as he grabbed it and rolling it on him swiftly. 

And in all that she studied every move, his muscles flexing, his skilled fingers rolling it down his lenght, and his eyes looking at her with intensity. 

He didn’t add any words when he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him before sinking into her wet walls. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyebrow knitting while her warmth wrapped around him. 

Her head rolled back, and her nails sunk into the bedsheets, feet planting on the mattress while her hips bucked up in reaction to being filled perfectly. 

“Are you okay?" 

She nodded, chuckling, “I’m fine, it’s not my first time," she giggled, caressing his face. “I won’t break." 

His hips started moving back and forth, speed increasing until he found the perfect rhythm, eyes fixated on her, from her face to her boobs heaving fast.  

“Don’t hold back,” he ordered with a deep tone, thumb crazing her lips to free them from the hold on her teeth. “I want to hear you. Is it good?” 

She nodded, humming. 

“Then don’t hide it, let me know — fuck — let me know I’m making you feel good.” 

Her lips parted, finally letting go of the real moans and whimpers she was holding back.

“Wanted you for so long,” he moaned, kissing her roughly, “you sound so pretty when you moan like this, fuck, keep — keep doing it.” 

A scream of his name came out of her mouth when he grabbed her ankles and rested them on his shoulders. “Shh, babe, you can take it.” 

She hummed, eyes closing again, the new position giving him the chance to move better and reach her sensitive spot better, bringing her close to the edge once again. 

“Feels good,” she cried, wrapping her hands around his neck before her nails ran down his back, leaving red marks. “I’m close...” 

“Fuck, I can feel you,” he moaned, leaning in to kiss her, “Come with me,” he hummed, hips moving faster while one of his hands reached down to stimulate her clit, giving her the last push she needed to come, triggering his orgasm too, their moans dying in each other’s mouth while they kept kissing messily. 

They stayed like that for a while before Jeno pulled out of her and rolled to the side, throwing the used condom in the bin next to the bed before turning around to kiss her again. 

“Can’t believe this happened,” he whispered, staring at her in awe, the afterglow of the orgasm still on her beautiful face. 

She smiled, turning to the side to move closer to him. “Neither can I,” she replied, caressing his arm, enjoying the way his fingers were doing the same on her back. It was a different sensation, but she liked it, she would’ve tried to stay up and talk with him more, but sleep took over her soon, doing the same short after with him.

And it was better like this, their heartbeats were better than words that would’ve led them down a dangerous path.

When the morning came, she was alone in the bed, the sheets at his side crumpled up but cold. Lifting her body up she looked around the room, rubbing her temples and thinking about the night that had been and all the consequences coming with it. 

Sighing loudly, she stood up and walked out of the bed, looking for her clothes, but not finding them anywhere. 

“I hope he won’t mind,” she murmured, grabbing one of his shirts from the closet before making her way outside. 

And there he was, cooking in the kitchen while the radio played in the background, only wearing grey pants while his back was exposed, signs of her nails visible on his skin. 

The urge to drag her feet to him and hug him was big, but she felt that wasn’t something she was supposed to do. It would’ve been another domino card pushed down, causing a bigger mess. All of this felt like it was already getting out of hand, so why was she attracted to him? 

“Rice?” 

“God, you scared me,” Jeno jumped, turning around with a hand on his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say,” she chuckled, pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

“No, it’s fine, I imagined I had to come wake you up with breakfast in bed,” he smiled. 

“Breakfast in bed?” She asked, biting the inside of her cheeks. 

“Was it too romantic?” She could feel the panic in her voice and smiled at him. “I would’ve loved it. Might as well go back in bed just to have it.” 

Jeno let out a sigh of relief before turning around to don’t make the food burn.

“Yesterday was… great,” he whispered, eyes low on the food. They were halfway through breakfast, and there wasn’t an awkward silence, but it was clear that so many unanswered questions were flying in the room.  

She hummed, swallowing a bite, nervously playing with her nails. “Do I have to be the one making the hard question?” 

He shrugged, briefly looking up at her. 

“What does it make us?” She whispered, throat closing up and when Jeno didn’t answer it only got worst. 

“What do you want us to be?” 

She almost choked when those words slipped from his mouth. And as time passed she could only stare into his eyes. 

She didn’t know what to answer. 

The answer never really came, after slurred words and half-truths drunken up with white lies, the conclusion was that ‘they were trying,’ whatever it meant. Too many doubts haunted both of them, feeling that one bigger step was going to make them slip down a treacherous rope. 

So they were there, in that hazed state coloured of sepia like an old photograph, somehow making it work. All the blurred lines, drawn and erased and re-drawn again just to be ripped and glued together. 

All the shy kisses turned into heated sex. 

All the laughs on the floor with the glasses of wine at their sides. 

All the touches getting braver every day, under plan daylight, in front of strangers’ eyes. 

All the talks about the future, a future that was blurry like the lights from the window pane when it rains. 

But it was comfortable and warm, just like their relationship had always been. It was listening to each other after a long day, hanging out at lunch when they had the same break and even wake-up next to each other in the morning when they were too tired to slip out of each other’s bed. 

Falling into him didn’t seem as scary as it used to do. If she looked down there was a safety blanket, ready to catch her if the impact had been too hard, but she still held tight on that window from the tenth floor, terrified of the height that parted her from the ground. 

It was too soon. 

It was too good. 

“I think we need to stop drinking if we don't want to end up here every time,” Jeno joked, looking at the ceiling while he tried to regain his breath. 

“You’re funny, it's your fault,” she replied, turning around, head kept up by her bent arm against the floor. Jeno’s features were relaxed, and she wanted to caress his face so badly, but it felt like there was something holding her back every time. She didn’t even know what it was. Was she afraid of the freefall? Was there even a risk of falling and crushing on the ground with him? Jeno was comfort, everything about him felt safe, from the way he looked to the way he acted. Was it the fear of falling in love again? Was it the fear of hurting him with the wrong choice? 

“I’m not even that funny,” he chuckled, shyly moving his eyes to look at her. “Stop staring at my lips.” 

“I wasn’t staring, I was reading them. You’re funny to me.” 

He snorted, shaking his head a lifting his torso from the cold floor, looking back at her, forearms resting on his knees. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” She asked, sitting next to him, caressing his hair back. 

Jeno sighed, diverting his gaze, making her fingers brush against his skin. 

“It reminded me when we first got close, you would always lay on the floor after dancing.” 

She laughed, shaking her head. “Please, I want to forget about it. I was terrible.” 

“You were passionate, though.” 

“Passion doesn’t lead you anywhere," she replied. “Anyway, you promised you were going to bake a cake for me.”

“Not now,” he said. 

“Oh, come on, we can’t spend the entire afternoon on the floor, drinking wine and laughing.”

Jeno shrugged. “I like it actually,” and then fell backwards again, dragging her with him, making her yelp. 

“It’s not fair,” she screamed when he started kissing her cheeks. "I wanted my cake.” 

“Fine,” he gave up, rolling to her side again and getting up, reaching his hand to help her do the same. “But you help me bake it and then we’ll watch something together?”

“Deal.”

It was too soon.

It was too good. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked when she opened the door and found Haechan standing there. 

“Taking you out,” he replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

She raised a brow, tilting her head. “Taking me out? Excuse me, did I miss the bit where I forgive you?”

Haechan sighed, shaking his head. “Be ready in ten, I’m waiting by the car.” 

“You’re not taki—” 

“Yes, I am. Dress however you want,” he said, turning around. “Anyway, anything looks good on you.” 

“I heard you,” she screamed, trying to hide the smile on her face and the way the smile she could feel was on his lips made her heart flip. 

“Good, wanted you to hear it.” 

Sighing loudly she closed the door again and walked to her room. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. Renjun was busy with some friends, and Jeno still didn’t answer her, so spending some time with Haechan couldn’t be so terrible, right? She had spent years with him, a few hours weren’t going to hurt. 

Not to say that he was trying. 

She never imagined he was going to put so much effort into trying to get back to her, but he was surprising her. So she picked his favorite dress with too much hype, not even thinking it through until she entered the car and he pointed it out. 

“It’s a coincidence,” she mumbled, looking out of the window as he started driving. 

“Sure,” Haechan smirked. “Things with you are never a coincidence. You like to have everything under control.” 

She scoffed. “Acting like you know me?” She turned around, staring at him, watching how his face was more relaxed compared to the last times they saw each other. What if things were changing? But what was changing? 

“I do know you. Better than anybody else does, and will,” he replied and she only turned over again because she didn’t feel like she had many theories to prove him wrong. Nobody got so deep under her skin. For now, she liked to think, but she wasn’t confident about it. 

“Not curious to know where I’m taking you?” He asked, breaking the silence that filled that confined space, strangely it wasn’t uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help but fear that she still hated him, and talking to her eased that tension. 

She shook her head but turned to stare at him. “You should know I like surprises.” 

Haechan smiled. “Yeah, but this is not really one.” 

“You didn’t tell me anything, and I trust you. I want to keep this a surprise, want to see if you will let me down.” 

When they arrived at the spot she was surprised but confused, it was a park, and there was a small wooden house with a porch with small lights hanging outside after walking along a path.  

“Can we even be here?” She asked, hesitating to cross the door when Haechan entered. “Are you making me do something illegal?” 

“I know the park keeper, he gifted me this for the night,” he reassured, giving her his back. 

“You didn’t take me here thinking I would fuck you just because there are some candles that I love and my favorite flowers and my favorite food, right?” She asked, smile immediately dropping when she started to feel mixed emotions. This was exactly what she loved the most, the types of cozy dates that didn’t require lots of money or crazy things.  

“You think I would screw up all those months trying to make it up to you for sex?” He asked, hurt by her words. He knew that it was hard, but did she really think that low of him? 

She sighed, nodding, and then whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“You told me you always wanted to do something like this,” he started explaining, “well, you wanted to rent a small chalet in the mountains, but this is all I can give you for now. Thought it was the closest thing we have in town.” 

“So, you listened to me sometimes?” Her tone wasn’t mad, light enough that her words were followed by a tender chuckle. 

“I did, I just never showed you I listened,” he replied, serving the food on her plate. “Next time I’ll cook it myself, but asking the keeper to order it and place it for us was the only option I had now.” 

“It’s fine,” she reassured, smiling at him. “Is this his?” 

“He’s not the owner, but they are not here, so it’s like it is his,” Haechan explained, sitting in front of her. “You usually have to pay for this, but at night the park it’s closed.”

“He must really trust you. How do you know him?” 

Haechan gulped. He couldn’t tell her that was the place he ran to when he needed time alone, silently crying while he felt like shit because he missed her, right? 

“I come here a lot.” Yeah, that was a better option. “And I once stayed after the closing hour without realizing, he found me, and we talked about…” You. We talked all night about you. “…a lot of things.” 

She hummed, taking a bite and waiting to swallow before she spoke again. “He must be nice if you opened up that easily,” she said with a small melancholic smile on her face. “Well, or maybe you changed and open up with people more.” 

“I needed help, let’s say, I was at my lowest.” 

Her eyes met his. “Was it… six years ago?” 

He shook his head, “No, my second time hitting my lowest.” 

She placed the chopsticks on the table and reached for his hand, “Why didn’t you come to me?” 

Haechan sighed, looking at her hands on his, the same old delicate touch he knew, the touch that saved him many years ago, full of worries he now felt he didn’t deserve. He pulled away. “I was… I was at my lowest because of you.” 

She didn’t answer, gulping and grabbing the chopsticks again, trying to concentrate on the food instead. 

“I’m not blaming you, by the way,” he specified when he couldn’t read her face. “I put myself in this situation.” 

“Yeah, I — I got what you meant, it’s fine. Should we enjoy this before it gets cold?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s better like this.” 

Dinner went unexpectedly smoothly. Probably they became masters at avoiding trick conversations, but anyway it was a pleasant time together. 

Haechan couldn’t believe she still didn’t throw something at him or stormed outside with a sudden rage against him. 

And she couldn’t believe Haechan looked like a completely different person. Or, better, he looked like the same Haechan she had fallen in love with. Attentive and caring, genuinely interested in the things she was saying, and with a different glow in his eyes, a glow that five years ago he only reserved for her. 

They talked and talked and laughed and it felt like in the air there was the same magic that surrounded them on their first dates. The cheap ones at the fast food that made them go home smelling like oil, or the ones sitting under a tree as they enjoyed the light spring breeze caress their faces, or even the ones at the arcade when Haechan still cared to teach her how to play games and wouldn’t get mad at her if she got her character killed. 

But this magic was dangerous, it smelled like something they couldn’t have. It smelled like the past. And as much as they both clearly wanted this to be the future, the road ahead didn’t seem as clear as this. 

“Remember when we used to go to the old library downtown?” Haechan asked, a small smile curling his lips while his fingers played with the corner of the napkin.

“Yeah, I could drag you there only cause there was a game shop beside.”

He chuckled, “don’t pretend those weren’t your favorite dates. We would both take time to understand each other’s passions even if we hated them.”

She smiled at the memory, "and then we would sneak into your bedroom. You trying to teach me how to play and me failing. So I would just watch, or read my books in silence.”

“Or out loud. I loved it when you read out loud, there’s something about your voice… Before we started dating and you came over I… I sometimes recorded you, it was the only sound that made me sleep at night.”

Her lips twitched in a melancholic grin, holding back tears, “Your screams during games wouldn’t have made me sleep so I'm sorry if I didn’t record them.”

Haechan laughed, shaking his head. Remembering that actually she often fell asleep while he was playing, and not noticing immediately he didn't lower his voice, and they still didn’t wake her up.

“But I loved watching you. It was the only time you were yourself, without trying to impress others that never even cared about you. You know, I think that even if you became more confident with time you never stopped caring about what people had to say. I… I don’t want to justify you but I tried, God if I tried when I didn’t want to accept the truth, and I still blame you but… I guess for you it made sense to be with someone like her and not me. We were fine until you started becoming more known and started meeting more people like them. Dancers dating dancers, people with big goals in life, unlike me. You started changing not only with me, but even with yourself. I hope you stopped now, I hope… I hope you don’t let other people’s opinion of you define you.”

Haechan didn’t reply immediately. How could she still read him so easily? How could she know him so deeply? He couldn’t blame others for his terrible choices but it was true that he let voices around him get to his head. The fear of being a loser once again was stronger than a lot of things he should’ve taken care of.

“I don't…”

She smiled, hoping it was true, regardless of them, and what they were going to be, she still hoped he had stopped letting the demons from the past torture him.

“It’s raining,” she pointed out when she heard a loud sound outside and, after turning her back to the window, she saw the drops hit the glass.  

“Let’s go,” Haechan said, timidly grabbing her hand, surprised when she held his back and let their fingers intertwine. 

“Wait, wouldn’t be better to wait till it calms?” She asked, stopping for a second. 

Haechan smiled. “I don’t want to go home.” 

“No? Then where are we going?” 

“Do you trust me?” He asked, gathering all the courage in his body, terrified of the answer. 

But the words slipped out of her mind before she could rationalize them. “Yes.” 

He couldn’t describe the happiness he felt in his chest at her words and the enthusiasm with which he pulled her out of the small wooden house. 

“We’re gonna get soaked,” she said when the heavy rain hit their bodies. 

“Wasn’t this on your bucket list?” He asked, grabbing both of her hands and staring into her eyes as the water wet them more. “Didn’t you always want to dance under the rain?” 

Her lips parted in surprise, enthusiasm, and thrill, he couldn’t exactly point out the emotions on her face, but when the biggest smile crossed her face, he felt happier than ever. It was like having her back, he could feel the happiness and serenity radiate from her body and that was the only sign he needed. No matter how this was going to end, she didn’t hate him anymore. She felt safe and happy. 

“There’s no music, though,” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck, shivering when Haechan’s hands wrapped around her waist. None of them could remember the last time they had been so close and intimate, it had surely been more than a year considering how their story had crumbled apart long before the end.

“I also have that planned,” he said, before pulling out his phone from his back pocket and starting to play her favorite song. 

“You still remember…” she whispered, and Haechan couldn’t tell if her eyes were teary or if it was the rain. 

“I will always remember all the small things about you.” 

She didn’t answer, only hummed before they started dancing to the rhythm. And they danced, not caring about tiring, letting the rain soak them completely, laughing and pulling each other closer. It felt good. It brought them back to the nights up in the kitchen when Haechan used her as a — terrible — dance partner and then they ended up waltzing together. 

Or to be fair, it brought them to another world where they have never been, because this didn’t feel real. They weren’t in the past anymore, she got better now, and even if she missed a step, he didn’t mind. And now the world outside didn’t seem so loud, no other opinions to tell them what to do and condition them to make mistakes. 

It was them. 

Under the pouring rain. 

Wearing their biggest smiles as their fleshes moved together as if they were made just for that. 

When their lips met in a kiss, the magic exploded around them, making them fly in the sky before reality crashed on them again, the unrealistic bubble of happiness imploding, the strength so harsh that pushed them to the ground. 

“I didn’t —” Haechan tried to justify when she pulled apart, even if he had no idea who started the kiss. 

“Don’t,” she stopped him, taking a step back. Cursing herself mentally, wiping the drops of water out of her face. 

“But I —”

“I said, don’t,” she retorted again, finger lifted up to don’t make him take a step closer. “You can’t, you can’t just crash in and take everything of me again. You can’t be so sure that I will take you back every time. You’re messing with my head and you know what you’re doing.” 

“I’m trying to get you back. Like you told me. I’m proving to you that I love you, that I care about you. I’m not tricking you,” he explained, not moving to don’t scare her away, but he couldn’t understand this reaction. Weren’t they fine just ten seconds before? Why was she so afraid? Why was he so hard to trust?  

“Why did you kiss me?” 

“Why did you kiss me back? I’m not even sure I was the one starting it. You know what’s the problem? That you still love me, no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t, no matter how much you fuck with Jeno, pretending that he makes you feel the same. You love me still and you hate it. You hate that you know you will never be happier with anybody else.” 

“God, you’re so full of yourself and so… so, God,” she groaned, clenching her fists and turning around, starting to walk in the park, under the rain, wrapping her arms around her chest, not even to shield herself from the cold but to support herself, a self-hug to don’t fall apart again. 

“You can’t leave without me,” he said, pulling her closer, chest to chest, as her eyes looked up at him. The rain still hitting them, coming down harder, almost as if the rain was mad too. “Don’t leave me.” The last words came out like a plead, or like a prayer, begging her to don’t ruin this perfect night together. He knew he was the problem, one thing good and three wrong, but he was trying to get better. He was doing it for her. 

Haechan felt his heart tighten when her eyes filled with salty drops, he couldn’t read her anymore, or maybe he never learned to, so that was why it hurt so much right now. They both needed to correct years of mistakes, wrong words, and misunderstood acts. 

He couldn’t tell what was going on in her heart. If she was mad because he kissed her, or if she was mad because they shouldn’t have been there, getting mad over a kiss that still could’ve been theirs if only he didn’t fuck it up. 

“Can we keep dancing? Can we pretend?” He whispered, caressing her wet cheek, kissing her forehead, her eyelids falling shut at the tender touch. “At least for tonight, then I’ll promise, I’ll stop running after you if you already decided what to do. If you want him instead of me.” 

The sound of the metal shelves rustling back and forth filled the small room while her hands wrapped tightly around the bar of it in the storage room. 

“Jeno, fuck,” she moaned, ass arching back to meet him halfway. His strong, fast thrusts already making her stomach twist.

“I told you to keep quiet,” he whispered close to her ear, wrapping a hand around her mouth while the other was firm around her waist. “The others are practicing outside.” 

She hummed, eyes falling shut, trying to keep quiet. The music of the choreo could still be heard playing in the background, and she hoped it was just them playing it for fun and that the training didn’t start again. Maybe sneaking into a back room during the break wasn’t the smartest thing they could do but she needed to shut her mind off, too many thoughts running through it, and lately, Jeno was the only getaway. 

“You feel so good,” Jeno muttered against her neck, nibbling her shoulder, and crumbling her skirt higher up on her ass. 

Her fist clenched harder around the bar when he started to thrust into her with more force, the sound of their skin slapping against each other filling the room. 

“Jeno,” she screamed as soon as he pulled his hand away. 

“I told you to keep quiet, fuck,” he cursed, shushing her again. “You really want them to find us out, don’t you?” 

She shook her head, feeling her breath falter and her heart race faster as the orgasm approached. 

“No? Are you sure this isn’t a sick game of revenge?” 

“Jeno, what? Please keep — keep fucking me, you’re so good.” 

She didn’t see the furrow on his face, the disappointed one, not the concentred one, eyes dropping off their usual light before he tried to snap back into the mood again, fixating his gaze on her ass. But it wasn’t enough to fool himself anymore. 

“Je-jeno?” She asked, noticing his hips’ movement slowing down until they came to a stop. When he pulled out she whined, thinking for a moment he was playing some game, that he wanted to tease her, but when a dead silence filled the room she gulped and turned around, seeing he was dressed once again. 

“Are — are you okay?” 

“You’re avoiding me,” Jeno told her, shyly meeting her eyes.

“I’m not,” she chuckled nervously. “I’m right here.” 

“You only call me when you want to fuck. You barely even text me if it’s not for that.” 

“That’s not true, I — I’ve been busy lately. I thought we both were okay with this.” 

He sighed, he thought that too when he hoped sex would lead to something more. “I know you don’t love me,” he said, making her stop midway while she fixed her skirt. “It was foolish of me to believe I could mean even half of what he means to you.” 

“Jeno, no, you mean a lot to me.” 

“Yeah, but not like that.” 

“I — that’s not true.” 

“It’s not?” He raised a brow, challenging her with a cold stare. 

“Haechan wants me back, and I’m making him believe he has a chance because I want him to hurt. I want him to understand what it feels like to run after somebody like that, I want him to understand what it feels like to bleed for love.” 

“Be careful of not making bleed somebody else in the meanwhile.” 

“Jeno, I,” she said, trying to block him from opening the door.  

“No, I just… you know how this is going to end,” he said, looking into her eyes, sure more than ever she wasn’t feeling what he felt for her.  

“No, it won’t end like you think.” 

He didn’t answer her, slipping out of her hold to walk back to the practice room, not even ready to face Haechan. 

She let her back fall behind, slumping against the wall as she sighed and felt hot tears stream down her face. Why was it so difficult? And why was it so unfair? 

She was stuck in a labyrinth in her mind and it seemed like there was no way out. 

And she kept thinking about it all the way home. Maybe Jeno was right. 

Because all those attentions from Haechan were making her walls fall down even if she didn’t want to. He never treated her like that, well, only at the start. No, for the first four years it was like heaven, so where did they go wrong? 

Maybe talking and tearing their story apart would’ve been better than those games. Better than all the push and pull. Because like this, they weren’t going anywhere. 

And of one thing she was sure, she didn’t want anybody else to come out of the battle with wounds and tears. 

“You need to stop showing up at my door like this,” she said when she opened the door and Haechan was standing there. A white tee, his black jacket, black jeans, and his brown boots. She wondered how they were still intact considering how much he would wear them. 

“I wish I could,” he replied, voice off, and cheeks red. Only when her eyes looked at him better, she realized he was drunk. “You’re so beautiful,” he added, eyes trailing down on her figure, she was wearing house clothes, just a lilac sweater, and black sweatpants, while her hair was kept up by a clip. But to him, she still looked mesmerizing. 

“Why are you here, Hyuck?” Her voice had a worried edge in it and that made him smile. 

“Did you call me Hyuck? So, you forgave me for the kiss of the other day?” 

She sighed, gulping and drifting her eyes from him. Drunk Haechan was her weakness, especially in the last times, when he would let go of himself only if he had at least two bottles of soju running in his bloodstream and she could still take a glimpse of the same person she had fallen in love with. “It’s 1 a.m, you should be in your bed or somebody else bed.” 

“I can be in yours.” 

She laughed bitterly, “No, you will be in every bed but mine.” 

“Did I push you away?” 

“We already talked it through, it happened. We’re fine.” 

“Then why aren’t you answering my texts? Or my calls? You didn’t even go out with us the other day. Did you fight with him, too? Found your answer?” 

“Okay, calm down. I need… I need time alone, Haechan. This is…” This was a game to make you suffer, leading you to think you could have me back, but it backfired and here we are, here I am. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

“You should answer me,” he said, taking a step closer. “You should talk. I thought we learned where not talking led us.” 

She sighed, looking down when he was face to face with her. “How much did you drink?” 

“Not enough to drown you out of my mind.” 

She sighed, blinking away a tear that was menacing to fall. “Did you drive here?” 

He shook his head, “Took the metro,” he said before he smirked. “Afraid for my life?” 

“Yeah, because I know your ghost would haunt me more than you do now,” she replied, a bitter hint of a joke in her voice, before she stepped to the side. “Come in.” 

Haechan didn’t let her repeat it twice. He looked around, studying how the house tasted of her. Her plants, her books on the shelves, the wall with framed vinyls, the lamps at every corner, the candles on the windowsill, the pillows on the couch, and the faint aroma of her cooking still in the air. He missed all of that so much. 

“Are we alone?” 

“Unfortunately,” she replied before disappearing into the kitchen.  

“I love you,” he said, looking at her while his body blocked hers on the door of the kitchen. 

“Don’t,” she said, shutting him up with a finger raised. “You need water and then… and some sleep.” 

“I need you.” 

“I won’t cure your migraine tomorrow or stop you from puking all over my floor.” 

“But it’s what you’re doing.” 

She glared at him, handing him a glass of water. “Drink,” she ordered. “I’ll make your bed on the couch.” 

He grabbed it reluctantly, and then said, “we already shared one.” 

“Shared.” 

Haechan rolled his eyes but drank the glass anyway, coming out of the room to see her walk into the bedroom to get the sheets. 

“Why can’t we sleep together?” He asked when she let the white fabric fall on the open couch. 

“You know why,” she replied, looking at him. 

“If you made up your mind you should just talk to us and put an end to this.” 

She sighed, if only she didn’t hate this conversation so much she would’ve found it funny how disordered his replies sounded like. “I didn’t invite you here, Haechan.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Here we are again.” 

“Here we are again, what?” She asked sternly, standing straight again to stare into his eyes. 

“You called me Hyuck before.” 

She laughed, “you think that has a meaning for me anymore? It just slips out of habit.”

“So, I mean nothing to you?” 

“Why are you here?” She asked instead, closed fist on her hip and feet tapping the floor, her patience was wearing thin, she wasn’t used to this anymore.

“Because I was out at a club, and I could only think about you.” 

“That’s not enough, that’s not enough to come back here and… and do whatever you want with my heart,” she replied, hands moving frenetically in the air to try to help herself find a sense in all of this. 

“I can’t find you in people’s faces,” Haechan snapped. “I can’t let you go, it would be so much easier if I could just… forget, but I can’t. I can’t because nobody makes my heart race like you do. It’s not fair, it’s like you put a spell on me to — to curse me, to make me pay for all the pain I put you through. I can’t have you back and I can’t win you anymore and I don’t know how to live without you and it sucks, it sucks so badly you have no idea.” 

She chuckled, bitterly. “I have no idea?” 

“You moved on, found someone new. Someone who brings out the better in you.”

“Then why are you here? If you think I won’t take you back, if you think I found my happiness, why are you here?” Her voice raised, clipping in her throat when she met his eyes and had to stop hers from breaking into a pathetic cry.  

“Because I don’t want you to be happier,” he confessed. “I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me. I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go. I know you found someone great, but I hope he’s not better than me. I want to see you happy, I just...I just don’t want you to be happier.” 

“You tore us apart.” 

“I know,” he whispered. “But can you tell me how to forget you? How can I make this pain go away? How can I go back home after work and don’t feel a twist in my chest every time I realize I don’t have you there? How can I stay in that place that we were supposed to call home and has nothing of you? How can I wake up every morning and don’t have you by my side?” 

“You can.” She lied. You can’t. Well, you can, eventually, you have to. But you can’t ever make that tingly feeling go away when you think of all the ‘could’ve been.’

“You didn’t tell me how,” he said, moving closer, hands wrapping around her waist. “How can I drown you out? How can I move on when I see you every time I close my eyes?” he whispered, eyelids falling close as he leaned in, nose brushing against her cheek. “If my sweatshirts still smell like you? If it kills me that the only time I can hear your laugh is when Jeno makes you laugh.” 

“You had to think about this before,” she replied, pushing him away, hands moving to brush off the crease on her clothes, to brush him off of her but he was like fingerprints buried deep into her bones, she couldn’t dust him off when he was carved in her. “You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying. I’ll prepare the bed and then tomorrow we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.” 

Haechan chuckled. “Why do we have to pretend?” He stared as she started parting the bedding and when she didn’t answer, he only sighed loudly. A bitter smile curled his lips as he watched her fix the sheets, bringing back painful memories of when they used to fix the bedding together during their morning afters. When they would wake up in a tangle of sheets and sex of the night before, and in that mess burn up again until they finally decided that waking up and having breakfast was a wise move. 

“It’s done,” she said, fixing the pillows and probably wiping away a tear. Haechan couldn’t see her face clearly in the dim lights of the house, and in the position was keeping her face, low on the floor. “There’s another glass of water with aspirin on the coffee table, take it if you don’t want to pay the consequences of your bullshits in the morning.” 

He nodded, sitting on the freshly made bed and watching her disappear into the other room. Silence and loneliness dropped on him as he stared at an empty spot in front of him. 

A gut feeling telling him that was their finish line, that she made up her mind and he wasn’t in her final plan. 

And he tried to sleep, but somehow the pain was bigger than the others nights now that the only thing separating them was a wall. This could’ve been their reality, this could’ve been all different. He could still have his dreams and her, and instead, he played his cards like a fool and lost the only real thing he had ever known. 

“What are you doing?” He asked when he opened his eyes and saw her sitting in front of him. He blinked repeatedly, but it wasn’t morning, and when his eyes landed on the clock in the room, he saw it was barely past 2 am. 

“Thinking,” she replied, twirling the cup full of a hot liquid in her hand. 

“Thinking?” Haechan raised from the bed, elbows supporting his upper body up, watching her relaxed face in the dim light. She was beautiful even if he could clearly see she was exhausted. 

She nodded, looking down, inhaling the scent of the tea in her hands. 

“About?” 

“How everything could’ve been different if only one thing had been different. Remember all the plans we made? How we wanted to rent a house together after college? How we were worried it wouldn’t have worked if you started touring around the world,” she chuckled bitterly, their nights spent together planning a future that never came replaying in her mind like the scene of her favorite movie. “Fixed the problem in another way.” 

“I didn’t do it for that,” he defended, sitting to look at her.

“I know, but it’s ironic, isn’t it?” She drank a bit and then placed it on the table, jumping out of that to sit next to him on the bed. 

“I was also thinking about how much I hate you,” she said, caressing a strand of hair from his face. “We could’ve had it all. We could’ve made it work. And look at us, a mess crumpled up in a made-up bed in my living room while we talk about the ifs and buts.” 

Haechan didn’t answer, he only stared at her. How enchantingly beautiful she looked even if she was finding a way to tell him they were over. Again. It was like a stab on the same wound, but every time it hit deeper and made him bleed some more. He knew he deserved it and even worst.

“You’re mesmerizing even if you look like a mess,” he let the words slip out, thinking she would’ve slapped him when he realized what he did, but she only smiled, and searched for his hand. 

“You should’ve told me more often when we were together.” 

“I know,” he replied, hand touching her cheek, thumb moving in circles, making her rub against it like a cat when it purrs. 

“You should’ve bought me flowers when we were together.” 

“I also know that.” 

“You shouldn’t have made me feel stupid,” she sighed, throwing her head back. “But we can’t change the past, right?” 

He nodded, pressing his lips together and breathing deeply. “We can change the future.” 

“Or we can ruin it by making the wrong choice,” she said, leaning in, not even knowing why she was searching for his warmth.  

“Does one mistake make a difference between thousands of others?” He asked, leaning closer, standing now eye to eye. 

“I don’t know.” Her voice came out like a vibrato, while her eyes fell on his lips. Oh, those lips. How much she missed them. How much she craved them. But she wasn’t the only one missing that feeling. Feeling the urge to test if one mistake could lead to a catastrophe.  

He kissed her, slow at first, shy, fearful, but then their hands tangled into each other’s hair, and ran on their backs, and pulled and squeezed, almost as if they were trying to rip parts of each other and keep them to themselves, forever this time. 

And none of them wanted to stop. 

It was just a mistake over many mistakes.

“Hyuck,” she moaned when his leg started rubbing between her legs, the motions on her throbbing clit sending sparks up in her bones. 

“So, it’s Hyuck, again, uh?” He smirked. 

She didn’t answer his teasing remark, head reclined back when his fingers moved past the elastic band of her pants. 

“We shouldn’t,” she said but her body kept rocking against him. 

“Kiss me,” he ordered, letting her words fall forgotten, the other hand cupping her ass and pulling her on top of his thigh better. “And keep grinding on me.” 

And she did, not caring that humping him like this was pathetic, head falling in the crook of his neck, inhaling his perfume and letting it fill her senses. 

“Did you miss this?” He asked when his fingers started moving on her clit in circles, making her throw her head back while louder moans rolled out of her mouth. A grin on his face as he stared at her bliss-filled face. “Not answering, uh?” 

“Shut up,” she replied through gritted teeth, head falling on his shoulder to hide the embarrassment, moans getting louder as the pleasure grew bigger with every move. 

Haechan chuckled, “I don’t need your words, I still know your body, babe.” 

“Then listen to it and make me come.” 

“So greedy, aren’t you?” 

“Haechan,” she cursed when he stopped, slipping his hand out of her pants. 

“Touch me,” he ordered, unbuckling his belt and lowering the pants on the floor while struggling to keep her body up. “If we can make each other bleed, we can make each other come.” 

She hummed, hand wrapping around his hard cock, pumping it with the same rhythm he was using on her clit now that his hands were buried again between her thighs.

“Did you think of me when his hands were on you?” He asked, kissing her roughly, nibbling her lower lip when they pulled away. “Did he make you shiver just at the slightest touch? Does he know you like I do?” 

She groaned, holding back a moan and a cry because the answer was negative. Jeno didn’t know her like he did. He didn’t touch her like Haechan did. It was good, but it wasn’t this. And she hated this. 

“Hyuck,” she moaned when his fingers slipped inside. 

“Hyuck, what?” He groaned, cupping her chin, forcing her to stare right into his eyes and don’t hide in the crook of his neck. 

“I — l,” she mumbled nonsense.  

He snickered when the words died in her mouth. “You feel guilty? Feel like shit because you’re here with me and not with him? Because you’re letting me fuck you after you pretended you wanted me to leave?” 

“Don’t,” she groaned. 

“Don’t tell the truth? Don’t tell that if you weren’t so fucking strong headed you would’ve crawled to me months ago begging for me?” 

She groaned, throwing her head back, holding back the tears as the orgasm felt closer, slamming a hand on his chest. 

“Where is he, now? Thinking about you? Maybe thinking about texting you — fuck — to tell you how much he misses you?” 

“We’re not dating,” she replied, “and don’t bring him — don’t bring him up.” 

“No?” 

“No,” she replied. “I’m — I’m close.” 

“Keep moving your hand on me, then, or I won’t make you come.” 

“You can’t — fuck — you can’t make up your own rules.” 

Haechan grinned, fingers stopping inside of her, making her whine. “You used to beg me to tell you what to do, what changed now?” 

Her breath faltered as she tried to grind against him to selfishly ride the orgasm but Haechan pulled away. 

“Think I don’t know your little tricks?” His eyebrows knitted. “Think I can’t read you with my eyes closed?” 

“You never proved it to me,” she replied, sniffling, heart racing and burning in her chest, the pleasure of the sex mixing up with the same, unbearable pain only he could put her through. 

“Don’t fucking lie,” he said, slipping his fingers inside again, lifting her up, and caging her body underneath his once he had turned her over, pressing her against the mattress. His fingers started moving faster, not caring that she wasn’t paying attention to his aching boner. “You’re underneath me, not him. And you know when he has you like this, he doesn’t make you feel half of what I make you feel.” 

She stopped trying to retort because she knew it was the truth. Jeno was good, so fucking good, but three months couldn’t compare to five years. He couldn’t compare to the one that made her discover all her kinks, the one she tried so many things with, the one she felt safe to even laugh or crack jokes during sex. 

“That’s it, that’s better,” he moaned, grinding against her thigh, trying to feel some pleasure too. “I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

“I’m gonna come,” she moaned, throwing her head back, nails digging into the sheets. 

“Only if you tell me I’m better than him,” he ordered, moving his fingers faster, making them curl right where she needed while his thumb moved in circles on her clit. 

“No,” she screamed. 

“No?” He asked, tilting his head, pulling out to let out a light slap on her clit, making her hiss and moan. “Lie again,” he ordered and she shook her head, lifting her hips up to meet him but he clicked his tongue. “Lie again.” 

“He’s… he’s better than you.” 

Haechan’s fingers slipped into her again, picking the same rhythm as before, making her stomach twist and her muscles shake. “Repeat it.” 

“He’s better than you.” 

“Again,” he ordered, growling as he felt anger and sadness mix. 

She cried out, thighs clenching around his wrist. “He’s better than you, fuck, Hyuck.” 

“Come, if I can make you come. Maybe we should call him, ask him if he can make you feel better. Should we send him a picture of you now? Would he hate you or would he hate me?” 

His words were barely registered in her brain when the orgasm washed over her, leaving her breathless, ears buzzing with static noises, and tears streaming down her face as guilt plunged over her. 

“Fuck,” she cursed, pushing him away, rolling to the side before she got up on shaky legs and then turned around to talk. 

“Don’t say it,” he stopped her. “I know, but I don’t want to hear it.” 

She sighed, nodding, and staring at him. “When I wake up in the morning, I don’t want to find you here.” 

That was the biggest mistake they could do. 

And they just did it. 

“When did you plan on telling it to me?” Renjun snapped, staring at her with wide eyes, almost dropping the piece of cake she had offered when he arrived at her place. When she called panicking he expected everything but this.  

“Never,” she replied, a puff of air coming out of her mouth loudly as she let her body fall against the couch. 

“After all the steps forward, you want to get back to him?” 

“I don’t want to get back to him. I don’t know what to do…” 

Renjun rolled his eyes, sitting next to her after placing the plate on the coffee table, he had lost his appetite anyway. “So that’s why he’s always around you and you let him. All the special things you got lately…” 

She nodded, biting a hangnail on her thumb, making it bleed. 

Renjun rubbed his temples. He sensed something was going on. All the flowers piled up in her living room. All the boxes of food sent to her workplace during the break. The tickets for a gallery they went together that she had by ‘pure luck’. The first print of her favorite book that was impossible to find. But he always imagined those things were coming from Jeno and they simply wanted to keep their relationship private. 

“But why?” 

“Because I’m dumb, and because I thought he was going to fail me again and maybe that would’ve made him suffer and at the same time helped me to forget about him at all.” 

“But he didn’t let you down…” He finished for her, sighing loudly. 

“He didn’t, and not only that but he’s surprising me, he… He proves to me that he listened to me and my passions, that maybe I’m not as dull as he made me think I was and he’s once again fucking with me. I don’t know if I can trust him, I don’t know if it’s for real.” She wasn’t going to add the detail of the other night, knowing well that if she did, Renjun was going to cut her head off, and he was right. 

“And Jeno?” 

“Why do you need to bring him up now?” 

“You said you don’t know what you feel for them. He treats you right,” Renjun said. “He treated you right since the very first moment,” he pointed out, raising a brow. Now, it wasn’t like he was siding with one of the two but… okay, he was. He just didn’t feel like Haechan was trustworthy, while he knew Jeno was genuine and cared about her a lot. 

She hummed, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. “He’s nice.” 

Renjun’s mouth widened, “Nice… that’s it?” 

“He… he’s a lot of things, okay? He’s sensible. He always encourages me, praises me, and tells me everything I need to hear. He respects me, my spaces, and my needs. And I know that I sound so ungrateful because I couldn’t ask for anything better than him but… I feel fine, I just feel fine…” 

He held back a loud, disappointed, sigh and shifted closer to her, caressing her hair. “And isn’t that good? You know that love doesn’t require pain, right? You don’t have to suffer to feel something.” 

“I know, but I never felt pain with Haechan… not until things broke. I miss the rush, I miss what we had before. Jeno doesn’t bring the rollercoasters, the stomach twisting in excitement, the goosebumps on my skin… and I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.” 

“I think it’s a good thing,” he said, smiling at her, playfully pinching her cheek. “Why don’t you focus on the other side? What does Jeno bring you?” 

“He makes me happy, and he makes me feel safe. I like him. And I like being with him but… I feel like there’s something missing.”

“What Jeno doesn’t have?” 

She sighed, looking into her friend’s eyes, and then shook her head, lowering her gaze because she didn’t want to see the disappointment in them once she answered.

“He’s not Haechan.” 

“I should’ve stayed at home,” she muttered under her breath struggling in the small bathroom of Renjun’s friend’s house, trying to clean her dress. She was there all alone because he had disappeared and Jeno didn’t even spare her a glance. After that ‘fight’ they had, he stopped talking to her at all, and she felt hurt once again. It didn’t hurt like a break-up but she couldn’t stand the silence between them. She missed him, a lot. But Jeno probably hated her. And she wasn’t even so sure about reaching out, afraid of hurting him more than she — apparently — already did. Maybe being aware of the pain we cause to others wasn’t as easy as she always thought, trying to survive every day we rarely see the bat swing we do around. 

“I was looking for you.”

She definitely should’ve stayed at home. 

“You’re drunk,” she blurted out, turning around, taking in Haechan’s flushed face. “Go home.” 

Haechan shook his head, blocking her from going out, pushing her back inside the bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” She stuttered when he closed the door behind him. 

“Shh,” he shushed her, leaning in, trying to kiss her. 

“You’re drunk,” she repeated, moving her head to the side, and slipping out of his hold, making him face the wall. 

“I only had a glass,” he replied, lips curled in a smirk, and she had no idea if it was the confined space, or the music that could be faintly heard in the background, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. It had been weeks since they had been this close, but trying to push them both out of her life wasn’t leading anywhere. 

And when Haechan moved close to her again, her breath faltered, eyes looking up at him, but this time she didn’t move. She let his hand wrap around her waist and the other rest behind her on the mirror. 

“I looked at you all night,” he whispered, leaning closer, nose brushing against her neck. “You never danced like this with me.” 

Her head was thrown back when his lips brushed on her skin. “You never looked at me,” she replied, squeezing her eyes because she didn’t want to think about that. About all the times she tried to get his attention just to be ignored because she wasn’t good enough.

“I missed out so much, baby.” 

“Don’t call me baby,” she retorted sternly. “I’m not your baby.” 

“I could make you mine again,” he said, staring at her. “I could make you feel so good.” 

“I didn’t forgive you, Haechan,” she said, shaking her head and pushing him away, reaching for the door before he could stop her. 

It was tempting, too tempting. Fall back in his arms, letting him touch her like only he could. But she wasn’t sure that was the wise thing to do, again. It only messed up with her more. Sex was never a good solution, and it was the very thing that led her to this even trickier situation. 

And she didn’t even realize that tears had started flowing down her face when she sat outside on the small step out of the main door, the breeze freezing her. 

Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why was it so hard with him? With them? 

Why did Haechan break her heart whether he loved her or not? 

“You’ll get cold.” 

She didn’t lift her head, she didn’t need it to know that he ran after her and now his jacket was resting on her shoulders to keep her warm. She didn’t even need to turn around to know he was staring at her now that he was sitting at her side. But she had no idea what he was thinking about as he stared at her. She felt like she couldn’t read him anymore, or maybe she didn’t want to dare to read him anymore since the last time she tried, they ended like that. 

“You know I hate you, right?” She whispered, voice faltering while her eyes focused on the pebbles on the floor. 

“I know,” Haechan sighed, staring at the same spot, their legs brushing together, his jeans heating up the exposed skin of her thigh. 

“But you know I can’t get enough of you. You know I can’t forget about our past. And not even about our future, even if it doesn’t exist.” 

“It can exist if you want to,” he pointed out, tilting his head to look at her, but her eyes were still focused in front of them. 

She chuckled bitterly, “Is it on me? Or is it on you?” 

“You have to forgive me.” 

She nodded. Of course, the responsibility was hanging like a knife, swinging back and forth, on her head. One wrong move and it would’ve hit her. No matter how it would’ve gone, she had a feeling the only one to come out of there battered and bruised was going to be her. 

“I don’t know what to do Haechan,” she whispered, head falling against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. Her eyes closed as she inhaled his scent deeply. He smelt like himself, not like Bora, or some other girls. It was just him. Home. Or at least what once felt like home. “I want to strangle you, and then I want to kiss you. I want you dead, but I fear I won’t be able to live without you.” 

“Weren’t we always like this?” 

“No,” she replied. “When we first met, I wanted to strangle you because you wouldn’t trust me and let me in. Now I want to strangle you because I —,” she stopped, intercepting the words that were about to slip out of her mouth before she could trip into a confession she wasn’t sure about. “Hate you. I hate you.” 

Haechan chuckled, or sniffled, she couldn’t get what sound came out of his mouth. “You know, I can’t blame you for feeling that.” 

“I just… I wish to know why,” she sighed. “Weren’t we enough? Weren’t we the best thing that happened to each other? We had so many plans, so many dreams, and all of a sudden you decided they weren’t enough.” 

“I was dumb, young, and superficial. I wasn’t insecure about you, I was insecure about me. I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror and instead, I pushed you out of my life.” 

She nodded, biting her lips harshly, pretty sure in a minute they were going to start bleeding, but the physical pain would’ve felt less painful than the mixed emotions she was feeling right now.

“I don’t know if I can get over it,” she confessed. No, she didn’t make up her mind, but at this point, she felt she was never going to make her mind up, stuck between the past, the future, and the future she had dreamt of for so long. 

“What are you doing here?” Renjun said, only seeing her at first before his eyes landed on Haechan and he groaned. “Haechan.” 

“It’s fine,” she said, standing up, and adjusting her dress. “We were talking.” 

“You should come inside, it’s cold here,” he said, looking at both of them, seeing that she was wearing his jacket. “Jeno’s looking for you. He needs to talk to you.” 

“I’ll come,” she said, following him on the steps. 

“Don’t go,” Haechan stopped her, grabbing her wrist. 

“Hyuck, please, let me go,” she whispered, pressing her lips together. “If you love me let me go.” 

And he did, fingers slipping away from her wrist, watching as she disappeared inside, brown wooden door slamming in his face. 

He tried to let her go, to don’t fixate his eyes on her as she talked with Jeno and then danced with him. Why were they dancing? He overheard they were taking their distances, that he was hurt because she didn’t love him, and now? What could happen in ten minutes to get them like that? 

If she wanted to make him jealous he was sure he wasn’t going to use Jeno, so was that a bad sign? 

‘come home with me’ 

‘please’ 

‘just to talk’ 

Haechan wanted to talk to her, there weren’t many steps to take to reach her, but they felt like miles now that he had a gulp in his throat, so texting her seemed like a better option, but she never answered. He couldn’t stand there and watch other pairs of hands run on her body, pulling her closer, feeling her in a way only he used to do. And now he understood even more how terrible it must have felt for her, how much seeing the person you love, give intimate attention to somebody else. 

He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t move his feet on the ground, friction keeping him in place. 

He couldn’t take away her happiness now that he had lost her. 

He should’ve started to deal with this, with the pain, with the boulder on his stomach, with the realization that he had lost her and it was all his fault. 

Haechan should’ve started to get used to this sight, Jeno holding her, hugging her, touching her, loving her, not more than he did, but surely better, because apparently, what he did wasn’t enough. 

And he would’ve. From tomorrow. Not tonight, not now after giving her one last look and walking out of the house, feet dragging on the concrete of Seoul’s sidewalks. 

From tomorrow. 

Yeah, it was a good start. Like all the projects of life. Tomorrow. It’s easier than today. It’s easier to set a goal far in time and manipulate your brain to think that you’ll have the strength to do it if some more hours pass by. 

It couldn’t have been so bad, right? If she moved on, if all of this courting didn’t move her at all after five years together, he, the one that led them there, should’ve forgotten about her in the blink of an eye. 

But as tears started streaking down his face, Haechan feared that maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy. That maybe starting tomorrow wouldn’t have been enough. Not enough time to take his feelings and throw them away. Not enough time to stop being selfish and keep alive the flame in his heart that wanted him to be the one she was going home to, the one taking her dress off her, the one she would lay her head on after. 

It wasn’t his place anymore. 

And the only person he had to blame was himself. He took her for granted, and now he was paying the price. 

Because no amount of flowers, chocolate cakes, books, or nights out, was going to take back all the pain he put her through. 

And as if to hurt himself more he went to the place that reminded him of her the most; the park where he used to hide when he wanted to see nobody, nobody but her. Their bench was still there, with blue paint coming off and other signs of time, but it was still up, unlike their story. They had shared their first kiss there, if he closed his eyes he could still remember it. It was a warm day in April, and as usual, he was sitting there in silence, and she approached him without saying a word. His past self hated speaking, especially after certain terrible days, and she knew it, but at the start, they didn’t need words. Or maybe it was her, she had so much to give that she didn’t need words to let it be known, and somehow he managed to don’t understand. Somewhere along the lines, he got lost in translation and blamed her for not being the one able to communicate anymore. 

Another flow of tears started streaming down his face as he realized he wasn’t going to feel her lips ever again. He hoped Jeno was going to cherish every single one of her kisses. The gentle pecks on the cheek or forehead in the morning and before bed. The small, quick kisses on the palm of his hands when he told her they were cold. The long, passionate ones when they were making love. The cheeky one when she wanted something. 

And when the hands of the clock moved too far, he got up, head low, hands in his pockets as the sky broke out in a louder cry than his. He had lost all his chances and had been taught a rough lesson about not taking the people he loved the most for granted or leaving them at the slightest rough turn. 

And it was a small consolation that the night sky was crying with him, it was like a shoulder to lean on, as if the upper hands were telling him that maybe there was going to be a rainbow after this storm, that even if he screwed up this one, he was going to find another one, another one that simply wasn’t the one. 

Someone that wasn’t her. 

Tomorrow. 

He repeated in his head as the water seeped into his clothes and stuck his hair to his forehead. 

Tomorrow the sun would’ve shined again, his brain would’ve stopped repeating the scene of her dancing in another man’s arms, or her words as she let him know there was no more space in her life for him. 

But tonight was going to be the loneliest as he walked alone without the best half of him. Only half a man carrying an empty shell in the dark, loud and frenetic streets of Seoul. People running back home barely paying him attention, reminding him once again how lonely you can be in this cruel world if you push the people of your life away. 

It was only a fair punishment he deserved to have. 

But he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t painful. 

Not when he still breathed her, not when she was the best part of him. 

And when he reached the steps of his house he didn’t feel the relief he imagined to feel. 

Those four walls brought him so much emptiness already, he didn’t want to imagine the feeling now. 

But he had no other choice. 

So he took a step forward, sniffling and squeezing his eyes. 

Haechan.

He chuckled bitterly. Voice replaying in his brain, sounding just like when she would scream his name when he used to run away from the school cafeteria to hide from the bullies. 

Haechan. 

He shook his head. Voice replaying in his brain, sounding broken just like when she would find him in the bathroom with his head in the toilet, vomiting everything he had just eaten. 

Haechan. 

He stopped. Voice sounding a bit too real for him to be playing tricks in his mind. 

“Haechan.” 

There she was, soaked in the acid rain, crying, looking at him while her lips quivered, and her body was shaking. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, incredulity filling his voice and eyes. 

“I was at a party, dancing with another man,” she started saying, sniffling. “A man I’m sure loves me so, a man I care about so much, too,” she stopped, taking a deep breath. “And I could only think about you.” 

“You said you can’t pass over what I did. You told me to let you go.” 

She nodded, squeezing in her coat, this was just like when they ended this. “I know… but I would only hurt myself trying to hurt you. And I would even hurt people that don’t deserve this at all. What’s the point of pushing you away if I look for you in every face? What is freedom if I can’t have you? Why am I forcing myself to believe that I can heal if I don’t have you?” 

“So, you’re hurt.” 

“I am, and I hate you so much. I hate you because I can’t truly do it. Because somehow you got so deep inside of me that if I push you out, if I kill you, I’ll kill a part of me, too. I hate you because you’re so… so irrational, and you never think twice, and this makes you do so many dumb things and last time it played us.”

“You don’t have to take me back… as much as I want you, I can’t force you into this.” 

She shook her head. “You’re not. I’m the reckless one that’s jumping into you again, because I would jump into you even if you were an ocean full of sharks, Hyuck. I’d jump into you if you were a volcano. And I know that right now, right where we are, it sounds so toxic and wrong and that Renjun will stop talking to me,” she dramatized with a light chuckle. “But I don’t feel alive when I’m with somebody else. They’re not you. They will never be you.” 

When Haechan didn’t reply she got that she didn’t convince him, and smiled bitterly. 

“We did a mess, didn’t we? I let you treat me like that because I loved you so bad. I would’ve done, and I did, anything just so I could call you mine. I was your willing accomplice. And you know the funny thing? I’d do it all again. I’ll take you back any moment because maybe, after all, we were both going down but didn’t see it with clear eyes. Because we… we are not so different from each other, we are two cowards, we run away thinking things will fix themselves and then act surprised when they fall apart. But if I can’t have you, I see no point in wanting somebody else. Because after all you are and will always be my favorite crime.”

“You’re better than me,” he replied, voice shaking, eyelashes clamping together with tears and rain.  

She shook her head, taking a step forward. 

“I hate you,” she said with a smile on her face. “I hate you so fucking much Lee Donghyuck. You made me fall in love with your dumb self again, I was so sure you would’ve failed...You should’ve let this fall apart, you should’ve given me a reason to hate you but God...I’ve fallen in love again.” 

“I love you,” he said, smiling back, reaching her, caressing her wet cheek. And kissing her. This wasn’t like their other past kisses, this was to seal a promise. This was to wash away the pain with the rain. To look at a brighter future that had rainbows shining in their sky. 

“But if you do it again, if you hurt me half of what you hurt me this time, I won’t be so gentle. I won’t take you back. I hate feeling like I’m going down, Haechan. I can’t take the same pain of the last year together. I can’t deal, and won’t deal with cold stares, and small replies. I won’t tolerate made-up excuses. I’m not like I used to be, I now know my worth. I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m beautiful, I’m a shining diamond and I want to be all of this with you by my side. But if you’ll leave me in the dust again I won’t waste a moment leaving you forever. You lost me once, you won’t get me thrice.” 

“I won’t ever hurt you like that. I learned my lesson,” he replied. “And I’m sorry, I truly am. For all the times I didn’t remind you how much I loved you, or how beautiful I found you. I’m sorry for looking as if I wasn’t listening to you or paying attention to your passions. I’m sorry that I put you in the last place every time. And I’m sorry for betraying you. I’ve spent nights up realizing how wrong what I did with her was. I couldn’t see it, brain fogged by other things that shouldn’t have been my priorities but I promise it won’t happen again. Not with her, not with anybody else.” 

She hummed, “you better because I’ll leave you in the rain if that happens.” 

He chuckled and then lifted her up, her legs wrapped around his waist as she let him carry her inside, the warmth of the house surrounding their freezing bodies immediately. But the cold seeped in their bones again when their wet clothes met the ground on the way to the bedroom. 

“I need you,” she whispered, leaving kisses all over his face, gasping when he let her body fall on the mattress. 

“I’m here,” he replied, kissing her neck, and then her collarbones. “I won’t leave you this time. I will never leave you again.” 

And he made sure to prove it to her with facts, time would’ve talked for his true intentions, but now he had her right there once again and he had to start proving it to her. So he did what he knew she liked best, just like he used to do when they first started dating and he still showed her how much he cherished her. 

“Haechan,” his name came out like a whisper, followed by loud moans when his lips latched at her mound. 

His tongue slipped inside her cunt before pulling out, lips wrapping around her clit sucking with intention. It was like Haechan had a mission, make up for the lost time. His nails dug into her thighs, spreading her wide enough so he could move better and take care of the whole area. It was messy, wet and even loud but none of the two could care. 

The idea of hiding or pulling her legs closed didn’t even cross her mind, just like trying to muffle the sounds of pleasure, letting out moans and whimpers and chants of his name while her hands wrapped around his brown hair and pulled him closer. 

She could feel Haechan grin against her, his chuckle vibrating against her before he pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers. “You needed this, didn’t you?” It wasn’t a mock, more like a teasing remark that put his heart at ease when she hummed and nodded. She needed him. She missed him. And he was so unsure of that, that he couldn’t believe it was real and not a product of his fantasy. 

When he dived in again she knew she wasn’t going to last for long. Haechan knew exactly what to do, how to please her, how to get her weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, lips still pressed against her pussy as he sucked and licked harshly. “You’re always so wet, so so excited for me.” He would’ve liked to ask if it was the same with him, if Jeno ever got her this excited, but he honestly just wanted to forget him. And make sure he didn’t cross her mind. 

When his fingers started moving faster into her and curl deeper, her hips started moving, meeting him halfway. 

“Uh, uh,” he clicked his tongue, his left hand leaving her thigh to press flat against her stomach, “need you to stay right there, baby.” 

“I’m gonna —” she didn’t finish, orgasm ripping out of her thanks to his swift and precise movements, tongue, lips and fingers working together in a deadly mix that left her trembling underneath him, moaning loudly. 

“Haechan,” she called when he didn’t stop, lifting her head to look at him, biting her lips when their eyes met. The way he was looking at her cutting her breath short and making her heart jump. “I don’t think I can…” 

“Take it?” He asked, pulling away, breath fanning on her soaked clit. “Babe, was it seriously so disappointing? Not used anymore to come over and over again until you’re nothing but a mess underneath me?” 

She hummed, closing her eyes, pressing her feet against the mattress. “I… I am, it’s just…” 

“It’s just?” He teased, curling his fingers, hitting the sweet spot inside her, making her scream. 

“You’re too… too good at this,” she confessed. 

Haechan smirked proudly, lips attacking her clit again, sucking with strength, pushing her over the edge for the second time.  

“Stop, stop, stop,” she mumbled, thighs closing around him and hips bucking messily. 

He scoffed. “I need to put you on the right track again.” 

She looked at him with foggy eyes, skin burning up as she stared at the way he was pumping his cock slowly. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Haechan whispered, running his hands on her body, caressing the curves before he leaned in to kiss her, moving his body between her legs. “Are you on the pill?” 

She hummed in agreement, biting her lips, and spreading her legs more. Haechan’s hand placed next to her head, while the other held his cock as he rubbed the tip against her slit. 

“Please, I need you,” she whined, hating the way he was teasing her. It had been too long since they had each other to play these games. 

“How much do you need me?” He asked, kissing her lips before doing the same on her neck, biting it enough to make blood come up on the surface. 

“So, so much,” she whispered through gritted teeth, breath shaking at the say he was still teasing her entrance and her clit. “Need you to make me forget about everything and everyone, please.” 

With a low groan, he slipped inside, thick tip enough to light a fire inside of her and make her hands reach for his back, pulling him closer. 

“Always ready for me,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall in the crook of her neck as he bottomed in. “Always so tight and wet, fuck.” 

“For you,” she whispered, rolling her hips against him, signalling him to move. “Just for you.” 

The world disappeared for real when he started moving with calculated and long thrusts, one hand supporting his body up and the other wrapped tightly around her hip. 

“Fuck, missed you so much,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, pulling back from her shoulder to look at her face. “Missed your thighs,” he whispered, gripping her there, pulling her legs further apart, and pressing them against the mattress. “Missed your lips, so fucking much.” 

She moaned in the heated kiss, hands wrapping in his hair and tugging, making him groan. 

“Nobody comes close to you, no matter how much I tried to — fuck — convince myself,” he whispered, a string of spit still connecting their lips. 

“Harder,” she whimpered, “I — I want you to mark me.” 

Haechan groaned, and obeyed, starting to suck on her collarbones and bite on her skin while his hands squeezed tighter around her skin, on her thighs, on her hips, everywhere he could. 

“Mine,” he groaned. “Always have been mine, never stopped being mine.” 

She knew it was true, that no matter how much she tried to fool herself there was something that was always going to tie her to him. 

“Never stopped loving you,” he whispered against the skin of her neck before his hands moved her body closer to his, angling it so he could hit better inside of her. 

“Fuck,” she moaned, head rolling back and her hand hitting the mattress at her side. “I’m close, again.” 

“Come, baby. I told you I’m not going to stop.” 

And another orgasm washed over her, but Haechan gave her no time to recharge, fucking into her with the same rhythm that drove her crazy. 

“I — I can’t believe this is real,” he whispered, sitting straight, eliciting a disappointed sound from her lips at the loss of contact. “I dreamed of you every night, it was like a — fuck — a nightmare. And it still wasn’t close to this, to you. You’re a dream and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you enough, I’m…” 

She moved up with difficulty, pulling him close to her again, kissing his fears, and tears, away. “I’m here now. And I won’t leave if you won’t leave me behind.” 

Haechan sniffled, shaking his head because this wasn’t the time to be vulnerable. “I won’t. I won’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” 

“Good,” she whispered, falling against the bed again, smiling when he got closer to her and started kissing her, a long, sloppy kiss while he kept fucking into her.

“You feel too good, I’m gonna come,” he hissed, the pace of his hips slowing down because he didn’t want this to stop. He wanted more. He wanted to stay buried inside of her all night until they were nothing but a mess of limbs and bones that for some miracle still fit together. 

And she knew exactly what was running in his brain. “Come, you can fuck me again. I don’t want you to stop.” It might’ve been a lot to take but she needed it. She needed it with him. To feel their skin rub against each other, and have the room filled with their lewd sounds of fleshes and wetness and moans. 

Her words were enough to push him over the edge. White cum spilling inside of her while his hips came to a stop against her ass. 

“Want to ride you,” she whimpered, placing her hands on his chest when he calmed down and making him roll to the side. 

Haechan didn’t complain, why would he anyway? And let her adjust on him, grinding on his cock, not even giving it time to soften. 

“I love you,” he murmured, looking up at her, sliding down on his cock slowly, the light from outside lighting up her features and her curves. “So much I can’t believe I was so stupid to let you go and not treat you right.” 

“Yes, you were,” she said, nails scratching his chest as she started to move her hips slowly, feeling him rub against her inside just like she wanted, filling her like only he could. “But I’m,” she stopped, words dying in her mouth. “I’m here, and I don’t want to think about it.” 

Haechan hummed, hands wrapping around her waist, guiding her movements. 

She rolled her head back, mouth hanging open since she couldn't hold in any sounds, the stimulation of his cock and her clit rubbing against him was making her go crazy. And Haechan knew it, she was still an open book and he remembered how to read her again. 

“Fuck, babe,” he moaned, cupping her ass and squeezing the flesh hard. She started bouncing on him faster, hands steady on his chest before one reached for his neck and wrapped around it tightly. 

“Revenge?” 

She chuckled, “I should kill you to get revenge but, fuck,” she stopped, thighs shaking and hips faltering as she could feel they were both so close again. “I love you too much.” 

“That’s it, fuck, keep moving like that,” he hummed, eyes moving from her face to her boobs that were bouncing up and down. 

Her moans got higher, fingers grazing his skin and hips slamming messily against him, Haechan started moving against her, meeting her halfway. And in a few seconds, they were both coming, this orgasm stronger the last one, leaving them panting on top of each other. 

“I got you, I’m here,” he whispered, caressing her back and hair when he heard small sobs from her. 

She hummed, hiding in the crook of his neck, staying silent for a while, enjoying his caresses and the way he was still filling her, lulling herself in the warmth of his body and the delicateness of his hands caressing her back while he whispered sweet nothings in her ears. 

“Please, don’t ever leave me again. I don’t even want to choose between having you in my life or not.” 

“I won’t. I promise I’ll treat you right just like when we first met.”

“I love you,” she whispered, rolling to the side, snuggling close to him again, leaving pecks on his shoulder and chest. 

“I love you, too,” he replied, caressing her hair and pressing his lips on her forehead. Still unsure this wasn’t all a trick of his mind and that she was truly there, in his arms. And it sure, it was going to be a long path trying to fix what was broken, but he couldn’t care. He was in his happy place and that was all that mattered. 

Things would’ve fallen into pieces, step by step, eventually, with time, tomorrow. 

Now, it was fine like this, with the storm raging outside and their hearts beating as one, lulling them to sleep as they found peace realizing that with others they were happy, but together they were happier.

a/n: I hope you liked it, please let me know your opinion whatever it is, I’ve read so many theories before publishing it and I’d like to know what you think after reading it (be polite ofc). Also, let me know if you’d like to read another part, I feel bad for Jeno and I had in mind to address how his relationship with the mc ended better here but then I decided to end it like this, mostly because it was already long. If you’d like to read more, though, I’d write it. And also let me know if you want to be kept/added to the taglist in case I’ll write more.

[silver-hwaberry]

NINETEEN: fears and reunions

Warnings: mentions of bipolar disorder, mental health and OCs fears around it, does not go into explicit details

Word count: 11.2k

Summary: It is the morning after the previous night's events, Seonghwa and Hongjoong have a conversation about Luna's condition. After some thought, Hongjoong decides to talk to her directly. Luna has a heart-to-heart with her mother before returning to the apartment, where everyone has come back from visiting their families.

(AN: this entire chapter is in 3rd person, I appreciate all the feedback on the different format and have decided to focus mainly on 3rd person now with Lunas 1st person POV during certain periods. Again any feedback on this is always appreciated! Thank you to everyone who has read, liked and reblogged so far!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“How was she this morning?” Hongjoong asks, a note of concern in his voice

“I don’t know. She left the apartment before 7am. I thought she was just on her regular morning run but when she still wasn’t back by 7.30am, I checked her room and her work things were gone.” Seonghwa replies. “I know she has a lot of work at the office today and maybe just wanted to get there as early as possible but it’s just worried me a little bit that she left so early.”

Seonghwa had messaged Hongjoong the night before to give him a brief rundown of what had happened. This morning he had got up early, planning to speak to Luna before she left for work. See how she was feeling after a nights sleep but she was already gone. It was now 9.30am and Hongjoong had called him after reading his messages when he woke up.

“When she told me about her bipolar, her main concern was that we would treat her differently. I wish I had been there last night so I could have reassured her.” Hongjoong sighs on the other end of the line

Seonghwa stiffens slightly at the implication, "Are you suggesting that I didn't do enough to reassure her?"

"No! That's not what I meant! You did your best. It's just...I feel so helpless!" Hongjoong exclaims, frustration evident in his tone. "I shouldn't have left Seoul. I should've stayed."

"You're our team captain, but even captains need rest. You couldn't have predicted this," Seonghwa says softly, trying to soothe his friend’s guilt. "Besides, Luna wouldn’t have let you stay even if you tried. Don't beat yourself up over this."

“You are right.” Hongjoong replies. “My dad is driving me back to Seoul in an hour or two so I will be home soon. Maybe I should get him to drop me off at the office instead so I can check up on her.”

“Do you think that is wise to do? Given how Luna hates being fussed over, she might feel cornered.” Seonghwa cautions

“I’m just worried.” comes Hongjoongs reply

"I understand your concern," Seonghwa reassures him. "Look, Luna's a fighter. She's been through so much, yet she remains resilient and strong. If you're set on seeing her before coming home, I won't stop you. Just tread carefully. We don’t want to push her away."

“I’m honestly unsure on what to do. As we get closer to Seoul I’ll see what my gut tells me. And you are right, she is an absolute fighter.” Hongjoong agrees “I am glad you were there for her last night. Do you think she’ll make things up with her mom?”

“Her dad assured me that this can be a common thing between them. Luna can’t suppress her feelings anymore and snaps, her mom gets more protective and Luna pulls away from her. He told me that they will patch things up either today or tomorrow but if it takes a bit longer, not to worry.” Seonghwa says as Hongjoong relaxes a little. He didn’t want a rift between mother and daughter when he knows how close they are and it is obvious how much her family, especially her mom means to her. “He also told me to reach out to him if we have any questions or looking for ways to support her without it being overbearing. He included the others in this.”

"That was considerate of him," Hongjoong remarks with a small smile, "Especially since they see you as her boyfriend and us as just coworkers."

“I don’t think he sees you all as ‘just coworkers’. He knows we all live together and I think Luna has been telling him little things about us all. He said he is thankful that we all look after her.” Seonghwa replies

“What are her parents like?” Hongjoong finds himself asking

“They are genuinely wonderful people. Her dad is really tall! A bit scary at first obviously but he is funny, down to earth and kind. He isn’t the scary old school military guy I had imagined in my head! Luna gets her caring nature from him.” Seonghwa answers with a small smile

“And her mom?” Hongjoong presses further

Seonghwa continues, “The same as her dad. Funny, laid back and really kind. She is tiny though, shorter than Luna but they look so alike. Obviously she can be pretty intense. She's fiercely protective of Luna, sometimes to a fault. But it all comes from a place of love. She wants the best for her daughter and can be a bit overbearing at times, but it's only because she cares so deeply.”

“It sounds like Luna is lucky to have such supportive parents.” Hongjoong reflects thoughtfully, “We just need to make sure she knows she can rely on the two of us, until she is ready to tell the others.”

“We will!” Seonghwa assures him, “We will be there for her as much as she will let us be.”

“Anyway, I should go make sure I have everything packed up. I’ll be back in Seoul soon,” Hongjoong sighs lightly

“I’ll see you when you get home and don’t worry about Luna.” Seonghwa replies before the pair say goodbye and hang up.

As Seonghwa gently places his phone on the sofa, his eyes shift towards her partially open bedroom door. Through the gap the early morning sunshine floods the room with warmth, casting a soft glow that extends into the little alcove between the lounge and her room. His heart sinks a bit, hoping that she is truly okay this morning.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hongjoong instantly feels relaxed the second he opens the door to his studio. It was his safe place, his little sanctuary. Spending 4 days without work was hard for him but he was determined to keep his promise to Luna that he would spend his break resting, enjoying time with his parents and his older brother who was also visiting them at the same time. He actually found that he was coming back to Seoul with a clear head though, the time away from his studio and work laptop gave him some clarity regarding the music he was currently working on, and he was excited to get started on it again.

He places his suitcase in his studio before leaving the small room and walking to the door next to his. Inside he can see a light shining through the frosted glass of the little window, a small smile creeping onto his face as he knows Luna is in there.

As he raises his hand to knock, a familiar voice calls out from behind him. Turning around, he sees Maddox, a close friend and fellow musician, approaching with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

“Looks like I surprised you.” Maddox teases him with a grin. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow morning at the very least!”

“You know me!” he laughs shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t stay away from here!”

Maddox raises an eyebrow in playful curiosity. "Don't tell me you have an English lesson with Luna on the same day you came home?"

Hongjoong quickly improvises, thinking on his feet. He couldn't possibly reveal that his sole purpose for stopping by the office was to see Luna. "Nope, not today! I just wanted to drop by my studio for an hour. But when I saw the light on in Luna's office, I can’t resist saying hi."

Maddox takes a sip of his coffee, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ah, I see." Something in the playful look in his friends eye made Hongjoong feel like Maddox was seeing through him.

“How was your break? Did you work nonstop like usual?” Maddox asks

Hongjoong shakes his head, a slight smile forming on his lips. "No, not this time. I even left my work laptop in my studio."

Maddox lets out a laugh. "Miracles do happen! So, you're here, probably itching to get some work done now that you're back."

“Caught red handed!” Hongjoong jokes, playfully holding up his hands

“Well I better go. I am doing a live in 10 minutes. I’ll see you next week as the team has the final meeting on the new bands album.” Maddox says

“Gosh, their debut date is so close now!” Hongjoong smiles, fondly remembering his own with Ateez. “See you next week!”

As Maddox walks down the corridor and disappears from sight, Hongjoong's attention returns to Luna's door. He quickly scans the area to ensure no one else is around before knocking gently. A moment passes without any response, so he knocks again, this time a little louder.

A loud groan comes from within the room, followed by some mumbled swearing in English. Hongjoong's stomach tightens with worry, fearing that he might have interrupted her from important work. Suddenly, the door swings open, revealing a frustrated looking Luna. But as soon as she sees him, her expression softens and she pulls him into her room by his hand, swiftly closing the door behind them. Luna wraps her arms around his shoulders tightly.

"Joongie!" she exclaims blissfully.

Hongjoong is momentarily taken aback by her sudden display of affection but quickly recovers, reciprocating by wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her just as tightly. Her head buries into his neck and he can feel her warm breath on his skin.

“I missed you so much, Joongie!” she mumbles

"I missed you too," he replies, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The sound of her calling him by that nickname sends a flutter through his heart. He takes a deep breath, inhaling her familiar scent of vanilla and coconuts. “I didn’t interrupt you, did I? You sounded a little annoyed when I knocked a second time.”

Luna pulls back slightly, looking up at him with affectionate eyes. "Of course not. I had my earphones in, and the loud knock startled me. I jumped and accidentally hit my knee on the desk."A faint blush colours her cheeks at the fact he heard her swearing.

“Is your knee okay?” he asks concerned

“It is fine! My own clumsy fault.” she replies “Why are you here? I thought we were meeting back at the apartment tonight.”

Hongjoong smiles and caresses her face gently with one hand. "I kept my promise to you - no work while I was away. I had decided to leave my laptop in the office and I wanted to pick it up before heading home."

Luna feels her heart swell slightly at the fact he had went so far to keep his promise to her.

“Plus I wanted to see you too.” he adds.

"Check up on me, you mean?" she teases gently. "I know Seonghwa would have told you what happened last night."

"Yeah, he did," Hongjoong acknowledges, worry etching his features. His voice carries a plea for understanding as he says, "Please don't be mad at him."

Luna recognises the worry in his eyes, mirrored from last night when Seonghwa asked if she was okay and when he told her he agreed with her mother about the big changes in her life. It was worry with a hint of fear in the eyes. It isn’t the first time one of them has said the words ‘don’t be mad/upset’ to her either.

"Hongjoong, do I make you feel uncomfortable sometimes?" she asks, searching his eyes for the truth.

Confusion flickers across his face as he asks, "What do you mean?"

"I've noticed in the past few days that sometimes you all seem a bit on edge around me," Luna explains. "It's like you're afraid to tell me something or voice an opinion like I'll fly into a rage or get upset."

Hongjoong hesitates before answering, searching for the right words. In that moment, Luna knows that her fears are not unfounded.

“I don’t want any of you to feel that way!” she tells him earnestly “I know I can be moody and hard to be around but I don’t want you all to be scared to talk to me or ask me how I am.”

Hongjoong's voice is gentle as he responds, moving one hand from her waist to cup her cheek. "Hey, you aren't moody or hard to be around. You make each of us so happy just by allowing us into your life. We're not scared of you; we just worry a little about upsetting you."

“I realise that I made a big deal about not wanting to be fussed over. However I don’t want any of you to be afraid of how I’ll react if you do. I know my condition will make you and Seonghwa worry twice as much, but I promise I won't get upset if anyone fusses over me.” she says, “The reason I said I didn't want to be fussed over is because of my moms over-protectiveness. I know it is because she loves me but I have to hold back so often with her, bite my tongue a lot that when someone else fusses over me, I tend to snap easily. I just didn’t want to take my frustrations out on any of you.”

Hongjoong nods in understanding, his dark eyes soft and sympathetic. "I understand, Luna," he says softly. "And I can only imagine the added stress and strain you must feel by concealing your bipolar disorder from the others."

Luna takes a deep breath before continuing, her voice trembling slightly. "That's why I've decided it's time to stop hiding and be honest with everyone about my bipolar disorder. I'm tired of living in fear, constantly worrying my sleeve will ride up or hiding when my medication like a dirty little secret. It's exhausting." She meets Hongjoongs gaze.

“Are you truly ready to do or do you feel you have to?” He poses the question to her, his voice gentle but probing.

Luna looks away for a moment, gathering her thoughts, before leaning back into his embrace once again. His arms encircle her protectively, and he starts rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"No," she whispers vulnerably, "I am nowhere near ready." She takes a deep breath and continues, "But I wasn't prepared for Seonghwa to find out and today I feel a little lighter. I told him everything, more than I told you about the scars, and there was no judgement. Neither of you have judged me."

“Baby, I'm glad you feel that way, but it's important for you to be truly ready." he cautions. “I don’t want you to do it and then regret it because it was too soon for you. Seonghwa and I will support you completely until that time comes, so do not worry about that.”

"I honestly don't deserve you," Luna sighs, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you."

They linger in each other's embrace for a moment, relishing the rare moment of solitude.

“Oh I had a meeting today. Whether it is good outcome or not I’ll let you decide since it involves you!” Luna beams up at him

Hongjoong recognises the mischievous glint in her eyes, prompting a smile to spread across his face.

“I am sure it will be good!” he chuckles, tucking some of her hair behind her ear

“The CEO has asked me to work with you all for the Japanese track. It’s mainly to ensure the Japanese lyrics and vocals are on point.” she says “Not that he doesn’t trust your Japanese!” she quickly adds, realising how her words might have sounded to him

“Are you kidding me? I think this is amazing news Luna!” he grins, feeling his stomach bubble with excitement

“I was hoping you’d be okay with this, me being a part of that process.” she returns his level of excitement. “I don’t know anything about making or producing music, and lord knows I am a terrible singer so should not be involved in any of that stuff!” she laughs before continuing “However I am very fluent in Japanese as it was the second language I learned as a child alongside Korean and I am confident in my skills in that regard. Eden has already given me the songs that will have a Japanese version and I am working on translating them now.”

"We're all pretty basic when it comes to Japanese." Hongjoong admits with a smile. "We usually bring in someone new for these tracks, someone we've never met before but it will be amazing to have you there, something we fully trust."

"I just hope I can contribute and not hinder anything," Luna replies.

With a gentle smile, he reassures her, "You will be incredible. We usually do vocals individually in the recording studio, given our busy schedules. I'll make sure it's just us and whatever member is doing the vocals at that moment, one on one to make the process easier for you." He reaches over to caress her cheek, his touch warm and comforting. "I'm excited to have you in the studio with me. It will be a great experience," he adds with genuine enthusiasm. “And getting to spend some time alone with you will be an added bonus.” his voice takes on a low, husky tone that sends butterflies dancing in her stomach.

His eyes drop to her lips, Luna noticing and instinctively tucking her lower lip between her teeth as his fingers thread through her soft dark hair. Her usual wavy hair is poker straight today, her long bangs perfectly framing her delicate face. With a slight tilt of his head, Hongjoong leans in and their lips meet.

It was the first time they’d kissed since their first one in his studio weeks before but also the first time they had been alone. Both being busy with work and like ships passing in the night. In this moment of pure solitude, Hongjoong promises himself to make more time for her.

The kiss is slow and comforting to them both. The outside world around them fading away as they get lost in one another. After what seemed like an eternity, Hongjoong pulls back slightly, his dark eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation or doubt. “I really missed you.” Hongjoong whispers softly.

Luna's feel a warmth spread through her chest at the way he is looking at her, his eyes filled with affection which she has never seen before from him. She brushes her fingertips against the side of his face. "I missed you too," she replies softly. She leans forwards to capture his lips once more but a firm knock at the door causes them to pull apart harshly. Hongjoong taking a few steps backwards and while Luna quickly fixes her tussled hair from his fingers before saying as calmly as possible, “Come in!”

Both Hongjoong and Luna look towards the door to see Hyunshik walk through the door. His usual mischievous grin on his face as he looks at Luna before spotting Hongjoong at the other side of the room looking at a textbook from Lunas desk in an attempt to look nonchalant.

“Oh hey Hongjoong! Didn’t know you were back at work!” he greets him

“I am not, I came to pick up my laptop then going home. Just wanted to say hi to Luna before I left.” Hongjoong explains

“Ah right.” Hyunshik nods. “Luna, reception called up, your mom has just arrived in the lobby. Ilsung is bringing her up as she has a lot of bags!”

“That will probably be food for everyone!” Luna chuckles. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“I have a meeting to go to so let me know if there is any leftover food!” he replies laughing too

“Oh you can bet on it! I’ll message you first!” she says

“That’s my bestie!” he grins holding his fist out for her to bump

“I got your back!” Luna replies with a smile reciprocating the fist bump

Hongjoong observes their interaction closely, his eyebrow arching slightly at the exchange. Hyunshik gives him a smile before leaving the room. Luna tilts her head, catching the subtle change in Hongjoong's expression. Sensing an unspoken question hanging in the air, she decides to address it directly.

"Is everything alright, Hongjoong?" Luna asks

Hongjoong's demeanour softens as he meets Luna's gaze. "Oh, everything's fine," he reassures her with a small smile. "Just observing the ‘besties’ in action."

Luna chuckles lightly, “Hyun is the only person I’ve made friends with in this place. He keeps bugging me to join the staff hangouts after work but it’s not really my scene.”

“Why not?” he asks

Luna ponders for a moment before responding. She doesn't particularly want to mention that there are certain colleagues like Chaeyoung and Iseul whom she can't stand. Although they don't attend these post-work gatherings, there are some who do that are friendly with them and she doesn’t fully trust them.

“I have enough friends. And with my relationship with you guys I don’t want more people involved in my life. I am a private person in general. With Hyun, we get along. He was the first member of staff to actually talk to me, we have the same sense of humour and I know I would have been friends with him if we’d met elsewhere.” Luna responds. “Does it bother you that we are friends?”

“No!” he answers instantly. “Not at all! I love that you’ve got a friend here! I just wasn’t aware you had been a close friend yet as you don’t really talk about your friendships with members of staff. It didn’t even cross my mind, which I know is bad and comes across like I don’t care.”

“Oh Joongie, I know you care, even when you are busy with work,” Luna reassures him, smiling warmly and reaching for his hand. “I notice the little things you do for me, like filling up my tub with fresh strawberries every day.”

“I didn’t think you knew it was me doing that.” Hongjoong replies, his cheeks blushing.

“I caught you doing it one night when you came home late. I was on my way to the pantry for a midnight snack and saw you in the kitchen.” Luna reveals affectionately.

Hongjoong goes to respond but they hear a noise outside her room door and he quickly lets go of her hand. Ilsung and her mom walk in. Hyunshik wasn’t kidding when he said she had a lot of bags! Ilsung has 6 giant bags of food while her mom is holding 3.

“Apples were my saving grace during my morning sickness with the twins.” her mom shares with Ilsung “I was lucky with Luna and didn’t have any of those symptoms but the twins were a very different story!”

“I’ll definitely pass that on to my wife. She’s tried everything, but the nausea really takes a toll on her at work, and I feel utterly helpless hearing how her day is being affected by it all.” Ilsung responds, a tinge of guilt clouding his tone.

“It is different for all women but giving the apples a shot won’t hurt.” she advises with a warm smile

“Thank you, I’ll grab some on my way back tonight,” Ilsung replies gratefully. “It was truly delightful meeting you, Eunbi.” He flashes a smile at her as Luna and Hongjoong observe quietly.

“You too, Ilsung. I wish you all the best for the future too!” she says “Make sure you take those bags to the others.”

Ilsung bows to her and nods towards Hongjoong before leaving. Luna looks at her mom and feels a bubble of nerves in her tummy. She knows they would talk and sort things out, like they always have done in the past but she was always nervous to have these talks.

“Oh he is such a lovely young man! His poor wife is suffering so badly from morning sickness, such a shame!” her mom says to Luna and Hongjoong

“Hi mom.” Luna says, rubbing at her arm

Hongjoong notices this from the corner of his eye. He longs to reach out and take her hand for reassurance but holds back due to her moms presence. His struggle between desire and restraint becomes apparent to himself as he grapples with his newfound feelings for Luna and his typically reserved demeanour that never allowed him to be openly affectionate – until now, that is. The days they spent apart made him realise how deeply he cares for her.

“Ah Hongjoong! It is lovely to finally meet you!” Lunas mom smiles at him

“You too.” he replies bowing to her

“I brought some food for you boys as well.” she says holding one bag to him “Nothing fancy, just some home cooking I did this morning.”

Luna can’t help but smile. She knew her mom would have been up at the crack of dawn cooking this. One thing she took great pride in was taking care of people and one way of doing that is through cooking. It was one of the many traits Luna got from her mom.

“They are still on holiday, Mom. Joongie was just picking up his laptop.” Luna explains

Her moms eyebrow raises, Luna instantly feels her heart skip a beat at the nickname slipping out. Hongjoong feels her body tense up from beside him and quickly takes the 2 bags from her moms hands.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lee. I'm sure the others will appreciate it," he says with a warm smile. “I am heading back to the apartment now so I’ll make sure the others eat and there will be leftovers for Luna when she returns home tonight too.”

“I’m delighted to see you have such a caring friend Luna! Someone who clearly cares for you.” she smiles as Luna nods trying to remain neutral and hide any hint of her true relationship with Hongjoong from her moms great detective skills. “And please call me Eunbi! My husband is Sam too! Make sure to tell the other boys as I am sure our paths may cross at some point and I hear enough of ‘Mrs Lee’ from my students and Sam hears plenty of ‘Major Lee’ at his job too!!” she adds with a light laugh to Hongjoong

“Of course Mrs L… Eunbi.” he says with a slight wince on his face as he bows again. Luna hides a smile as she knows Hongjoong will be hating calling her by her first name. Lunas mom also picks up on his face and gives Luna is playful wink. “It was lovely to meet you, but I should be going now. I’ll see you tonight Luna.” he adds moving towards the door

“Bye.” Luna says as he walks through it

Her moms voice echoes through the room, mischief lacing her tone. "Bye Joongie!" The door closes behind him just as quickly as her words had left her lips.

"Mom!" Luna protests, a soft laugh escaping her as she lightly nudges her moms shoulder. "That was mean!"

“I live with your dad! I need to get my kicks where I can!” she laughs opening the food containers as they sit down at Lunas desk.

As they settle down to eat, Luna feels another wave of nervous anticipation wash over her. The thought of discussing last night's events twists knots in her stomach.

“You and Hongjoong seem close.” Eunbi observes softly, breaking the silence

“Hongjoong’s been there for me. He has become a… very dear friend to me already.” Luna replies taking a sip from her water bottle.

She looks at her moms expression carefully, uncertain if she is hinting at something more than friendship or merely making an observation.

“He seems to care for you a lot and I like that he does.” Eunbi says with a fond smile “I know you have your core group of friends with Seojun, Nayeon, Jieun and Dasom, and they are wonderful kids but it is nice to see you letting more people into your life.”

After a pause, her mom looks at her with a serious expression. “Luna,” she begins, causing the knot in Lunas stomach returning. Has she saw through her facade of Hongjoong being a friend only? "I owe you an apology for my words last night. I should have approached you privately. I was under the impression that Seonghwa was aware.” she says

"I hadn't found the right moment to tell him yet," Luna admits, her eyes downcast as she focuses on the food in front of her. "I needed more time."

Her mother's voice softens with regret. "I'm truly sorry for forcing you into revealing something so personal before you were prepared."

“I should have told you beforehand not to mention it. But honestly, I didn’t think you would.” Luna says. “However, it was okay. Seonghwa wasn’t freaked out by it.”

“Why would he be?” Eunbi asks, her eyes full of concern as she looks at her daughter

"I’m not ashamed of my bipolar disorder… it just frightens me sometimes," Luna confesses, blinking back impending tears.

“Oh honey!” Her mother immediately sets down her utensils and rounds the table to envelop Luna in a comforting hug. Overwhelmed by emotional exhaustion, Luna sinks into the embrace, releasing all her pent-up emotions.

“It’s okay to be scared from time to time, but never forget how brave you are every day.” her mom says gently, brushing a strand of hair behind Luna's ear.

After taking a few moments to compose herself, she pulls back slightly and looks up at her mom with tear-filled eyes. The sight of her firstborn daughter in such emotional turmoil tore at Eunbi's heart. Like all mothers, the sight of her child in pain was unbearable. Yet, this was a pain she could not erase for Luna, no matter how much she wished she could.

“I don’t like people treating me differently,” Luna admits “and I don’t want to be defined by it.”

Eunbi smiles caringly, dabbing Luna tears away. "You are so much more than any label. Those who truly love and care for you you will understand that."

Luna sniffles, grateful for her moms reassuring words. "I know, Mom. I just... it's hard sometimes."

“I know honey, I know.” she replies stroking her head, “And I know I can make it harder for you, I am overbearing and smothering at times. I am so sorry for that.”

“I know why you are though.” Luna says looking at her mom, “You care a lot and just want the best for me but please just trust me. I understand that is hard given the hell I put you and dad through last year and you’ll probably always worry about me but I know how to look after myself now. I take my medication everyday at the same time, I see my therapist regularly, I practice mindfulness, I talk to my friends when things are tough and go for my morning head clearing runs. I am aware of things now and I am in such a happy place in my life with my job and with… Seonghwa.”

“I can see that. I know that he cares for you deeply, I could see that the second I saw him look at you last night. Hongjoong does as well.” Eunbi says, “Talk to them the way you do with your friends, let them in and allow them to help.”

“Hongjoong knows about my diagnosis but I don’t know how to tell the others. I’ve built up such a protective wall around myself regarding my diagnosis.” her voice falters slightly, “First thing I said to them when I moved in, was not to fuss over me with my allergies, don’t ask me how I am, or treat me different and speaking to Hongjoong this afternoon, I realised that I’ve made them all on edge with that. They are too worried to do those things now. I want to let them in, be closer to each of them but I don’t know how to without being guarded.”Another stray tear falls from Luna eye as her lip wobbles.

Eunbi looks carefully at her daughter, seeing the conflict in her face but also picking up on the way she is mentioning to the others. It is clear to her that Luna cares for more than just Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

“You have been little Miss Independent since you learned to walk! Wouldn’t let your father or I help you.” Eunbi smiles gently “Your health conditions have made you more guarded, which is understandable. However, don't let it prevent you from opening up to all of them and allow them to be there for you.”

Luna shifts in her seat, the hesitation evident in her voice as she takes a deep breath. “What if they see me differently? As a weak fragile person.”

“Oh my dear Younha,” Eunbi's words are filled with affection, speaking her birth name with a softness that catches Luna off guard but reassures her deeply, “opening up doesn’t make you weak. It takes strength to be vulnerable, to trust others with your heart and I know they will take care of you, all of them!”

Luna feels more tears welling up in her eyes as she looks at her mom, thankful for her. "I don't want to push them away," Luna admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eunbi smiles and replies, "Then don't. Let them in one step at a time, at your own pace, show them your true self - vulnerabilities and all. They care about you more than you realise, and together, you can all support each other through anything life throws your way."

A sense of peace washes over Luna's chest as she nods slowly, a glimmer of courage shining through. Luna knows her mom is beginning to understand the depth of her relationships. “Thank you mom!”

“I love you so so much honey.” Eunbi says kissing the top of Lunas head and hugging her once more.

“I love you too mom.” Luna replies

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Luna walks through the door and instantly can hear the buzz of activity in the apartment. Her face breaks into a smile; it's good to have everyone home. She takes off her coat and hangs it up before slipping off her sneakers. Suddenly a pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Surprised and delighted, a playful scream escapes Luna's mouth. She feels warm breath against her neck, accompanied by a tender kiss that ignites a spark within her. In that moment, she knows exactly who it is.

"Wooyoung!" she giggles, turning to face him with gleeful arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. His cheeky grin mirrors her own excitement.

“Miss me?” he asks playfully

Luna smirks, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Not really," she teases, barely able to contain her amusement. "I barely noticed you were gone!"

“Oh wow, that hurts!” he says pretending to be upset “Maybe I won’t give you any kisses then!” he grins

“Ha! I’d like to see you try to go a night without trying to kiss me!” she laughs in reply

In truth she missed him and he had missed her too. They all had but playful banter and teasing were Luna and Wooyoungs first instincts with one another.

“Just you see me succeed with that!” he replies

“Okay Mr Jung! Lets see how long you last!” she says, pulling away from him “I wonder if San is home yet…”

“Oh hell no, he isn’t getting kisses before me!” he pouts, holding onto her arm and pulling her back into his body again. “Not when I’ve been waiting by the door for nearly an hour for you to come home!” his lips capture hers as she lets out a muffled giggle

She throws her arms around his shoulders once more and kisses him back, happy to have him close to her once again but also secretly enjoying that he didn’t even last 10 seconds. His hands slip down to her rear, gently squeezing it as he pulls her even closer.

“Did you miss me though?” he asks, pulling back. Luna can see his eyes are serious.

“Of course I did Woo.” she replies softly. “A lot!”

“Good!” he smiles, placing another kiss on her lips. “As much as I want to pick you up, take you to my room and keep you all to myself for the rest of the night, we should go see the others.”

As Wooyoung and Luna walk into the kitchen, Seonghwa and Yunho are in there. Seonghwa is cleaning the cooker while Yunho is sitting at the kitchen island. Luna goes straight to Yunho and hugs him causing him to smile and pull her onto his lap sideways. He places his lips on hers while leaning her backwards, holding onto her tightly so she doesn’t fall as she laughs lightly. Luna is pleased to see how confident he is being at showing affection for her in front of the others now and she knows their night together has definitely made them closer. He gently pulls her upright, pulling back from the kiss but still keeping her close to him.

“Someones in a good mood.” she teases playfully as her hands play with the fabric of his hoodie.

"Just happy to have you home," Yunho replies contentedly, savouring the soft kisses she plants on his cheek, a chuckle escaping his lips.

Luna settles comfortably into Yunho's lap, feeling his warm embrace around her. But as she leans against him, she senses a presence lingering nearby. Turning her head, she catches sight of Seonghwa standing a few feet away with a gentle smile on his lips as he looks on at them. Sensing Luna's silent acknowledgement, Yunho eases his hold on her, silently granting her permission to approach Seonghwa if she desires. Grateful that Yunho has picked up on this, Luna pecks his cheek before gliding over to Seonghwa, who meticulously removes his cleaning gloves.

“How was your day?” Seonghwa asks leaning down to hug her

"Surprisingly good," Luna replies happily looking up at him, a shadow of her previous night's weariness erased. Seonghwa notices the visible transformation in Luna, putting his earlier concerns to rest.

"That's what I like to hear, darling." A warm smile plays on his lips, reflecting his genuine relief. She goes on her tip toes to place a kiss on his lips before resting her head on his shoulder.

As Luna and Seonghwa share a moment, everyone can hear the loud footsteps of someone rushing down the stairs. Luna pulls away from Seonghwa, turning her head towards the sound. Her eyes light up as she recognises the familiar figure stepping into the room.

“Ah my princess is finally home!” Mingis deep voice booms through the kitchen as he enters. Seonghwa lets go of Luna so she can go to Mingi as he watches on fondly.

“Mingi!” she smiles widely. As Mingi lifts Luna into his arms, spinning her around, she giggles and murmurs into his ear, "I missed you today."

"Missed you too," he replies gently, setting her back down on the floor and planting a kiss on her forehead. "Brought me any treats today?"

Luna feigns indignation, rolling her eyes playfully. "What do you think?! Of course I did! I got you cookies today."

As Mingis eyes light up at the mention of the cookies, Wooyoung chimes in “Hey! What about me? Am I not getting any treats?” he pouts

“You just got kisses, isn’t that a treat?” she laughs poking his side

“I mean kisses are great but a man needs his snacks too you know!” he replies, grabbing her waist and tickling her gently

“Woo, don’t!” she shrieks with laughter trying to get away from him

Luna's heart races as she tries to escape Wooyoung, who chases her around the spacious kitchen. Their laughter echoes around the room as Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi look at them with smiles on their faces at the playful scene. As she runs around the kitchen island her soft socks causes her to slip on the hardwood flooring. Wooyoung tries to grab her to stop her while Yunho who was second closest to her jumps from his seat on the bar stool to catch her. However their attempts are in vain as Luna hits the floor with a loud thud.

“Oh shit Luna, I am so sorry!” Wooyoung says the first to reach her

Lying flat on on her, Luna can’t help but laugh again as she looks up at the ceiling with the 4 men surrounding her on the floor. At this point Hongjoong enters the kitchen.

“What happened?” he asks, a smile on his face at hearing Lunas joyful laughter

“Luna fell over.” Yunho replies

“Oh god!” he says, his smile dropping. He rushes over, nudging Wooyoung out the way to get to her side.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa asks Luna, concern in his voice

“I am fine!” she manages to reply, trying to suppress her laughter.

“Are you sure?” Mingi asks, his eyes big and round as he looks down at her

“You fell really hard, little one!” Yunho says reaching out to help her

“Really guys, I’m fine!” Despite her assurance, Wooyoung stands off to the side biting his lip nervously, guilt weighing heavily on him. Mingi and Yunho help her up while Hongjoong supports her arm. "I'm surprised it took me this long to fall in front of you all! I am super clumsy on my feet."

Out of the corner of her eye she notices Wooyoung lingering in the background, his face clouded with worry. Guilt hitting him that his actions could have really hurt her. Instantly her laughter stops and she moves from Yunhos hold to go to Wooyoung.

“Hey.” she whispers, cupping his cheek, “I am okay, I promise you!”

"I could've hurt you," he mumbles, not meeting her gaze.

"But you didn't. My clumsy self has fallen over countless times before, so I think my body has developed some kind of resistance to injury by now." She tries to lighten the mood with a joke.

A small smile tugs at Wooyoung's lips as he finally looks at her, relieved that she's alright. Luna can’t resist leaning forwards and hugging him, feeling relief when he hugs her back tightly.

"I fall over my own two feet, I have a habit of dropping things, and sometimes I possess the ability to break objects just by casting my gaze upon them.” She looks over at her other boyfriends. "I've been trying my best to contain it around you guys," she continues, "but I think it's safe to say that Clumsy Luna has finally made her appearance. Brace yourselves for what's to come!"

Yunho chuckles, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "So what you're saying is we need to baby proof the apartment?"

Luna's laughter mingles with theirs, a token of gratitude for their light-heartedness in the face of the situation. Wooyoung leans in, his lips brushing a soft kiss against her temple, sending her heart into a flutter. Turning to him, she finds a gentle smile meant only for her. Drawn to him, she meets his lips in a tender kiss.

"San, Yeosang, and Jongho have collected the food," announces Hongjoong, glancing at a message on his phone.

"We've almost finished setting up. Mingi and I need to grab some drinks from the store quickly," Seonghwa adds.

"I'll get changed," Luna replies, gently extricating herself from Wooyoung's hold. He places a parting kiss on her forehead before releasing her. "Hongjoong, Seonghwa, can we talk privately?" she adds quietly

“Of course. Lets go into the lounge.” Hongjoong replies

The trio retreats into the lounge as Yunho watches them leave. Curiosity tugs at him, but he respects Luna's need for privacy.

“I wanted to thank you both for being so understanding.” Luna begins as they sit on the sofa, Luna in the middle of them. “The last 24 hours have been a lot for you Seonghwa. Your support and non-judgement means a lot.”

“There is no need to thank us darling.” Seonghwa says

“How did things go with your mom this afternoon?” Hongjoong asks, showing concern

“We talked it out, things are back to normal again.” Luna answers, “I’ve decided not to tell the others yet. I know I said to you earlier that I would but honestly, last night was hard enough. Not ready to go through that again so soon with 6 other men.” she continues, "If your offer to support me until I'm ready still stands, I'd be grateful."

“Of course it is, baby!” Hongjoong reassures her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a comforting kiss to her cheek.

Seonghwas eyes widen slightly at the sudden display of affection Hongjoong is showing. It isn’t something he has seen from his oldest friend and leader, nor has he ever seen him be affectionate with a woman ever! It was a running joke within the group that as soon as a female is in close proximity Hongjoong will be as far away as possible.

"We'll both be here for you, as much as you'll let us," Hongjoong promises.

"That's what I wanted to discuss too. I'm going to allow you all to fuss over me, for those who want to," Luna says, managing a smile.

"Really? We don't want to make you uncomfortable," Seonghwa cautions gently.

"There's a difference between showing concern and being overbearing. I think I was conflating the two. I want us all to have an open relationship—that includes letting you all care for me." Luna abruptly adds, "I want to tell Yunho about my bipolar."

"Are you sure?" Hongjoong asks, his hand cradling her cheek with care.

“The hiding has caused me gut-wrenching anxiety and Yunho’s noticed. I know he is worried about me.” she answers, “The other night we opened up to one another and I want him to know.”

She feels a small heat flash across her cheeks, wondering if Hongjoong and Seonghwa know what she truly means by that. Seonghwa had a sense their relationship had progressed to this stage, due to Yunhos recent displays of affection and now Lunas words only confirmed it for him and he is genuinely happy for them both.

“Do you want to do it now or leave it until later?” Seonghwa asks in a gentle tone

"It's better to do it now before everyone else returns. We won't have another quiet moment like this for a long time.” she says with determination

Hongjoong nods in agreement before slipping away to fetch Yunho from the kitchen. Luna seizes the moment to snuggle into Seonghwa, who warmly welcomes her embrace.

“How are you holding up?” he asks softly

“Good.” she smiles

Moments later Yunho and Hongjoong come back into the lounge, both sitting on the sofa beside Luna and Seonghwa.

“Is everything okay?” Yunho asks calmly, his voice reassuring.

“There is something we need to discuss before the others get home.” Hongjoong discloses as Yunho nods

Before Seonghwa opens his mouth to tell Yunho what is going on, Luna starts to speak. She knew it had to be her to say the words.

“Yunho, I have bipolar disorder. I was diagnosed at the beginning of last year during a very dark period of my life. My recent heightened anxiety has been caused due to the pressure I was putting on myself to keep it hidden from you all.” she says. Yunho nods and taking a moment to process the information. “Hongjoong has known for a while and Seonghwa found out last night from my mom. That is why we returned home earlier than expected.”

"Is that why you were so quiet last night too?" he asks gently, to which she responds with a nod. The way Seonghwa was looking at Luna, she was so quiet and subdued when they got home, not her usual bubbly self then falling asleep so suddenly - it all made sense to Yunho now.

“I am sorry for keeping it from you…” she begins

"No need to apologise. I'm just glad you trust me enough to share this with me," he reassures her, reaching for her hands which she gladly accepts.

“I feel bad dropping this on you out the blue and not being able to talk properly about it but I promise you we can talk more in depth tomorrow, or another day if you want. I will answer all of your questions,” she says, “yours too Seonghwa.” she adds looking back at him as he smiles in return.

“All I need to know tonight little one, is if you are okay.” Yunho says, his fingers tenderly squeezing her hand

"I truly am. Our talk the other night, Hongjoong and Seonghwa's reassurance today, and my talk with my mom this afternoon has lifted the crushing weight that has been on my chest for weeks.” Luna takes a small deep breath before a gentle smile lights up her face making Yunho heart skip a beat, “I feel like I can finally breathe."

Hongjoong observes Luna's change in demeanour with a smile. “I am glad.”

"Also Luna has now given us permission to fuss," Seonghwa interjects with a playful grin at Yunho.

“Finally!!” Yunho breaks into a smile, “Just wait until Wooyoung and San find out!”

The room fills with laughter as relief washes over them all.

"I should change out of these work clothes," Luna announces after the laughter subsides, still glowing with happiness. "Thank you all for everything! If only I could hug all three of you at once!"

"No need for wishes—group hug time!" Yunho declares, pulling everyone into an embrace despite Hongjoong's protests, causing Luna to laugh.

After the laughter subsides, Luna extricates herself from the group hug, her face still flushed with joy. “Alright, I really need to change now,” she says, her voice filled with warmth

With a quick smile she’s off, leaving the room with a sense of lightness that belies the pain beginning to creep into her side. Once safely inside her bedroom, she takes a deep breath and rubs her hip where a dull ache lingers. She's managed to hide her discomfort, not wanting to worry the others—especially Wooyoung. There was no need to let them know, she was only slightly sore, nothing major. She collects fresh clothes before retreating into her bathroom to wash away the remnants of the day and enjoy her night with her boyfriends.

In the kitchen Wooyoung and Hongjoong are sorting the plates and cutlery. Hongjoong can sense Wooyoung still feels bad about what happened. As worried as Hongjoong was when he found her on the floor and hearing she had fell over, he knew it was an accident and he wasn’t mad at Wooyoung.

“Luna’s tougher than she looks.” Hongjoong says casually, trying to ease his worries but not make a big deal about it.

“I know, but it is still my fault she fell over. I was playing around with her.” he sighs, remorse clear in his voice as he opens the cupboard door and begins to retrieve the glasses. “I am responsible for her fall.”

“She wasn’t injured though.” Hongjoong says

Wooyoung nods, knowing he is right but still feeling a sense of unease lingering within him. “I just want her to feel safe with me,” he admits quietly, “not frightened that I might harm her.”

Hongjoong feels his stomach drop a little at hearing this, he places a reassuring hand on Wooyoungs shoulder. “She won’t feel that way! Luna understands accidents happen and she has told us how clumsy she is. She is a tough little cookie, she can handle a tumble now and then.”

“Thanks Hongjoong. To be honest I was bracing myself for a scolding from you, I wasn’t expecting this.” Wooyoung says with a small smile of relief on his face as they move into the lounge

“Captain mode will be activated tomorrow!” Hongjoong laughs lightly, glad to see his friend is feeling less burdened.

As they continue to set up the coffee table Mingi and Seonghwa return from the store. They have bought extra snacks with the drinks. At the same time Luna emerges from her room dressed in a pair of cream sweats with a long lilac coloured sweatshirt. Seonghwa can’t help but notice how content and comfortable she looks tonight. Immediately she goes to Wooyoung and hugs him close, wanting to give him extra reassure for earlier. He relaxes into her embrace, his arms loosely wrapping around her waist.

“I’m truly sorry about earlier.” he whispers into her ear

“No more apologies.” she smiles softly pulling her head back from his neck to look at him, her fingers running through his soft black hair. “Now where are my Woo kisses?” she asks with a playful glint in her big brown eyes that cause him to melt a little

“I’ll give you all the kisses you want, lil cutie.” he smiles back at her before capturing her lips

The warmth of Wooyoung's lips against hers sends a shiver down Luna's spine. She melts into his embrace, her heart racing with joy. One of his hands slowly travels down her back, before sliding under the soft fabric of her sweatshirt to feel the warmth of her skin beneath it. Luna smiles softly into the kiss as she tastes the light minty flavour on his tongue from the gum he must have been chewing earlier. As their lips separate Wooyoung leaves a series of playful pecks along her jaw and into her neck as she giggles lightly.

From the doorway, Hongjoong observes the intimate scene with a satisfied smile. He feels a wave of relief seeing Luna's radiant happiness and the dissipation of Wooyoung's worries. His eyes meet Seonghwa's as he passes by en route to the kitchen.

“He is whipped for Luna.” he says lowly, nodding his head towards the pair causing Hongjoong to chuckle.

“Aren’t we all!” Hongjoong simply replies following him

The mellow chime signalling the arrival of San, Yeosang, and Jongho with food pulls Luna and Wooyoung from their bubble. With playful cheekiness, Wooyoung lightly pats Luna's rear and disentangles himself from her.

“You should go see San, I know the mans been eager to see you since he came home.” he smiles at her

“You sure?” she asks him as he nods, wanting to make sure he was okay with her going to San. “Okay, save a spot for me beside you!”

“I’ll make sure I get us one of the corners so we have more space then can go into the corner of the sofa when we are finished eating.” he replies, feeling a flutter in his stomach at Luna wanting to be beside him for the rest of the night.

“Could you go into my room and get my blanket for us to cuddle under?” she asks as San and Jongho come into the lounge with the pizza boxes and food containers. “It is on the chair at my desk.”

“Of course I will.” he replies, pecking her lips before letting her go

Luna makes her way over to San who quickly puts the boxes on the coffee table before grabbing her into his arms. It was clear to see by Wooyoung and Mingi who looked on that San had missed Luna a lot, as she had with him. Wooyoung goes into her bedroom to collect her blanket while the others start to come into the lounge.

“It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever, sunshine!” San smiles lifting her up into his arms

“We face timed this morning when I got to work!” she laughs

“Not the same as seeing you, face to face, being to cuddle you,” he hums “ and kiss you again.” he mumbles quietly looking into her eyes

A smile tugs at Luna's lips as she leans in to give him a tender kiss. "I missed you so much," he murmurs against her lips.

"Me too," she replies with a content sigh, happy to see him and that everyone is back home again.

San gives her another kiss, carefully putting her back on the ground, his hands moving to her waist to keep her body close to his, pressing his forehead against her with his eyes closed. Luna's delicate fingers glide through his blond hair, the golden strands starting to reveal darker roots underneath. Wooyoung returns with the blanket in hand, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the scene unfold.

“Is everyone ready to eat?” Jongho says coming back into the lounge, his eyes resting on the couple.

“Absolutely, I am starving!” Yeosang says coming in behind him

San and Luna pull away from one another, San letting go of her waist. Before making her way over to Yeosang she softly kisses Sans cheek. It seems kisses were on the cards for everyone at this point as Yeosang is next in line. Jongho can only watch on as he goes to sit on the floor, wanting to hug her too but feeling too awkward.

“It is so nice to have everyone back home again!” Seonghwa says sitting beside Jongho, his legs stretched out under the coffee table and his back resting against the sofa

“Oh I am so looking forward to this tonight!” Luna smiles as she sits on the floor beside Wooyoung. He instantly pulls her onto his lap, wrapping her blanket over them both and puts his arm around her. His nose nuzzles into her neck, kissing the skin making her smile more.

“Before we get fully settled into our night, I have some good news for you all.” Hongjoong says as he comes into the lounge

His announcement commands attention. The room falls silent as everyone turns to face him, curiosity piqued.

"Once we return from LA, we'll begin working on our new Japanese song and album," he reveals, "Luna will be joining us for the translations and pronunciation!"

The room erupts into loud excitement as Luna can only blush and hide her face into Wooyoungs chest.

Mingi grins broadly. "I was hoping you'd be part of it!"

San adds his own praise. "We couldn't ask for a better translator or pronunciation guide for this album."

Luna peeks out at the others from Wooyoungs chest. “Thanks guys. I honestly shouldn’t be anywhere near a recording studio or associated with it in anyway as I sound like a dying cat and I am completely tone deaf! However, languages and translations are my speciality so I will work extra hard for you all.”

“Just be yourself, don’t stress yourself out over it. You are amazing at what you do and we have complete faith in your skills.” Seonghwa says

“I spent most of today doing the song translations from Korean and Japanese and over the next week I’ll be working with Hongjoong and Mingi on their lyrics for the new song.”

Mingi gasps dramatically. "So you already know which songs are on the album?"

She nods, amused by his reaction. "Based on your surprise, I'm guessing you didn't?"

Jongho interjects eagerly. "Which songs?"

"Cyberpunk and New World," she reveals, then frowns slightly. "You guys really didn't know? Was I not supposed to tell you yet?"

"Don't worry, Luna. I'm sure Eden planned to tell us tomorrow." Hongjoong laughs easing her concern she had revealed something she shouldn’t have “We will all just act surprised when he does!”

“I am slightly nervous as I’ve never translated something so important before but I am also excited to see the whole process. See you all recording too.” she says

“We are thrilled to have you working with us on our music. But even if you weren’t involved in a professional level, we would still have wanted you there for it.” Jongho says from the opposite side of the sofa. His gaze holds hers, a genuine smile on his face that makes her heart flutter.

“Absolutely!” Yunho agrees, “Now lets dig into the food before it gets cold!”

The guys begin to open the pizza boxes as Luna feels Wooyoungs arm around her tighten, his fingers playing with the fabric of her sweatshirt. “It is going to be awesome, jagiya.” he whispers kissing her softly

“Dear god Wooyoung, let Luna breath! You’ve had your lips attached to hers since she got home!” Mingi teases with a chuckle

Grinning mischievously, Wooyoung fires back, "Oh please, Mingi. You're just jealous that she wants my lips tonight and not yours!" Laughter fills the room.

“I had lots of Luna kisses while you were away!” Mingi replies with a smirk

“Oh my god!” Luna groans dramatically, rolling her eyes but unable to conceal the smile tugging at her lips.

“Guys maybe we should take it down a notch,” Yunho interjects gently, mindful of Luna's comfort. After she confided in him about her insecurities, he was extra cautious not to escalate any teasing that might make her feel uneasy. Concerned that the route the conversation was going down could lead to that situation, he wanted to slow it down now.

“It is cool.” Luna says smiling over at Yunho, letting him know she was fine with the current level of banter. “Woo just needs extra attention tonight, isn’t that right little baby!” she adds playfully looking at Wooyoung as he pouts back at her causing her to peck his lips as the others continue to laugh

As everyone begins to start taking the food and pouring drinks, Jongho's gaze remains fixated on Luna and Wooyoung, who seem to be lost in a little bubble of their own. He observes as Wooyoung leans in close and whispers something into Luna's ear, earning a sweet giggle from her before she gently hits his arm playfully and places a tender kiss on his cheek, and Jongho can't help but envy the easy intimacy between them.

His chest feels heavy, aching to embrace her closely like Wooyoung is, to share whispered conversations that light up her face with joy, and to feel the warmth of her lips on his cheeks

He felt the same way when he saw San kissing her, Yeosang too. It wasn’t jealousy he felt towards the others, far from it. Just a sense of longing that fills his heart as he yearns for a connection like theirs – to hold Luna close, whisper into her ear, and make her laugh effortlessly. The accidental closeness they shared last night, when Luna fell asleep on his shoulder, only amplified these desires.

Just as Jongho contemplates his own desires for Luna to reciprocate his feelings, their eyes meet. His head screams to look away, fearing that she might see the intensity in his gaze and feel uncomfortable by it. However he finds himself incapable of turning away, captivated by Luna's radiant smile and the adorable scrunch of her nose as she winks at him. In that moment of a shared moment between just the two of them, the heavy weight on his chest evaporates into a comforting warmth that spreads throughout his entire body. Unable to resist, he returns her smile, recognising the unspoken connection they are having.

“Luna, we went to that vegetarian place you told me about the other day so we could get you the tteokbokki you love.” Yeosang says handing the food container to her

“Ooooh!” Hongjoong exclaims, his eyes widening at the sight of it. Memories flood back of Luna bringing him some tteokbokki on the day she visited his studio for lunch, and how delicious it was.

“You want some?” Luna asks him with a grin on her face

“N-no!” he stammers, “That is your food. The guys got it for only you.” but Luna catches his longing glance at the food

Luna rolls her eyes playfully and picks up an empty bowl, she tips some into it and leans over Wooyoung passing it to Hongjoong who is sitting beside him.

“Just take it or I will get annoyed with you!” she says with a hint of teasing in her voice as Hongjoong shakes his head at the offering

“Thank you Luna.” he smiles appreciatively at the sharing of her food

“What exactly does vegetarian tteokbokki taste like?” Wooyoung curiously asks

“According to my friend Nayeon, who hates anything vegetarian it is exactly like proper tteokbokki. Obviously I can’t confirm that since I’ve never had it with fish cakes or fish sauce.” Luna answers holding a rice cake up for him to eat

“Well I can confirm it does and it is amazing!” Hongjoong smiles passing it around the others to try

“Wah! It does!!” Wooyoung exclaims in surprise and enthusiasm after trying the dish.

The others all chime in, quickly polishing off the portion Luna has passed to Hongjoong.

"BBT sent us some clips of the choreo they’ve been working on for the tour," Yunho beams. "It looks really good!"

“I took a quick look at it earlier. It is definitely going to be challenging, but we will nail it with practice.” Mingi replies, nodding in agreement

"Cyberpunk is shaping up to be quite the spectacle from that sneak peek!" Yeosang grins. "I think it will leave a lasting impression!"

Luna’s ear prick up at this, wondering what he could mean by it. She chews slowly on the pizza in her mouth as she ponders it.

“Yeah, the surprise element in this choreography will for sure blow everyone away! I can’t wait to see the full routine tomorrow and get started on it.” Wooyoung exclaims eagerly

Luna couldn't contain her curiosity any longer and blurts out, "What kind of element?"

"Oh, you'll just have to wait and see, little one! I have a feeling you in particular will appreciate it!" Yunho teases with a sly grin, causing Mingi to chuckle and adding to Luna's intrigue.

"Make sure you swing by the practice room after lunchtime so you can witness it firsthand." Wooyoung joins in with the teasing pulling her closer

“Okay, I haven’t watched the clips yet but now I want to know what this is too!” Jongho interjects, his own curiosity setting in as the others laugh

The group continues to chat as they eat all the food until they were all full. Luna stayed on Wooyoungs lap the entire time, happy being close to him and not feeling awkward around the others either. Sharing her fears with Yunho, receiving reassurance from Yeosang the next day, the previous day's events, Seonghwa's supportive response and the heart-to-heart with her mom, Luna finally feels completely relaxed and unburdened. She knows that the day will come really soon where she needs to reveal her bipolar disorder to the rest of the guys but she is no longer scared for that moment now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @kiwibaekie @fudgeflyssworld @kodzukein @elk-1998 @khjcoo @pepperony-7 @ateez-babygirl @starillusion13 @stephy-nicole13 @truthbehindthereflection @livingdeadlisa @stayteezdreams @atinyapple1117

[s4r1n-g4s]

Amusia Concept (Cannibalism TW)

Still late, but thankfully at 10pm. So yeah, not in the am yet. (I need sleep). Anyways, Amusia is a MSM horror AU about a second cataclysm. But wait, how did this happen? So there is confusion amongst the colossal and Titans, as they are still wondering why the Celestials integrated the natural colossal (and Zarroë) with the magical Titans. Grennech and Zarroë view the magical titans (and the magical monsters) as a threat and want them exterminated, Frigil does not trust them but won't complain about them, Hyddryd and Sollum are neutral, and Dulcettéa wants to help them. Zarroë attacks the magical Titans, therefore causing disorder in the monster world. As the colossals had been isolated for so long, they are stuck in their own ideologies, and a war between them starts. Therefore, a second cataclysm starts.

Only this time, it's worse.

You see, the Colossals have forgotten how to sing once again, but now it's affecting the monsters too. Without their song, some of them lose sight of who they are and go insane. Some of them are so manic that they have no idea of the atrocities they are committing, others are purely out for blood, and the worst ones are the cannibals. They are constantly on the hunt and will indulge in whatever prey they can find. They seem to be physically affected by this too, seeming to feel constant hunger with no way to satiate. Davy, unfortunately, cannot turn off his mind-reading abilities, so he is constantly listening to the delirious thoughts of others who are either terrified or gone. Sometimes even he wonders if he'll protect himself from this deadly mind virus... Feel free to ask me about some of the pre-Amusia lore, and the dynamics between characters! Bear in mind that I will not give super complex answers, as I want to avoid spoiling as much as possible! Reblogs appreciated! I hope this doesn't flop...

[saltiestgempearl]

Today is the day! At long last, I can talk about my absolute favorite headcanon about Dr. Seward with you all.

I'm writing a new post about it instead of just reblogging my post from last year because that post is not spoiler free. That is, I posted October 22 of 2022, so it does mention things from entries that have not happened yet in the 2023 Dracula Daily.

That said, most of it is still fine now that the September 3 entry has arrived, so I have put together a slightly edited version that does not touch on anything that happens after the September 3 Dracula entry:

It starts out with this passage from today's entry:

How can he'—and he pointed at me with the same look and gesture as that with which once he pointed me out to his class, on, or rather after, a particular occasion which he never fails to remind me of—'know anything of a young ladies? He has his madmen to play with, and to bring them back to happiness, and to those that love them.

The thing is, that's not exactly the wording in the original book. In the original book, it says “He has his madams to play with, and to bring them back to happiness, and to those that love them.” Many people write this off as a typo to the point of changing it to “madmans” or “madmen” in some versions.

But what if it wasn’t a typo?

The word “madam” implies an older woman, like anywhere from middle-aged to elderly. And at the time, it was not at all uncommon for women in this age group to be sent to asylums to recuperate. Sometimes it was just a way to get female relatives you didn’t like out of the way, but sometimes it wasn’t.

You see, many Victorians (men and women alike) unironically bought into the “delicate woman” narrative. People really, genuinely thought women were just psychologically more predisposed to mental instability.

Anyway, the headcanon is that Seward actually started out as a relatively low-level psychologist at an asylum, primarily working with middle-aged to elderly women. And being the inquisitive man he is, he interacted with the patients in a less-than-conventional way, letting them talk about things that would normally be considered signs of imbalance by the contemporary medical community (e.g., “sometimes I wish I’d never had my children,” “sometimes I just want as little to do with my husband as possible,” “honestly those suffragettes make some good points,” etc.). This isn’t to say he was some feminist icon mind you; he didn’t even necessarily agree or legitimize these ideas. But he didn’t shoot them down either—he just listened. And by engaging with the women in this way, he was essentially exploring some of what we now call talk therapy, which was very much not a thing at this time. He may have also tried to be supportive of their hobbies, which while not unheard of (institutions like Bedlam set a precedent for this), was not the most common thing either.

So he did this for a while, and surprise surprise, it actually helped these women quite a bit. He quickly got a reputation for being someone who was unusually gifted in turning around cases of “nervous disorders” that were so common with these delicate womenfolk.

But then some higher-ups decided “oh, well if he’s good with this, he must be good with insane people too.” So despite being a 29-year-old budding psychologist in a very young field, he suddenly found himself the head of an asylum with a very different sort of population to treat.

Given why he was put in this position, Jack naturally continues using the methods that helped his former patients recover so spectacularly. The issue is, of course, that people who are dealing with psychosis or other more serious conditions generally need a different approach than neglected women with anxiety. Basic talk therapy isn’t going to cut it with someone like Renfield.

But again, this field is very young, so Seward is actually relatively limited on how much he can research this. So he continues with his talk therapy, but then adds things like straightjackets into the mix when his patients have meltdowns because that was also a relatively accepted solution at the time (though not universally so; even in Bram Stoker’s time, there were some professionals in the field who had figured out that this type of manual restraint was not helpful and honestly not humane.)

It’s also possible that Jack might have had some criticism early on for not being firm enough with his more “difficult” patients, so he might have overcompensated for that by using the straightjacket solution more often when things got out of hand.

And finally, Jack also has his mad scientist tendencies that he openly grapples with in his diary—you know, the sort that caused him to make wildly irresponsible decisions like “let’s let Renfield escape, but supervised, and see what happens.” And since Jack was the head of the hospital, no one shot down this obviously ridiclous idea because they probably didn’t have the authority to.

TL;DR: The headcanon is “maybe Van Helsing did mean ‘madams’ because Jack started off wildly successful in treating older women with anxiety, and as a result was catapulted into a much more powerful position he was neither properly trained for nor mentally ready for.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 42

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Almost lost this chapter bc my computer went nuts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You hit delete chat in the conversation settings. You leave it just as blank as before and close out the app. Just like Dr. Kemp said to. He can’t be there right away but he has a better plan. You’re not good at those anyway.

All you have to do now is wait out Andy. He’ll be going to work come morning and you’ll be alone. Then you can take your things, the things that are really yours, and leave. Finally. You realise that’s exactly what you’ve been longing for. A way out.

The hard part is still ahead of you. Freedom is still just out of reach. You have to pretend that everything’s fine but you’re realising, you’ve been doing that for a while.

You shake off your nerves and roll the tears back behind your eyes. You can cry later. Even as your cheeks strain and your nose tingles, you resist. Not yet, not yet.

You finish tidying up the tablet, trying to leave it as you found it. With not much else than your drawings. You close the cover and bring it with you as you turn off the lights and head upstairs. You sop up the mess in the bathroom and leave it dark. 

You hesitate to approach the bedroom. You hear Andy’s snores, low and steady. Your skin crawls. You enter and put the tablet on the small side table where you charge it. You hang the damp robe and face the bed.

For the first time in your life, you want to hurt someone. You’re not afraid of being the one hurt. You really want to hit him and kick him and just let out your fury on him. You can’t and you won’t. You’re not who he told you you are. And you’re not strong enough for that. You’re still too small, too weak.

So you near the bed and climb under the covers. You move slowly as you pull the duvet to your chin. He snorts, making you wince, and sidles up behind you as he wraps his arm around you. You go rigid but fight through the ice that threatens to encase you. He can’t know, he can’t know.

“Mmm, where were you?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Had a bath,” you squeak, putting your hand over his. You want to rip him away but instead, you squeeze, holding him tighter. “Sorry.”

“Nmph,” he grumbles and nuzzles your crown, just as quickly drifting back into his rhythmic snores.

You exhale little by little. You close your eyes but just as quickly open again. You know you won’t sleep. You can’t. Not with him as good as on top of you. Not knowing what awaits you in the morning. But mostly, not with that needling guilt in the nape of your neck.

Amber.

You betrayed your own sister. You treated her like a villain. You demonised her. You ostracised her. You left her!

You don’t know if she can ever forgive you. You can’t blame her for that. Worse, you don’t think you’d let her forgive you. You don’t deserve it.

You feel brittle as you bite down on your cheeks. No crying, not yet, you remind yourself. For once, you have to do things right. You have to follow through. It’s up to you now.

🕊️

“I didn’t know you could make crepes,” Andy smiles as he cuts into the roll, compote fruit and syrup oozing out.

You do your best to mirror him, making a show of nibbling away at your own food.

“I found a recipe,” you tap your tablet, not far from you.

“That’s great. You’re… doing better.”

“I’m trying,” you assure him, “I hope it doesn’t make you late for work.”

“Hm? Oh, no, breakfast with you is worth it,” he pops a bit into his mouth and hums. You regret not spitting in it, repulsed by the thought when it came to you, but now, not so much.

He can sit there and lie to you. It makes it easier for you to do the same. He’s been lying this entire time. Making you feel like you’re a problem. A burden. No, you were a thing to be used. To be exploited. He never liked you, the girl he calls dove, he only liked what he could get out of you. And he got off on it.

He took Amber from you. He did that. Yes, you’re stupid for falling for it but he knew what he was doing. He lied to you. And you know exactly how he did it. 

He took all that therapy and twisted it around on you. You wonder why he even bothers with Dr. Kemp when he’s not trying to change. More than the narcissist he branded your sister, he’s a psychopath. You found that on the internet too.

Bitter, angry, hateful. You’ve never felt this way before. You’ve never truly loathed anyone. Not even your grandfather. His fists were nothing compared to Andy’s emotional battering.

“Well, don’t let it get too cold. They get gummy,” you force a smile, only fed by the thought of what comes after. Of what you’re going to do when he leaves.

Run.

🕊️

When Andy leaves, you’re in the kitchen tidying up. You left all the dishes in a stack to make a convincing show for him. You’ll be busy all day scouring the skillet and the fruit stuck to the inside of the pot, along with your plates and the cutlery. Oh and the mess you made of the counters.

The door closes but you don’t break your charade right away. You give it ten minutes. Fifteen, just to be sure. Then you tiptoe down the hall and look out the window. The tire tracks are already snowed over. 

You don’t hesitate. You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life. This is your chance. You spin and race upstairs. 

You search the closet and the dresser, everywhere for the bag you brought there. It’s gone. Along with all the clothes from your old life. All that was you. Andy took them along with everything else.

Whatever. You grab a few pieces of the more practical slant; turtlenecks, some leggings, a pair of jeans. Socks and underwear. You work quickly, with intent. Just enough to get out, not a lot. Not too much. As little as you can. You don’t want to keep too much that will remind you of this place.

You rush back downstairs after you change. You grab your tablet and message Dr. Kemp, the chat log still blank. You delete each message once he responds. You can’t be too careful.

‘He’s gone. When can you get here?’

His reply isn’t long; ‘ten minutes, been waiting a block away.’

‘I’ll be outside.’

You close the cover of the tablet and stare at it. You hover it over the countertop but stop yourself. No, you earned this. It’s yours. Andy never did pay you for the painting. Not in full.

You hug the tablet and go to retrieve the bag you found in the front closet. A tote bag with faded floral print. You don’t wonder where it came from. You don’t want to think too hard about him or this place. They’ll soon be long gone.

You pull on your boots and your coat. That’s all he’s left you of your former existence. You don’t suspect you would have them for much longer if you stay. You shudder and grip the fabric handles of the bag.

You open the front door and step out into the drift. The snow floats down in fluffy flakes. As you step off the porch, it collects on your lashes. You make slow progress, lifting your knees high as the unshoveled walk makes each step a task. As you come up to the curb, a distant rumble comes from down the avenue.

You shield your eyes against the steady snowfall and squint. You think it’s Dr. Kemp. You’re not sure. When you saw his car, it was dark and you were more focused on other things.

He rolls down the snow-carpeted road cautiously and pulls in the next driveway before turning around and coming up along the curb. He grins at you through the passenger window and the doors unlock with a loud thunk. You grab the handle and pull.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Thanks, doctor, I… thank you. I…”

“You sounded scared, how could I say no?”

You nod and look over your shoulder at the house.

“Let me deal with Andy when the time comes,” he insists, “come on, it’s hell out here. Get in.”

You nod and haul your bag onto the floor ahead of you and put the tablet on top. You stop yourself before you release the device. You look at Dr. Kemp. He stares.

“You alright?” He asks.

“I forgot something,” you say as you let go of the tablet. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be two minutes,” you hold up as many fingers, “promise.”

“I trust you, sweetheart,” he assures with a smile, “I’ll be here.”

You take and breath and close the passenger door gently. You whip around and stumble back up the walk, stepping into the holes you left on your way out. You burst inside, not carrying for the melting snow you leave in your stead or the undone dishes, or anything about this place. There’s only one last thing that needs to be done.

You take the stairs two at a time as you complete your final chore. You barrel back down and don’t bother with a final goodbye as you head back out. For once, you feel accomplished. Like you’ve done something and you don’t give a heck what Andy feels.

You don’t look back, you just keep going. You falter but not from doubt, only the snow. You get back to the car and rip the door open, climbing in with a heave. You fall into the seat as you snap the door shut. You lean your head back and sigh.

“I’m ready to go now,” you say.

“Great,” he shifts into gear, “put your seat belt on, sweetheart, the roads are awful.”

You do as he says as you catch your breath. Your skin is buzzing from more than just the cold. You fold your hands as you try to settle your nerves. 

“Good girl,” Dr. Kemp praises, “we’ll be home soon.”

🕊️

It’s real once you walk through the front door. You look around at the home decor and nearly fall apart. The stringent, almost sterile walls of Andy’s house haunt you. It’s only then, with something to compare them to, that you realise how much you dreaded them. How much you despised them.

You look around and take in every inch. The brown leather bench beside the door, a tall coat rack on the other side of the entryway, a mat for your snow laden boots, and a runner rug with the honey coloured curlicues on a deeper shade of brown. There’s a faint smell of cedar in the air.

“Ann made up the guest room for you,” he says, “and the kids are at school so they shouldn’t be a bother.”

You stop short, your hands on the collar of your coat. You look at him, dull with shock. Your cheeks tremble as you gulp.

“Ann… your…”

“My wife, yeah,” he says coolly, “she’s excited to meet you.”

“She is?” You blink, “I uh…” your eyes flit all around, “I’m so sorry, this isn’t–”

“It’s fine,” he intones, “really. She understands how vulnerable some of them a safe space.”

It’s like a slap in the face. You don’t know what you expected or why you expected it. He’s your doctor, you’re his patient, a crazy person. How did you forget that?

You glance down at his hand, his left hand. There’s a gold ring on his finger. It wasn’t there before. Not in your sessions, not at Thanksgiving. Never. Why wasn’t he with his family during the holidays?

“I thought I heard the door,” a woman appears from the other end of the hall, “oh, this must be her.”

You bat your lashes, fighting to hold yourself together. Don’t cry yet. 

“Uh, hi,” you squeak as she struts down the hall.

“Hello, hon,” the tall blonde pulls you into a hug as you cower.

“Ann,” Kemp clears his throat.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forget–” she lets you go, “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

You only shake your head. Your eyes are dry and itchy. You can only look back at her before slowly glancing at Steve. Your cheeks twinge and your lips pinch. He never told you about her. Why would he?

You feel like your chest is empty. There’s an icy whirlwind inside of you, flowing through you, sending a shiver up your spine. This is the worst thing you've ever felt. What is it?

“Ann,” Kemp says, “she's had a long night.”

“Oh, of course, you take her up to the guest room,” she backs off, “you take your time, hon, do whatever you need to do.”

You nod and mouth a thank you, unable to get any noise out. She goes back the way she came and you turn, focusing on undoing your coat. What have you done?

“I guess I should've warned you, huh? What with your… issues,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Just let me know if it gets too crowded around here.”

“Okay,” you croak.

You bend to wiggle free of your boots. You don't know what to do. You just want to be alone.

He leads you through the house. Into a cozy front room and to a staircase curled up to the second floor. You follow behind him, the tote bag dangling from your grasp.

He opens a door as he faces you. You try to hide your emotions but you can barely keep from frowning. He rests his hand on the door frame.

“This is you. I'm down at the very end,” he points over his shoulder, “if you need anything…”

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? For…”

“Coming here.”

“Sweetheart, I wouldn't say yes if it was a problem,” he coos as he reaches to caress your shoulder, “I wouldn't be a very good doctor if I don't make sure my patients are safe, huh?”

“I guess not,” you murmur.

“Look, you just get yourself situated. Try to relax. I know a lot's happened but you're strong. You can do this,” he leans in, “I believe in you.”

He kisses your forehead and you wince. His hand goes to your chin as he pulls away. You stare up at him.

“I meant it when I said you're special,” he hums.

“I…” you turn your head away from him, slipping free, “I need to lay down.”

“Sure,” he smirks and drops his hand, “I'll check in when I can.”

You turn into the bedroom, slouching through as you sense him behind you. You feel him watching, as if waiting for something. You refuse to look back.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he purrs, “you're exactly where you need to be.”

The door shuts and you gasp as the bag falls from your hand. What does he mean?

[ballcrusher74]

hello. are you. perhaps 👉👈 willing to talk about the inspector/faux. ive only seen cool arts and no context so im rather curious.

OK!!! I actually love rambling about my ocs so small questions like this make me day. I just get nervous LOL But! I will say, there's gonna probably be a bit I'm leaving out because it does involve my friends' characters and it's still an on-going thing atm (we tend to roleplay on lethal company as our guys. btw the oc group is called Cleanup Crew ! it explains the recent reblogs and new tags I've added on posts with this guy) AND this does also involve my own little interpretations of in-game mechanics and other things, but otherwise, I'll get the rest of him down!

Inspector, also originally known by the name of Terrance Conroy (or Terry), was a typical scavenger working under 'The Company' after a couple rough times on his home planet. (This information isn't necessarily set in stone, but the idea of him being a washed-up rock star before quitting his passion to get a job that pays his rent has been bouncing around in my brain.) He used to be a normal guy, trying to find a little hope in his desperate situation, and was a social butterfly. He tend to bounce from crew to crew, sometimes staying in some for only a couple days, and some for months. He was a very careful man, and looked out for his fellow crew members.

And then, one day, his first death on the job happens.

But instead of being greeted by a bright white light at the end of a tunnel, or complete pitch darkness, he appears on the ship again- completely physically fine.

This.. confuses him at first, yet he continues on.

And then he dies again. And again, and again. Over and over, the more deaths he's endured, the more he comes to a morbid realization that he can't truly die, nor can those around him. He tries to keep this truth hidden away from the others, as they seem to not have mentioned it at all before. He remembers everything. Every time he was ripped to shreds by an eyeless dog, every time he blew up into pieces from a landmine, every time he was shot multiple times, every time he was left behind or ejected as part of the disciplinary process- He felt it all and remembered it all. This goes on for the course of years (around 8-10 roughly) and over that course of time, he begins to grow very careless. What's the point of saving someone if they'll just come back? What's the use of tears when you're only a couple dollars off quota with a shovel in hand?

What's the point of it all? And with that carelessness comes selfishness into the picture. With how long he's been stuck in the cycle, he has become a very manipulative person, putting up a playful and nice persona on the outside- almost sickeningly sweet- in order to help other's do his bidding. He believes that if he were to cause so much chaos, disorder, and disruption within a crew, to where it's like animals mauling each other apart, he'd be able to break free from it himself. He doesn't care anymore about leaving others behind. He's desperate at this point to find a way out. Faux, who is an alter ego / disguise for Inspector, ties more into the on-going events right now, but I can give a basic rundown on his personality. He's a klutzy and quiet man, typically only talking to others when it's just him and them, and nobody else around, playing himself off as a selective mute. Since this is just Inspector in a jazzy little jester outfit, he still possesses all the traits of that man, just hidden away as to not blow his cover. He's still tugging on the strings in some way, people just don't realize. Sure, he's off putting and just a tad bit strange, but how can a goofy man like that be terrifying?

WOOOW ok that's a lot more typing than expected, but here's also a couple fun facts about the guy !

He stands at 6 feet and 1 inch, and is a very lanky guy compared to others, but this wasn't always the case. He used to just stand at 5 feet and 6 inches, and had more normal human proportions. With how many times he has died and how long it's been of the cycle, it has fucked up his appearance a LOT. Other things include : his 'skin' being grey, his voice constantly sounding like it's coming from a walkie talkie, no visible neck, his face becoming the helmet itself (it still bleeds, but there's nothing in there), and inhumanly flexible.

The only thing left of him that represents his last strand of humanity, is a singular, dim eye behind the tape on his visor.

He is very much not a rational man anymore. He is quick to jump to things, and won't hesitant with his actions.

When waiting to return from death, he is able to manifest in someone's head as a disembodied voice, and will typically mock them, or try and manipulate them further. In this state, he can see everything through the eyes of the person he's haunting. ^ Fun fact about this! This was originally based off a stupid bit where my friend was streaming LC to me with other buddies on the game and I kept telling them to step on landmines and then kill someone for a promotion, and then Inspector was born!

and UH I think that's about it I have for the guy atm! If the rest of the cleanup crew gets dropped than I'll update this accordingly perhaps. As of right now, enjoy my oc slop 👍

[chaoticbuggybitchboy]

Hi!

Nicholases: Anthony Mikey

Nicks: ant; glow

Gender: wobbly (transmasc enby)

Pronouns: ey/vey/zey/they/he any just get silly

Orient.: aro/ace

Status: platonically pining for the same boy since I was 13

Age: not quite a legal adult yet (panic face)

Pronouns Page

Languages: English (native), Spanish (decent), Romanian (bad)

Brain Stuff: OCD, ADHD, autism, psychosis, PTSD, bipolar disorder

Physical Stuff: hyper-mobile Ehlers Danlos Spectrum Disorder; postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome; migraines

DMs?: I’m awkward and may not answer at all. If I don’t say anything after like, two days just assume I either forgot or was just uncomfortable but didn’t want to say anything. Feel free to try again if u want with something else I might reply then. I’m an unpredictable feral rat about DMs sometimes. Idk. Don’t assume I hate you.

Tone tags?: yes

Asks: anything nonsexual and not asking me for money I will not respond to those

Flirting/compliments?: non romantic and nonsexual

Swearing: I swear so much I don’t always register the use of the word fuck and my phone has autocorrected ‘duck’ to ‘fuck’ before.

Previously pinned post: horses

My overly active ao3: ant_is_in_an_anthill

My neglected art blog: @ants-awesome-art-blog (also present here tagged as ‘ant art go brr’)

My danger days fic specifically: endangered gays fic (yes! That’s me!! I’m that guy!! Yippee!!)

Side blogs:

@cherri-cola-soda & @broken-acid-in-the-morning-light & @starspinnerwinner & @dead-spider-in-the-sun (kjrp)

Things I talk about pretty consistently:

- danger days

- Myself

- My danger days fic

Blog tags and more abt me under the cut

Things I talk about sporadically:

- Dracula

- The Historian

- The end Cretaceous Extinction Event

- Star Wars

- TMA & TMAGP

- Languages

- Bears in trees

- Other assorted music artists

- My intense craving for a Mikey Way 2012 fender bass guitar

Tags (I’m still sorting my blog so it’s sporadic and more will be added)

Chaoticbuggybitchboy - literally anything I said words on

Some blogs I interact with semi regularly have their urls tagged

Malevolent ant - me thinking about malevolent whenever I remember to listen to it (sunny I’m so sorry)

Complaining - me. Complaining. About anything and everything

I have a couple levels of vent tags there’s mild vent and cw vent

Infodumping in the tags again - what it sounds like

Ant activated - things relating to world events and general activism stuff

Making up words - for when I’m making up words again

Me when he /p - me posting about a boy I like. I’m sorry. Not stopping.

Ayudame - when I need help but in Spanish

Wtnv rambles - welcome to Nightvale, where I ramble.

Ant the space cadet - Star Wars talk

Showing and telling :] - yeah

My posts that hit it off - ones that took off in some way

My hit bit posts - the two(!!!!) posts bears in trees official reblogged

Marigold corpse fic - a different thing I wrote, also up on ao3 :]

Ant makes polls - get this I make polls

Danger days tags:

Danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys - umbrella tag for all danger days content (yes I chose the longest possible tag)

Endangered gays fic - my massive fic series and anything at all related to it (including when I ramble in the tags so remember to check there if ur interested)

Danger days - general danger days; not associated with my fic

Danger days art - art

Ddttlotfk - album stuff talking about the songs rather than the lore